I made a mistake. I was working on a Yumi chapter when I read the chapters. I noticed that I edited and posted the wrong chapter. To apologize for my mistake I'll post both Haruno chapters. For the few who were able to read the chapter before I removed it, I had fun at the Miku Expo in Dallas, Texas.
Morning light gently filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the tranquil bedroom. Yukinoshita Haruno stirred beneath the covers, her eyelids fluttering open as she slowly adjusted to the gentle illumination. For a moment, she remained still, listening to the faint hum of the city as it stirred awake outside their apartment. With a quiet sigh, she pushed aside the blankets and sat up, her hair tousled from sleep.
The air felt cool against her skin, carrying remnants of the night's chill that lingered in the room. She glanced over at the empty side of the bed where Hikigaya Hachiman usually slept. His absence wasn't unusual these days, given his early morning university classes. Smiling faintly, Haruno swung her legs off the bed and padded across the room.
As she walked, she picked up a T-shirt that Hikigaya had left on the floor. It was plain, a soft gray that had faded from countless washes, and it carried a faint scent of the laundry detergent they shared. Slipping it over her head, the fabric hung loosely on her frame, providing a comforting embrace that retained the residual warmth of his body. Though too large, with the hem falling to mid-thigh and the sleeves drooping past her elbows, it was perfect for the cool morning.
Crossing the apartment's small living space, Haruno entered the bathroom. She flicked on the light, squinting against the sudden brightness. Leaning over the sink, she turned on the cold tap and splashed her face with water to shake off the remnants of sleep. The cool water proved refreshing, invigorating her and bringing her more fully into wakefulness.
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I scrutinized my reflection, my eyes tracing the familiar features with affectionate scrutiny. I'm a beautiful young woman, my shoulder-length black hair gently cascading down, the tips dyed a playful shade of purple that added a vibrant contrast to my otherwise sophisticated appearance. My angular blue eyes, sharp and perceptive, were softened by the morning's quiet introspection, reflecting a depth often masked by my radiant, tidy, and glamorous exterior.
Today, my accessories were simple yet elegant: small heart earrings that glinted softly under the bathroom light, and a large beaded necklace that lay against my collarbone—a bold touch that complemented my striking beauty. As Hachiman Hikigaya had often thought, I bore a striking resemblance to Yukinoshita Yukino, yet my allure stood distinct, framed by my unique grace and poise. In the bustling roughness of Tokyo, I shone with a clarity that made me easily distinguishable, my elegance and beauty drawing eyes almost effortlessly.
As I gazed at my reflection, a soft flush tinged my cheeks, the memories of the previous night weaving through my thoughts like the delicate threads of a cherished melody. The memory held the sweet, tender awkwardness of a maiden's first love—a feeling so poignant and powerful, yet so fragile in its newness. In those quiet moments reflected in the mirror, I felt a connection to that pure, initial thrill of discovery, the kind that comes when two hearts tentatively reach out, finding warmth and acceptance in each other's presence. It was these mornings, these reflections, that reminded me how deeply entwined my life had become with Hachiman's.
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As I reached for my toothbrush, my gaze inadvertently met my reflection in the mirror. For a moment, I paused, my eyes softening as a fleeting memory surfaced unbidden—a memory delicate and diffuse like the morning mist that clung to the city outside our window.
The reflection showed me wearing Hikigaya's T-shirt, a reminder of more than just the morning's chill. There was a warmth there, an echo of shared laughter and whispered confidences that had stretched late into the night. It was in these quiet, unspoken memories that our connection deepened, far from the complexities of our daytime routines.
As I bent over to prepare my toothbrush, I noticed it. Hikigaya's T-shirt hung loosely on me, revealing a glimpse down the shirt. My bare chest and cleavage exposed, this sight reminded me that Hikigaya had left me a small token of his love—a love mark, or what Westerners call a hickey, on my left breast, close to the nipple.
