"Relax and breathe."
"In, out. In, out. In, out. One, two. One, two."
Out in the training area, whose features and atmosphere had changed as much as Namek's, the Invincible Couple were undertaking a rigorous training session. Under Saiki's tutelage, Teruhashi's golden glow receded little by little. He never imagined he'd be teaching someone anything, especially in relation to powers; so he felt more than a bit out of his depth. Perched atop a nearby boulder, he pulled one of his legs into his chest with his arm and knit his brow.
She laid her arms flush to her sides, closed her eyes, and balled her fists as if in intense concentration. The fact that she was teasing him didn't help at all. He had told her to relax as much as possible, yet she looked like she was ready to take flight a la Dragon Ball Z.
"You're a great teacher, Saiki-kun. Try to relax a bit, too." While he was at it, he needed to fix her telepathy, too. He sighed and let go of his leg. Her gaze was soft and light, and she giggled when her eyes met his. She flattered him, but he knew better. Still, her aura's baseline had been decreasing steadily over the last few sessions.
"If you have trouble relaxing, I will, too." Ugh. He was getting nowhere himself.
"Let's continue later. I think I'll take my turn now." He drifted down next to her, picked up a nearby rock, and tested it by tossing it from hand to hand; as she watched him patiently.
"You know, graduation is coming soon," she said gently.
His expression tightened to a grimace. "Don't remind me."
"Whatever happens, we'll figure it out. I promise." She approached him and grabbed the back of his palm, stopping him from testing the rock and quieting his mind a bit. He took a deep breath, as she finished lacing her palm around his hand. Touch had become much more common and much less incidental as of late. She still tried to show restraint, though not all of it was conscious.
"I don't understand how you can be so blasé about it," he grumbled.
"Because you can teleport to me whenever you want! …Or are you afraid of being away from me?" She giggled coquettishly and raised her fist to hide her mouth.
His eyes snapped to meet hers; he shot her a dour look before averting his gaze. "The world doesn't revolve around you," he said to the ground.
She eyed him pityingly, clicked her tongue, and shook her head, which caused him to look away from her. Tch. And she had the audacity to call him a brat.
"Is something on your mind?" she asked, peering into his face with her shimmering blue eyes. As much as he didn't want to answer, she wasn't playing fair.
He sighed heavily. "We've known each other for a long time. Unnaturally long."
Her eyes focused, and her expression became determined. She had more than enough experience to have a good idea of what was coming.
"We've known each other for six years, though to you it only felt like one. I stopped a volcanic eruption that was going to destroy Japan, but I failed and had to rewind time five times."
"Oshimai, right?" she responded almost immediately.
Quick on the uptake as ever. He nodded slowly, an uncomfortable feeling tightening in his chest. "Moving on from high school after eight years is weird."
"Personally, I'm excited to move on to the rest of our lives. Think of all the things we can do, the places we can go…" she took his hand and spun under it in an underarm turn which caused him to blow air out of his nose.
"Overly optimistic, as usual."
"Come on, have a little fun! Where's your sense of adventure?" She laughed lightly.
"I just have this bad feeling that I can't understand, and I really don't like it." His expression and his shoulders tensed, and he paused for a beat. "It seems like I'm missing something, but I'm not sure what. It feels like I should have had a precognitive dream."
"Is it Kuusuke's challenge?" He jolted and shook his head quickly. Her thoughts softened and her expression became concerned. "Who wouldn't be concerned by that?"
He averted his gaze. Some part of him believed she was right. Kuusuke's antics were mere annoyances most of the time, but something had changed. He no longer made mad scientist gadgets, instead opting for whoopee cushions and cameras. They felt more like pranks a normal brother would play, not Kuusuke.
"Isn't that just what brothers do? … We missed that stage when we were kids," Kuusuke had said. But whose fault was that? Kuusuke was the one constantly challenging him.
"We did our best to keep you from being a hero on everybody else's terms, but there was no way for us to understand." Now his father's words were coming back—sentimentality was not a good look on him. He felt her jump as his hand tightened. Stupid reaction, now she thought he agreed with her.
"It's ok to be nervous," she said soothingly. He was nervous, but not for the reason she thought.
"I can't read Kuusuke the way I can with other people, but I can sense some sort of guilt… ," she continued.
"Wrong." He himself was almost surprised with how quickly he said that.
