Archive of Our Own

The shot was going to be perfect.

Even though Mahiru was out of breath from constantly ducking and maneuvering throughout the thick undergrowth of the island—a stray tree branch had even nicked her in the hand—she didn’t mind. Taking a deep breath, she knelt down and meticulously aimed her camera at the butterfly. She was no entomologist, but it was a large specimen with vivid violet wings, and as it rested upon the chrysanthemum it almost seemed to melt away into the magenta of the flower petals.

The flower itself, in turn, was framed in the background by the gigantic ancient ruin—a towering building of stone covered in thick gray grime and twisted vines, spotted with the dark green of tree branches. Then, beyond that, the ruins themselves were silhouetted by the orange, pinkish glow of the sunset; if Mahiru strained her eyes, she could even make out the shape of the moon hiding amidst the darkening evening sky. 

Then, just as Mahiru was about to press the shutter-release button, a voice rang out behind her.

“...Mahiru? Wh-What the hell are you doing…?”

Mahiru recoiled, and a branch crunched underneath her foot. The violet butterfly spasmed and took off into flight, darting toward the horizon. She briefly debated giving chase, but her energy was already spent. Instead, frustration welling inside her, Mahiru climbed to her feet and wheeled around, ready to chew out whoever had ruined her valuable photo opportunity.

To her surprise, however, it was not some blundering nuisance like Kazuichi, or the creepy, deranged Nagito—who would’ve still been tied up in the old building, now that she thought about it—but rather someone else entirely. 

“H-Hajime?” Mahiru blurted. She stopped dead in her tracks. Indeed, Hajime was standing on the small bridge leading to the ruins, looking both amused and concerned. As she watched, the corner of his mouth curled upward into a wavering half-smile. 

Hajime was wearing essentially the same outfit Mahiru had always seen him in, consisting of a pair of dark pants, sneakers, a white short-sleeved button-up shirt (which she noticed desperately needed to be ironed), and a deep green tie adorned with an unfamiliar insignia. Indeed, some might have considered the outfit boring, especially compared to the eccentric garb donned by so many of the others, but Mahiru thought the simplicity only enhanced Hajime’s other features. He had short, spiky brown hair and oddly alluring olive eyes, and, although he was no bodybuilder, he had well proportions forearms and hands, with long, slender fingers.

“So… what exactly were you doing hiding in a bush?” Hajime asked.

Mahiru started, and jerked her head upward to meet Hajime’s eyes. She realized, with a pinch of embarrassment, that she must have inadvertently been staring at him. 

Acting nonchalant, Mahiru raised a palm in the air by her side, sighing. “Jeez… Isn’t it obvious? I’m taking a photograph… Or I was, at least, before you ruined it.” Her shock at seeing him had receded at this point, and her spiraling feelings of frustration returned. It was Hajime, of course, so she couldn’t have been too mad, but she was still annoyed. 

“R-Really?” He paused for a moment. “...In hindsight, that seems pretty obvious. Sorry.” 

Mahiru walked closer to Hajime, running a hand through her short hair. “I know you can be pretty oblivious, Hajime, but this is a new low…” Truthfully, she was a little amused by the look of shame on his face, but he didn’t need to know that.

“So… what were you photographing?” Hajime asked. “The ruins?”

“Not exactly,” Mahiru replied, lifting a finger beside her face and turning to the side. “You wouldn’t have seen it, of course, but there was this gorgeous violet butterfly on top of a flower—a chrysanthemum, to be exact. …You do know what a chrysanthemum is, right?”

“I think so…?”

The corner of Mahiru’s mouth twitched in amusement. “You… don’t sound very confident. I hope you do some research if you decide to buy your girlfriend flowers.”

Hajime scoffed. “You know I’m single, right…?”

“Obviously,” Mahiru replied. Indeed, she had suspected he was single, but she was nonetheless surprised by a subtle ripple of relief in her chest. Doing her best to ignore it, she lowered her head, tapping her temple. “ Anyways. The ruins were there in the background, obviously, but… with this aperture and focal length, the depth of field would’ve been fairly narrow.”

“Oh… so the ruins themselves would be blurry then, right?” Hajime replied. 

Mahiru shut an eye, holding her hand out in front of her. “Uh-huh. If there’s too much going on in a photo, then it starts to look really messy. Still, the ruins were an intentional addition to the composition. I might not be a photography maestro like my mother, but that doesn’t mean I don’t pay attention to the background when I take a photo.”

“Wow… I can tell you really thought this all out,” Hajime said, glancing up at the ruins. “I bet this orange light would’ve looked totally majestic in a photograph.” 

Mahiru’s eyes lit up, and she raised her index finger in the air. “Yeah, exactly! The whole thing was going to be bathed in this orange and pink glow. It would’ve meshed really well with the color of the flower and the butterfly, since those consisted of cooler colors…“  

Suddenly, however, she furrowed her brow. “...Jeez,” she added, “couldn’t you have walked by a couple minutes later or something?” Mahiru sighed. She had gotten so into talking about her photography that she had forgotten she was supposed to be mad at Hajime. Is that what he had intended when he asked her so many questions? Mahiru hated the idea that she could be manipulated so easily. Then again… maybe she was just being paranoid. He had expressed a desire to learn more about photography, after all, and she had even offered to give him her old camera once they escaped from the island; it was a prized possession of hers, but she didn’t mind if it was in his hands.

“H-Hey… It’s not like I was planning to run into you,” Hajime insisted, raising a hand in front of his chest. He was pretty cute when he was flustered, Mahiru thought. It almost made her want to forgive him. Almost.

“Hey,” Mahiru said, leaning forward and pointing at him. “I’ve come to a decision. Since you screwed up my precious photo-op, you have to let me take photos of you instead.”

Hajime raised his brow. “Huh? Since when—”

Mahiru sighed. “Relax. I’m not going to make you do anything weird… But this sort of moody lighting isn’t really appropriate for the kinds of portraits I want to take. We should go back to the hotel. You’re headed there anyway, aren’t you?” She clasped her hands behind her back, and a small smile crossed her lips.

“I guess I don’t have anything better to do,” Hajime said. “It’s still a little too early to be sleeping, and I don’t really feel like lazing around by myself.”

Mahiru nodded. “That’s the spirit, Hajime. Come on. Let’s go.” She was still disappointed that she hadn’t been able to take that photo, of course, but she found her irritation quickly melting away as she pondered the prospect of spending time with Hajime one-on-one. With that, the two of them began walking toward the direction of the cottages. Normally, Mahiru wouldn’t have been looking forward to such a long walk—the ruins were quite far from the hotel site, and she wasn’t the athletic type like Akane or Peko—but somehow, she didn’t mind this time.

Initially, the two of them walked in silence, interrupted only by the soft pitter patter of their footsteps and the crashing of the waves against the island’s distant shore. It was then that Mahiru realized she must’ve looked like a mess after prancing through the foliage around the ruins. She rustled her hands through her hair, and, to her chagrin, pulled a crumpled leaf from the side of her head. She similarly brushed her hands across the fabric of her brown jumper and pleated skirt, and quickly glanced down to make sure nothing had stuck to her knee-high socks. 

Mahiru wasn’t sure who started it, but they were soon engaged in a friendly, relaxed conversation. She found her anger and unease melting away even as they talked about various grim, serious topics—the alleged secret of Jabberwock island, the deaths of Byakuya and Teruteru, and the mysterious motive Monokuma had presented the last night. 

Of course, that last topic brought back strange memories of the envelope of pictures that had been left in her mailbox, and the creepy video game she had played that morning, but Mahiru tried to push the thoughts to the back of her mind. It wouldn’t do her any good to be moping around depressed, especially when she finally had an opportunity to spend time with Hajime. Besides, having him by her side made her feel a little safer. Maybe she would even be able to explain the situation to him after she spoke to Fuyuhiko and the others the next day. 

Finally, they reached the first island, where the hotel was located. Then, just as it seemed like the conversation was about to melt away into silence once more, a loud shout seized Mahiru’s attention.

“Mahiru? Hajime? What a maaaaaarvelous sight!” That high-pitched voice, oozing with enthusiasm, was unmistakable. Sure enough, Ibuki was standing in front of them with an arm raised in the sky, head tilted with one eye open and a stuck-out tongue. Moreover, there was another person next to her. It was Sonia, the Ultimate Princess, who was smiling with hands elegantly clasped by her front.

“Good evening,” Sonia said. “The island looks rather charming at sunset, does it not?” Her voice was tinted with a foreign accent, but it was nonetheless regal and dignified. 

“Ibuki? Sonia? It’s nice to see you here,” Hajime said. “W-Wait, that’s a weird combination. What are you two doing together?”

“Oh, I just happened to be taking an evening stroll,” Sonia said. “There is nothing more peaceful than a walk along a desolate road at night. You do agree, right?” She interlocked her fingers in front of her chest—her eyes seemed to sparkle as she spoke. 

“...I-I think that’s just you,” Mahiru commented. “I mean, don’t you think it’s a little dangerous to be wandering all alone in this situation?” It was hard to imagine any of the students on the island committing a murder, even the hot-headed Fuyuhiko, but it had already happened once. Who was to say it couldn’t happen again?

Sonia lowered her hands. “That… is a good point, Mahiru. Perhaps I should be more careful.”

“It’s soooooooo creepy here at night,” Ibuki said, leaning forward with her arms behind her back. “But that just makes it even more inspirational! Ibuki came up with an entire album’s worth of lyrics on her way here!” 

“We happened to run into each other on the island, is all,” Sonia clarified. “I’m afraid I didn’t understand it all, but Ibuki was very eager to educate me on the virtues of heavy metal.” Her eyes lit up. “Apparently there are special songs imbued with demonic chants, and, if you play them backwards, you are forced to commit suicide!”

“...Wh-Why do you sound so excited about that?” Hajime said. “Besides, I’m pretty sure that’s just a lame urban legend.”

“Tee-hehehe…” Ibuki giggled, winking and flashing a peace sign by her temple. “Heavy metal, the greatest export from Great Britain since the days of the Opium Wars! It’s so totally epic when the bassline gallops like a horse! Tha-dump! Tha-dump! Tha-dump!”

Mahiru took a step back as the others spoke. She hadn’t expected to come across anyone else on their way back, and she felt a little out of her element when surrounded by such eccentric personalities—even if she did like them as people. Ibuki was an internationally famous musician, after all, and Sonia was quite literally European royalty. Compared to someone who just took pictures of ordinary people’s smiles, it was a pretty daunting duo. Conversely, even though Hajime seemed to have his own insecurities about his inability to remember his talent, he seemed to get along pretty well with everyone on the island. Even the total weirdos like Gundham seemed to at least tolerate his presence. 

Suddenly, Mahiru noticed that Ibuki was waving a hand at her. She leaned forward, brushing aside her colorful bangs with one hand. “Is Mahiru malfunctioning? This is uber-bad. We need a nurse, stat! Somebody call Mikan!”

“I-I’m fine,” Mahiru objected. “You don’t need to worry about me. I’m just tired, you know?”

“It is becoming quite late,” Sonia said, tapping her chin and gazing at the ground.

Ibuki’s eyes lit up. “You were totally staring at Hajime just then, Mahiru.” Suddenly, she gasped, pointing her fingers to the side. “Could Mahiru be developing a crush?” 

Mahiru cleared her throat. “You shouldn’t make such bold assumptions about others, Ibuki. You really think I would have a crush on s-someone like him? Jeez… give me a break.” She felt her face grow warm, but she didn’t think she was lying. She didn’t have a crush. Right..? She glanced at Hajime out of the corner of her eye.

“Relax,” he interjected. “I-I think she just zoned out. I mean, we’re just good friends, you know?”

Mahiru wasn’t sure what to make of that comment, but she tried to match his energy. “Th-That’s exactly it,” she added.

Ibuki glanced at the ground, running a hand through her hair. “Aw, I guess I miscalculated. …To be honest, Ibuki doesn’t really understand romance anyway.”

“Then allow me to intervene!” Sonia announced, splaying a palm in the air with her other hand on her hip. 

The others turned to stare at her, and she furrowed her brow, clasping her hands in front of her. Mahiru and Hajime exchanged uncertain glances as Sonia spoke. “Remember that becoming good friends is the first step to becoming star-crossed lovers! As they say, the way to a man’s heart is through wrapping your lips around his head!”

“Wh-What!?” Hajime cried out, taking a step back. 

Mahiru, meanwhile, flinched. “Eh…?” She raised a curled hand by her side, the corner of her mouth twitching. 

“That’s totally an innuendo!” Ibuki commented, leaning forward.

Sonia’s eyes widened, and she nervously rubbed her fingers together. “It is? I was told that it refers to the idea that you must enthrall a man’s mind with the words exiting your lips.”

Hajime sighed. “...Did Kazuichi tell you that one? I mean, that doesn’t even remotely sound like an actual idiom.”

“You shouldn’t trust anything that guy says, Sonia” Mahiru said. “He’s a total weirdo.” He wasn’t as bad as the infamous Teruteru, of course, but Kazuichi still certainly had a questionable air about him, especially when it concerned Sonia. “A-Anyway, it’s not like it matters. I’m not trying to win over anyone’s heart, okay?”

“I see,” Sonia said, staring away in thought. “Perhaps you are, as they say, a ‘tsundere’? It is a very common trope in exalted Japanese media!”

“Holy crap!” Ibuki interjected. “What an unexpected plot twist! Ibuki’s hunch was right after all.”

Mahiru’s face grew warm, and she struggled to conjure a response. She suddenly felt a burning desire to run away from all three of them and hide, but that obviously wasn’t an option. “It… seriously isn’t like that.” She sighed. “C-Come on, Hajime, let’s go.”

At first, it seemed like Hajime was going to crack a joke, but their eyes met, and his expression quickly changed to one of concern—Mahiru realized she must’ve looked incredibly anxious. 

“Yeah,” Hajime said. “It’s getting late. We should probably get going… Knowing this place, I’m sure we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow, too. Are you guys going to the hotel too?”

“Not yet,” Ibuki responded. She leaned forward, raising her index finger with an air of determination. “Ibuki still needs to check the CD selection at the library. It’s a vitaaaaaaaaaaaal mission, Hajime.”

“I must accompany her,” Sonia declared. “There is an issue of the Occult Magazine which I have not completed. I cannot rest while that is the case!”

