After the meal, Kirisu Mafuyu moved with an air of dignity—but also clear urgency—as she stacked the empty plates and brought them to the sink.
With practiced awkwardness, she rinsed them quickly, loaded them into the sleek dishwasher beneath the counter, and closed the door with a soft click.
She stared at the digital display as it beeped and began its cycle.
The soft whirring sound of the machine kicking in brought with it a deep sigh of relief.
How convenient…
For someone like her, who was borderline hopeless at household chores, the dishwasher might as well have been a divine gift sent to protect both herself and any dishware within a ten-foot radius.
She shuddered as the memory rose unbidden—the last time she'd tried to wash dishes manually…
It had been a disaster.
One broken bowl, two chipped plates, and a minor cut on her thumb.
She'd meant to help.
She'd truly wanted to contribute.
And yet—
Azuma-kun had gently pulled her away from the sink with a sigh and cleaned up both the dishes and her wounded pride.
Even now, the embarrassment made her want to curl into a ball.
(π﹏π)
"I'm supposed to be the adult," she thought bitterly. "Why does it feel like I'm the one being taken care of…?"
Still, now that the dishwasher was handling it all, there'd be no more broken plates. No more cuts. No more moments of her student quietly patting her shoulder with a soft, resigned smile.
Yes. This was good. This was—
"Kirisu-sensei, let's go to your room."
Clatter.
The glass she had just picked up slipped and nearly fell, her body stiffening from head to toe as if lightning had just struck.
"…E-Eh?"
Her brain, a split second later, caught up with the words.
Go to her room?
Her room?!
"Wait, what—what kind of situation is this?!"
(⁄ ⁄•⁄-⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄
Her thoughts exploded like a supernova.
"G-G-Go to my room!? N-no way… we—we can't—! That… that's too fast!"
Her mind launched itself into orbit.
If he was making that kind of proposal, shouldn't they at least wait until after graduation?! And besides—her room was a mess! Totally unsuitable for anything… intimate! No atmosphere! No candles! No music!
"Kirisu Mafuyu! What are you even imagining?!"
(///Σ///)
She turned sharply, cheeks blazing.
"W-Why… my room?"
She tried to say it with the composure of a teacher. It came out more like a squeaky door.
Maybe he wanted to review something? Do some last-minute homework? There were better places for that—his room, the living room, literally anywhere else.
Yukima Azuma, for his part, raised an eyebrow and tilted his head slightly, as if confused by her flustered tone.
"Because your room's probably a disaster zone again."
He said it so casually that she nearly tripped over her own feet.
"Last time, I helped you clean it, remember? But that was days ago. I'm sure it's reverted to its natural post-apocalyptic state."
His expression clearly said: You know exactly what I mean.
(¬‿¬)
Kirisu Mafuyu shriveled inside like a deflating balloon.
All that stress… all that spiraling…
For this?
"U-Um… Can we not go?" she tried weakly.
"Nope. No running this time."
She sighed in defeat, her soul leaving her body as she trudged toward the stairs, shoulders slumped. With leaden steps, she led him to her room.
"If there's a god, please, just make the room explode before we get there…"
They stopped before the door. Mafuyu slowly reached for the key.
She unlocked it.
But when her hand touched the doorknob, she froze again.
She didn't want to open it.
Not in front of him.
Not when she knew exactly how it looked.
Azuma stepped up beside her—his hand reached out gently and, without warning, covered hers.
Her hand was warm. His… somehow warmer.
"Mm—!"
She made a tiny, startled noise. Whether it was from the hand-holding or the approaching doom behind the door, even she wasn't sure.
Creak.
The door opened.
And to her surprise…
It wasn't that bad.
A little cluttered, yes. A sweater thrown over the chair. A few books stacked on the floor. But nowhere near the disaster it had been last time.
Azuma looked genuinely surprised.
"You've been… trying," he said softly.
Kirisu Mafuyu flushed, uncertain whether to feel proud or ashamed.
Azuma walked in and immediately started tidying up.
He moved with quiet precision—sorting the books, folding the clothes, restoring order to chaos. She stood there, watching him. For once, she didn't resist.
