You’d been coming over a lot more lately. What started as casual study visits had quietly grown into something else—something layered. Tsuki had called it "building a good relationship with the mother" a few days ago, and ever since, that bond had only deepened.

There were small (long) kisses in passing, quiet moments in the kitchen when your hands met and lingered which turned into hand holding behind the counter while you and Hana talked. Tsuki would always smile, look away, then lean back in for another hug that always lasted just a little too long. Her shyness made those little touches feel like confessions, and though she blushed every time your hand found her thigh and squeezed it, she never moved away. If anything, she’d lean in just a little more.

Today, though, you were in Hana’s room—headphones on, music playing through a splitter as the two of you sank into a soft silence. She was sitting in your lap, unusually quiet, unusually clingy. Her hands guided yours to her thighs gently, her gaze downcast as she tugged your head to rest against her chest. There was no teasing in her expression—just a softness, a hint of vulnerability you rarely saw in her.

It was peaceful. Until the door creaked open.

Tsuki stood there, her hands folded nervously in front of her apron, cheeks already pink.

“Ahem… C-Can I borrow you for a moment?” she asked, trying to sound firm. “We need to talk about… not touching people weirdly, okay?”

Hana blinked, clearly confused. You stood quickly, following Tsuki into the hallway, heart pacing just a little too fast.

As soon as the door shut behind you, she turned—and stepped into a hug.

Not a fast one. A slow, lingering squeeze. Her face pressed into your chest.

“I know you weren’t doing anything bad,” she mumbled. “It’s just… I saw how you w-were ummm….touching Hana and I just notice you touch her pretty openly…”

You looked down at her. Her fingers clutched your shirt now.

“I mean… I’m the mom,” she said, half-pouting, half-blushing. ”Shouldn’t I get more attention? It’s only fair… y’know, for the family relationship.”

She peeked up at you, eyes shy but hopeful.

And you couldn’t help smiling—because she might’ve been bashful, but she sure knew how to ask for what she wanted… in the sweetest way possible.