“That sounds like fun” Mahiru said, clasping her hands behind her back and forcing a smile. “Hey, you should let us know tomorrow at breakfast if you find anything interesting, okay?” She still felt embarrassed, but she didn’t want to be impolite to them.

“Have a good evening, guys,” Hajime said.

With that, Ibuki and Sonia took off toward the direction of the main island at a brisk pace. Mahiru took a deep breath. She felt bad about it, but she was glad that they were gone. She felt exhausted by their baseless interrogation. Couldn’t she hang out with a guy without it being perceived as romantic?

“...Is something wrong?” Hajime asked. “You seem kind of… off.”

“That’s a rude thing to say to a girl,” Mahiru snapped back.

Hajime started. “O-Okay. I guess not.” With that, the two continued their walk toward the hotel grounds, albeit underneath the weight of a considerably more tense atmosphere. Mahiru tried her best to stare ahead, but she couldn’t help but steal glances at Hajime. She had vehemently rejected the implications made by Sonia and Ibuki just then, but truthfully, she didn’t even know how she felt about him. She did have a lot of affection for him, sure, but that was to be expected, wasn’t it? He was a nice person, and they had spent quite a bit of time together in a stressful situation. Besides, he had practically saved their lives at the Class Trial. Thinking of him fondly didn’t mean she had a crush. Right…?

Finally, after what felt like an unbearably long time, they arrived at the hotel grounds. By now, the sun had almost completely set, and the cottages were bathed in a hazy blue glow. Suddenly, knot of anxiety sprouted in Mahiru’s upper back. She realized she wasn’t sure if she wanted to go through with inviting Hajime with her cottage, after all. Maybe it would just be an awkward waste of time. Besides, he would definitely suspect that he had romantic intentions, wouldn’t he? Still, she knew she would be mad at herself the next day if she wasted this opportunity, and she didn’t want to part ways with him while there was still this taut tension hanging between them.

“...So… were you thinking of using the lobby, or the restaurant?” Hajime asked, turning toward her.

Mahiru gulped. “Eh?” She blinked slowly. Was he really this oblivious? Or was this his subtle way of turning her offer down? “Jeez, it’s not enough for you to interrupt my photo shoot,” she murmured. “… Now you want to give the others an opportunity, too? Obviously we need somewhere private.” 

“Oh,” Hajime replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “...I guess we can use mine, if you don’t mind.”

“Ugh… seriously?” Mahiru mumbled. “I bet your room is a complete mess. Let’s just… use mine, okay? All my photography stuff is there… and… I have some photo albums too, if you, you know, want to see them…” Her voice trailed off, and she was struck with a pang of embarrassment. She could only imagine what he must’ve been thinking—not only had this weird girl invited him to her room, but now he had to look at a bunch of her boring photos, too? 

Hajime shrugged. “If that’s want you want…”

“Y-You don’t have to sound so unenthusiastic,” Mahiru blurted. Shaking her head, she sauntered over toward her door and fumbled with her key to unlock it. Then, she stepped into the cottage, briefly holding the door open until Hajime could grasp it.

“You better take off your shoes before you step on the floor,” Mahiru said as she slipped her sneakers off of her feet. 

Once Hajime finally shut the door behind them, Mahiru felt a little more at ease. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder whether he actually wanted to be there, or if she was just roping him into a scheme that he couldn’t be bothered to object to. Sometimes it felt like Hajime only hung out with her because there weren’t any better options, not because he actually liked her.

“So… what now?” Hajime asked, glancing around the room. His eyes seemed to settle on the white table in the corner, where Mahiru kept her photo albums, cameras, and photography books; on the wall above, various billboards were adorned with photographs she had taken on the island. It was that corner of her room that gave me her momentarily solace amidst the paranoia and dread of this island life, but as his eyes widened she suddenly felt a pang of self-consciousness.

“Wh-What are you looking at?” she asked, her voice steelier than she intended.

“Nothing,” Hajime said. “It’s just… I’m impressed by how many photos you’ve taken.” He stepped forward and opened one of the photo albums.

Mahiru stepped next to him, crossing her arms as she glanced over his shoulder. “I-It’s not that big of a deal,” she said sheepishly. “I take my camera with me everywhere, and most of my photos are just… regular pictures of people. So it’s easy for me to accumulate a lot of shots. Even developing the photos is really easy.”

The photo album he was perusing was one Mahiru had composed that album of various portraits of the students on the island. She even had photos of the eccentric people like Gundham, as well as photos of Nagito, though they were from before he revealed himself to be a deranged lunatic. Even Hiyoko had been eager to pose for her photos ever since she had taught her how to tie her kimono. The only person who had refused to let her take his picture was Fuyuhiko, but that wasn’t surprising.

“Still,” Hajime said, flipping through the pages of photos, “this is a lot of pictures. And you have photos of everyone! And everyone’s smiling, too. I-I mean, when did you even take these?”

Mahiru clasped her hands behind her back, shyly glancing to the side. “I just… take them when I’m talking to people, you know? That’s all.”

“Huh,” Hajime said. “I guess people must really like you, then, if they’re smiling and laughing like this when they’re with you.”

Mahiru’s eyes widened, her brow creased. “Eh?” She instinctively raised a splayed hand in front of her neck. “Wh-What makes you say that…?”

“Well, we’re in a pretty uh… shitty situation, right? I think it takes a lot to get people to smile in this kind of predicament. Now that I think about it… I imagine it’s kinda similar to the photos your mom took in war-torn countries. Those people must’ve been suffering a lot, but she still captured them in moments of joy.”

Mahiru gulped, and she felt her face and shoulders tingle. It took her a moment to fully comprehend the meaning of his words. She had told him about how, as a child, her mother had shown her photos of smiling people she took overseas, but she was surprised he actually remembered. Did that mean he… really cared about her? The thought appeared alien, yet alluring.

“You did it again,” she mumbled. “That was a good comment.”

“I-I’m just saying what I think,” Hajime said.

Mahiru nodded meekly. For a few moments, they stood in silence. She wanted to say something that would fully capture the spirit of her appreciation toward him, but no words came to mind. As he continued to flip through the photo book, she stared at him from the corner of her eye. Her heart hummed, and she felt a fluttering in her stomach. Was she really developing a crush? She sighed, closing her eyes. What kind of woman would she be if she started lusting after some guy she had only known for this long? Moreover, they were in the middle of a bizarre kidnapping situation—this was no time to be thinking about romance. 

As her affections materialized in her mind, Mahiru found herself feeling more and more uneasy. It was as though she had been struck with a sudden bout of dizziness, and had lost her balance—a conflict which had until now been relegated to the recesses of her mind had finally assumed a stranglehold on her thinking.

Finally, Mahiru had had enough of wallowing in her thoughts. She stepped in front of Hajime and gestured toward the window opposite the door, nervously tapping her camera with her other hand. “Wh-Why don’t you stand over there? That should be a nice backdrop for our photos.”

Hajime glanced at her with a confused expression.

Mahiru closed her eyes. “Did you seriously forget why I invited you here?” 

“Sorry.. Your photos were just really interesting, is all.” He closed the photo album and faced her. “Th-Though… is there a reason you want to take my picture so badly?” Hajime asked, though Mahiru noticed he nonetheless stepped toward the window. “Don’t get me wrong… I don’t mind, but it seems a little strange.”

Mahiru gazed to the side, lifting a finger in the air. “...Don’t get the wrong idea. It has nothing to do with you specifically… You just happened to be a convenient model, okay?” Even as the words left her lips, however, she realized how stupid they sounded. “B-Besides,” she added, leaning forward, “don’t forget that you totally owe me after ruining my photo-op, Hajime.” 

“Fine,” Hajime replied, something akin to a half-smile crossing his lips. Once he was in position, Mahiru pulled her camera—attached by silver buckles to an orange strap across her torso—from her hip and raised it in front of her. Without thinking, she took a step forward and began taking shots of Hajime from various angles, making sure that he didn’t have time to assume any choreographed poses or expressions. After a few seconds, she straightened her back and began to idly peruse the photos. She laughed softly upon seeing Hajime’s confused expressions—but her heart also fluttered at the same time.

“You look even dumber than usual in these,” she teased, laughing. 

“H-Hey, let me see them,” Hajime insisted, stepping forward. 

As he reached for the camera, however, Mahiru jerked it away from his grasp, and Hajime stumbled into her instead. She let out a shrill squeak as his arm shoved into her chest, and she instinctively grabbed onto his shoulders to push him away—at that moment, however, she stalled, and for a second they made awkward eye contact as she held onto him. Her cheeks burning, she finally pushed Hajime away and gazed downward, pretending to stare into her camera’s screen.

“Ow…” Hajime muttered, rubbing his forehead. He quickly recovered though, however. “W-Wait, Mahiru, are you okay? Sorry, I kinda elbowed you there…”

She blinked slowly and slowly raised her head to face him, struggling to conjure a response to his question that didn’t sound meek or lame. “I-I’m fine. It’s not like you have the mass of someone like Nekomaru or Gundham.”

Hajime raised a curled hand to his side, laughing nervously. “H-Hey… That was uncalled for. Seriously, though, are you okay?”

“I said I’m fine,” Mahiru insisted. 

For a few seconds, Hajime simply stared at her. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, but avoided any direct eye contact. 

“...Hey, Mahiru. I hope you don’t mind me asking, but… is taking photos really the only reason you invited me here?”

Her brow furrowed, and a crackling anxiety scaled her shoulders. “Wh-What the hell is that supposed to mean? You better not be implying anything perverted.” 

“That’s not it at all!” he interjected. Then, lowering his voice, he continued. “It’s just that… you seem like you have something on your mind. What is it? I think you’d feel better if you just let it out.” 

Mahiru gazed at him for a long moment. The idea of confessing all her emotions, and having him say he liked her back, was tantalizing. But she knew life was a lot more unforgiving than fictional romantic dramas. Besides, she wasn’t even sure about her feelings herself. How could she confess a crush if she wasn’t even confident that she had one in the first place? Sighing, her eyes wandered across his torso, narrowly avoiding eye contact. It was then that she noticed a small speck of brown on his sleeve. 

“Hey,” she hissed. “What’s that?” Mahiru pointed at the stain, leaning forward. “Didn’t I tell you that you need to start taking better care of your clothes?”

Hajime glanced down at his sleeve. It seemed like it took a few seconds him to even notice what she was pointing at. “I-It’s just a speck of sand,” he retorted. “We’re on a tropical island, for God’s sake. There’s sand in everything here.” His eyes went round, as though he was surprised by her sudden change in demeanor. 

Mahiru shook her head. “You remember what this means, right?” She sighed. “…Just take it off and give it to me. I’ll wash it right now. Actually, I’ll iron it too—those wrinkles are ridiculous, you know. I can’t believe you’re okay with walking around the island like that.” As she chastised Hajime, she felt her embarrassment from earlier melting away—or, perhaps more accurately, she was distracting herself from it. In all fairness, however, she had told him a couple days ago that she would be forced to wash his clothes if she ever saw him with a dirty sleeve again. Really, it was his fault for not taking her warning seriously.

“You want me to take off my shirt right now?” Hajime protested, his expression incredulous. “...It kinda seems like you’re dodging my question.”

Mahiru gulped, clasping her hands behind her back and fidgeting with her thumbs nervously. “...Don’t make it weird.” She rubbed her temple with her wrist. “Obviously you can’t be my photography model if you don’t even look presentable, Hajime. That’s what we’re here for, right?” Yes, that was definitely it. The fact that she would get to see Hajime shirtless was definitely just a happy little accident. Obviously.

Finally, Hajime shrugged. “If you say so.” With a surprisingly nonchalant attitude, Hajime undid the knot of his tie and, while gripping it in one hand, undid the buttons of his shirt with the other. Finally, he reached behind his back, snatched one of the sleeves of his shirt, and pulled the garment from his torso in one fell swoop. It was surprisingly graceful—for him, anyway.

For a moment, her mind didn’t register it, but soon Mahiru’s eyes widened as she stared at Hajime’s shirtless body. She had always thought he had nice forearms and hands, but she was surprised to see that, although he obviously lacked the overwhelming bulk of a professional athlete, he also had a well-toned chest and shoulders, as well as a fairly defined stomach. She wondered if he happened to work out, but he didn’t really seem like the type—then again, she supposed you’d have to get in some physical activity if you hung out with the likes of Nekomaru, Akane, or even Ibuki. 

“Uh… Mahiru?” Her eyes snapped upward, and she realized that Hajime was holding his shirt out in front of him. Making a strangled noise, Mahiru grabbed the shirt and tie from him and darted away toward the shower room’s washing machine. After throwing the clothes into the machine, she paused for a moment to collect her thoughts. She hadn’t actually expected him to take off his shirt, and she wasn’t really sure what to do now that there was a shirtless guy in her cottage—especially a guy she may or may not have had feelings for. If Sonia, Ibuki, or really anyone else would’ve happened to peer into the room right then, she assumed they would’ve only assumed they were doing something intimate . The thought made her feel a little uneasy—she could stomach the idea of dating someone, maybe, but there was no way she was going to have sex with anybody here.

Finally, she wheeled around and returned to Hajime. He seemed fairly relaxed, if a little sheepish. She was glad that he felt comfortable around her, anyhow. Moreover, she did enjoy doing helpful tasks for people she liked; it somehow seemed like a more elegant, pure expression of affection than any words she could conjure. 

“So… what now?” Hajime said. He cleared his throat, staring at Mahiru’s torso. “By the way, you do realize that your shirt is dirtier than mine was, right? I-I mean, you were prancing around in the bushes…”

Mahiru gasped and glanced down. Sure enough, there was a small stain of dirt on her chest, right above the hem of her olive jumper—it stuck out like a sore thumb against the stark white of her dress shirt.

“Eh?” she blurted. “...H-Hey, you’re not implying I should take my shirt off too, are you?” She sighed, rubbing her head. “I know you’re a boy and all, but I expected better from you, Hajime. What’s next? Peeping on girls in the shower?” 

“I-It’s not like that…!” Hajime interjected, stepping backward. 

“Plus… how did you even notice that?” Mahiru asked, leaning forward. “...You were totally staring at my chest, weren’t you? Jeez, my eyes are up here, Hajime!” Maybe it was because she wasn’t the one on the defensive for once, but as she chided him she found herself feeling considerably more relaxed and jovial than she had been when she first entered the cottage. In the back of her mind, a part of her was even hoping that her teasing would lead somewhere. She wasn’t sure how she would react if he actually admitted to her joking accusations. 