"Let me finish," she said firmly, tightening her hold on his hand. He groaned and shifted uncomfortably but did not protest.
"Though it doesn't excuse his behavior, he still tried to understand me," she said. …Did she know what he was thinking? Why was she apologizing for that guy of all people?
"He's always up to something; he probably wants to know your weak points so he can exploit them like he does for me," Saiki said defensively, as if on reaction.
"Maybe, but he didn't act like someone who still believed you were a monster," she said softly.
Saiki clenched his fist as he felt an unpleasant emotion bubble up. Was it anger? Sadness? Guilt? He couldn't be sure. "He ran away to Cambridge. That's about as clear as it gets," he said disdainfully. He heaved a labored sigh, wishing he had changed the topic ages ago.
"What will you do about the pest?" he asked pointedly, turning his gaze on her. Her eyes rapidly shifted, each new train of thought sending her eyes somewhere else. Among the storm, she waffled between guilt for pushing him too far and the thought of confronting the pest.
Her expression turned somber, and she chewed on her lip. "I haven't talked to him in a long time. Thankfully, he's been away a lot more often recently. I don't think I can face him just yet," she said, turning her gaze to the horizon.
He nodded and his gaze wandered as well. He had run away from problems much less severe for longer than she had. She gripped his hand tighter and placed her free hand on top of the two interlocked.
"I know you'll get there soon," he reassured her.
Her expression softened, and she gave his hand a little squeeze. However, a stupid idea germinated in her mind. She put one of her hands behind her back and shifted from side to side in feigned embarrassment.
"Hey, Saiki-kun." It was that tone again.
"Hm?" At this point, he should probably figure out why he kept indulging her.
Her eyes twinkled and expression beamed, but she quickly inflated her cheeks when she caught his amused expression. "Why haven't you initiated any hand holding since the first time?" she said, still attempting to intimidate him with her pouting. She trembled with agitation and sucked in air to reinflate her cheeks.
"Angy. Angy." If the words floating in her head were any indication, she was probably angry.
"Haven't had a reason to," he said, shrugging noncommittally. She definitely didn't like that.
"Angyangyangy!" her face scrunched, causing her eyes to squeeze shut; she quickly pushed her face toward him as she reddened.
"Use your words." He felt something in his chest, a feeling he hadn't felt in a while, a feeling that made him want to reach out and pat…
"How about I kiss you instead?"
He flinched, almost having to take a whole step back. What was he thinking just now?
She let the air out of her cheeks to point and laugh at him, doubled over, and laughed until her breaths went hoarse.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry; your reaction was so priceless!"
I shouldn't have let my guard down, he chastised himself. Rookie mistake. He shot her an ugly scowl and crossed his arms.
She kept her hand over her chest as she gasped for breath on her way down from her exuberant laughter. "I don't understand why you're so concerned about holding hands; you already initiated it on that date when we went into the photo booth," she said breathlessly, nearly aspirating several times.
His eyebrow piqued, and he frowned. "That wasn't a date."
She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Sure, it was as much of a date as when we went for yakiniku."
"I wasn't trying to avoid you at yakiniku."
"So yaikiniku was a date then, hmm?" She giggled mischievously.
"Still no."
"Both of us know that's a lie," she said, shaking her head at him pityingly. "You liked me even back then, didn't you?"
At that point, he had merely tolerated her; but pushing the issue wasn't worth the effort: she'd ignore anything that didn't suit her anyway.
"Onii-san, is it true?"
"Is what true, Kokomi?" Makoto said, looking up from his papers on the kitchen table. His eyes widened at the venomous glare levied at him. His eyes darted side to side; if he was feigning surprise, he was a much better actor than she gave him credit for.
"Are you a siscon?" Her voice was terse; her icy tone chilled the room.
"W-what? No!" he blubbered in disbelief. Lying to her was not a great start.
"Liar!" she yelled, causing him to flinch under her crushing accusation. All of it made sense now: the laundry raiding, the "random" visits to her room, and the insistence on staying in the room while she was changing—he needed to know exactly what he had done to her.
"Kokomi..." he pleaded. Was that fear in his eyes?
"What is wrong with you?! Do you know how unsafe I felt? How hard I had to try while you were home? I should have just stayed away!"
"Kokomi, I'm so sorry. I had no idea you felt that way..." He shrunk into his seat and held his hands up defensively.
"You didn't stop for a single second to think that it might make me uncomfortable that you were undressing me with your eyes every time you were home?"
