Heartbeats and Illusions

At some point, a light resistance came from his hand—it was Fujiwara Chika, gently trying to turn her head away.

"Don't move," Natsukawa Kanade said firmly.

What's this? Getting shy now? Too late for that! The arrow had already been nocked; there was no turning back from this level of skinship. He leaned in again.

"Haa—"

Kanade continued blowing gently into her eye, feeling like he'd been roped into the weirdest side quest imaginable. After a moment, he asked, "How does it feel now?"

Chika's cheeks turned a soft shade of pink, and her voice came out quiet and somewhat flustered. "S-still a little uncomfortable… can you… blow a bit more?"

Kanade nodded without hesitation.

Well, the patient had spoken. It was his duty to see this eye-blowing treatment to the very end.

He leaned in again, blowing softly.

"And now?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.

"...Just a little more," she whispered.

"...And after that?"

"M-maybe… a tiny bit longer…"

Kanade narrowed his eyes.

He was about to go in for round three when he caught something in the corner of his eye—a passerby. A girl walking past had stopped mid-step and was staring at them with an expression that said, "Are they filming a drama or something?"

The stranger then turned to her friend, whispering and giggling.

Only then did it hit him—they were still on the street. In public. With this weirdly intimate moment playing out for anyone to see.

Dame da, this looks way too suspicious!

"T-that's enough! If it still hurts, you'll have to deal with it yourself!" Kanade said in a sudden panic. He quickly pulled back his hands as if he'd touched something hot and even took two careful steps away from her—an attempt to physically distance himself from any possible misunderstandings.

"Ehh? You're not gonna take responsibility to the end?" Chika mumbled with a pout.

But then she blinked a few times, her lips curling upward. "Ah! It really doesn't hurt anymore! President is amazing!"

Kanade stared at her, deadpan. He had no idea how her logic worked—was she praising him or teasing him? Either way, he was too mentally tired to argue.

"So, what now?" Chika asked brightly, stepping closer again. "Where are we going next?"

Kanade gave her a look. "Going where? Obviously, we're heading home. Where else?"

The girl looked a bit deflated, like a kid being told recess was over. Realizing this, Kanade added, "Alright, alright. Let's call it a day for now. It's getting late anyway. If you really want to go out again, we can plan another day."

To be fair, they'd spent most of the afternoon helping track down Moeha's group, and they'd already had a couple of snacks while wandering. With nightfall settling in, Kanade wasn't keen on letting her walk home alone.

He opened up the umbrella in his hand and tilted it toward her.

"Come on. I'll walk you home."

"Yay~!" Chika bounced forward and tucked herself under the umbrella, promptly wrapping both arms around his.

Kanade didn't flinch this time. Practice makes perfect, after all. He just accepted the situation with quiet resignation and adjusted his walking pace accordingly.

With the rain gently falling around them, the mood mellowed. Chika, being the restless type, couldn't hop around like usual, so she redirected her energy into talking.

"Ne, Kanade-kun," she said, "the plum rain season's coming up soon, right? It's been raining off and on a lot lately."

"Yeah. The forecast says it'll get worse starting next week," Kanade replied. "But I don't mind that much. It's a good excuse to stay indoors—play some games, read some manga."

Rainy days weren't so bad anymore. Though sometimes, on the quieter nights, they brought a certain… emptiness. A kind of hush that settled in the chest and didn't quite leave.

Chika suddenly went quiet beside him.

Kanade glanced over. "What's wrong? You don't like the rain?"

Japan's plum rain season, known as tsuyu, was practically an annual boss battle. Beginning in mid-May and lasting until mid-July, it started from Okinawa and Kyushu and spread all the way inland. It soaked cities in drizzle, turning everything into a soggy blur for over a month.

Because it was unavoidable, most people in Japan simply learned to adapt to the relentless plum rain season. It was just another part of life—like cram school or seasonal anime schedules. In fact, entire industries thrived off it. Stores stocked shelves with beautifully designed umbrellas, fashionable rain boots, and raincoats so cute even elementary schoolers looked runway-ready. But still… the love-hate relationship was real. For most, tsuyu was a season to endure rather than enjoy—one long, damp inconvenience.