“Hold on!” Hajime shouted, gesturing toward her. “You’re the one who literally just asked me to take my shirt off for essentially no reason whatsoever. Plus, you’re the one who invited me here in the first place. So… who’s really the pervert here, Mahiru?”

Mahiru’s eyes widened, and her posture turned rigid. “...Shut up,” she hissed. Suddenly her jubilation was swept away and replaced with a coursing heat across her skin; it felt as though she was under a sweltering spotlight, and she gulped nervously. Maybe this was her karmic justice—or, as a certain student would put it, the will of causality . 

Mahiru leaned forward, hands on her hips. “I only invited you here so I could take photos of you, go tit? In fact, we should get back to that.”

“Wait, without a shirt on?” Hajime asked, the corner of his mouth curled into an incredulous half-smile.

Mahiru furrowed her brow. “...Y-You’re the one making it weird!” Without another moment’s hesitation, she placed a hand on Hajime’s chest and pushed him back against the window. He grunted in surprise, but didn’t protest—truthfully, Mahiru was also caught off-guard by her own forcefulness. Moreover, she was surprised by the firmness of Hajime’s chest, and she felt a sudden stirring inside her. 

Mahiru quickly brushed the feeling aside, however. Then, she took a brisk step backward and began to take photos of Hajime from multiple angles, all the while laughing softly. She just hoped he couldn’t tell that her chuckles were tinged with a spiraling anxiety.

“There,” Mahiru finally said, straightening her stance again. She knew she’d feel embarrassed if she looked at the photos right now, but she was looking forward to perusing them later. “You look even dumber without a shirt on,” she teased. “Ugh, I can’t even bear looking at your face anymore.” She returned her camera to its familiar position on her hip.

“...Does that mean I can finally leave?” he asked. 

“Eh?” Mahiru asked, her eyes widening. “...I-I guess.” She stared to the side with crossed arms, frowning slightly. She had thought they were having a good time, but maybe she was the one miscalculating. Maybe Hajime really was just putting up with her—maybe she was the one making things weird and awkward. She sighed deeply, a vague sense of shame descending on her back.

“...You don’t look too happy about that,” Hajime said, stepping forward. “A-Are you sure you don’t have something else on your mind, Mahiru?”

Mahiru’s heart flitted as he said her name in his signature soft, yet elegant tone of voice. It felt like a firm hug in verbal form. Still, she apprehensively tapped her foot against the gray carpet sprawled across her floor. 

“Um… I was hoping…” Her words trailed off, and she loosely crossed her arms as though clutching herself. Not only was she reluctant to admit anything to Hajime, but she also realized she didn’t really know what exactly she would be admitting to begin with. She didn’t even understand how she felt herself. Indeed, Mahiru hadn’t had any concrete plan when she had invited him here, only a vague notion that Hajime would end up taking the lead and she would just be along for the ride. After all, that was how things had been during the investigation and the Class Trial. Clearly, however, things were not progressing that way. 

Internally, Mahiru chided herself for having such a naive fantasy—she wondered if spending time with Hajime was hindering her judgment. 

At last, she finally spoke again, her voice decisive. “...Nevermind.”

“No,” Hajime insisted, suddenly serious. “You were definitely going to say something just then… What is it?” His voice was not exactly fierce , but it was unusually emphatic for someone like him. 

Mahiru suddenly felt small, and her grip on herself grew tight. She wanted to shrink away out of his sight—the last thing she wanted was to be perceived right now. Still…. she didn’t imagine she would have a better opportunity to have this conversation with him anytime soon. Besides, it wasn’t like her to be scared of something so frivolous. Was she really intimidated by the prospect of talking to a boy? 

Mahiru took a deep breath, steeling herself. “Hey, don’t take this the wrong way, but… you said earlier you were single, right?” 

“H-Huh?” Hajime blinked rapidly. He suddenly looked much less imposing. “...Uh, no. Wait, I-I mean, yeah. I’m single, obviously.” He flashed an uneasy smile, and he reached up to rustle the back of his spiky hair.

“I see,” Mahiru replied. “In that case…”

“H-Hold on a sec… Let me guess. You want to know if I have a crush on anyone here, right?” Hajime asked. He still seemed confused, but also a little amused. 

“Huh?” Mahiru inhaled sharply. 

“Oh, come on,” Hajime said. “People don’t just… ask others if they’re single for no reason. I think you know that.”

Mahiru gulped—her face felt like it was being paved with glowing magma. She narrowed her eyes, trying to sound assertive. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why do boys always assume they know what girls are thinking? Jeez…” 

Mahiru glared at him. Suddenly, a knot of anxiety was strangling the top of her spine; her shoulders were unbelievably tense, as though they were folding onto one another. Her desire to shrink away was boiling inside her—it felt as though her insides were bubbling and fizzling. Still clutching herself, she made an impatient gesture with a trembling hand and hissed. “Just… leave, okay?” 

“W-Wait,” Hajime suddenly interjected. “...Are you wondering if I have a crush on you specifically?” There it was again—that analytical, almost infuriatingly confident tone that accompanied Hajime whenever he came to a sudden realization. Mahiru knew it all too well, and she was suddenly reminded of when she had argued with him during the Class Trial. The memory only made her feel even more self-conscious.

“Look,” she muttered. “I told you to leave already, okay? So… just go already. You’re… starting to… ugh.” She shuddered, closing her eyes. Mahiru knew she was wasting the opportunity—and undoubtedly giving him a negative impression—but the alternative was so daunting that it seemed impossible. Just like she couldn’t suddenly walk on water, or learn to fly like a bird, she couldn’t possibly tell Hajime how she felt.

Hajime opened his mouth as though he was about to say something else, but his lips then slammed shut. His eyes flinched—Mahiru thought she saw a hint of hurt in the depths of his irises. He stared at her for a moment with a creased brow. Then, taking a deep breath, he wheeled around and stepped toward the door. “S-See you tomorrow,” he murmured.

Just as Hajime reached out to grab the doorknob however, time seemed to freeze, as though Mahiru was watching her future circle down the drain. Suddenly, she felt the same overwhelming daunting sensation as before. She realized that, no matter what, she couldn’t bear the idea of Hajime leaving her cottage right now. Making a strangled sound, she leapt forward and placed a hand on his shoulder, almost yanking him backward.

“W-Wait!” she shouted, gasping. Hajime turned around. Mahiru stared at her feet—she couldn’t see his expression, but she knew he must’ve been exasperated. After an awkward moment of pause, she finally spoke in a breathy, almost inaudible whisper. “Y-You’re… totally right, actually.”

Hajime gasped, and Mahiru couldn’t help but glance up at him. His expression was one of utter bewilderment. He raised an arm in front of him, his eyes wide. “W-Wait, really…?” he asked. “...I was kind of bullshitting, actually.”

“Eh?” Mahiru gasped. She felt her stomach crash and sink, as though some chain inside her had snapped and sent some gargantuan anchor slamming into it from above. 

“N-Nevermind,” Hajime interrupted, walking deeper into the room once more. “Hold on… So you actually have a crush on me, Mahiru?”

Mahiru raised a finger in the air, turning away. “H-Hey, I never said that,” she insisted, her voice a tad more venomous than she intended. “...All I said was that I wanted to know if you had a crush on me . Jeez, did your ears stop working or something?”

“Uh… I’m pretty sure the only reason you would care about that in the first place is if you had a crush on me ,” Hajime retorted, rubbing the back of his neck. The muscles of his chest stretched as he did, and his tricep flexed subtly. “P-Plus, to be honest, you’ve been acting pretty weird this entire time we’ve been together. I mean, you’re like a totally different person than usual right now.”

“I-It’s not a crush,” Mahiru mumbled, staring at her feet. “Ugh… that’s such a childish word. It sounds like something an elementary schooler would say. It’s… something else, okay? Something more sophisticated, y-you know?” She realized that she was coming dangerously close to making a confession, but the words just seemed to spill from her mouth. As she spoke, she was surprised to find her shoulders loosen and her back relax, as though the tension in her body was spilling from between her lips alongside her speech.

 “Wait, does that mean you admit it?” Hajime replied, sounding utterly baffled. Still, he didn’t look angry or disgusted—indeed, he seemed to be intrigued, if a little incredulous. Mahiru couldn’t help but wonder if that meant anything. Could he actually…? 

Mahiru clasped her hands behind her back. For several seconds, she didn’t speak. She wanted to say something eloquent or witty, but it felt as though her lips were chained together.

Finally, she just mumbled. “I guess.” 

Mahiru’s face burned, and her entire body was being taken over by an uncomfortable tingling sensation, as though tiny needles were pricking the skin of her back and the nape of her neck. She stared at her feet once again—at this point, she was becoming quite familiar with the texture of her room’s gray carpet. Yet inside her she felt an overwhelming relief blossoming in her chest. She was no longer hiding anything from him. The truth was out there. She had done her part; all she could do was wait and see how he reacted to it.

For several seconds, Hajime simply stared at her.

Finally, he chuckled softly. “Wow. I never would’ve expected you of all people to have a crush, Mahiru…” 

She gasped. Normally, the sound of his laughter was like music to her ears, but this time it instead sent an angry chill down Mahiru’s spine. Just as she was about to lash out at him, however, he interrupted her. 

“Well… uh… how do I say this?” he said. “I… kinda feel the same way, actually.

For a long moment, Mahiru didn’t even comprehend what Hajime was saying. It was like his words had been lost in a frothing whirlpool of unease, frustration, and shame, or as though he had spoken in a foreign language—she heard the sounds leaving his lips, but her mind was simply incapable of deriving any meaning from them. It was only when she finally pulled her gaze away from her feet and glanced up at Hajime’s sympathetic, sheepish expression that she finally began to understand. 

Mahiru blinked repeatedly—slowly at first, but soon rapidly, as though she was initiating some sort of factory reset on her brain. “Wait… really?” Her mouth hung open ever-so-slightly even after she finished speaking. If she had been in a more lucid state, she might’ve felt embarrassed about how dumbfounded she must’ve looked, but right now her entire world was simply consumed by a strange, floating sensation. 

“Yeah,” Hajime replied, his words soft and measured. “I-I mean...It’s kind of embarrassing to say it out loud, but after mulling it over these last few days… I definitely think I have some feelings for you, Mahiru.” 

With these words, the last vestiges of doubt looming in Mahiru’s mind were finally banished. It was as though the whirlpool raging in her skull had suddenly evaporated into a burst of steam underneath the glow of a gentle warm sun, leaving behind only a warm and fuzzy fogginess in her mind. The floating sensation became even more pronounced, as though her feet were lifting off the ground and sending her drifting through space. 

After recovering from her initial shock, Mahiru looked up at Hajime as if she was seeing him for the first time. As the seconds passed, her vague relief was usurped by a bright, energetic giddiness. Suddenly, she had a flash of inspiration and, with a new-found confidence and a slightly devious grin, spoke. “Then… what are you waiting for?”

“...Huh?” Hajime blurted.

“If you like me back,” Mahiru insisted, furrowing her brow, “shouldn’t you be kissing me right now?” She wanted it to come across as teasing, of course, but Mahiru was secretly hoping Hajime would actually take the initiative, like the male leads in the old sappy romantic dramas she sometimes indulged in as a guilty pleasure. Hajime’s eyes widened. “...N-Now you’re back to being bossy all of a sudden? Your personality just did a complete 180.”

Mahiru clasped her hands behind her back. “Just… do it, okay? It’s not that big a deal, really…” 

Hajime raised a hand in front of him. “Hold on a sec… Y-You can’t just spring that on me!”

Mahiru let out a playful sigh, taking a step forward. “Jeez… Hajime, you really don’t have a single romantic bone in your body, do you? I guess I’ll just have to teach you.” She gulped, gazing to the side and nervously rubbing her thumbs together behind her back. “Okay… here’s what you’re going to do. Just… put an arm around my lower back, and one on my upper back… or, I guess the nape of my neck, if you feel like it…. Then, um…” Mahiru’s words trailed off. Instead, she exhaled sharply and cried out, “Just figure it out, okay?”

Her heart was thumping in her chest. Mahiru had felt like she was floating earlier, but now it was as if she had slammed back into the earth. No, not just that—it was if she had been buried underground and was now suffocating underneath six feet of soil. Doubt pressed against her from all sides. What did Hajime really think of her? He was probably just lying about liking her. After all, why would he even like her in the first place? All she did was bother him incessantly. She didn’t even have the beauty or spectacular talent of the other girls on the island. 

A sudden, but firm tap on her chin shattered Mahiru’s thoughts. 

To her surprise, Hajime’s face was only a few inches from hers, and his olive eyes were fixed intently on her own. His expression was difficult to decipher, but it made Mahiru feel warm, as though she was melting underneath his gaze. She instantly knew that Hajime was seeing through all the facades and walls she had built up around her, and it was simultaneously freeing and a little terrifying.

Suddenly, Mahiru felt the pressure of Hajime’s hand on her lower back. She gasped loudly, her eyes widening, but soon found herself leaning upward—as though pulled by a magnetic force—to meet his lips. They made a brief, yet passionate eye contact before Mahiru’s eyes fluttered close. After a moment of hesitation, she reached up to grip Hajime’s bare shoulders, and he placed another hand on the back of her head, almost pressing her into him. Her heart was bursting in her chest as she melted away into Hajime’s surprisingly firm grasp. 

The kiss was brief, but it felt like it lasted years. 

For several seconds thereafter, they made steady eye contact, their arms still lingering on one another’s frames. Hajime still looked a little bewildered, but he was grinning softly, his eyes beaming with affection. Indeed, for a few seconds Mahiru was engulfed in bliss herself. Her mind was devoid of any thoughts or worries, occupied only by a fuzzy euphoria. She found herself staring at Hajime’s lips, trying to convince herself that they had actually just kissed, and it wasn’t just a hallucination. 

Soon, however, the doubts came crawling back.

Mahiru felt a hot embarrassment descending upon her, and she quickly pushed Hajime away and darted away. After scanning the room, she took a seat on the end of the white canopy bed of her room and, sighing, crossed her arms and stared out the window. The sky was entirely dark by now, painted with a dark blue and scattered with stars like salt spilled on a tablecloth. The air was cool and crisp—in any other circumstance, Mahiru might’ve been contemplating how she could take advantage of the dim lighting to set up a shot. Right now, however, other things were on her mind.