Though happy, I now had to ensure I didn't wear an outfit that might reveal it until it faded. My smile, barely visible and tinged with private joy, lingered on my lips as I began brushing my teeth. The simple garment carried the weight of shared moments, a tangible connection to the intangible bond that had grown between us. In the mirror, amidst the steam and the mundane morning rituals, I saw not just myself but the faint outline of shared experiences that colored our everyday lives with depth and affection.
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After stepping out of the cold shower, I briskly dried myself with a soft towel, the chill of the water still clinging to my skin, making me shiver slightly. The bathroom mirror had fogged up completely, obscuring my reflection as I wrapped the towel around myself. Pushing open the door, I entered the living area of Hikigaya's apartment, a space we now shared, filled with the mingled remnants of our separate lives coming together.
The apartment was quiet, the only sounds being the faint hum of morning traffic from the street below and the soft rustle of the towel as I moved. With a casual toss, I flung the damp towel onto Hikigaya's bed, the fabric unfolding in the air before settling in a crumpled heap. Now in the privacy of our shared space, I felt comfortable and at ease, not bothering to cover myself as I walked over to the wardrobe to find something to wear.
Opening the wardrobe, I browsed through the neatly arranged clothes, my fingers brushing past various fabrics, considering my options for the day. I paused as my eyes landed on a particularly chic ensemble that seemed perfect for the brisk day ahead. I pulled out a luxurious charcoal grey cashmere turtleneck, its softness promising warmth and comfort. Next, I chose a pair of high-waisted plaid trousers that featured subtle hints of purple—a playful nod to the tips of my dyed hair.
Slipping into the trousers, I appreciated how they complimented my form, giving me a refined silhouette. The turtleneck followed, enveloping me in its cozy embrace. I admired the ensemble in the full-length mirror on the back of the door. These touches of personal style made the outfit truly mine.
I walked around barefoot, feeling the cool floor beneath my feet. This connection to my surroundings was grounding, a moment of peace before the rush of the day began. I felt ready to face the day, confident and stylish, as I gave myself one last approving glance in the mirror before stepping out into the living area to start my morning routine.
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I was about to slip into my shoes, a final touch before stepping out, when my gaze drifted to the small table where Hikigaya and I shared our meals. A simple piece of furniture, it now seemed to hold a weight of memories, particularly from yesterday's lunch. As I looked at the empty chairs, a subtle ache stirred within me—a first brush with jealousy, unfamiliar and sharp.
Yesterday, I had unwittingly observed Hikigaya in the park with a woman whose ethereal charm was nearly indefinable. From my hidden vantage point behind a tree, I watched as the stranger, draped in a sleek black Modakawa dress, engaged Hikigaya with an effortless grace that seemed to captivate all of his attention. The woman's long, dark hair and delicate features were illuminated by the sunlight, creating a halo effect that only added to her almost surreal allure.
The dress the woman wore hugged her figure with precision, its elegance starkly contrasting with my own more casual attire at the time. The details of the outfit—the hip vent, the subtle glimpses of skin, the sparkling gold chains, and the intricate criss-cross back straps—each played a part in crafting an image of refined beauty that lingered hauntingly in my mind.
The encounter left me with a profound sense of envy, not just for the woman's physical beauty, but for the poise and confidence with which she held Hikigaya's attention. It was a pivotal moment that sparked a blend of jealousy and aspiration in me, driving me to face my own challenges with renewed determination and resolve.
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Now, as I looked back at the table, the emotions from yesterday mingled with the morning light, casting shadows of doubt but also forging a path for personal growth. With a deep breath, I turned away, ready to step into my day, my resolve as firm as the ground beneath my bare feet.
My thoughts were still adrift with the unsettling images from the park as I placed the last dish on the table. The quiet hum of the apartment was punctuated only by the clink of ceramic as I arranged the meal meticulously. It was a simple lunch, yet every detail was placed with a precision that mirrored my attempt to control the chaos of emotions within me.