"...Kokomi, I..."
She stamped her foot and postured aggressively. "No, of course you didn't! Instead, you got me lingerie!"
"Kokomi, I'm so sorry!" Makoto cried, inelegantly kicking the chair out of the way and prostrating himself before her. "It's true, I did think those things for a very long time!" Finally, the truth.
Her position relaxed. She glowered at the back of his head as if she was looking at trash, and her hands trembled. Deep within her, a feeling gnawed at the corners of her anger. It felt like a frustration that she was well acquainted with; but somehow, not at all. Though she was justifiably angry, she had a feeling that the way she was treating him was punishment enough; yet some compulsion led her to wring him out more.
"The thoughts stopped recently, and I have no idea why." His voice, muffled by the floor, trembled fearfully. "Since then, I've been trying to come to terms with it. I feel like a monster. I have no idea when it started or why it stopped; and I don't know if I can ever forgive myself."
At those words, something within her snapped.
"You make me sick."
She glared at him, unblinking. Her mind was silent and her body was still. It was as if a dam had broken, and all emotion had rushed out of the breach. He quaked under her gaze for a few more seconds before taking a deep breath and exhaling into the floor.
"...I understand." His voice became quiet; focused, even. "If I were you, I would be, too. I'll see myself out." When he rose, his eyes were hidden by his brow. He languidly shuffled toward the door but stopped as his hand touched the knob to ask one final question.
"How did you suddenly figure out that I was a siscon?"
She had nothing to hide from him anymore; no need to spare his feelings. "Saiki Kusuo," she said, her voice devoid of any emotion or empathy.
His head whipped around; and his eyes trembled in disbelief, followed closely by the emergence of the facial varicose veins indicative of his rage.
"That shitty four eyes! How did he know…" he said through clenched teeth.
"It doesn't matter. Now run, coward," she said coldly, her tone so empty that it seemed to suck all of the air out of the room.
He hung his head in defeat, opened the door, and limply closed it behind him; the lock settled into place with a soft clack.
Adrenaline coursed through her as she inhaled a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut. What did she just do? She couldn't believe it—she was shaking, physically shaking; she shook so much that the soft whisper of wind in front of her made her jump.
"You really made me work for that," Saiki-kun said breathlessly, if a little mischievously.
"You were watching the whole time?" No. He couldn't have seen all of that—he can't have seen it.
He shrugged. "You weren't exactly subtle. World War III would have started if I hadn't neutralized your aura."
He did see it! Who was the person that looked like her? It wasn't Teruhashi Kokomi, that much was certain.
"He must have been lying, right?" she stammered, clawing at the crumbling remains of her sense of self.
"I think you know the answer to that," he said gravely, wincing and averting his gaze.
Her face trembled and her hands reflexively raised. "You said he was a siscon; but you wouldn't lie to me either, would you?"
He frowned and crossed his arms, contemplating the sequence of events. "I may have made a mistake. I hadn't checked his thoughts in a while."
A pressure unlike any she had experienced forced her mouth shut. "…why, then?" she croaked, finally managing after what felt at least a minute. She felt helpless before the shame she feebly attempted to stave off consumed her. This wasn't how this confrontation was supposed to go. His presence had hung over her like a dark cloud for all of her life—finding her voice should have been cathartic; but somehow it made her feel even lonelier.
"Your aura decreasing loosened its grip on him enough for him to break free of his siscon thoughts." Her ego buckled under his piercing gaze. This was her fault, after all. If she had been better…
"No. He made his decisions, and right now he's deciding to keep those thoughts at bay. He could have done it all those years ago, but he let it consume him."
"Why did you tell me then?"
His serious gaze remained fixed on her, but she could tell he was making a great effort to help her feel at ease by softening his expression. "You had a right to know."
"That doesn't make any sense! You didn't even need to tell me yourself, you could have made him tell me…"
"Teruhashi-san," he said firmly, but gently.
Blaming others was not a good look on her. If she hadn't lost control, none of this would have happened. She needed to work harder…
"Teruhashi-san."
Silence fell heavily on them. No matter how awful Makoto was, she owed it to herself to keep her wits about her. Instead of being exonerated, Teruhashi Kokomi had become a bully. "You must hate me now. How could anyone love this?" she said, hugging herself and shivering.
"Even if I could hate, righteous fury would hardly register among the ceaseless deluge of abhorrent thoughts I hear constantly."