“Mahiru,” Hajime blurted from beside her. She gasped sharply at his sudden appearance—the sound of his footsteps must’ve been washed away by her deluge of thoughts. “Is something wrong? You still seem preoccupied…”

Mahiru closed her eyes, breathing deeply the thin evening air. “I’m fine.” 

“...If you still want me to leave, I can,” he suggested, sighing.

“No!” Mahiru blurted. She gulped. “I-I mean, you can stay if you want, I guess…” Her voice crackled more than she intended. It wasn’t just that she didn’t want him to leave—it was also the dejection she had heard in Hajime’s voice. Mahiru knew she must’ve been giving off a ridiculous amount of mixed signals, and she hated the idea that he might think she disliked him. If he gave up on trying to get to know her, she wasn’t sure what she would do. She certainly didn’t have the initiative and self-assurance to seek him out herself.

“...Alright,” Hajime replied, nudging closer to her.

For what seemed like an eternity, the two of them sat side by side in silence. Mahiru didn’t know why, but she felt a deep shame pervading throughout her body, one that fought savagely with the tingling excitement and exhilaration already coursing through her limbs. She couldn’t think of a time in her life she had ever felt this utterly conflicted. Was she really falling for someone she had only known for such a short time? She felt a little guilty—two of their friends had recently died, and here she was desperately attempting to start a romantic tryst. And what if it didn’t even end up working out? She’d probably feel even worse than before. Could she even trust him not to play with her feelings? Part of her wanted to push Hajime out of her cottage and never speak to him again; another part of her wanted to push him down onto the bed, climb onto him, and make out with him for hours on end until the light of dawn was peeking through the blinds of the cottage.

Finally, Mahiru turned toward Hajime, her expression steely. “Hey, Hajime… You’re not just some degenerate horndog leading me on so you can get in my pants, right?”

“Huh?” Hajime flinched and leaned away, as though her words had physically struck him. “Wh-Where the hell did that come from?”

“I-It’s just a yes or no question,” she murmured. She raised a finger in the air, looking to the side. “...You never know with some people.” 

“No! The answer’s obviously no!” Hajime’s normally smooth voice crackled ever so slightly as he cried out. 

Mahiru nodded and smiled softly. It wasn’t that she minded the idea of him being sexually attracted to her—if anything, it was the opposite—but she abhorred the idea of being led on by a guy. Still, she knew Hajime wasn’t like that, and his adorable flustered response only affirmed that. She couldn’t help but wonder if she was just looking for excuses not to go through with this relationship. As much as she racked her mind, however, she couldn’t dissuade herself from her overwhelming attraction toward him. It infuriated her.

“I-I don’t understand why you’re so on edge, Mahiru,” Hajime said. “I mean, if what you said earlier is true, then your crush just kissed you, right? That would make most people pretty happy.”

“Well…” Mahiru gazed to the side, fidgeting with her thumbs. “It’s not that I-I’m not happy, but… I think it’s just…” She pursed her lips. She truly did want to confess her insecurities to him—she knew from experience that Hajime was the kind of thoughtful person who would find something to say to make her feel better, after all—but there was nonetheless a knot tightening in her throat, constricting her voice. She tried fiddling with the loop of her tie, but it didn’t help.

Finally, however, Mahiru blurted out. “Wh-Why would you choose me out of all the girls on this island?” 

She saw Hajime’s perplexed, concerned expression and quickly elaborated, holding a finger up in the air as though to shush him. “I mean, don’t you think my talent is pretty basic compared to the others?  Everyone and their grandmother has an interest in photography these days, and …” She sighed and gazed down at her lap. “...I don’t even take unique or artsy photos, really. They’re just pictures of ordinary people.” She rubbed her forehead with the base of her palm, an intense depression swelling inside her chest. “And don’t you think I look pretty… well, plain ? Even my outfit is extraordinarily ordinary.” Mahiru felt her throat constrict again as she spoke. Sharing her insecurities was liberating, but saying them out loud also made her realize how frivolous they were, considering the deadly nature of their predicament. Besides, she was confessing this all to a boy. It didn’t seem right. 

“Mahiru…” Hajime murmured.

Mahiru glanced up at him, expecting him to look amused, or even annoyed at her long rambling. Instead, however, he looked sympathetic and serious, and as their eyes met a comforting warmth enveloped her, as though his gaze was a blanket wrapping around her shoulders. Indeed, just as she was about to look away, Hajime reached out a hand and placed it on her shoulder. She flinched at the touch—it wasn’t that it was unwelcome, but it felt strange to have a guy touch her. 

“I understand how you feel,” Hajime said, “but… your worries are completely unfounded, Mahiru. You might think your talent is ordinary, but it’s not. I mean, you were scouted by Hope’s Peak for a reason, right? B-Besides, I’ve seen all your photos, and… they’re spectacular. I mean, those photo albums we looked at earlier… Somehow, even though we’re in such a horrible situation, you manage to capture such beautiful shots of people’s smiles. That takes talent.” His hand squeezed around her shoulder. By now, she had become used to the touch, and the pressure was surprisingly comforting.

Mahiru blinked slowly and gazed away. “I guess…” 

“Hell, even if I thought your talent was lame… it’s not like I have any room to talk, do I?” Hajime added. “I don’t even remember my freaking talent.” He laughed, although Mahiru noticed that he sounded a little bitter.

“I-I’m sure you have a fantastic talent, Hajime,” Mahiru said. “You’re here with the rest of us, aren’t you?” 

He nodded, although he seemed to avoid her gaze. “And that’s not it, of course,” Hajime added. “I mean, you’re ignoring all your positive traits. You’re so caring and kind toward the group—everyone likes you, you know? Even Hiyoko loves you, and that girl hates everyone…” He laughed softly, but his face soon became serious again. “Especially now that Byakuya is gone… it feels like the island really needs someone like you to bind us all together. And, hell, you’re probably the bravest person here, Mahiru.” 

Mahiru’s eyes narrowed. She stared at Hajime incredulously. “B-Bravest? Me? Jeez, just because I’m feeling down doesn’t mean you have to go and make things up just to comfort me. ...I’ll be fine.”

“H-Hey,” he interjected. “I’m not making it up.” His speech was surprising assured, as though there was no doubt in his mind that his words were the truth. “Remember when Fuyuhiko was hurling all those death threats around? You were the only one who stood up to him, even though he’s the heir to the fearsome Kuzuryu Clan. I-I mean seriously, you yelled at a literal yakuza! Even you have to admit that takes some bravery.” 

Mahiru blinked slowly. After a moment, she laughed softly. “...It’s not that big of a deal. Without his clan to back him up here, he’s just… a petulant child hurling empty threats. I mean, what’s he going to do? He doesn’t exactly have a hitman on standby to come and beat me to death with a bat or something, you know. Still,” she added, her voice growing quiet. “...Thanks. I guess even you can be really sweet when you try, Hajime.”

“Anyway,” Hajime said, “even if you consider yourself ‘plain,’ I don’t think that’s a bad thing. Let’s be honest, some of the personalities here are a little… questionable. Sometimes it’s nice to just talk to someone more reasonable for a change.” 

Mahiru laughed softly. “...I guess that’s right. You’re pretty much the only normal guy here, Hajime. So, provided I don’t want to be completely and utterly alone here, I suppose I’m stuck with you,” she teased, tilting her head and smiling. 

Hajime laughed, and he squeezed her shoulder again. Mahiru was realizing that she liked the touch more than she would’ve liked to admit. Feeling suddenly emboldened, she reached out and placed a hand on Hajime’s chest. He looked confused, but realization washed over his face as Mahiru leaned forward and placed her lips against his. A fuzzy joy blossomed in her torso as Hajime wrapped his arms around her upper back—he was hesitant at first, but soon he was eagerly grasping at her frame. Somehow, the kiss felt considerably more relaxed, yet passionate, than the last one. When they finally parted, Mahiru’s heart was spasming in her chest.

Hajime, meanwhile, was blushing ever-so-slightly. “...That totally came out of nowhere,” he murmured. “It was nice, though.”

“...I guess I don’t seem like the romantic type, do I?” Mahiru whispered. 

Hajime laughed. “...Uh, I hope I don’t offend you by saying this, but not really. To be honest, this whole meeting has been really surreal.” 

Mahiru wasn’t surprised by his words. She knew she gave off a somewhat cold impression when it came to the boys. Moreover, she had never been one to daydream about relationships—that is, until recently. Truthfully, it was a little embarrassing to imagine herself being in a committed, lovey-dovey relationship. The idea also made her a little uncomfortable. She wondered if she could truly be the independent person she wanted to be if she was in a relationship. The idea of trusting in one person so completely was undoubtedly daunting, and she liked being alone, especially when taking photos or traveling. Yet, she also couldn’t help but feel warm when she thought about going on dates, exchanging chocolates and flowers, or baking desserts with a partner. 

At that moment, a deep reverberating chime snapped Mahiru out of her daydreaming. Immediately, she and Hajime fixed their eyes on the monitor attached to the wall of the room; a moment later, the screen buzzed to life, and on it appeared an all-too-familiar image of Monokuma holding a tropical drink.

“Ahem! Hope’s Peak Academy School Trip Executive Committee has an announcement to make,” rang the shrill squeak of Monokuma. Immediately, Mahiru felt a wave of unease and irritation sweep over her. It wasn’t that Monokuma’s announcement really meant anything particularly bad—other than that nighttime had arrived, and Hajime might soon be leaving her cottage—but any reminder of that bear’s existence—and, by extension, the killing game—was unwelcome.

“...I’m glad this day was uneventful, at least,” Mahiru murmured. “I-In terms of the group as a whole, obviously. Um… things have been quite interesting here, at least.” 

“Yeah,” Hajime replied. He cleared his throat. “...Say, Mahiru, can I have my, uh… my shirt back? I’ll just wash it in my own cottage—it’s not a big deal.” 

Mahiru blinked slowly. Just as Hajime was about to stand up, however, she leaned forward and poked him in the chest. “Hey, who said you’re leaving?”

“Huh? I-I mean, Monokuma, I guess?” Hajime said.

“Jeez,” she retorted. “Don’t tell me you’re letting a deranged stuffed animal boss you around.”

“It’s not that I’m letting Monokuma boss me around,” he said. “It’s just time to sleep, isn’t it?”

Mahiru couldn’t think of a witty response. She knew if she asked him to stay, it would look ridiculously desperate. Instead, she gazed away and closed her eyes, breathing deeply and contemplating if this was really a good idea. Maybe it would be for the best if she just let him leave. The idea of things progressing so quickly between them was tantalizing, but it was also terrifying.

“Wait,” Hajime interjected. “Hold on a sec. D-Don’t tell me you want me to stay with you overnight, Mahiru.”

Mahiru flinched and furrowed her brow. “H-Hey! What kind of comment is that? You don’t actually think I would let you… sleep with me, right?”

Hajime looked away. “Yeah, I figured.” 

“What does that mean…?” Mahiru raised a hand in front of her, the corner of her lip quivering. Was she mistaken, or had he actually just sounded a little disappointed? She didn’t know why, but her heart was beating rapidly. 

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it,” Hajime said, climbing to his feet. 

At that moment, however, Mahiru gripped his arm. He gasped slightly, but then laughed as he turned to see her flustered expression. She felt like she was burning up with embarrassment, but the last thing she wanted was to be alone with her thoughts right now. If that meant sacrificing her dignity, so be it. Besides, his smile was mesmerizing—and she certainly didn’t mind the firmness of his muscle underneath her hand.

“F-Fine,” Mahiru blurted. “...I guess you can stay, if you really want.”

“You seem like the one who wants me to stay…”

Mahiru sighed, squeezing her eyes closed in frustration. “Shut up…” She didn’t know if he enjoyed teasing her, or if it was simply a natural consequence of his sardonic personality, but Hajime semed to be trying his best to make her feel utterly mortified. She hated the fact that a guy was having anything close to this effect on her, and yet she still didn’t want him to leave, either.

“Hey,” Hajime said, taking a seat again with an amused, but uncertain expression. “I-I don’t mind, actually. It’d be nice change of pace, at least. Though, If I’m going to be staying here, how are we going to deal with the showering situation? The bathroom walls here are made of glass, after all…”

Mahiru glanced at the shower room, which was separated from the rest of the room by a thin glass pane. It was an odd design choice, in her opinion, but at the very least it offered an escape form the view of the surveillance cameras. She didn’t think she’d be able to take a shower knowing someone might’ve been watching her.

 “What’s the problem?” she asked. “Are you some kind of pervert who can’t resist a glimpse of a girl taking a shower?” 

“N-No, of course not…!” 

Mahiru sighed. “Yeah, I know.” She crossed her arms, tapping her arm. “I mean… I don’t know if I’d mind anyway…”

“W-Wait, what?” Hajime interjected.

“Nothing,” she hissed.

“You can’t just say something like—”

Mahiru sighed, leaning back until her head was flat against the sheets of the bed. She idly kicked her legs and forth as they dangled from the edge. “Jeez, if you’re going to insist...What I’m trying to say, I guess, is that… I-I’m okay with you seeing more of me, if you want.” She slammed her eyes shut and covered her face with her hands, burying the tips of her fingers among her choppy bangs. She couldn’t quite banish the thought in the back of her mind that this was all a pointless, trivial waste of time.

Opening one eye and peeking between two of her fingers, Mahiru watched as Hajime turned toward and leaned down until his elbows were resting on the bed, his cheek resting in the palm of his head. His forearms and chest flexed subtly with each movement of his head, and he gazed at her with a mix of exasperation, amusement, and affection. He seemed to expect her to continue speaking. It was at times like these that Mahiru wished she could understand what thoughts were spinning in his mind.

“Like… you know,” she murmured, blood thumping in her ears. “You took off your shirt, right? So… don’t you think that… you know… it would make sense if I… ugh. N-Nevermind.”

Hajime blinked rapidly. “N-Now you’re just talking in riddles. What are you trying to say, exactly? I’m sorry, but I don’t really understand.”

“Jeez,” she hissed. “A-Are you really going to make me just say it…? Isn’t it the boy’s job to initiate this kind of thing?” She pressed her hands harder into her face, until she could feel the firm touch of her cheekbones dig into the base of her fingers.

“Hold on a sec,” Hajime said. “...You’re not implying anything sexual, are you?” 

Mahiru shuddered viscerally and gulped. It felt like her entire face was crawling with scorching flames—she imagined her skin must’ve been glowing a bright red even through her splayed hands. “No!” she cried out. “You freaking… degenerate pervert. Ugh.” She rubbed her fingers into the skin of her forehead underneath her bangs. “W-Well… maybe. I don’t know,” she added, in a lower, shakier voice. 