The door clicked open, and Hikigaya entered, his presence filling the compact dining space. He offered a small smile—a customary gesture, perhaps unthinking, but today it seemed laden with undisclosed thoughts. He took his seat across from me, and we began to eat in silence. The usual comfort of such quiet moments now hung heavy with unspoken words and my unvoiced suspicions.
As the meal concluded, my hands moved automatically, lifting plates and cutlery, my movements a dance of routine that I performed flawlessly until my hand paused over Hikigaya's plate. As I picked up his dishware, my gaze inadvertently fell upon his neck, where a faint smudge of red caught my attention.
The sight sent a jolt of unease through me, my heart pounding with a sudden surge of emotion. The red lipstick was unmistakable, a vivid contrast against Hikigaya's pale skin. Jealousy flared within me, hot and fierce, as I struggled to contain my rising anger.
The woman Hikigaya had been talking to in the park hadn't worn lipstick, much less red lipstick. This realization only fueled my growing suspicion and resentment. With each passing moment, my resolve to uncover the truth hardened, and my demand for answers grew more urgent.
Turning back to Hikigaya, my voice was tight with restrained emotion as I demanded, "Who was it, Hikigaya Hachiman?" My eyes bore into his, a silent challenge for him to reveal the source of the crimson stain that marred his neck.
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Yesterday, my breath caught as Hikigaya's explanation unfolded, each word sinking heavily into my heart. The revelation left me in a mix of horror and disbelief, struggling to reconcile the image of the woman from the park with this new, unsettling reality.
Hikigaya's dismissive gesture only added to my unease, his nonchalant attitude towards the woman's behavior sending a chill down my spine. "Stalker!" I thought. How could he be so cavalier about someone leaving such blatant marks on his skin, especially from another woman?
Yet, even as my anger simmered beneath the surface, a part of me couldn't ignore the tender warmth of our reconciliation. The gentle brush of his lips against mine as we made amends was a fleeting moment of solace amidst the storm of emotions, a reminder of the bond we shared despite the tumultuous events unfolding around us. The intensity of last night was undeniable; he had not just consumed me with passion but had left a physical reminder. The aftermath left me exhausted, lying on his bed, my legs twitching from the overwhelming pleasure.
As the memory faded, I was left grappling with a newfound sense of uncertainty. The echoes of our exchange lingered in the air like a haunting refrain. I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this story than Hikigaya was letting on, a nagging suspicion that threatened to unravel the fragile peace we had just restored. But for now, I pushed those thoughts aside, choosing to focus on the present and the delicate balance of our relationship.
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My cheeks flushed as the memory of our intimate moments together from yesterday flooded my mind, a warm wave of affection and desire washing over me. Quickly, I shook my head, attempting to dispel the distracting thoughts. There was work to be done—shopping for lunch and dinner, and perhaps, amidst the bustling aisles of the market, finding inspiration for a date to make up for our ruined outing at the ramen exhibit.
With determined steps, I made my way out of the apartment. The cool air outside offered a welcome distraction from the heat of my thoughts. The busy streets of Tokyo enveloped me, the thrum of life providing a backdrop to my errands. As I perused the market aisles, my mind wandered, flitting between recipe ideas and potential date spots.
Ramen had been my plan—a simple, yet meaningful outing that now felt tainted by the events of yesterday. But perhaps, I mused, we could salvage the day with something new, something unexpected. Ideas danced through my mind: a cozy dinner at home, a stroll through the city's illuminated streets, or maybe even a spontaneous adventure to a nearby town.
Lost in thought, I selected ingredients for our meals, my fingers lingering overripe vegetables and fragrant spices. With each item added to my basket, I felt a sense of purpose and a determination to make our time together special despite the obstacles we faced.
