[Serina Mikage POV]
Closing the door made the presence of my mom and dad, whom I had left downstairs, fade away.
Outside the window, it was still raining.
It was supposed to be the same rain I had been listening to in Aiba-kun's room, but once I was back in my own room, the sound felt faint and distant. What lingered in my ears instead were his raspy coughs, which he had tried over and over to suppress, and his gentle breathing after he finally fell asleep.
Sitting down at my desk, I turned on my smartphone screen. There wasn't much time left before midnight.
Checking my notifications, I found unread messages in the group chat with Rio and the others. Ever since letting them know there were no issues at the hospital, I had left them without any updates, and it had somehow gotten this late.
Lacking the energy to explain everything in detail, I simply texted them to say I had made it home safely.
"A lot happened, but I got home safe and sound. I'm totally fine, so no need to worry."
The moment I sent it, a read receipt popped up almost immediately.
"What do you mean 'a lot'?! And what do you mean 'totally fine'?!"
The first to reply was Rio, as expected. Right after, she sent a sticker of a wide-eyed cat peering over with a magnifying glass in each hand.
"What's with that sticker...? You don't need two magnifying glasses."
The sticker, looking like Rio's boundless energy brought to life, coaxed a quiet chuckle from me. Immediately after, a reply arrived from Kotoha.
"Glad to hear you made it home safely. You can tell us everything tomorrow, so just get some rest for tonight."
Following Kotoha, a short text came from Miu.
"Will hear it tomorrow."
"...Figures."
The words slipped out.
On the day of the fire, the three of them had been there too. Even after I vanished into the building, they kept waiting outside, and they stayed by my side the entire time after I was rescued. When I was looking for the person whose face and name I didn't know, they had lent me their strength.
I wanted to tell them properly, in my own words, that Aiba-kun was the person from that day, and explain what had happened today.
Even so, I had no intention of talking about seeing the scar on his right shoulder, or the tears Aiba-kun had entrusted to me. The time he spent relaxing against my chest, falling asleep looking so relieved, was not something I could casually share with anyone either.
How much to share was up to me to decide. With that thought, I brought my fingers back to the screen.
"I'll tell you guys everything properly tomorrow. I'm going to sleep now."
"I'm dying of curiosity, but okay!"
After checking Rio's final reply, I glanced up at the top of the screen.
Tomorrow was Thursday.
The moment I saw the date, a quiet loneliness welled up in my chest.
Aiba-kun would be taking the day off from school tomorrow.
Remembering his mother's voice when she told me that brought back everything leading up to my departure from the Aiba household.
Koharu had returned, and Aiba-kun's mother had come home too. Even though I knew he was in good hands with the two of them there, I hadn't been able to bring myself to leave right away. Looking at Aiba-kun's sleeping face, the desire to stay by his side just a little longer refused to fade.
Even so, when his mother sat down at his bedside, touched his forehead, and looked warmly at his sleeping face, the tension finally drained from my body.
Even after I left, Aiba-kun wouldn't be alone. If he woke up and coughed, Koharu or his mother would notice. Even if his fever spiked or his right shoulder ached, he wouldn't have to endure it alone in silence.
There I was, sitting beside her son's bed wearing his mother's dark navy jersey. Seeing such a scene out of nowhere, it would have been completely natural for both of them to be bewildered. Yet, they never tried to push me away from Aiba-kun. They accepted that I was there out of genuine care.
It was still too early to think I had been accepted into Aiba-kun's family. I wasn't his girlfriend, nor had I been properly introduced to them.
Even so, the two people who cherished Aiba-kun hadn't treated my concern as a nuisance, allowing me to watch over him right alongside them. That made me so happy.
Before leaving the room, I had looked back at the bed one last time. Aiba-kun was still sound asleep. The towel I had folded was still under his right arm, the pillow was still arranged to keep his upper body slightly elevated, and the water and thermometer were right where I had left them within reach.
—Mom and I are here for Big Brother. You must be tired today too, Mikage-senpai, so please leave the rest to us.
Given that gentle push by Koharu, when Aiba-kun's mother offered to drive me home, I ultimately answered, "Yes, please."
Aiba-kun wouldn't be left alone, and I would make it home safe. Despite knowing that, the moment I stepped out of the Aiba household's entryway, it felt as though I had left a piece of my heart behind in that house.
Walking toward the car, I almost looked up toward the second floor. But from the outside, I couldn't tell which window belonged to Aiba-kun's room, so I stopped midway.
Perhaps noticing my hesitation, Aiba-kun's mother looked up at the second floor as well, offering me a reassuring, gentle smile.
"Koharu is watching him, so he'll be fine."
Even after the car started moving, I couldn't bring myself to look straight ahead. I followed the rain-drenched Aiba household with my eyes, and only after it vanished around the corner did I finally lower my gaze to my lap.
