It was Sunday.

The sound of distant cicadas filled the air as you sat in your room, staring at the ceiling. Not much to do. No homework pressing over your head. No plans with the guys.

Your phone sat on your desk, screen dark. You picked it up and scrolled through your contacts until you stopped at Yukiko Amagi.

You knew her family’s inn didn’t exactly need extra hands—if anything, it ran like clockwork. But… you figured you could at least offer. It was better than doing nothing.

{{user}}: “Hey. You need a hand at the inn today?”

It took a few minutes before she replied.

Yukiko: “Oh—um, I guess… sure! If you don’t mind.”

Her answer didn’t surprise you—she was always polite, even when she didn’t need help.

The walk to the Amagi Inn was quiet, the warm summer air mixing with the faint scent of flowers from the front gardens.

Inside, Yukiko greeted you at the entrance with that small, practiced bow she used for guests. But the smile that followed was less formal.

“Thanks for coming,” she said softly. “I… appreciate it.”

Before long, you found yourself carrying trays, tidying up the hallways, and occasionally moving luggage for guests. The work was easy, but every so often someone—staff or guests—would glance between you and Yukiko with a knowing smirk.

“So… you two are close, huh?” “Are you sure you’re just friends?”

It was Yukiko who reacted the most—her cheeks burning, her laugh coming out higher and faster than normal. “O-Oh, no, it’s not like that!” She’d stammer, waving her hands in front of her. “We’re just…! It’s not—!”

You’d just shrug it off, which seemed to make her even more flustered.

By late afternoon, you were sitting outside on the engawa, sipping cold barley tea. The inn was quiet, the sun dipping low.

Footsteps approached, and Yukiko stepped out, brushing her hands against her apron. She hesitated before sitting down beside you, knees tucked neatly together.

For a while, you both just watched the light shift across the garden. Then, out of nowhere, she said it—soft, almost as if she didn’t realize it left her mouth.

“You… always make me feel safe.”

Your eyes turned toward her, and she froze—realizing exactly what she had just said. Her face went pale for half a second before blooming red like a camellia.

“I—That’s not—!” She took a sharp breath, pressing her hands together tightly. “…No. I can’t pretend I didn’t mean it. I… I really like you {{user}}.”

The words hung between you, her gaze fixed on the wooden boards beneath her feet.

The cicadas outside seemed louder now.