Hajime’s were wide. “W-Wait, are you serious? …I really wouldn’t have expected that from you of all people.”

Mahiru suddenly sat up, thrusting her palms onto the bed by her side. She furrowed her brow, eyes narrowing. “If you’re going to act like that, you can just leave, okay?” She exhaled sharply, her lip trembling—her hands instinctively clawed at the bedsheets. A deep vexation was boiling inside her—although she wasn't sure whether it was directed toward him or herself—and she only became angry as she stared at Hajime’s shirtless torso and perceptive olive eyes. Why the hell was she feeling like this? Just as he said, this wasn’t like her at all. She needed to get a grip on herself.

“H-Hey,” Hajime exclaimed. “I never said I disliked the idea…”

Mahiru jaw opened, but the words didn’t reach her brain until a second later. A second later, Her face scrunched up in sudden concentration. “...What does that mean?”

Hajime reached over and placed a hand on her lower thigh. “I-I think you’re pretty cute.” The touch sent a tingling surge across the length of her thigh, up toward the base of her spine. 

Mahiru sighed, crossing her arms—though her eyes flitted toward Hajime’s hand on her thigh, which was surprisingly warm. “Calling a girl ‘cute’ is such a cop-out, you know. It sounds like you’re complimenting them, but you’re not really saying anything meaningful or risky. …I mean, how do I know if you’re actually attracted to me?”

Hajime let out an exasperated scoff, lifting his hand from her body. “Wh-What am I supposed to say!?”

Mahiru knew she was being unreasonable right now. Here she was, having this opportunity practically fall into her lap, and she was still seemingly determined to screw it all up. She was shocked that Hajime even had the patience to deal with her crap. 

“...I don’t know. Just forget it,” she finally conceded, her voice meek. 

“I mean,” Hajime said. “Do you want me to call you hot or something? Cause… you are that, too.”

Mahiru let out an involuntary gasp—almost a squeak. “Really?” she asked. She shivered unwittingly.

“For sure. I-I mean, you're hot as hell, Mahiru,” Hajime said, his eyes scanning her body. His gaze sent a tingle across her skin. 

She narrowed her eyes and gestured expectantly toward Hajime. “...Are you going to elaborate?”

“Huh?” he asked. “...What do you mean?”

Mahoru shrugged. “Nevermind. Anyway… Hajime, you're not so bad looking yourself, you know. And that means a lot coming from me, cause… I think you can imagine that I don't compliment guys a lot.” 

“Oh, thanks—”

“D-Don’t let it get to your head,” she added. Here she was again, lashing out at someone who only meant well. She just couldn’t control herself, could she?

“Y-You’re giving off an absurd amount of mixed signals here, Mahiru…”

Mahiru gulped, and her eyes flitted to Hajime. Then she laid her back down again, clasping her hands on her stomach. She closed her eyes. “You’re just… really attractive, okay?” she said. “And it pisses me off. I-I know that sounds stupid, but it’s the truth… Ugh.” She suddenly raised a finger in the air. “Don’t respond to that.”

“Wh-What do you want me to do?” Hajime asked. “I mean, if I’m going to be staying here, we do need to figure out the shower arrangements, you know.”

“Jeez…” she murmured. “Here, how about this… Let’s just shower together, okay?”

“W-Wait, seriously!?” Hajime asked.

Mahiru sat up again, exhaling deeply and opening her eyes. “It’s not weird unless you make it weird,” she whispered, all the while avoiding eye contact. “And like I said… I don’t mind you seeing more of me, if you want.”

Hajime blinked rapidly. “I mean, if you’re fine with it, I-I don’t mind, but… are you really okay with that?”

“Hey, I’m the one who suggested it, aren’t I?” Mahiru replied. “Jeez… you don’t have to make such a big deal of everything. Come on, let’s go.” Without giving him a chance to get a word in edgewise, she stood up, patted down her pleated skirt, and grabbed Hajime’s wrist. He grunted as she yanked him to his feet, almost slipping and crashing into the floor as she dragged him over to the shower room of the cottage, beyond the purview of the surveillance camera. She felt a little lightheaded at the prospect of actually getting undressed in front of him, but she knew if she stopped to collect herself she would just chicken out of it.

“So,” Mahiru said, after a few seconds had passed, “are you going to take your clothes off or not?”

“W-Wait, just like that!?” Hajime protested. 

Mahiru raised a palm besides her, shutting one of her eyes. “Do you tend to shower with your clothes on, Hajime? I know everyone has their own idiosyncrasies, but that’s a bit much, even compared to the others on this island… Or is this your coy way of asking me to undress you?”

“What? Undress me!?” 

“...I don’t mind,” Mahiru mumbled, gazing at the floor.

“N-No, I’m fine,” Hajime said, holding his hands in front of him. “...I’ll just do it myself.” After exhaling deeply, Hajime reached down and undid the buckle of his belt before pulling it from the hem of his jeans. “Uh… is there a place I should be putting my clothes?”

Mahiru held a finger up in the air. “Just fold them and place them on top of the washing machine. I’ll deal with them later.” 

Shrugging, Hajime dropped the belt, and the buckle rattled as it hit the tiling of the shower room. Then, after a long moment of hesitation, he gripped the hem of his jeans and leaned down to pull it from his legs, before doing the same with a gray pair of boxers. Finally, he squatted down and pulled off each of his socks.

Just like that, he was completely naked. Mahiru tried to act nonchalant as Hajime sheepishly folded his garments and placed them on the washing machine, but her eyes seemed to have a mind of their own as they wandered across his exposed body. A solid pair of thighs flexed subtly as he walked across the shower room—all the while desperately avoiding any eye contact—and Mahiru finally got a chance to soak in the sight of his toned back. And, as he leaned against the wall, she finally saw his cock. It was still mostly flaccid, but the size still seemed daunting to Mahiru—then again, she didn’t really have any prior reference for what one actually looked like in person.

“...You look nice,” she murmured, finally returning her gaze to Hajime’s face, though she avoided staring directly into his eyes. Her face was incredibly warm, and he seemed equally embarrassed.

“Uh… thanks?” he said, blinking slowly. “Are you going to, you know…” Hajime gestured vaguely at her fully clothed body. 

“Jeez, are you really that eager to see me naked? You’re such a sexual deviant,” she teased, crossing her arms.

“This whole thing was your—”

“Fine,” Mahiru interjected. “I have to put my camera away first, though.” She took a step toward the cottage proper before suddenly casting a glance over her shoulder. “Unless you want me to take nude shots of you first?”

“N-No, I think I’m okay,” Hajime replied, eyes wide.

Mahiru shrugged and walked over to the table in the corner of her room. After depositing her prized camera and its strap next to a pile of photo albums, she suddenly froze in her tracks. Was she really going to do this? The idea seemed much more intimidating now that it was her turn to undress. But she knew she couldn’t back out of it now. She had been sending mixed signals before, sure, but telling a guy to undress only to kick him out would’ve been a new level of ridiculousness. So, steeling her resolve, Mahiru walked back to the shower room, where Hajime was standing around awkwardly.

After taking a deep breath to steady herself—she felt slightly woozy from  a turbulent blend of anticipation, arousal, and anxiety—Mahiru swiftly undid the knot of her plaid red-and-white tie and placed it next to Hajime’s folded clothes. Then, she gripped the straps of her olive-green jumper and pulled them from her shoulders. She hesitated as the fabric bunched around her waist, but after a cursory glance at Hajime’s intrigued face she pulled the dress down across her hips and thighs, until she was finally able to step out from the fabric. She was burning up with embarrassment, but now she was definitely in too deep to back out of it. Accordingly, she carefully undid the buttons of her dress shirt and, with her back to Hajime, pulled the fabric from her frame. She spent an unnaturally long time folding the garment, as if procrastinating on the next step; finally, however, she reached behind her back and undid the strap of her bra. Covering her chest with an arm, she leaned down and slipped off her panties with her other hand. 

After depositing her underwear on top of the washing machine, Mahiru finally turned toward Hajime, still covering her chest and with a hand covering her pelvis. “So… what do you think?”

Hajime’s lips parted slightly, as though he was about to say something, but no words came out. Instead, his eyes greedily scanned across her body, hovering especially around her chest. She might’ve been imagining things, but she thought she saw a stirring in his cock. 

“Wow,” Hajime said. “You’re really hot. You know that, right?” 

A cozy tingling blossomed in her lower stomach and back. She tried to conjure a response, but in the end all she could do was nod meekly, a sheepish smile spreading across her lips. After a few seconds of awkward silence, she finally spoke in a low mumble. “L-Let’s just get started.”

Without waiting for a response, she finally lifted her hands from her body and stepped toward the shower room’s rectangular tub. The air was chilly, and goosebumps spread across her upper arms. Breathing deeply the crisp air, she leaned forward and generously twisted the knob to turn the shower on. A shrill hissing emanated across the shower room, and a moment later a jet of water shot out from the shower head. Standing with her arms crossed, she turned back to face Hajime again.

“Just so you know,” Mahiru insisted, leaning forward with hands on her hips. “We’re just taking a shower, that’s all. Don’t expect anything else.”

“G-Got it,” Hajime replied.

She sighed. “I-I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. You’re such a bad influence, you know that?”

“Um… I’m honored, I guess?”

“Uh-huh.” 

A long awkward moment of silence passed.

“L-Let’s just get in,” Mahiru said. Without waiting for a reply, she stepped inside the tug, breathing deeply as the hot water washed over her chest and stomach. Glancing over her shoulder, she beckoned impatiently for Hajime to join her. Nodding, he stepped inside. Immediately, however, he started, practically leaping backward. 

“H-Holy shit,” Hajime cried out, raising his arms to shield himself.

Mahiru wheeled around. “Huh?”

“D-Don’t tell me you really enjoy showering with water this hot,” Hajime said, noticeably avoiding the spray of the shower head. “You’re going to cook us alive!” 

“Jeez,” Mahiru said. She leaned forward and poked Hajime in the chest. “It’s not my fault you’re weak.” She raised a palm next to her. “Just deal with it, okay? I’m sure you’ll get used to it.” She turned around again and closed her eyes, savoring the warmth crashing onto her like a blanket descending upon her limbs, melting away the chill of the nighttime air. Her muscles relaxed, and she momentarily found herself forgetting entirely about Hajime’s presence. As she began to adapt to the heat, she instinctively leaned forward and twisted the shower knob further. A moment later, the water was coursing with an even more ferocious heat.

“Jesus, somebody save me!” Hajime cried out.

“Hey,” Mahiru objected. “Calm down, will you? J-Just consider this the price for seeing me naked, okay? Here, I’ll even wash you.” She wheeled around and stepped behind Hajime.

“Ow,” he murmured as the bulk of the jet of water suddenly slammed into his chest and stomach. 

Mahiru giggled softly, standing on her tip-toes and nestling her head in Hajime’s shoulder. “You’re such a handful, sometimes. Pass me the body wash, okay?”

Hajime sighed, his shoulders heaving as he did. “Just saying, if I die from this, you’ll be held liable.” Then, he leaned forward and took hold of a medium-sized white bottle of body wash situated on a small metal rack next to a variety of shampoos, conditioners, and soaps which Mahiru had procured from the supermarket. He handed it behind him, and Mahiru took it from his hands. 

“Let me guess,” Mahiru said. “You’re the kind of uncivilized savage who just washes themselves with a bar of soap and their bare hands?”

“Uh… Is that really a problem? I mean, what do you use?” 

Mahiru laughed. “You’re so predictable. Whatever. It’s okay, I guess I’ll go along with it this time.” 

“D-Don’t tell me that you’re only doing that because you want to touch me with your bare hands…”

“H-Hey,” she hissed. “Of course not!” 

Hajime shrugged. “If you insist.”

After taking a moment to collect herself, Mahiru eagerly popped the cap off and squeezed a generous helping of the liquid onto her palm. Smiling softly, she lathered the soap onto Hajime’s upper back.

“You’re really warm,” she murmured.

Hajime glanced over his shoulder. “Y-Yeah, cause I’m being bathed in the flames of hell right now.”

“You sound like Gundham.” Mahiru giggled as she rubbed Hajime’s back and shoulders, taking her time to feel the contours of his firm muscle. She quickly fell into a familiar rhythm as her hands swept across the small of his back, all the way up toward his neck. Maybe it was because she was behind him, and he wasn’t directly looking at her, or maybe it was because she enjoyed helping others, but Mahiru found herself relaxing considerably. She closed her eyes and hummed softly. Ironically, this wasn’t actually the first time she had washed someone else on this island, but there was a significantly different atmosphere with Hajime than with Hiyoko. Even though the movements were largely the same, it felt considerably more intimate. 

“...You would be a good masseuse,” Hajime commented.

Mahiru squeezed his shoulders. “Really?” 

“Yeah,” he replied. “You seem like you’re… good with your hands.”

“Hey!” she shouted. “Wh-What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I-It’s nothing like that!”

Mahiru laughed softly. After applying another helping of body wash to her palm, Mahiru trailed her hands from Hajime’s back toward his sides, and then his chest, exploring the contour of his muscles with her fingers. She leaned forward, splaying her palms across his pecs and gently tapping his nipples with her index fingers. Hajime flinched slightly as her chest pressed against his upper back, her head just inches from his neck. Normally, the idea of pressing her body up against a guy would have made her physically recoil, but it somehow felt natural right now. Besides, she liked the feeling of his solid, warm back pressing against her—it felt like she had someone to lean on, both physically and emotionally. 

“Do you work out?” she asked, idly as her hands swept across his chest.

“Uh… N-No, not exactly,” Hajime replied, sounding much more flustered than usual—Mahiru wondered if it was because she was so close to him. “Nekomaru tried to force me into an exercise regiment, but I managed to get away.”

“Jeez,” Mahiru said as she applied a lather of soap to Hajime’s stomach. “You guys are so lucky. You don’t even have to do anything and you end up being so strong.”

“I-I don’t think I’m very strong,” Hajime replied. “Besides, I’m sure you could get strong if you tried.” 

“No,” she replied, her hand drifting toward Hajime’s pelvis. She took a step forward until her stomach and thighs were pressed against him as well, practically wrapping herself around his torso. “I… don’t really like exercising, anyway.” 

“H-Hold on,” Hajime said, glancing down. “Wh-What are you doing with your hand?”