"Serina-san. Thank you for bringing him home today."
At the sound of her voice from the driver's seat, I raised my head.
Until a little while ago, she had addressed me as "Mikage-san," but once we arrived, she would be meeting my parents. Thinking it might cause confusion, I had asked her after getting into the car, "Serina is fine."
"No... It was just what I wanted to do..."
"Even so. It was pouring like that, after all. And when I got home, you were right there by his side while he slept... It was truly a huge help."
While I was searching for words to reply with, the traffic light turned green, and the car began moving again.
"Ever since he was little, that boy has always been so attentive to others, but when it comes to himself, he always tries to brush everything off with 'I'm fine.'"
That sounded so like Aiba-kun.
If my right leg hurt, he noticed right away, and if Koharu was pushing herself too hard, he worried about her before himself. Yet, he compressed his own fever and cough into that single phrase "I'm fine," and even when his right shoulder throbbed with pain, he tried to hide it.
"Even though he tells Koharu not to push herself, he'll rarely ever admit that he's doing the exact same thing."
"...He said that today, too. That he was 'fine.'"
"I knew it. That's why seeing him come home leaning on you today, Serina-san, made me a little happy."
Surprised by her unexpected words, I turned toward the driver's seat.
Stopping the car at a red light, Aiba-kun's mother looked over at me for the first time.
"It made me happy that he was able to rely on someone. It might sound strange, though."
"It's not strange at all."
The answer left my lips before I could even think.
I remembered the mixture of worry and relief I had felt when Aiba-kun leaned his weight against me. I could tell his mother was feeling both of those things as well.
"I'm going to have him take tomorrow off from school."
When the light changed, Aiba-kun's mother turned her eyes back to the road.
"Even if his fever breaks tonight, I plan to keep him home for a day to see how he is. He had a cough, and his body must be exhausted."
"Yes. I think that's for the best."
"I'll decide on Friday after seeing how he does tomorrow. Koharu and I will be by his side tonight, so you don't need to worry."
"...Please take care of him."
"Yes. Leave it to us."
Recalling our conversation in the car, I tightened my grip on my smartphone.
I wanted him to sleep well tonight and rest up at home tomorrow. I wanted him to return to school only after his fever, cough, and lingering exhaustion were completely gone.
And yet, just the thought of going to school and not being able to see him made my heart sink.
"...It hasn't even been that many hours."
And already, I wanted to see his face.
Lifting my eyes from the dark screen, I watched the streetlights blur beyond the raindrops streaming down the windowpane. Gazing at that soft glow, the things I had seen in his room came drifting back to my memory, along with Aiba-kun's sleeping profile.
It wasn't that I had snooped around. They were just things that had naturally caught my eye during the brief moments I looked away from his resting face.
One of them was a family photo.
It was taken in front of what looked like a traditional wooden inn, framed by a lush, green summer hillside under a wide, clear sky.
In the center stood Aiba-kun and Koharu, looking like they were in early elementary school. Behind them was Aiba-kun's mother, whom I had met for the first time today, alongside a black-haired man with bangs falling over his forehead. The tall man was stooping down slightly, smiling gently at the same height as the children—a calm, warm expression that unmistakably lived on in the Aiba-kun of today.
That person had to be Aiba-kun's father.
I only knew from Koharu that their father was no longer around. Beyond that, I knew nothing of the circumstances.
The young Aiba-kun in that picture belonged to a past I knew nothing about. Days spent beside his parents, living as Koharu's older brother, surrounded by his family.
Within that family, what kind of child had Aiba-kun been?
Had he hidden his pain back then just like he did now? Or had he been able to act spoiled, laughing freely out loud with his family?
I wanted to know.
Yet, I didn't want to make assumptions from a single photograph. Rather than pretending to understand things Aiba-kun had never spoken of, I wanted to wait until he felt like sharing them, listening by his side whenever that day came.
Following that memory, another detail from the room surfaced in my mind.
A drawing of a star, sketched by a child's hand. The paper was slightly warped, and the childish handwriting beneath it showed faint smudges.
—Get home safely, all the way to "I'm home."
Was it something Aiba-kun had drawn as a boy, or was it a drawing by Koharu that he kept in his room? I still didn't know what those words meant, or why he cherished them so deeply to this day.
Even so, remembering those words brought today's Aiba-kun clearly to mind.
Insisting he was fine despite burning with a fever, trying to walk home alone even as he coughed. While he would never hesitate to reach out a hand to save someone else, he was terribly clumsy when it came to leaning on others just to get himself home.
On the day of the fire, Aiba-kun had guided me back to my friends. But in exchange, he had suffered a permanent scar on his right shoulder and lost consciousness.