"All the clothes are clean?" he asked.
"Y-Yeah," she mumbled. "I-I've been throwing the dirty ones in the laundry right away…"
He gave her an approving nod, then continued cleaning.
By the time he finished, the room was spotless.
Neat. Peaceful. Comfortable.
"Just like he is…" she thought absently.
"All done," he said, clapping his hands. "Now you can actually relax here."
"…T-Thank you, Azuma-kun," she said softly.
It was hard to say it. Harder than she expected.
Calling him a "delinquent student" in moments like this felt wrong. But calling him "Yukima" felt too distant. And she didn't want distance between them—not anymore.
"It's nothing," he replied with a grin. "By the way, from now on, I'll just call you Mafuyu-sensei, okay?"
"U-Umu… That's fine."
"And if your room ever gets messy again, just call me."
"N-No, I can't! I-It's too much trouble! I'll just hire a service or—"
"You've never hired one, have you? Probably because you don't want strangers going through your stuff."
He said it without judgment. Just quiet understanding.
Kirisu Mafuyu's mouth opened, then closed again.
He was… completely right.
She didn't want anyone seeing the trophies in her display case. The skating medals. The newspaper clippings. The past she had shut away.
She hated being vulnerable.
But this boy—no, this young man—walked straight past her defenses every time.
"But you can't take care of me forever…" she whispered.
So quiet it was barely a sound.
And yet—
"Why not?" Azuma replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Of course, I can."
Kirisu Mafuyu's breath hitched. Her eyes widened.
He'd heard her.
He'd answered her.
Just like that.
Her heart—
Doki. Doki. Doki.
"Don't say stuff like that so easily," she muttered, turning her face away. "After you graduate, you'll have your own life. I'm just… your teacher."
But the sound of approaching footsteps made her freeze.
He was walking toward her.
Too fast.
She backed up instinctively—and suddenly found herself pinned softly against the wall.
One arm beside her head.
A wall of warmth in front of her.
Kabedon.
"Could it be," Azuma said gently, "that Mafuyu-sensei doesn't plan to take responsibility?"
Kirisu Mafuyu's brain short-circuited.
"T-T-Take… what?!"
(~°□°)!!??
Oh no oh no oh no—did I—did I do something when I was drunk?!
Did something… unspeakable happen?!
She remembered bits and pieces. Her arms draped around his shoulders. Her head leaning against his chest. Laughter.
Could there have been… "premium content"?
If so, then—
"I—I'll take responsibility! I'll wait until you graduate and then—then I'll m-marry you if I have to!"
She panicked, blurted it out before she could stop herself.
Then immediately regretted it.
W-What if he didn't mean that kind of responsibility?!
Her mind spiraled out of control.
She was already picturing herself as a proper wife—wearing an apron, making breakfast, supporting Azuma's brilliant future.
Could she measure up? Could she be good enough for someone like him?
While her mind spun in 50 different directions—
Azuma leaned in just slightly, voice lower now.
"Before, when you asked about my past… you said you weren't listening as a teacher. You were listening as Kirisu Mafuyu."
"Even after I graduate, you'll still be Kirisu Mafuyu."
"You might not be Sensei anymore. But maybe… you could be Mafuyu. Or Mafuyu-nee."
"So if I want to spend the rest of my life with you, that wouldn't be strange at all."
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"Could it be that Mafuyu-sensei doesn't intend to keep her promise?"
"Mafuyu-sensei, please take responsibility for me."
He looked up at her with wide, innocent eyes, full of warmth and teasing affection.
Like a puppy asking to be adopted.
Kirisu Mafuyu's brain completely crashed.
"E-E-Eh…?"
She had already picked out names for their future child.
She had already imagined their life together.
She had prepared her heart for a confession—
But nothing had prepared her for this level of casual intimacy.
So this is what he meant by taking responsibility?!
She nearly collapsed on the spot.
"Th-that's not fair…" she whispered, her hands covering her red face. "You're way too good at this…"
"Then don't run away," Azuma said with a gentle smile.
"Let me stay by your side."
And for the first time in a long, long while—Kirisu Mafuyu didn't want to run at all.