Suddenly, she gained a very visceral lesson on the burden of telepathy. Not acting on others' thoughts was much more than the black and white issue of heroics. She had protected herself from people with truly vile intentions by staying in public, well lit areas thus far; but should those people be punished for having those thoughts? The line between intention and action became far too blurred for her, let alone anyone, to comprehend. This must have been what Aiura was getting at all of those months ago.
I… I need a hug. Rather than a deliberate thought, the words had mistakenly bubbled out of the cold weakness and vulnerability that chilled her like a howling winter wind. Despite her willfulness, he obliged her. She laced her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder, and she felt his hands rest on her lower back.
"…why did he have to run away? Why couldn't he just face me?" she whispered.
"When surprised, people tend to react unpredictably and often in ways they regret later. Different circumstances may have seen that play out differently; but, unluckily for you, 4 of the guys you surround yourself with are runners."
Take a deep breath, Kokomi. He's trying to change the subject. Thank you, Saiki-kun. Unluckily for him, she decided that teasing him would be the way forward.
"The amount of convenient coincidences leads me to believe that it's a guy thing," she said coyly. She let her arms out to scan his face for delicious tsundere annoyance, but kept her hands wrapped around his neck so he couldn't get away.
"How delightfully sexist of you," he said, his expression amused. His face betrayed nothing substantial; telepathy was so unfair.
"All good science is evidence based, Saiki-kun," she drawled slyly.
He let out a deep chuckle. "Touché."
"I'm surprised you're not more offended by that," she said, covering her mischievous giggle with her fist.
"Why would I be? I can always change gender and give you an echo chamber if you prefer."
"Shush," she said, putting her finger on his lips. "Maybe later, though." A cute laugh escaped her.
His eyebrow quirked. "Oh?"
"Since women tend to be more open about their feelings, it could help loosen your lips," she said coyly, pouting her own lips. Maybe I'll get an offu, too?
He rolled his eyes, let go of her waist, and crossed his arms. "Fat chance."
"Boo," she protested, but unlatched her hands from behind his neck, clasped her hands behind her back, and tucked one of her legs behind the other. "I like it when you're supportive like this; it's really cute. You should do it more often."
"I didn't do anything," he said with a shrug before crossing his arms and furrowing his brow.
"The pest did mention something in one of the times I was made to suffer the displeasure of his presence," he said thoughtfully.
Her heart jumped in her chest and her eyes widened.
He continued, seeming not to notice. "He went on and on about how the media and scouting agencies would have swarmed you without his company's intervention, which might have been a nice sentiment if the context wasn't me being forced to deliver a message because he was being a creep. If he had been less reckless, we never would have spent time in that other town."
Her limbs slackened in disgust, both at Makoto and herself. When they were younger, she could remember times when he brushed her hair and congratulated her when he was proud of her. Twisted as he was, he never made a secret of the fact that he cared.
"…What have I done?" she said breathlessly. She jolted and met his gaze when she felt his hand clap onto her shoulder. His brow was relaxed and a tiny smirk formed at the corner of his lips.
"Be human," he said with a small grin; his gaze had softened again. Was Saiki Kusuo proud of her?
She pulled his hand from her shoulder, cupped it in both of hers, and drew circles on the back of his hand. She found herself no longer able to meet his gaze, instead ducking her head shyly.
He blew air out of his nose—apparently, he found her sudden shyness entertaining. "I think it's best that you two stay separated for the time being. You need time to process, and he has an existential crisis to handle," he said calmly.
She squeezed his hand tighter and nodded slowly. Silence fell. She felt an ambivalent tension in her body—one she could not pin as either uncomfortable or relaxed. Every small breath seemed to draw some of it out until she could develop her next strategy.
"Being so emotionally drained after that ordeal, I seem to have come down with a bad case of hunger for attention. I believe the only way to slake it is with an offu," she whined, wrapping one of her hands around her side, placing her arm across her forehead to mimic a cold compress, and averting her gaze to cover a mischievous grin.
"Not going to happen," he said flatly. She did not detect any mirth in his voice, which meant that phase one had gone as planned.
"I've earned at least a 'cute' then, right?" she said, gazing at him with pleading eyes—of course, she made sure to angle and widen them for maximum shimmer and cuteness. Wow, Teru-I mean Kokomi is so cute; all I want to do is call her by her given name and compliment her forever! the Teruhashi-vision Saiki stammered in her head. The real Saiki crossed his arms and shot her an ugly scowl. Phase two, successful.
