I Won't Be a Loser

As the door closed once again, Mai slowly opened her eyes. Beneath her sleepy gaze were faint dark circles, a sign of her restless night. She stared at the doorway where her daughter had just left, then buried herself deeper into the bed. Lifting the blanket slightly, she pressed it against her face, covering her nose and mouth.

Breathing in the familiar scent lingering on the fabric, she felt some of her unease and tension gradually fade away. She blinked a few times, exhaustion weighing heavily on her body, and before she knew it, she had curled up beneath the covers once more, closing her eyes.

After confirming that her mother was still resting in her room, Setsuna moved carefully through the house, taking extra care not to make any noise. Returning to her own room, she opened her wardrobe and stared at the rows of neatly arranged clothes.

She hesitated.

Her relationship with Haruto was still new—so new that her understanding of him remained at the level of casual acquaintances. She knew basic details, but his personal preferences, his little quirks—those were still a mystery to her.

Standing quietly in her room, gazing at her wardrobe, she deliberated for a long time. Then, she made up her mind.

I should just ask him directly.

Closing the wardrobe, Setsuna stepped out of her room. She cast a quick glance at her mother's closed door, then quietly made her way to the entrance. Slipping on her white canvas shoes, she stepped out of the house.

As she locked the door behind her, she instinctively glanced across the street toward Haruto's apartment.

Something was different today.

Normally, his floor-to-ceiling windows would be open by this time of the morning, allowing fresh air and sunlight to filter in. But today, the curtains were tightly drawn, concealing the room from view.

Is he still asleep?

She hesitated. It was already 8:30 AM. Haruto was usually up by six, an early riser by habit. There was no reason for him to still be in bed.

Her hesitation lasted only a moment before she firmed her resolve and headed toward the stairs.

The soft morning light, filtered through the curtains, left the room dim and peaceful. Sitting on his bed, still dressed in his sleepwear, Haruto had been awake for some time—but he hadn't gotten up yet.

He rubbed his face with both hands, then finally threw off the blanket and rose to his feet.

Walking into the bathroom, he turned on the faucet, washed his hands, and splashed cold water onto his face. Raising his head, he looked at his reflection in the mirror. Dark circles shadowed his eyes.

With a tired sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose before instinctively lifting his arm and sniffing himself.

A pause.

Then, without another thought, he turned on the shower.

While the water heated up, he returned to his bedroom and grabbed a set of fresh clothes. Tossing his sleepwear into the washing machine, he glanced at his unmade bed—then, on impulse, stripped the bedsheets and pillowcases as well, stuffing them into the washer.

The small machine was nearly overflowing by the time he added detergent and disinfectant. Once everything was set, he turned back toward the bathroom and stepped inside.

Ding-dong—

The doorbell rang just as Haruto was drying himself off in the bathroom.

At first, he thought he had imagined it.

Ding-dong—

The sound came again.

Frowning slightly, he stepped out of the bathroom, running a towel through his damp hair as he walked toward the entrance. Peering through the peephole, he saw Setsuna standing outside.

A brief silence.

Taking a deep breath, he slowly opened the door.

Standing before her, dressed in nothing but a towel loosely wrapped around his waist, Haruto met Setsuna's startled gaze.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

A faint flush rose to Setsuna's cheeks.

"…Were you in the shower?" she finally asked.

Haruto gave a small, amused smile. "Yeah. I wasn't feeling too great when I woke up, so I thought a quick rinse would help. And just as I got out, I heard the doorbell ring. Perfect timing, huh?"

His relaxed demeanor only made Setsuna more conscious of his state of undress.

Her gaze involuntarily flickered downward. His physique was lean but well-proportioned—his skin smooth, every muscle subtly defined. For the briefest moment, the image of Michelangelo's David flashed through her mind.

This was the first time she had ever seen a man's body like this.

And it wasn't just any man—it was Haruto.

Feeling her face grow even warmer, she hurriedly stepped inside at his invitation. As she changed into house slippers, the familiar scent of his apartment filled her senses.

But before she could think too much about it, Haruto casually turned and walked back toward the bathroom.

"I'll just dry off and get dressed," he said over his shoulder. "Make yourself comfortable."

"Ah… O-okay."

Despite telling herself that there was no reason to be flustered, Setsuna sat quietly in the room, hands resting on her lap.

Meanwhile, behind the closed bathroom door, Haruto exhaled a long breath.

He glanced at the mirror, shook his head slightly, then picked up a towel and resumed drying himself off.

Roughly ten minutes later, Haruto reemerged, now dressed in a crisp white shirt.

Setsuna, who had been waiting, couldn't help but steal glances at him as he moved. His every action seemed effortless, natural.

After buttoning his shirt, he retrieved a pair of trousers and slipped them on before heading toward the kitchen.

He poured two cups of tea, handing one to Setsuna.

Taking a small sip, he casually asked, "Did you stay at Saionji's place last night?"

Setsuna blinked in surprise. "Huh? Did my mom tell you?"

"You told Mai-san, and she passed the message along. Did you stay over with just Saionji?"

There was something unreadable in his expression, but nothing resembling disappointment.

Setsuna hesitated, then shook her head.

"…Kotonoha was there too."

Hazuto raised an eyebrow. "Three of you?"

She nodded.

He had assumed she had only spent the night with Saionji. But now that he thought about it, there was no real reason for Setsuna to stay there unless there was something more to it.

A contemplative look crossed Haruto's face as he studied her quietly.

Was she feeling hesitant? Regretful?

For a brief moment, he wondered if she was having second thoughts.

Then, making up his mind, he decided to reassure her.

"I have to go to school tomorrow, why not... forget it?"