"I do dislike it a little," Fujiwara Chika admitted, nodding seriously. "Mainly because my hair gets all frizzy when it rains! And I can't really move around freely, right?"

That tracked.

Chika was the type who couldn't sit still if her life depended on it. At school, she was constantly popping up in random places—library, gym storage, even under the desks during hide-and-seek. But during the rainy season? Her energy had nowhere to go. No wonder she hated it.

"That makes sense..." Natsukawa Kanade nodded thoughtfully. He was starting to notice a pattern—Mahiru had said something similar before. Maybe girls with long hair really did suffer the most during this time. The humidity was their natural enemy.

"Which is exactly why!" Chika declared with sparkling eyes, "Before the rainy season traps us indoors forever, I need to squeeze in as much fun as I can! I haven't hung out with Kaguya in a while, come to think of it... Maybe I'll invite her out soon."

She tilted her head, an idea forming.

"Oh! You should ask too, Kanade-kun! The more the merrier, right? Maybe if both of us invite her enough times, she'll finally say yes!"

Kanade blinked, momentarily speechless.

Even you, her best friend, aren't sure she'll say yes... and you want me to try?

Still, now that he thought about it, he'd rarely—if ever—seen Kaguya outside of school. Her life seemed to loop between classroom, council room, and home like a glitchy NPC path. And yet, she never gave the impression that she liked living that way. If anything, her occasional glances toward others—those fleeting expressions—suggested she wanted connection, but didn't know how to reach for it.

Fujiwara Chika was probably the only one who could call her a real friend. As for him… maybe he could be considered one too, now? Just barely?

"Alright," Kanade said quietly, nodding. "I'll try asking her."

This wasn't pity. He wasn't trying to be some white knight. He just… didn't want to let rejection stop him from doing something that felt right.

"Ohh~ I'm counting on you, Kanade-kun!" Chika beamed with that signature sunshine smile of hers.

"..."

Honestly, compared to all the girls in his life, Fujiwara Chika had enough energy to power Tokyo Tower. On the walk back to her place, she talked non-stop—about everything and nothing—like a radio stuck on "high." But it wasn't annoying. Just... a bit dizzying. She didn't need a conversation partner so much as an audience.

When they finally reached her home, they exchanged the usual polite farewell. Predictably, Chika tried to drag him in again with her usual line.

"Just come in for a bit! I won't let you escape next time, ya hear me?! I'll drag you in if I have to!" she huffed, shaking her tiny fist with faux menace.

"Yeah, yeah… next time for sure," Kanade chuckled, waving her off.

He turned and began walking away, umbrella still in hand. It wasn't too far from her place, and since this route led away from the crowded train station, he chose to walk the whole way back. The rain had cooled the air, and the quiet streets made for a peaceful contrast to Chika's endless chatter.

After getting home, Natsukawa Kanade felt uncomfortably sticky all over. His shirt clung to his back, and the rain had left him with that unmistakable post-humidity sluggishness. Originally, he'd planned to hop straight into the bath, let the steam wash away the fatigue, and then relax with a light snack or maybe a few pages of manga.

But the moment he lay down on his futon, a sudden wave of exhaustion hit him like a freight train.

"Just… a quick nap," he muttered to himself as he peeled off his damp clothes and flopped down onto the sheets, half-lidded eyes already losing focus.

The world went dim.

_____________

When he slowly opened his heavy eyelids again, something felt… different.

The ceiling wasn't quite where it was supposed to be—or rather, it wasn't what he saw first.

Instead, a curtain of soft, flaxen hair danced faintly before his eyes.

His gaze followed the silky strands upward until they framed a familiar face—Shiina Mahiru. The angel was sleeping beside him, her expression calm and serene. Her long lashes fluttered just slightly as she breathed, her chest rising and falling gently like the tide.

"Ugh..." Kanade let out a low breath. The sight before him was both confusing and oddly comforting.

Why was she here?

Why was she—sleeping next to him?

He tried to sit up, but a crushing weight seemed to press against his entire body. His limbs felt like they were submerged in lead, and his head spun with even the slightest movement.

"..."

As if sensing the subtle stir, Mahiru stirred as well. Her amber eyes fluttered open, and she rubbed them softly.

"Ah... you're awake," she said in a quiet, sleepy voice. "Daijoubu? Is your body feeling any better?"