Mahiru’s hand drifted toward the bottom of his pelvis. As she glanced over his shoulder, she noticed that his cock looked considerably more firm than it had just a few minutes ago—she felt a pang of pride at the idea that she was turning him on right now. “Nothing,” she said, giggling softly. “I’m just washing you, okay?”

With that, she slipped her hand onto the base of Hajime’s cock. He grunted, and she herself gasped softly. Mahiru wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but she was nonetheless amazed by the fullness in her palm. It was surprisingly warm, and as her fingers wrapped around the shaft, she felt it twitch and harden even more in her hand. For a moment, she simply held there hand there, fascinated by the rigidity of it, the veiny texture, and the subtle pulsating—she wondered if she was actually feeling his heartbeat in her hand. 

“Th-That’s my dick!” Hajime objected.

“...And?” Mahiru moved her hand across his shaft until her palm was cupping the head of his penis. Without further ado, she began to lather soap back and forth across the entire length of his shaft. Hajime gasped softly, and as Mahiru slid her hand, she couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have the cock inside her. It was mystifying to think that something like it could even fit inside her small body; the idea was a little scary, but it was also oddly tantalizing. A fluttering sensation was building in her lower torso, and a crackle of electricity danced across her lower back and thighs. Indeed, the more she thought about it, the more decisively she found her hand moving across the shaft of Hajime’s cock. She wondered if he was fantasizing about putting it inside her, too. Normally, she would’ve detested the thought of someone thinking about her in that way, but right now the prospect only made her feel giddy.

“...Does that feel good?” Mahiru whispered, her lips brushing against the nape of Hajime’s neck.

“I-I thought you said you were just washing me,” Hajime breathed.

“J-Just answer the question,” she hissed, still stroking her hand.

Hajime let out a soft moan. “Y-Yeah, definitely.”

Mahiru smiled to herself. For what seemed like ages, she simply hovered behind him, stroking her hand back and forth while her other arm clung to his torso, her fingers drifting across his skin. Hot water splashed continually on her arms, and the entire room was slowly being engulfed in warm steam. Nonetheless, over the sound of hissing water, she could faintly hear Hajime increasingly strained breathing. Mahiru didn’t really know what she was doing, but she was glad that he seemed to like it, though her forearm was beginning to feel tired.

“Okay,” Mahiru murmured. “I-I should probably get back to actually washing you…” 

Hajime nodded, and after taking a moment to collect herself, Mahiru squatted down to rub soap into his legs. She then stood up again and applied the body wash to his arms, taking her time to savor the firmness of his shoulders and upper arms, as well as the sleek, defined muscle of his forearms. 

“Pass me the shampoo,” she murmured. Hajime did as she asked, and she poured a small blob of pink shampoo into the palm of her hand. “By the way,” she added. “Since this is my shampoo, you’re going to smell like flowers now. Got it?”

“Uh… sure,” he replied. “I don’t really care, honestly.”

“Jeez, you should put more effort into presenting yourself,” Mahiru said. She made a mental note to herself that she would have to pick out a cologne for Hajime as well, and she idly wondered what he would look like in an elegant, tailored black suit—he looked pretty good in his dress shirt and tie, after all. Still daydreaming, she reached up and lathered the shampoo across Hajime’s short, spiky brown hair. After spreading the liquid throughout his hair, she scrunched her fingers and began to massage it into his scalp, still thinking about all the things she was going to do with him. Maybe after they got out of here, they could go on a dinner date to a fancy sushi restaurant. She normally didn’t care too much about her appearance, but she liked the idea of putting on an elegant dress and a nice pair of earrings—maybe even some fancy make-up—for an outing with a partner. 

“Close your eyes,” Mahiru instructed, grabbing hold of the detachable shower head and aiming it toward Hajime’s head. He grunted as the scalding water ran over his scalp, but nonetheless remained still as she ran her hands through his hair. Once the shampoo had been thoroughly washed away, she took her hands off him  and placed them on her hips, eying his body. “The conditioner can wait until later… I think we… might be spending a while in here.” She had insisted earlier that they were just here to take a shower, but who was she kidding? She smiled at the audacity of that lie. “Okay, now turn around.”

Hajime wheeled around, brushing a strand of wet hair from his eye. 

“...You don’t look so bad with wet hair,” Mahiru commented, running her palm through his hairline. 

“Th-Thanks,” he mumbled. She couldn’t help notice that he was still hard, and indeed his eyes seemed to gravitate toward her body. Hajime cleared his throat. “So, you want me to wash you now, right?”

“That would be nice,” Mahiru said, smiling. She stepped in front of Hajime, exhaling deeply as the bulk of the shower’s intensity cascaded across her front.

“A-Are you sure you’re okay with me touching you, though?” he asked.

Mahiru blinked slowly and glanced over her shoulder. “...You act like I didn’t just have my hand on your… you know.” Her face suddenly felt warm—and not from the hot water. She turned away again and briskly handed the bottle of body wash over to Hajime. She heard the distinct pop of the bottle’s cap, followed by a low squeak. A moment later, Hajime’s soapy hands were curled against her shoulders.

Mahiru flinched instinctively, but she soon found herself enjoying the firm, yet surprisingly graceful touch of Hajime’s slender fingers. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply the steam of the shower room. For several seconds, Hajime vigorously rubbed the soap into her shoulders. Then, his hand drifted to the nape of her neck and her upper back; Mahiru gasped softly as he trailed his fingers down her spine and splayed his palms across the small of her back. Earlier she had worried that it would be awkward having him touch her body like this—she hadn’t even let Hiyoko touch her like this when they were showering together—but it was surprisingly relaxing. She had always seen Hajime as a bit of a clumsy person, but his touch was nonetheless soothing. More importantly, however, the intimacy of it made her heart flutter, and it only intensified the aching she felt in her lower body. 

For what seemed like ages, Mahiru simply soaked in the water and the touch of Hajime’s soapy hands. After a while, however, she noticed that he seemed reluctant to move his hands off of her back and onto other parts of her body. She glanced over her shoulder. “H-Hey, what are you waiting for?” she asked.

“Wh-What do you mean?” Hajime asked, lifting his hands from her back. 

“Jeez,” Mahiru said. “...I thought boys were supposed to be sex-crazed maniacs. Why haven’t you touched my boobs yet?”

“Wait, you’re okay with—”

Exhaling sharply, Mahiru gripped Hajime’s wrist and jerked his arm forward until his palm was sprawled across one of her breasts. He gasped, and for a moment his arm seemed almost limp, as though he had lost control of his body. After a few seconds, however, his palm began to twitch, and he began to rub the pad of his index in circles across her nipple. Finally, he reached his other arm around her back until both hands were gently but firmly cupping her breasts. She couldn’t help but giggle softly at his trepidation, even though she herself was shuddering slightly underneath his touch.

“That’s… more like it,” she whispered. 

“Okay,” Hajime replied, applying another helping of body wash onto his palm. With that, he placed his hands on her chest again, eagerly lathering the soap across her breasts, collar bone, and the front of her neck—his fingers underneath his chin made Mahiru feel surprisingly giddy. She closed her eyes again and let herself be engulfed by the sensation of his hands wandering across her torso. Soon, his hand was drifting down her stomach. She wasn’t sure when he had stepped forward, but she suddenly realized that his solid chest was pressing against her back, and she could feel a hard rod poking against her. 

“...You’re really hard,” she murmured.

“S-Sorry!” he cried out, taking a step back.“I-I mean, I’m touching your—”

“No, it’s okay. I like it.” Mahiru laughed softly. A moment later, Hajime stepped forward again and wrapped his arms around her once more. With that, they fell into a peaceful silence once more as his hand drifted across her stomach, slipping between her thighs—at first, she thought he really was dead set on just washing her, but she began to wonder if he would try to pleasure her as well. Indeed, as Hajime rubbed her inner thighs, she could feel an intense crackling in her lower body, like sparks from a hissing fire. “...You can touch me there too, you know.”

“Y-You don’t mean…?”

Mahiru nodded. “I want it,” she whispered. She realized at this point she had essentially sacrificed all her dignity, anyway—at this point, there was nothing to be lost by just being honest. She didn’t think he’d judge her, anyway.

Hajime must’ve been apprehensive, because his hands endearingly froze for several seconds. After that, however, his fingers slipped across her inner thigh toward her vulva. She inhaled sharply, squirming against Hajime’s frame behind her as the pad of his index finger tapped her clit. Then, just as Mahiru was feeling used to the pressure of his finger, he began to rub it gently in circles across her clit. She let out a squeak, and her eyes momentarily went wide. She didn’t know what she had expected, exactly, but it was an overwhelming sensation that sent visceral shockwaves through her limbs, and for a moment she almost wanted to grab Hajime’s arm and pull it away from her. Yet, at the same time, she felt a sizzling pleasure coursing through her—one that leapt across her skin in unison with the frenzied splashing of scalding water across her body—and as the seconds passed she began to relax. As Mahiru stared down at her legs, she found herself mesmerized by the subtle flicking of Hajime’s hand and the flexing of his forearm—his skin was pale, and she could faintly see the purple-green hue of his veins beneath his smooth skin. 

Finally, she closed her eyes. “Th-That… feels good,” she murmured between incredibly heavy breaths. 

Hajime didn’t respond, though Mahiru felt the rush of his breath against the base of her neck. He must’ve been focused entirely on the intricate movements of his hand. Regardless, Mahiru didn’t mind the silence. Indeed, the quiet only made her feel more anticipation—she desperately wished to be able to peer inside Hajime’s mind and hear what he was thinking. Was he feeling the same lightheaded surge of affection and disbelief that she was feeling? Did he feel the same pride listening to her gasps as she had listening to his? 

Eventually, however, the sensations of pleasure erupting from Hajime’s touch began to drown out Mahiru’s daydreams. It felt as though the bliss was physically filling her body and mind, leaving no room for thoughts or worries, only a vague sense of happiness. Her breathing was accelerating, and growing increasingly ragged, occasionally hitching when she was touched from certain angles. Her heart pounded in her chest, and blood thumped in her ears—even with closed eyelids, her sight seemed to buzz and flutter. She felt unbelievably hot, but it wasn’t the same boiling sensation she had felt in their earlier conversations—it was a fuzzier, more comforting heat, like the glow of a fire on a cold winter night.

As the minutes passed, the world itself seemed to fall away from view, as though the walls of the shower room and the cottage were melting around her. Mahiru felt as though she was floating in a hazy void—the warmth engulfing her seemed to tighten itself around her limbs and body. She found herself biting her lip as a vigorous tension built inside her lower body. An intense ecstasy hissed in her pelvis, and her breathing amidst the spiraling steam became increasingly ragged, almost to the point of discomfort. The tension was growing more and more taut with each passing second.

Then, it finally released.

A sharp cry crashed its way through her pursed lips as an intense, pulsating pleasure swelled inside her. Her legs shuddered violently, and she instinctively gripped onto Hajime’s arm to steady herself; meanwhile, he placed a hand on her side to steady her. Her toes curled, and for several seconds every part of her body tingled, as though sizzling sparks were flying from her skin—even her scalp seemed to buzz subtly. Even as the sensation began to wane, she found herself gasping heavily, her skin flushed. It took several more moments until her awareness of the world around her seemed to seep back into her mind. She became aware once more of the splashing of hot water on her chest and the feeling of a warm, solid body behind her. In the background, she could even hear a low, muddy voice. Finally, the words materialized.

“Hey,” Hajime said, squeezing her shoulder. “Y-You’re okay, right?”

Mahiru turned around, blinking rapidly. “Y-Yeah, I’m fine,” she mumbled, breathily. “Why?” She gulped, stretching her shoulders and splaying her palms in the air.

His brow creased. “You… kind of spaced out.” 

Mahiru gazed away. “That just… felt…” She took a deep, ragged breath before continuing. “R-Really, really good.”

Hajime’s eyes lit up. “Oh, for real? …That’s good.” He smiled awkwardly. 

“Jeez,” Mahiru said. “Wh-What else did you expect when you decided to put your hand there?”

“...I guess that’s a good point.”

And just like that, they fell back into a comfortable silence. Hajime grabbed the bottle of body wash again and lathered his hands before applying the soap to Mahiru’s body. She closed her eyes, steadying her breath and gathering her thoughts as he rubbed her legs and arms—even now, her skin still felt sensitive to his touch. After a few minutes, she heard the click of another bottle and felt Hajime’s soapy hands run through her hair. She exhaled deeply as he lovingly massaged the shampoo into her scalp. This entire situation felt surreal, but in a good way. When she had first found herself on this strange island, she never would have imagined she would become close to anyone there, let alone find herself in this position. Indeed, the thought probably would have terrified her back then—even earlier, when they had been talking in her room, she had felt incredibly uneasy. Now, however, she felt nothing but a humming satisfaction, and a subtle aching in her heart.

Hajime reached forward and raised the shower head, bathing her scalp in hot water. “I… think we’re done, right?”

Mahiru’s eyes shot open, and she wheeled around. Her eyes soon narrowed as water dripped across her face; she gripped Hajime’s wrist just as he was reaching for the shower knob. After forcing it back to his side, she leaned forward and poked him in the chest. “Who said we’re done?”

“Uh… W-Wait, are we not done?” 

“Jeez.” Mahiru sighed. “You really don’t have a romantic bone in your body, do you? We’re just getting started.” She was surprised by her own forwardness, but she wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass her by. This was the most at peace she had felt since she had come to the island, and she didn’t want it to end so unceremoniously.

“F-For real?” Hajime asked, eyes wide. “What… do you want to do?” 

Mahiru opened her mouth, but she soon realized she didn’t really know what to do next either. “Er… I don’t know. You’re the boy here.” She raised a palm next to her, gazing at Hajime through one opened eye.

“Wh-What does that have to do it!?” Hajime laughed sardonically.

She sighed and crossed her arms. “...Nevermind.” Her eyes drifted across Hajime’s figure—his shoulders, his chest, his arms and hands, and then, of course, his cock. It was still as erect as ever, and its size had noticeably swelled compared to when she had seen it flaccid. She couldn’t help but wonder what he was feeling—was he as turned on as her? 

“You know,” Mahiru mumbled. “Since you, um, did all that for me earlier… I wouldn’t mind, you know…” She gestured vaguely toward his lower body, covering her face with her other palm.

“Huh?” Hajime asked. “...I-I don’t get it.” He reached up to rub the back of his neck. 