"Stop being such a meanie," she complained. "You've already rejected me twice, can't your adorable girlfriend have just one teensy little thing?" she said coyly, fluttering her eyelids at him for good measure.
He raised an eyebrow at her and huffed. "What do you want?" he groaned. Phase 3, successful. Strategy, successful.
"I want to tick off one of the other cute couple things on my list: hair brushing!" She bubbled with excitement, closing the distance between them and shining her eyes into his piercing gaze.
He scoffed and rolled his eyes at her. "You could have just asked for the hair brushing first. The theatrics were for you, not me."
She spun around and pushed her lip up with her finger. "Maybe," she murmured. "Now come up to my room and we can get started!" She yipped as she bounced lightly toward her vanity. There was absolutely no way he didn't think that she was cute.
He offered no comment.
"Sit here!" Teruhashi, now clad in two piece white and blue pin-striped pajamas, patted her bed so excitedly that it disturbed the perfectly made comforter. He took station without objection as she handed him the brush and sat down in front of him. Cute or not, it was nice seeing her so happy. She kept peeking over her shoulder nervously, her thoughts completely consumed by love-brained nonsense.
He felt a barely perceptible buzz in his gut; but he pushed it down—he had to focus to avoid hurting her. He reached his hands toward her slowly, but stopped just before he touched her hair.
"I trust you, Saiki-kun. I know you'll do your best," her thoughts echoed in his mind.
He shook his head and gripped the brush tighter. How could he best approach this? Objectively, he was better with telekinesis than his hands. This could work.
He gently pulled her hair up with telekinesis, but her thoughts turned confused rather than elated until she figured out what was going on.
"It's okay to use your hands," she said gently but a little shakily. I'd prefer it that way. Thinking it enabled her to convey what she was too embarrassed to say aloud. She pulled her legs into her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Jeez, she was pretty nervous.
He shook his head. If he was going to brush her hair, he needed to figure out what he was working with. Naturally, her hair was much more sculpted than anyone else's. Sculpted was definitely the wrong word, but even the second most vain person he had met had more than a few hairs out of place. Their hair wasn't frizzy by any means; but a few formerly invisible stands would catch the light if viewed closely. These strands, of course, were completely absent in Teruhashi's hair.
There was something bugging him, though. Her hair might have made sense if the circumstances were different. She must have been frazzled by her fight with the pest or distracted by her attention-seeking behavior to care about it, yet everything remained perfectly in place. This didn't match his observations about her aura lowering. Maybe he should toss that data point into the bin of "Teruhashi shenanigans".
"Do you like what you see? Are you thinking about the artistic qualities of my hair?" She said, giggling and giving him a smug look over her shoulder. "You should come up with something different; 'cute' or 'pretty' would be a good start."
He glared at her. "Do you want me to do this or not?"
"I win again," she said brightly, but made sure to exaggerate her smug sense of superiority.
She was goading him, but his pride would not allow him to be cowed by hair. A psychic could do anything; brushing hair was a paltry task when weighed against his godlike power.
He passed his fingers through her supple locks and gathered up a few of them, causing her to sigh contentedly. How were they so unbelievably soft? He had read that hair was best brushed when wet but had no idea how much smoother it could get than this.
"Psst. Saiki-kun."
Yare yare, what now?
"You're supposed to start at the bottom, not the top," she whispered.
He stared dumbly at his holding hand—indeed, it was remarkably close to the back of her head. Why was his knowledge failing him now?
He grumbled and grabbed closer to the bottom. Brush from bottom to top and move up when the tangles are out, he had read. There was only one problem with these directions: she had no tangles. He drew a deep breath and gently moved the brush a few inches from the bottom of her hair.
She sighed deeply as a giddy school girl giggle bubbled up in her mind. Yare yare, just listening to this felt embarrassing.
Not too fast, not too slow, he reminded himself, carefully working his way up to the roots. Wait, what was that smell? Trying to figure it out had been bugging him for a while now. It definitely wasn't her shampoo or any other applied scent. He stopped brushing and started sniffing to suss out the scent. It hurt his pride to sniff like a hunting dog, but there really weren't any other options at this point.
"Uh, Saiki-kun, d-do I smell?" she stammered as her ears flushed bright scarlet.