He blinked, trying to piece everything together. As he tilted his head slightly, something cool slipped from his forehead—a towel, damp and heavy, flopped onto his cheek.

"This is…?"

"Ah! Gomen," Mahiru said, quickly sitting up with an apologetic look. "I must've dozed off. You had a fever when I came, so I put that on to help cool you down."

She reached over, retrieved the towel, and gave it a fresh soak in the basin beside her. After wringing it out with practiced movements, she gently placed it back onto his forehead.

"You didn't reply to my messages earlier," she continued softly, "so I got a little worried and came to check. You were burning up when I arrived…"

Kanade blinked slowly. His mind still felt foggy.

"...What time is it now?"

"It's almost 10 o'clock," Mahiru replied, sitting at his side and lightly touching the side of his neck, checking his temperature. "Your fever's still a little high..."

He didn't say anything for a while.

Truth be told, he couldn't even tell how he was feeling. Everything inside him was muffled—like he was underwater. No energy. No motivation. Even thinking was too much.

"How's your body? Do you feel any better now?" Mahiru asked gently, concern clear in her voice.

Kanade tried to focus, to evaluate how he felt—but all he could manage was a weak groan.

His limbs wouldn't move, his vision was blurry around the edges, and even breathing felt like it took more effort than usual. His throat, in particular, was dry and uncomfortable, like he'd swallowed dust.

"…Water…" he rasped.

"Wait—I'll get it," Mahiru said quickly, turning toward the bedside table.

But as she reached for the glass she'd prepared earlier, she paused, realizing he didn't even have the strength to sit up on his own.

"…Hold on, I'll help."

Carefully, she slipped her arm around his back, helping him shift into a half-sitting position. But in the process, her eyes accidentally drifted lower—and then widened slightly.

"Ah—!" she let out softly, just barely catching herself.

"...?" Kanade turned his head, too out of it to process what had just happened.

"N-nothing!" Mahiru squeaked, her cheeks pink as she averted her gaze. For now, she focused entirely on helping him lean against the headboard properly.

She handed him the water but then hesitated, seeing the dazed look on his face. Without a word, she brought the glass to his lips herself.

Kanade didn't resist.

He couldn't.

His mind was in such a fog, he couldn't even muster the embarrassment. Sip by small sip, she helped him drink, careful not to let him gulp too fast.

Only once the glass was empty did Mahiru let out a soft breath of relief.

"…This won't help your recovery at all," she muttered, standing and glancing toward the chair where he'd tossed his damp clothes earlier. "I'll find something clean for you to wear."

The clothes on the chair were obviously no good—still a little damp and rumpled. She moved to his closet and searched carefully, frowning when she couldn't find anything resembling pajamas. After a moment, she settled on a long-sleeved shirt she'd seen him wear once before.

Returning to the bedside, she originally intended to just hand it over. But when she saw Kanade's eyes half-closed again, clearly on the verge of falling back asleep, she hesitated.

"…Can you raise your arms a little?"

Kanade barely moved.

Mahiru bit her lip, worry overtaking her embarrassment.

This was the first time she'd seen Kanade like this—so utterly drained. It was more than just a fever. He must have been enduring it for a while, silently, without saying a word to anyone.

Baka… you should've told me...

Even without much help from him, she managed to gently maneuver his arms and slip the shirt on him, careful not to cause too much discomfort. Her fingers brushed against his skin more than once, and normally she would've blushed or panicked. But this time, her only emotion was concern.

Once he was dressed and somewhat settled again, Mahiru sat beside him, lightly holding his hand.

"Feeling any better now?" she asked, voice soft and warm.

"…A little sleepy…"

"If you're sleepy, you can sleep," she said. But just as she was about to encourage him to lie down again, she remembered the medicine she'd prepared earlier. It wasn't the kind you could take on an empty stomach.

"Um… before that, can you eat a little something first?" she asked, gently squeezing his hand. "Just a little? Otherwise, you can't take the medicine..."

"…Yeah," Kanade replied weakly.

He was too tired to resist.

Too tired to pretend.

And perhaps… that's why Mahiru stayed.

Not as a classmate.

Not as a neighbor.

But as someone who truly cared.