I didn't know how the words beneath that star drawing connected to what he did back then.
However, our walk home today had been different from that day.
Aiba-kun had draped his left arm around my shoulders and leaned his weight against me. Matching our steps one by one, we made our way back to the Aiba household together. Even after reaching the entryway, he didn't pretend he could manage on his own, asking for my help to take off his soaking-wet shirt.
And in the end, he had let go of all his tension and fallen asleep against my chest.
Today, I had been able to walk alongside Aiba-kun on his way back home.
That made me so happy.
I wasn't the only one who supported him. Aiba-kun had taken those steps himself, leaned on me, Koharu had returned to his side, and his mother had come home. Right now, his family was watching over him.
Aiba-kun didn't have to carry everything alone just to get home.
I hoped that, from now on, I could be part of that circle too.
Gently, I placed a hand over my chest.
The heat that had radiated from Aiba-kun's forehead came rushing back. The breath brushing against my ear, the solid weight on the arm I wrapped around his back, the faint traces of tears on his cheek—they were all still etched into me.
Aiba-kun had cried in front of me. He had put his suffering into words, asked for help with what he couldn't do alone, and finally allowed himself to relax.
It wasn't that I wanted to keep his vulnerability all to myself. It was just that the fact he trusted me enough to show it was so special, I wanted to lock it away deep in my heart.
The brave figure who saved me from the fire was a part of Aiba-kun, too. But that wasn't the only reason he meant so much to me.
He saw me as an individual, never presuming to understand my fears or hesitations, always giving me room to make my own choices. He was cherished by his family, and he cherished them just as deeply. Yet, he was surprisingly clumsy when it came to his own pain, murmuring "I'm fine" in a raspy voice even when burning up with a fever.
It was because of who he was that the more I learned about him, the more precious he became to me.
Standing up from the chair, I sat down on the bed.
Wanting to feel that closeness once more, I pulled the pillow against my chest. When I closed my eyes, his voice seemed to whisper right beside my ear.
—I'm so glad... you're safe, Mikage-san.
Burying my face into the pillow, I could even picture his relieved smile after making sure I was all right.
"Seriously, that's not fair..."
Muttering where no one could hear, I pressed my face deeper into the pillow. Unable to contain the restless flutter in my chest, I kicked my legs against the duvet a couple of times before suddenly catching myself and freezing.
"Seriously... what am I even doing?"
Saying it out loud only made the blush burning my cheeks feel hotter. Even so, I couldn't bring myself to let go of the pillow.
It wasn't that I wanted to forget. Every time I remembered, warmth filled my chest, swiftly followed by a wave of embarrassment. My arms tightened around the pillow once more.
Had Aiba-kun noticed how hard my heart was pounding back then? Wondering about that made me completely clueless as to what face I should make the next time we met.
Even so, I wanted Aiba-kun to remember that moment—the time he felt safe enough to let all his strength fade against my chest. Just imagining facing him next time made me blush, yet the thought of him looking over and catching my eye made the corners of my mouth lift on their own.
I never knew this side of myself existed.
I hadn't known, but I couldn't bring myself to hate who I became whenever I thought of him.
Still hugging the pillow, I reflected on the feelings swelling uncontrollably inside me.
I want to see him. I want to know more about him. I want him to lean on me when things get tough. Not just to check his temperature, and not just to support him when he's sick, but simply to touch him. I want to be one of the people Aiba-kun holds dear, too.
Listing them off one by one made me a little uneasy.
"...Am I being too heavy?"
Maybe because this was the first time I had ever fallen for someone like this, I didn't even know where the line for "normal" was.
What would Aiba-kun think if he knew everything I was feeling? I didn't want to burden him, nor did I expect him to return those exact same feelings right away. Even so, whenever it came to Aiba-kun, the things I found myself wishing for kept multiplying.
Something was growing so large inside my chest that the single word "like" couldn't possibly hold it all. That much, I understood.
Pressing my cheek against the edge of the pillow, I pondered for a quiet moment.
"...Well, almost all of it is still locked in my head anyway. So I'm in the clear for now, right?"
I didn't even know what standard I was using to call it "safe." Finding my own convenient excuse a little funny, I let out a soft laugh.
Placing the pillow back where it belonged, I slipped under the duvet. When I switched off the light, the shadows of the rain trailing down the window drifted faintly across the dark ceiling.
When we meet next time, I want to talk about everything that happened today with a healthy, recovered Aiba-kun.
"...Get well soon."
I softly whispered the words, letting them blend with the sound of the rain that was surely falling on Aiba-kun's room, too.
"Good night, Aiba-kun."
Listening closely to the steady, rhythmic patter of the rain, the tension gradually left my body, and I finally drifted off to sleep.