Mahiru slammed her other palm into her cheek. “...You’re really hopeless sometimes, Hajime, y-you know that?” She crossed her arms, pouting slightly. “I’m referring to, you know… sucking…” Her voice trailed off; instead, she stared expectantly at Hajime with a furrowed brow, hoping he would finally take the hint. It was cute seeing him act oblivious and flustered, but she sometimes really wished that he would be more assertive.

“Wait… you don’t mean…? A-Are you sure?”

Mahiru shot an apprehensive half-smile. “...Y-You don’t have to make it sound so serious. It’s just returning the favor.” She ran a hand through her wet hair, then leaned forward, hands on her hips. “Just go stand with your back to the shower head, okay?” 

Hajime blinked several times, but eventually he just wordlessly did as she asked, seemingly accepting his bewilderment. Mahiru breathed a sigh of relief and stepped in front of him. He looked a little apprehensive, but his expression grew increasingly eager as they stared at one another.

“Just saying,” Hajime commented. “If my back melts off, it’s still your fault.” He glanced over his shoulder at the jet of scalding water shooting at his back, which draped over his shoulders and arms. 

“Develop some mettle, won’t you?” Mahiru teased. “How are else are we supposed to go to saunas together?” 

“Who said we’re—oh, nevermind.” 

Mahiru smiled as she carefully slipped to her knees. She was actually thankful for the opportunity to sit down—she wasn’t sure if it was from her earlier photography adventures, her orgasm, or just the long day she had had, but her legs ached with fatigue. A small wave of anxiety crawled up her back as she stared up at Hajime, but the subtly twitching cock hovering in her was nonetheless oddly enticing. More than anything, she liked the idea of giving him pleasure in the same way he had done to her; indeed, she wondered if she would even be able to make him orgasm with her mouth alone. So, although her mind was racing, Mahiru closed her eyes, leaned forward, and wrapped her lips around the head of Hajime’s cock.

Hajime gasped softly, and she momentarily opened her eyes, making an unexpected flash of eye contact with him. His eyes were lit up, and he looked quite baffled—his arms were raised apprehensively in front of him, as if he couldn’t figure out where to place them. Mahiru closed her eyes again, smiling internally at his flustered expression, and slid her lips forward slightly. After getting used to the sensation of it in her mouth, she extended her tongue and swirled it gently around the head. She was surprised to find that it had a largely neutral taste, although there was a salty tinge of precum at the very tip.

After a moment of pause, Mahiru reached her hand up and grasped the base of his cock, feeling it pulse in her hand. She then began to kiss her way along the length of his shaft from multiple angles, her eyes squeezed tight in concentration. Occasionally, she would stick out her tongue and brush it across his cock, sometimes curling it as though she was trying to wrap it around his girth. All the while, she rhythmically pumped the base with her hand, gripping onto his hip with her other palm.

Hajime moaned softly as she did. “You look… really hot right now.” 

Mahiru didn’t open her eyes, but she felt a fluttering in her chest. She had thought she would feel embarrassed giving a blowjob, but right now she felt surprisingly at peace, even if she didn’t really know what she was doing—the fact that Hajime was enjoying it was enough motivation for her. Besides, it was oddly satisfying to feel her way across the shaft, exploring the veiny texture and subtle contours of the cock. 

Mahiru briefly lifted her lips from Hajime’s cock, and took a deep breath. Then, without further ado, she slipped her lips onto the head again, sliding them forward until the latter half of Hajime’s shaft was engulfed in her mouth. In response, Hajime let out a visceral groan. Mahiru’s eyes flitted open, but when her gaze flitted upward she saw that Hajime’s eyes were closed, his face scrunched in fierce, blissful concentration. She couldn’t smile, of course, but a tingle danced on the back of her scalp, and with that she closed her eyes again and continued to slowly move her lips back and forth across his shaft. At first, she was apprehensive, but she soon found herself bobbing her head with greater speed, incorporating her tongue as she went. Soon, she fell into a steady, satisfying rhythm.

Hajime didn’t speak, but his subtle moans and gasps with each pass of her lips, as well as his guttural groans and grunts as she swirled her tongue across his twitching length were all the praise Mahiru needed. The cock throbbed in her mouth, and his thigh—upon which her hand rested—shuddered sporadically. She realized she actually liked this feeling of being in control of his extraordinary pleasure; simply by moving her mouth, she could extract an intense reaction from him—there was no need to fumble around with words or more sophisticated shows of affection. Occasionally, she opened her eyes and glanced upward just to observe his expressions, sometimes making episodes of eye contact that felt strikingly intimate. She found herself actively trying to take in more of his length into her mouth, although she still remained apprehensive about taking him too deep—the last thing she wanted was to gag and make a fool out of herself. 

Several minutes passed in this manner. Even as Mahiru’s mind relaxed, however, she found her body becoming increasingly tired. Finally, she lifted her head from his cock, opening her eyes and blinking rapidly. She placed her hands on her knees and gasped for breath. Then, as she reached up and wiped a line of saliva from her lips, she glanced up at Hajime. 

“S-Sorry,” she murmured, giggling. “...My jaw got kind of tired.” 

Hajime returned her gaze with a red, sheepish expression. He blinked slowly, as though his mind was short-circuiting, before his lips finally moved. 

“H-Holy shit,” he said, breathily. “I don’t know what to say… that was amazing.”

Mahiru gulped. “I-It’s not a big deal, really…” she said, her face growing warm. Her eyes gravitated back toward his cock, which glistened with her saliva. Even though she was out of breath, she felt proud that she had been able to give him so much pleasure. Finally, after inhaling deeply one last time, she slowly climbed to her feet. She faced Hajime, but avoided eye contact—instead, her eyes lingered on his chest, slick with water.

Suddenly, she felt a hand underneath her chin. Mahiru tilted her head upward, eyes wide, but before she could react Hajime was already pulling her in for a kiss. She suddenly realized that it felt like it had been forever since they last kissed, and she soon found herself absorbed in the texture and warmth of his lips. She wrapped her arms around his upper back, gripping him firmly, while his hands found their way to her waist. She inadvertently pushed the two of them forward, and soon hot water from the shower head was spilling onto their heads and shoulders like a waterfall, but she didn’t mind. She was too absorbed in the sensation of their slick bodies pressing together—his chest was firm against hers, and his still-hard cock pressed against her lower stomach. 

When they finally parted, Mahiru stumbled backward, smiling uncontrollably. Water ran down her forehead, but Hajime somehow still looked irresistibly attractive even through her squinted, blurry eyes. Suddenly, she had a flash of inspiration.

“H-Hey,” Mahiru mumbled, clasping her hands behind her back and idly rubbing her thumbs together. “Do you think we could try… you know…” She gestured toward Hajime’s lower body, and then her own.

“W-Wait, you don’t mean…?” Hajime said, raising a hand. “I-I mean, doesn't that seem like a bad idea?”

Mahiru creased her brow. “What is that supposed to mean?” 

“I mean, we don’t have any protection, do we?” Hajime commented.

Mahiru exhaled deeply. She placed a hand on her hip and tapped a finger against her temple, gazing off to the side. “...I guess that’s true.” For several seconds she stared into space, her mind racing. The logical part of her mind, which usually ruled her actions, was fervently lecturing her against it; the emotional side of her, however, and her physical body were screaming at her to get on with it already. A feverish hum burned in her lower body, and she felt fuzzy just thinking about having him inside her. She wanted him to wrap himself around her; she wanted to feel every heave of his chest, twitch of his muscles, and pulse of his cock buried deep inside her. Even more, she wanted to stare into his eyes as he thrusted into her; she wanted to feel his lips gliding across hers as he groped every centimeter of her body.

A tap on her shoulder brought Mahiru back to reality. She jumped slightly. “Eh?”

“Hey, are you okay?” Hajime asked. “You… spaced out really hard just now.”

“H-Hey,” she objected. “I wasn’t spacing out. I was just… thinking, okay?”

“About what?” he asked.

Mahiru cleared her throat, and then spoke in a low, almost inaudible whisper. “You know… just um… the fact that I really want you to…”

“I-I can barely hear you!” Hajime interjected.

Mahiru took a deep breath, shutting her eyes. “I want you to fuck me , okay?” she cried out, burying her face in her palms. “Jeez, I can’t believe you made me say that…”

Hajime’s brow raised, and he gently placed a hand on her shoulder. “A-Are you sure?”

She nodded almost violently, but she could no longer speak, as though her embarrassment was a glue pinning her lips together.

“Okay,” Hajime said, his face turning red. “...Uh, maybe I should try putting a finger inside first? That might help ease you into it.”

Mahiru nodded. Her thoughts were fuzzy, and she was pretty much ready to go with whatever Hajime suggested at this point. She placed her back against the wall, away from the spray of the shower head, though the water continued to splash onto her calves. Hajime stepped forward and kissed her, placing one hand on her cheek—his other hand drifted down from her shoulder to gently squeeze her chest. Then, his fingers trailed lower across her stomach, toward her pelvis. Mahiru squirmed, a droning anticipation coursed upward from her lower body—one that wrapped around her spine, crawled upward into her brain, and sent tendrils across her arms.

Glancing sheepishly at Mahiru for affirmation, Hajime waited for her to nod before he moved his thumb down to her clit. For several minutes, he stroked her, all the while kissing her passionately and sweeping his other hand across her body; Mahiru, meanwhile, wrapped her arms around his upper back, clutching him tightly as though to steady herself. She could feel her legs grow weak, and for a brief moment she worried that he was determined to make her orgasm again before he even inserted a single finger into her.

Finally, however, Hajime’s strokes slowed—although they did not cease entirely—and she felt the pad of a finger at her entrance. She and Hajime made sudden eye contact, and for several seconds they simply stared at one another, as though they were long-lost acquaintances gazing at each other through a bustling crowd. 

“Wh-What are you waiting for?” Mahiru asked, breathily. “Just… do it already, okay?” She was trying to hold onto her dignity, but she couldn’t purge the pleading undertone from her voice. Still, she no longer felt the same sense of overwhelming responsibility around Hajime that she felt when she was with others; it was as though she knew she could trust him to be there for her in moments of fragility. 

Hajime nodded, and a second later Mahiru felt his finger slide inside her. At first, it was slightly uncomfortable, but as he pressed it further inside her she became used to the sensation. Once the finger was comfortably inside her, he began to rub it upward in tandem with the stroke of his thumb on her clit. Mahiru gasped sharply. She had been skeptical that anything could feel better than the pleasure she had experienced earlier, but the combination of his movements on the inside and outside of her body was electrifying. Her lips parted as she breathed raspily, her eyes locked with Hajime’s. No words were exchanged, but she could nonetheless feel a deep, poignant affection emanating from his eyes and hands.

“Y-You don’t have to be so… gentle, you know,” Mahiru murmured.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

Mahiru’s breath hitched in response to a particularly vigorous sweep of his fingers, and it took a moment for her to collect herself. “I-I mean… I guess you can put another finger inside me… if you want.”

Hajime hesitated initially, but she soon felt the tip of another finger at her entrance. Before she could react, the finger plunged inside her, and Hajime leaned forward to kiss her, his other hand eagerly massaging her chest. She squirmed as the back of her head pressed into the wall, surprised—but not disappointed—by his sudden show of eagerness. His tongue quickly found its way against hers, and she gripped his back even tighter.

Even after they parted lips, their faces remained close. His forehead, slick with wet hair, pressed against hers. They were both breathing rapidly, and she could feel the warmth of his breath across her cheek; it almost seemed as though if she leaned even slightly forward, she would be able to feel the fluttering of his eyelashes as he blinked. Indeed, for a brief moment, her entire view was consumed by the sight of his olive eyes; the rest of the world seemed to fade away, as though she was being carried on waves of pleasure into the depths of his irises.

“Uh… my hand’s getting kind of cramped,” he mumbled.

Mahiru giggled, but she then furrowed her brow. “J-Jeez, just fuck me already, then.” As soon as his fingers left her, she felt an aching, burning emptiness in her lower body. 

“You are sure about that, right…?”

Mahiru sighed. The throbbing, pulsating sensation in her lower body was clawing at her; she had half a mind to simply grab Hajime by the shoulders and plant herself on his dick. “You know,” she whispered between ragged breaths, “I-I actually thought you were kind of smart before all this. Or does talking to women just shut your brain off?”

“Ouch,” he murmured. “H-Hey, I just want to make sure you’re—”

Mahiru glared at him. If she was in a clearer state of mind she might’ve even felt ashamed about how desperate she was acting, but the physical sensations eddying inside of her felt like they were going to boil over at any second. 

Hajime nodded. “O-Okay, I get the memo…” With that, he gripped the base of his cock. He leaned forward slightly and angled it upward toward Mahiru’s entrance. Even the sight of it so close to her made her twitch with anticipation—she recalled how it had felt in her mouth, and she could only imagine how it would feel inside her. She stared at Hajime and nodded slowly but vigorously. Surprisingly, she didn’t feel nervous about it—or, if she was, it was buried almost entirely by her arousal. There was only an overwhelming desire blossoming inside her, one that strangled her thoughts and set her emotions ablaze. As she felt the head of Hajime’s cock subtly brush her folds, a sharp tingle shot from the base of her spine to her neck. Then, one hand on her shoulder, another on the wall beside her, Hajime pressed forward.

Mahiru inhaled sharply as the head popped inside her, followed by the end of the shaft. Initially, there was a slightly uncomfortable stretching sensation, but it soon gave way to an invigorating feeling of fullness as he slid inside her. Hajime grunted, and for a moment the two simply stared at one another. His eyes lit up, and Mahiru was sure hers looked the same. As the overwhelming warmth and pressure filled her, she found herself struggling to conjure even a single coherent thought. All she could think about was the fact that he was actually inside her . He wasn’t simply touching her body, or even slipping a finger into her. It was an unworldly sense of intimacy she had never felt before in her entire life, and it made it feel like she was floating. 

As they stared at one another, he pushed slightly further into her, and she shivered slightly. Then, he leaned forward and kissed her, bringing her tongue toward her. For what felt like ages, he simply remained inside her, kissing her passionately.

Then, Hajime began to slowly rock back and forth. As soon as he did, he gasped, and parted his lips from hers. “H-Holy shit,” he said. “Mahiru… you feel so good.”

She nodded, gulping. It took her a few seconds to even consider responding. “...I… like the way you feel inside me, too.” 

