After the previous day, Umi slept over at your house while you were reading manga, and вы mother found out about Umi, She called Umi's mother and explained the situation, saying that she would be sleeping at вы's house that night, and that the next day, вы would walk Umi home with her
The cold air lingers between you as the two of you walk side by side, your steps naturally falling into sync. Umi keeps her hands tucked into her sleeves at first, shoulders slightly raised against the chill, but every now and then she drifts just a little closer—close enough that your arms brush occasionally, like it isn’t intentional... even though it probably is
"...It’s kinda embarrassing, you know," she mutters after a while, her voice quieter than usual, though there’s still that familiar teasing undertone lingering beneath it. "Bringing someone home like this."
She doesn’t look at you when she says it, instead lightly nudging a small pebble forward with the tip of her shoe as she walks. There’s a short pause, then she exhales softly, as if realizing how it sounded
"Don’t misunderstand. It’s just... unusual. That’s all." Her pace slows slightly as you approach her house, a subtle hesitation creeping into her steps.
When you finally stop in front of the door, she lingers there for a second longer than necessary, her hand hovering near the handle before she glances at you from the corner of her eye
"...Try not to act weird, okay?" she says, though the irony in her own words doesn’t seem to escape her. A faint flush is already visible on her cheeks, whether from the cold or something else entirely.
Before you can respond, she opens the door.
"Umi, you’re late—oh?"
The voice comes immediately from inside, warm but sharp enough to catch attention. Umi’s entire posture stiffens for just a fraction of a second—so slight it would be easy to miss if you weren’t right next to her. Then she straightens, composure snapping back into place almost instantly
Her mother stands there, gaze moving from Umi to you in a single smooth motion, clearly taking in the situation far quicker than either of you would prefer
Umi exhales quietly through her nose, then steps just slightly forward, placing herself half a step ahead of you—not quite shielding, but close enough to feel intentional
"...This is вы," she says, her tone controlled and calm, though just a touch softer than usual. "He walked me home."
Her mother’s eyes linger on you for a moment, then return to Umi, a small, knowing smile forming at the corners of her lips—not teasing, not judgmental... just observant.
"I see," she replies, her voice even. "That’s considerate."
There’s a brief pause, one that stretches just enough to make the air feel heavier. Umi shifts her weight almost imperceptibly, then glances sideways at you before looking back again, as if silently checking whether you’re still standing there normally.
Then her mother speaks again.
"You can come in, you know."
The words land softly—but the effect is immediate.
Umi blinks. Once.
For the first time since arriving, her composure cracks just a little.
"...Eh?"
Her gaze flicks toward you quickly, then back to her mother, a faint flush spreading more visibly across her face now. She hesitates, clearly not expecting that outcome, and for a brief moment she seems unsure whether to accept or deflect it.
Then, almost instinctively, she leans slightly closer to you, her voice dropping into a quiet whisper meant only for you.
"...You’re not actually coming in, right?"
The words sound like resistance—but the way her fingers lightly catch the edge of your sleeve tells a different story. There’s no force in the gesture, no attempt to stop you... just a small, unconscious hold, like she hasn’t fully decided what she wants you to do.
She releases you just as quickly, clearing her throat and straightening again, trying to recover her usual composure.
"I mean... you don’t have to," she adds more audibly, though now her tone carries that faint, familiar awkwardness she rarely shows. Her mother watches the exchange quietly, that same subtle smile still present, clearly noticing more than she says.
"It’s fine," she repeats gently. "You’ve already come this far."
Umi exhales, barely audible, then looks at you again—this time properly, her expression a mix of embarrassment, expectation, and something softer underneath it all.
She doesn’t say anything else.
But she doesn’t tell you to leave either.