"No," he said distantly. He kept sniffing until he finally identified the smell: it was the one that was only around when she was and defied description. "Actually, maybe." He realized his mistake, but he was far too late to correct it.
"I'm so sorry, I'll shower right now!" she yelped. The hair that he had been holding slipped from his fingers as she bolted and frantically rifled through her things.
"Teruhashi-san, stop. I didn't mean…" Just like that, he made it worse.
"No, if that's how you feel then I'll fix it!" she yelled, tearing up as she continued rummaging.
Normally, teasing her like this would have been fun; but right now it definitely wasn't. She finished collecting her things and started stomping toward the bathroom. He needed to do something fast.
Just as her hand touched the knob, he reached out and grabbed her free hand, causing the clothes and towel she was carrying to tumble onto the floor.
She whipped her head back toward him, her expression warring between disbelief, sadness, joy, and anger. He didn't know exactly what face he was making; but for no discernible reason, her expression softened. Telepathy had chosen a very inopportune time to malfunction. She relaxed, wrapped her hand in his, and sidled close to him.
"God, you are so frustrating sometimes," she whispered and ducked her head. "I'm sorry I reacted the way I did, but you still need a lot of practice with social graces."
He had no idea what expression she saw; all he knew was that, for the very first time, he felt compelled to thank god.
"Teruhashi-san, you don't smell bad," he said carefully, causing her to blush and avert her gaze. His heart pounded in his chest—that disaster was far too close for comfort.
"So… Do I smell good?" She kept glancing at him, apparently unable to look at him directly. She had earned a bit of positive affirmation, he supposed.
He simply nodded his head and gave her a thumbs-up. In his defense, it was a bit hard to manage a "yes" after he messed up that badly.
"What did you mean earlier then?" She mustered up the courage to posture confidently and share his gaze.
He sighed deeply and shook his head. "There's just this scent that I can't place. I can only smell it when you're around, and I can definitely tell it apart from your shampoo and other products. I never figured out what it is, and it's been annoying me."
Her eyes shifted as her face reddened like a boiling kettle until fireworks shot out of her head. "Um, I don't know how to tell you this; but I think that's my smell."
"What are you talking about?" he said incredulously. The notion created more questions than answers.
"M-m-multiple things… B-but the important one is that you have a specific scent for me!" she stammered, laughing nervously after she finished.
"What does that mean?" Either her romcoms hadn't mentioned it or he wasn't paying attention, he mused.
"Supposedly when you—" she shifted her shoulders nervously—"really like someone, you develop a sensitivity to their scent…"
He frowned and pondered for a moment, then shrugged. "We are in a relationship; so it makes sense."
"Ehm, yeah. Right," she said timidly and used her free hand to smooth out her pajama bottoms. He still couldn't hear her thoughts, but some part of him now questioned his desire to.
"Do I have a smell then?"
She nodded nervously.
"For how long?"
"I don't know. A while." She stared off into space as she pushed her knees together and wiggled her hips erratically. Did she need to pee or something?
He took his chin in hand and nodded studiously. But what she said made sense; her keen sense of smell definitely helped her cooking. What was her deal, though? She was being unusually curt, maybe even more than him. And why was she still blushing?
She unclasped her hand and pushed her hands down to the seam of her bottoms. "Um, you should probably go now. Something suddenly, uh, came up." "Yep. That's definitely what happened."
Great, telepathy was back, and he was no closer to understanding what was wrong with her. Her heart was pounding against her ribs harder than he'd ever remembered it. Was she sick again?
"You seem out of sorts, do you need me to get anything for you…"
"Nope, I'm completely fine! I promise!" Her voice pitched up several octaves, and she vigorously shook her head. "Pleaseleavepleaseleavepleaseleave."
He stared at her intensely as she shivered and continued to avoid his gaze. "Did I do something wrong?" he asked carefully, so as not to frighten her.
"Nope! It's a, uh, girl thing! We meet whenever we want to talk about periods and stuff; and I have to get ready for it right now; so I need some privacy!" she said, racing through her excuse faster than dialogue in a sped-up YouTube reupload of moments from the Disastrous Life of Saiki K anime (also available in manga, light novel, live action movie, and video game media. Please support the official release).
Women were strange creatures. Well, whatever; her message was loud and clear—he wasn't going to complain about more coffee jelly time.
He honored her request and whisked himself to his bedroom to enjoy a night with his dearly beloved.