Chapter 32: The Hot Spring Trip — Soaking in the Hot Spring or Soaking in You!

When we got back to the inn, Song Tao had already returned to normal.

At least, she looked normal.

She was squatting in the entry way changing her shoes, the Orange Slice Hairpin was askew near her temple, and she was humming some unknown tune.

Li Li followed behind, clutching the hairpin Song Tao had dropped, having followed her the whole way without ever handing it over.

Xiao Yan held my hand, the hem of her yukata fluttering in the evening breeze.

She walked very slowly, and so did I.

Her index finger drew circles on my palm, making my heart itch.

We found half a box of Strawberry Daifuku in the kitchen fridge.

“I’m hungry.”

Xiao Yan said.

“Didn’t we just have dinner?”

“That was dinner. This is a midnight snack.”

She sat cross-legged on the kitchen counter and patted the spot next to her.

I climbed up, and the two of us sat side by side, legs swinging.

Her knee pressed against mine, the fabric of our yukatas rubbing together with a soft rustle.

She picked up a daifuku and brought it to my lips.

“Open up.”

“I can—”

“Open up.”

I obediently opened my mouth and took a bite.

The sweetness of strawberry melted on my tongue.

Her fingertip brushed my lips, pausing for a moment before pulling back.

A bit of cream stuck to her finger pad.

She looked at it but didn’t wipe it off.

“You got some on you.”

She said.

“Where?”

She didn’t answer.

Reaching out, her fingertip brushed the corner of my mouth.

The cream stuck to her finger pad.

She stared at that bit of white for half a second, then slowly put her finger in her own mouth and licked it off.

“Sweet.”

She said, her eyes fixed on me the whole time.

My face felt so hot it was about to catch fire.

She smiled, picked up another daifuku, but this time didn’t feed it to me.

She took a bite herself, then leaned in.

“Taste.”

Her lips pressed against mine, transferring the other half of the daifuku into my mouth.

Cream smeared between our lips, impossible to tell whose it was.

As I bit into the daifuku, I felt something clever and warm—like a little snake—nestled inside.

I made a muffled “Mm” sound.

She pulled back a little, stuck out her tongue to lick the cream from her own lip corner, then leaned in to lick mine clean.

“Silly.”

Her voice was soft.

Blushing, I tried to turn my head away and pushed at her, accidentally bumping her nose.

My fingertip got a bit of cream on it.

“S-sorry!”

She froze for a second.

Then she lowered her head and rubbed the cream from her nose onto my cheek.

“Giving it back to you.”

She smiled, her eyes curving into crescents.

“Childish.”

“Mhm, childish.”

She rubbed it again.

“Here, your childishness.”

The cream stuck to my cheek, a small, white patch.

She stared at that patch of cream, her eyes bright, as if looking at something amusing.

Her fingers slid slowly from my chin upwards, her finger pad stopping beside the cream, gently brushing its edge.

Then she leaned in.

Pressed her lips directly against it.

Her lips were soft, pressed against my cheek, her tongue lightly touching that bit of cream.

Warm, damp, sliding across my skin.

My entire body stiffened.

She didn’t pull away.

Her lips still pressed against my cheek, she licked again, rolling the remaining cream into her mouth.

Her tongue brushed my skin, very lightly, very slowly, as if tasting something.

“So sweet.”

“Thanks for the treat.”

Her voice was muffled against my skin, her lips pressed against my cheekbone.

I could feel the vibration with every word.

My ears were buzzing.

Her lips slowly moved from my cheek to the corner of my mouth, pausing there.

Then, along my jawline, bit by bit downwards, brushing past my chin, past my neck.

Her breath fanned over my skin, warm, puff by puff.

“Xiao Yan…”

My voice trembled.

“Hmm?”

Her lips stopped on my collarbone, not moving away.

“You…”

“What’s wrong?”

She lifted her head to look at me.

Her eyes were bright, the corners of her mouth lifted, cream smeared on her lips, white.

I couldn’t speak.

She picked up a bit more cream, wiping it from the daifuku, and slowly dabbed it onto my collarbone.

Cool, sticky, a small white patch resting in the hollow of my collarbone.

“Here too.”

Her voice was low.

She lowered her head, her lips pressing against my collarbone.

Her tongue lightly touched that bit of cream, rolling it into her mouth.

Then she didn’t leave; her lips stayed against my collarbone, her tongue peeking out again, slowly licking away every last trace of cream.

Her tongue brushed my skin, very lightly, very slowly, as if tracing something.

My whole body was burning, my legs so weak I could barely hold myself up, only kept from sliding down by her arm around my waist.

She lifted her head to look at me.

A bit of cream still clung to her lips, red and glistening.

“Sweet.”

She said.

Then she smiled.

Not the mischievous smile from before, but a very soft, very light one, with eyes curved into crescents.

