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V6 Chapter 145: The Truly Sly One Is You, Isn’t It?
🕑 Added 2025-09-06 12:27:15 +0000 UTCLiterally speaking, they were trapped.
It was obvious that neither Haru nor Nijika had locked the door themselves. Which meant the only culprit could be the little cat who had just left with the cookies. Raana must have casually locked the studio door from the outside.
"Looks like we're stuck for now. This is the second floor… I doubt Raana will notice us up here anytime soon."
After a few tries, Haru exhaled in resignation. He never would have guessed that Raana would lock them in so naturally. Once he got out, he swore he would properly punish that mischievous cat.
Fortunately, Nijika was as gentle and graceful as ever. She only offered a helpless smile. "Well, nothing we can do about it~"
"If all else fails, we'll just wait until Mutsumi or Umiri come back. They'll notice us upstairs for sure. Or maybe Raana will wander back up here."
Being locked in together with Haru didn't feel bad at all, really.
Her cheeks turned faintly pink as she sank into the soft sofa in the corner of the studio. She patted the cushion beside her with a gentle smile.
"Since we can't do anything else, why don't we just chat~?"
Haru drew a sharp breath and slowly sat down beside her. The moment he did, Nijika's body trembled, though she did her best to pretend nothing was out of the ordinary.
She inched closer, slowly enough to catch the faint scent of floral tea on his body. Blushing furiously, she froze there, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her skirt.
She hadn't expected it to go this smoothly.
They had only just begun dating, their relationship fresh and burning. Even though they had already deepened both body and soul after confessing, Nijika was still intoxicated by the sweetness. It wasn't enough. She wanted more.
Today, unable to endure her own loneliness, she had used a flimsy excuse just to see him.
"Raana moved in recently too, didn't she?"
Haru nodded seriously. "Her grandmother entrusted her to me. I have to take responsibility."
"And the number of girls living here keeps growing~"
Her teasing words curved his lips into a smile. He glanced at her, voice quiet but probing. "What about you, Nijika? Don't you want to move in too?"
"Eh?"
Her crimson eyes widened in panic. She waved her pale little hand frantically, stammering with embarrassment. "I-I-I… better not! B-besides, I still have to take care of my sister."
Yet as soon as she said it, a shadow of regret flickered in her eyes. She tilted her head back toward the ceiling, her golden side ponytail swaying like a ray of sunlight.
Her moving in… that was impossible.
"…"
Haru looked at her quietly, then suddenly slipped an arm around her slender waist. Nijika gasped as he lifted her effortlessly into his arms.
Her face flamed with heat. In a blink, she found herself cradled against him.
"H-Haru?! W-what are you doing?"
"I was just thinking how light you are. You can haul heavy suitcases on your own, and pound out powerful drumbeats… yet you're so light I can lift you without even trying."
He pressed his chin lightly against her shoulder. The warmth made Nijika's heartbeat pound even faster. Emboldened, she nestled against him, her face glowing brighter and brighter.
"Suddenly scooping me up like this… Haru, you're so childish. And a little sly."
"Do you hate it?"
Lowering her head, she took a deep breath, then whispered with trembling sincerity. "…I like it. There's nothing I like more than being in your arms."
The truly sly one is you, isn't it?
Haru rolled his eyes inwardly, then couldn't resist cupping her face and stealing a hard kiss. The way her eyes spun afterward made him chuckle, though he kept his laughter in check.
"You know, if your sister Seika moved in too, that would solve it."
"…No way. If she accidentally saw us kissing… she'd be so devastated she'd probably grab a plane to London in a fit of rage."
The absurd image popped into Haru's mind, complete with Seika's furious voice, and he couldn't hold back his laughter any longer.
Ever since the beginning, Seika had never liked him much. To her, Haru was just the guy who stole her little sister away… though in truth, it was the "little sister" who had stolen him. Still, nothing stopped him from using the same tricks.
Decision made. Tomorrow he'd ride his Ghost Rider bike to STARRY, marriage certificate in hand, and ask if he could park it upstairs.
Chasing away the silly thoughts with a cough, Haru added, "Then how about staying over once in a while? Like during the band's training camp."
"That's…"
She nodded in agreement. But then memories of that training camp flooded back, and her body flushed hot all over.
What had she been thinking back then?
At first, it was that idiot Ryo who pushed her onto the stage, making her the first to end the band's hesitation. But after that, she had lost herself completely, her brain melting into mush as she played on instinct.
"Nijika? Nijika?"
Haru called twice, but she didn't respond. Her ears were burning crimson, such an adorable sight that he couldn't help sucking in a sharp breath.
"…"
Sensing the heat behind her, Nijika turned her head suddenly. Their eyes locked. Her slender fingers twisted against each other nervously. She had no idea how to bring up the band.
But she was his girlfriend. She had to take responsibility.
Drawing in a deep breath, she turned her head fully and kissed him hard, then immediately pulled back, her face scarlet as she pursed her lips, pretending nothing had happened.
"D-do you… want to?"
A girl's blush could outshine every poem.
After half a second of thought, Haru closed his eyes.
He had thought Ryo was already the peak of fox-like seduction. He hadn't expected this seemingly harmless angel to be the true heavyweight.
Only a god could resist at this point. And Haru, already betrayed by his "brothers," couldn't hold back. He lifted her chin and leaned in for another kiss—
Click~
The studio door creaked open from the outside.
"…"
Standing there in a black leather jacket was Umiri. She gripped the handle, her face expressionless as her eyes swept over them. The silence in the room grew heavy, even the sound of breathing felt too loud.
Her brows rose slightly before she spoke, slow and dry.
"…Don't let me interrupt."
"W-wait, wait!"
…
Now Nijika sat at the dining table, her face crimson with shame. Even without looking up, she could feel the gazes boring into her. Even Mutsumi, usually expressionless, stared at her, making her head spin with dizziness.
How had it come to this?!
During dinner, everyone sat around the table. The culprit, Raana, cheerfully squinted her eyes as she stuffed herself with food, completely oblivious to the atmosphere.
Umiri and Mutsumi were both experts at keeping their emotions hidden. They wanted to say something to break the tension, but they knew that would only worsen Nijika's fragile embarrassment.
"A-actually, Haru and I… were just talking about the band."
"I see."
Umiri nodded gravely, which only made Nijika want to faint from shame.
Haru, who had been about to step in, froze at her words. He hadn't expected Nijika, flustered as she was, to blurt that out. If she had just stayed silent, everyone would have let it slide. But now it sounded like the most obvious cover-up.
"Really, Nijika did come over to talk about the band. But since she was here… I decided to fulfill my promise and paint her portrait."
That much was true.
Expressionless, Mutsumi asked calmly, "A portrait?"
"Yeah, that's right."
After a pause, Umiri looked up as well. "I see. So it's about the band's future after all?"
"Exactly."
Shoveling rice into her mouth, Raana's eyes sparkled as she joined in.
"Nijika, are you staying over tonight?"
"Yeah, ye—wait, what?!"
The answer slipped from Nijika before she realized it. Her crimson face snapped up as the weight of her words hit her. But before she could explain, both Mutsumi and Umiri exchanged knowing looks.
"I'll go prepare clothes and toiletries," Mutsumi said, rising at once.
"I'll get the bedding ready," Umiri added, casually brushing her hair back. "Though we probably won't need it. I'll bring the essentials instead."
"No, wait, it's not like that!"
Her frantic cry of protest echoed through the living room.