As I made my way to the checkout counter, my mind was already spinning with possibilities, a renewed sense of excitement stirring within me. Whatever the future held, I was determined to seize the moment and create memories that would overshadow the events of yesterday, replacing them with moments of joy and connection shared with Hikigaya.
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My steps echoed softly against the cobblestone path as I made my way through the bustling marketplace, my sleek black leather ankle boots guiding me with purpose. The vibrant stalls overflowed with colorful produce and aromatic spices, creating a sensory tapestry that enveloped me with every breath.
It was at the corner bulletin board that my gaze landed on it—a small flyer announcing a class for making homemade ice cream. The corners of my lips curled into a delighted smile as I read the details. "The perfect date," I thought, "a chance to indulge in a sweet treat while sharing an experience that would surely leave lasting memories."
The idea sparked excitement within me, igniting a newfound sense of anticipation for our time together. With a determined stride, I tore the flyer from the board, tucking it safely into my bag alongside my groceries. As I continued my journey through the marketplace, my mind buzzed with plans, imagining the joy on Hikigaya's face when I revealed our surprise date.
With each step, I felt a renewed sense of purpose, my heart light with the promise of a shared adventure.
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As I returned from the marketplace, the aroma of fresh ingredients filled the apartment, mingling with the warm scent of home. Hikigaya was already engrossed in his studies, textbooks scattered across the table as he diligently worked through his assignments. Occasionally, his phone buzzed with messages from classmates, updates on their group projects punctuating the quiet atmosphere.
I set down my bag of groceries with a soft thud, catching Hikigaya's attention. He looked up from his books, offering me a brief smile before returning his focus to his work. With a sense of purpose, I began to unpack the ingredients, the rhythmic clatter of utensils against the countertop filling the air as I prepared lunch and dinner.
As I moved around the kitchen, my mind drifted, thoughts flitting between the tasks at hand and the upcoming date I had planned. The ice cream class held the promise of a delightful adventure—a chance for us to step away from our daily routines and share a moment of joy.
As the afternoon sun cast long shadows across the kitchen, I finished preparing our meals, the savory aroma of simmering dishes filling the apartment with warmth and comfort. With a satisfied smile, I set the table, a simple yet inviting spread awaiting our shared meal.
Hikigaya set aside his books, grateful for the reprieve from his studies. He joined me at the table, our conversation flowing effortlessly as we enjoyed the fruits of my labor. Between bites, we exchanged stories and laughter, the tension of the day melting away in the company of each other's presence.
As the day drew to a close, we cleared the table together, the camaraderie of our shared tasks a testament to the strength of our bond. In the quiet moments that followed, we found solace in each other's company, grateful for the simple joys of home and the promise of tomorrow's adventures.
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As the evening settled into a gentle rhythm, we found ourselves nestled in the soft embrace of our shared bed, the warmth of our intimacy still lingering between us like a whispered promise. We lay together in the quiet darkness, the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the window casting shadows across the room.
I turned to Hikigaya, my eyes alight with gentle curiosity. "Hachiman," I began, my voice soft and melodic in the hushed stillness of the night, "I was thinking..."
Hikigaya turned to me, his gaze meeting mine with a warmth that mirrored the tender affection in my heart. "What is it, Haruno?" he asked, his voice a gentle murmur that seemed to wrap around me like a comforting embrace.
"I was wondering if you'd like to go on a date with me," I asked, my words tinged with hopeful anticipation.
Hikigaya's lips curled into a soft smile, his eyes dancing with quiet joy. "Sure," he replied simply, his voice filled with warmth and sincerity. "I'd love to."
A sense of contentment washed over me, a sweet relief that filled the space between us with a sense of possibility and promise. At that moment, as we lay entwined in each other's arms, our hearts beating in sync with the gentle rhythm of the night, we found solace in the simple joy of being together, our whispered confessions a testament to the depth of our connection.
And as we drifted off to sleep, wrapped in the comforting embrace of each other's presence, a sense of peace settled over us.