“Want more?”

She asked.

I shook my head.

My throat was tight, unable to speak.

She smiled, picked up another bit of cream, and smeared it on her own collarbone.

The white cream rested in the hollow of her collarbone, stark against her skin, dazzlingly white.

“Then it’s your turn.”

She said.

I stared at that bit of white on her collarbone and swallowed.

Leaned in.

When my lips touched her collarbone, her breath hitched.

My tongue lightly touched that bit of cream.

The strawberry sweetness melted on her skin, mixing with the scent of Orange Candy from her body and a hint of dampness from the hot spring steam.

She didn’t move.

But her breathing grew heavier and heavier, her chest rising and falling against me.

I lifted my head.

She was looking at me, eyes bright, lips slightly parted.

“Mhm.”

She responded softly, her voice a bit hoarse, nasal.

Mist drifted lazily outside the window, moonlight spilling onto the tatami like a thin layer of silver frost.

The two of us sat by the window, sharing the same thick coat.

Her arm was wrapped around my waist, her chin resting on my shoulder.

Her fingers slid slowly from my side to my arm, then from my arm back to my side, over and over.

“The first time you saw me alone after you became a girl,”

Her voice was very soft,

“What was I doing?”

“In the changing room, helping me get dressed.”

“Your face was so red.”

“You noticed?”

“Mhm.”

My voice grew small, my fingers unconsciously reaching for the Light Blue Ribbon tied around her wrist.

It was what she used to tie her hair with before.

Later, she switched to hair ties, and this ribbon had stayed tied around her wrist.

The color had faded a bit from all my washing.

She looked down at it and smiled.

“This?”

She shook her wrist,

“You’ve been hiding it for this long?”

I didn’t speak.

My ears were burning hot.

“Because…”

I paused, burying my face in the crook of her neck, my voice muffled,

“Because it was yours. Back then, I didn’t dare tell you I liked you, so I wanted to keep something of yours with me.”

She didn’t speak.

A second of silence.

Two seconds.

Then she tightened her arm, holding me closer.

“Silly.”

Her voice was a bit hoarse,

“You liked me back then?”

“Kept it hidden the whole time?”

“Touched it every day?”

She buried her face in my hair and let out a muffled laugh.

“Me too.”

Her voice was very soft,

“I liked you from the moment you first became a girl.”

I looked up at her.

The rims of her eyes were a bit red.

“Then why didn’t you say so earlier?”

I asked.

“Waiting for you to say it first.”

She pinched my nose,

“Ended up waiting so long.”

I buried my face back in the crook of her neck and didn’t speak.

She untied the ribbon from her wrist, wound it around mine, and gently tied a bow.

The ribbon was soft, brushing against my skin, cool.

“It’s too long.”

I said.

“Mhm.”

She turned my hand over, palm up, and placed her own hand over it.

The ends of the ribbon hung down, entwining both our wrists, swaying slightly like butterfly antennae.

“Now it’s not too long.”

She laughed.

“The little bunny can’t run away either.”

After washing up, the two of us squeezed onto one big bed.

She circled me from behind, her chin in the hollow of my shoulder, her breath fanning over my neck, ticklish.

Her fingers slid slowly from my side to my stomach, stopping there, her palm pressed against my skin, unmoving.

“Can it be like this every day from now on?”

I whispered.

“For a whole lifetime.”

She pinched my side,

“You can’t run away. I’m watching you.”

“How will you watch me?”

“Go to school with you every day, leave school with you, soak in hot springs with you, look at the stars with you.”

Her lips brushed my earlobe, taking it gently between her teeth and giving it a light rub,

“I’ll even follow you when you shower.”

“Pervert.”

“Mhm, pervert.”

She laughed, tightening her arm,

“Your pervert.”

She turned me over to face her.

Our noses touched, breaths mingling.

“Had enough kisses for tonight?”

She asked.

“…Probably enough.”

“I haven’t.”

She lowered her head, pecked my lips,

“Again.”

Another peck.

“Again.”

Another peck.

I reached out to cover her mouth:

“Enough, enough.”

She licked my palm.

I pulled my hand back, and she took the chance to kiss me.

This time it wasn’t a peck, but a firm press, her lips soft, carrying the sweetness of the Strawberry Daifuku.

Her fingers slid into my hair, gently cradling the back of my head.

We kissed for a long time.

So long that the mist from outside drifted in, cool against our skin.

She let go of me, her forehead resting against mine.

“Goodnight, little bunny.”

“Goodnight.”

She pressed a kiss to my forehead.

I snuggled deeper into her embrace, holding her arm, and closed my eyes.

The ribbon on my wrist brushed against hers, soft, ticklish.

Her heartbeat pressed against me, thump-thump-thump-thump, as fast as my own.

The corners of my mouth lifted, impossible to press down.