Mahiru closed her eyes, breathing in deeply the steam of the shower. The wet friction of his cock against her insides was mesmerizing. Her heart pounded in her chest, and the thumping of blood in her ears drowned out all other sounds except for Hajime’s grunts and moans. His hand slid across her body; he fondled her breasts, and, as his fingers passed over her stomach, he pressed down firmly in tandem with the movements of his cock. Her breath hitched. It felt like her entire body was being stretched taut, but in a good way. Each thrust seemed to shoot a wave of goosebumps across her arms, which were wrapped firmly around Hajime’s neck and shoulders. 

Suddenly, she heard a squeak as Hajime’s hand on the wall slid down. Then, he grabbed her thigh, lifting her leg up until her knee was hoisted over his elbow. Mahiru was confused at first, but as his thrusting continued she realized that the angle allowed him to penetrate even deeper inside her, and she moaned softly as he filled her with even greater intensity. With only one foot on the ground, she felt even more vulnerable than before, but she actually liked the feeling. It was Hajime, after all. 

Soon, she found herself slipping into a hazy pool of pleasure. Mahiru had felt moments of happiness on this island, of course, but nothing like this. There had never been a moment where she felt so safe, so secure, so loved. Her back pressed into the wall, while Hajime’s chest was firm against hers, her leg comfortably in his grasp as he slid in and out of her. There was no worry or stress, only an ephemeral bliss. Years seemed to pass, although it was probably only minutes.

Then, just as Mahiru was feeling that she had reached the climax of her emotional bliss, she felt Hajime’s hand slide down her body until it was gripping the underneath of her other thigh. Her eyes shot open, and she gasped as he lifted her into the air, his cock still inside her. He grunted, and his arms flexed as they hoisted her thighs upward, sliding back toward her ass. She tightened her grip on his shoulders. Then, he began to thrust into her again, pinning her back against the wall. Each movement of his hips seemed to push her back further and further into the tiles, sending a shudder through her body, but she didn’t mind. For several long moments, they made an intense eye contact—no words were exchanged, but she nonetheless felt an overwhelming affection cascading from him as he penetrated her, more than any mere compliment or profession of love could convey. Eventually, her eyelids fluttered close, and she savored the feeling of being totally in his grasp. Hajime’s thrusting accelerated, and his hands grasped at her ass with almost animalistic ferocity. Mahiru couldn’t help but be surprised by his intensity—it seemed antithetical to his normally low key personality—but it was incredibly hot. The feeling of being desired so feverishly was intoxicating, and in combination with the physical pleasures pressing into her, she felt her body almost explode with passion.

After a few minutes, Hajime finally let her legs slide to the floor. After catching his breath, he slowly slid his cock out from her, taking a small step back. He gasped, gazing down with hands on his hips.

“Sorry,” he panted. “...Th-That position is really exhausting, you know.”

Mahiru giggled, though her body was already aching with emptiness. “Still, I-I have to give it to you… that was really hot.” She felt strangely vulnerable without his body pressed against hers, though the weakness of her legs prevented her from stepping forward. Her eyes drifted down toward his erection, which was slick with what must’ve been her own juices. It was hard to imagine that that thing had just been inside her, but she already wanted more of it. 

“D-Did everything feel okay?” he asked.

She laughed. “Jeez, you really are oblivious sometimes… I-It was more than okay.” She sighed, crossing her arms. “I-In fact, you should get back to fucking me already.”

Hajime nodded. “Uh… how about you turn around? That might make it easier, I think.”

Mahiru smiled, and quickly wheeled around. It felt strange not to be facing him, but she nonetheless tingled with anticipation. She soon felt Hajime’s arms wrap around her torso; he grasped her breasts with his hands, almost kneading them together. Then, she felt his cock brush against her ass. Mahiru took a deep breath as he steered the shaft toward her entrance. Then, Hajime pushed into her.

Mahiru gasped, placing her hands on the wall to steady herself. As she glanced over her shoulder, she saw Hajime’s face contorted in intense concentration and exertion. He grunted as he slid further into her. Mahiru continued to stare at him from the corner of her eye, mesmerized by the subtle twitching of his cheeks and brow, and the trembling of his lips with each vocalization. As he began to slide in and out of her, he groaned. 

“I-I don’t understand how it’s possible for something to feel this amazing,” he mumbled.

Mahiru felt a flash of embarrassment, and she turned to face the wall. “Y-Yeah… I guess… we can do this again, if you want. H-Hey, maybe our life on this island won’t—”

A particularly vigorous stroke derailed her train of thought. She moaned loudly, though she quickly reached a hand up to cover her mouth.

“You don’t need to cover your mouth,” Hajime said laboriously. “It’s… hot hearing you like that.”

Mahiru felt her face burn, but at that moment another thrust short-circuited her brain, and a low moan escaped her lips. “I-I guess,” she responded.

For several minutes, Hajime continued to thrust into her from behind. At first, she was reluctant to make any sounds. It was then, however, that he slid his hand down across her stomach and toward her pelvis; his other hand still clutching her chest, he began to gently rub her clit in circles with his index finger. She glanced downward, her forehead and palms pressed against the wall, staring as he meticulously pleasured her. With every thrust into her, his hand jumped, and pleasure coursed through her. She couldn’t help but be fascinated by the subtle flexing of his hand on her pelvis, and the curling of his fingers on her breast—he gently twirled her nipple with the end of his fingers.

Before she realized it, a low continuous moan—almost a whimper—was slipping from her, even through pursed lips. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Her lower body throbbed with ecstatic tension, and she soon found a certain satisfaction in moaning—besides, at this point she probably couldn’t have stopped it if she tried. Soon, her rasping grew louder, until her gasps matched the volume of Hajime’s grunts and groans. Their voices intermixed into a strange song, humming beneath the hiss of the shower head; the slapping of their bodies together was like a percussive instrument. At first, Hajime had been standing strictly upright, but Mahiru soon felt his chest pressing against her upper back, and she could feel his warm, ragged breath on her neck as he clutched at her frame. The feeling sent a shiver down her back. 

The heavy pleasure that splashed upon Mahiru every time his warm, hard cock slid inside her and pressed against her insides with its girth was accentuated by the acute stimulation on her clit. She could feel a hot, tight tension building in her lower body, far greater in magnitude than what she had felt when Hajime was fingering her earlier. She felt a little lightheaded, and her body felt limp, her figure held upright only by the wall in front of her and Hajime’s solid grasp. Her mouth hung open, a steady steam of gasps spiraling out of her—a small line of drool coalesced in the corner of her mouth. The tension grew tighter, as though a volcano on the verge of eruption was resting inside her. 

Then, it was as though the world stopped. Her body tensed up, her insides tightening until she felt unbelievably full with Hajime’s cock, a sweltering heat circling around her entire body. Her legs shuddered violently as ecstasy struck her from every angle; her heart leapt in her chest, and she could feel her insides throb with each beat. Her fingers shivered, and her grip on the wall slipped. She didn’t realize it until a few seconds had passed, but a loud, raspy gasp was spilling from her. For several seconds, she simply hung there, her whole body buzzing. 

Suddenly, Mahiru felt Hajime’s cock slip from her.

“H-Holy shit,” he stammered. “You tightened around me so much… I-I totally thought I was going to cum inside you right then and there.”

Mahiru took several deep breaths before she could respond. “...H-Hey, maybe… that wouldn’t be so bad.” She gulped, lifting her head and wheeling around. Her legs felt inexplicably weak, and she desperately gripped onto the wall for support, although it was too slick to hold onto—instead, Hajime reached out and gripped her waist, holding her in place. “No… it’s still a bad idea,” she conceded. She sighed, closing her eyes. 

“So… what do you want me to do?” he asked.

Mahiru sighed. “I wish there was a way we could remember this moment forever…” 

“Yeah, if only,” Hajime murmured. 

Suddenly, an idea sprung in Mahiru’s mind. At first, it was simply a ridiculous fantasy, but she suddenly realized that there was nothing stopping it. “H-Hey, Hajime,” she asked, crossing her arms. “You won’t think I’m weird if I… ask you to do something, right?”

“Depends,” he said. “What… is it?” 

“J-Jeez,” Mahiru hissed, opening her eyes and glaring up at him. “You’re supposed to just say yes.”

The corner of Hajime’s mouth curled upward in an awkward half-smile. “Okay… Sorry. What is it, Mahiru?”

“Uh…” She cleared her throat, debating whether it was really worth sacrificing her dignity. “I-I guess, I was wondering if you could… I dunno, grab a towel and get my camera?”

Hajime blinked. “Your camera? Wh-What do you need that for? I mean, won’t it be ruined if it gets wet?”

“We’ll obviously turn off the water,” Mahiru interjected. “J-Just do it, okay? Ugh.”

Hajime finally nodded, and, after a moment of hesitation, turned around and stepped out of the tub. He grabbed a towel from atop the dryer and wrapped it around himself. Mahiru, meanwhile, took a seat. Without his body in the way, the water from the shower head splashed upon her with its full intensity. She soaked in the heat, savoring the feeling of the hot water running down her face, shoulders, and back. She felt a little dizzy, and her legs felt limp. A slight tingle still buzzed on her skin. 

After what felt like forever, Mahiru finally mustered up the will to reach over and turn off the water. A few moments later, she opened her eyes just in time to see Hajime stepping into the shower room again, her camera in his hands. 

“Don’t drop it,” Mahiru insisted, although her voice was weak and breathy. “A-And, get rid of the towel, obviously.”

Hajime took the towel off and let it fall to the ground. He stepped to the edge of the tub. His cock was still hard, and her eyes darted toward it. From the way he had been groaning when he was inside her, Mahiru knew he was about to burst—she idly wondered how big of a load would come out of him. 

“Get inside,” Mahiru said, gesturing impatiently. 

“I-I don’t really understand,” he said. “What do you need your camera for?” He leaned forward, but she batted him away.

“It’s not for me,” she clarified. “I want you to… take a picture.”

Hajime’s brow raised. “R-Right now?”

“No,” she hissed. “I… want you to cum on me first.” 

He gasped. “W-Wait, are you serious? You mean, like your face?” 

“Shut up,” Mahiru interjected. “I-It’s not a big deal. I just want… a record of this, you know? You know, a record.” She sighed. “It’s like when I asked you to take that picture of me the other day, okay?”

“Th-This is a lot different!” he protested.

“Come on,” she pleaded. “I-I know you want to.”

Hajime took a deep breath, glancing around before he finally stepped into the tub. Mahiru crawled forward until she was directly in front of him. She stared upward at Hajime, who was holding her camera above her—he looked bewildered, but his eyes were lustful. Mahiru, still staring upward, lifted her hand and gripped the base of his cock. Her arms felt weak, but she nonetheless felt a spark inside her as her fingers wrapped around his hard, twitching girth. His shaft was slick with a mixture of saliva and her own juices, and tiny, sloppy bubbles formed as she began to stroke him. 

“Don’t miss the shot,” Mahiru insisted. “...Th-That goes for both of them.” 

“I-I won’t,” Hajime gasped.

Smiling slyly, Mahiru began to move her hand back and forth faster and faster. She could feel his cock throb in her hand. Suddenly, she felt it tense up, and it became even harder than before, until it was like a metal rod in her hand. It pulsated intensely, and she steeled her grip, sliding across his shaft with greater intensity. Instinctively, she slammed her eyes closed. 

Hajime groaned loudly. At that moment, the cock in her hand trembled, and Hajime’s groan turned guttural. A thick, surprisingly warm liquid splashed onto Mahiru’s forehead, dripping across her brow, followed by another splash on her cheek and the bridge of her nose; a moment later, another spurt landed on her lower lip. Then, she heard the loud click of the camera. A few seconds later, Hajime followed it up with several more shots as the viscous liquid dripped across her face. Finally, she opened her eyes, parting her lips. Hajime took one last final shot before finally lowering the camera.

Mahiru reached up and wiped a line of semen from her brow. She stared at the glistening streak on her finger, and without thinking she placed it inside her mouth. It was salty, and thick, but not as unpleasant as she had imagined, and she wondered if next time she would be able to swallow his load—would Hajime find that hot? Finally, she stared up at him giggling softly. 

 “A-Are you sure about this?” Hajime asked, gesturing at the camera in his hands. 

She nodded, feeling surprisingly confident. She was a little proud of the fact that she had asked him to do something so risque, even if it wasn’t that extreme in the grand scheme of things. Moreover, the warmth on her face was the manifestation of the pleasure she had given him during the night, as well as the mark of his affection—in a strange way, it almost seemed like her reward. Even though she had always considered herself somewhat of a prude, Mahiru suddenly found her mind spinning with fantasies and ideas about what they could try next time they met.

“I don’t know if this is the right time,” Hajime said, “but… you look really pretty right now.”

Mahiru slowly climbed to her feet. “Thanks,” she whispered. “Ugh… I’m really tired.”

Hajime nodded. “Y-Yeah, me too. We should probably go to bed. But… um… I think we need to turn the shower back on for a bit.”

“Jeez,” Mahiru said, giggling. “We already showered, and now we have to clean up again. I feel bad for wasting so much water…”

With that, Hajime briefly exited the shower room to return the camera—she made a mental note to go through and sort through the photos later. Then, they turned the water back on and leisurely washed each other. Thankfully, none of the semen had landed in her hair, and she was able to wash it off fairly easily. The atmosphere was intimate, but considerably more relaxed than before; now that her horniness had largely been purged from her body, she felt a softer, fuzzier sense of satisfaction, as well as a deep, pervading exhaustion descending upon her. 

Finally, they turned off the water, stepped out of the tub, and dried themselves off with towels. They slowly dressed themselves, and then stepped into the cottage proper.

Mahiru glanced up at the surveillance camera angled toward the bed. She sighed. “Man, I totally forgot about this whole… predicament while we were in there.”

Hajime nodded. “Me too.”

She smiled as she stepped to the side of the bed. “We should do this again…” She yawned. “Obviously… not after getting a good night’s sleep. Rest is important for your health, you know.”

“Trust me,” he replied. “...I’m about to fall unconscious right here and now.” With that, he climbed onto the bed. 

Mahiru followed suit, crawling over to his side of the bed. She laid on her side, brushing her hand on his chest. “I hope this doesn’t sound too sappy, but… I-I really like you, Hajime.”

“I like you a lot too, Mahiru,” he responded sleepily. “Let’s get out of here together, okay?”

She nodded, nestling her head into his shoulder. With that, she closed her eyes. It wasn’t long before her exhaustion overtook her, and she descended into a deep, peaceful slumber.