Reincarnation: Yukino Yukinoshita Is My Childhood Sweetheart

Hearing such a sultry voice echoing from the guest room—in the middle of the night, in his own home, no less—left Haru utterly bewildered.

He even began to wonder: when Shizuka had gotten up earlier to use the bathroom, had she also scouted the whole apartment?

If she had… then maybe, after confirming everyone was asleep, and under the influence of both the alcohol—two and a half cans of beer, after all—and the loneliness of being single for so long, she just couldn't resist the impulse to indulge in a little private ritual.

Honestly, it was a theory that made perfect sense.

Five seconds after sitting up, he flopped back onto the sofa.

The soft cushions and rustling of the blanket made a faint noise—barely audible, but in the silence of the night, it sounded amplified.

As his [Perception] skill extended outward, he noticed the sounds from the guest room pause—just for a second.

Then… they resumed.

Slow and fast, fluid and wavering—like the murmuring trickle of a mountain spring sliding over smooth stones. It twisted and turned, playful and clear, echoing gently across a pond's surface, like the night air itself had turned humid with ambiguous warmth.

He did his best to suppress his heightened senses, but with the door to the guest room left ajar, the sound filtered out effortlessly. Even if he shut off [Perception], that delicate, tantalizing voice still reached him.

It painted the air with a blush of sensuality.

Panicking slightly, he dove under his blanket, jammed on his Bluetooth earbuds, and pulled out his phone—screen dimmed to avoid drawing attention.

He moved at record-breaking speed. The second the earbuds connected, he opened his music app and tapped a random track.

"Ohhhh~ wash the seaweed, wash the seaweed~"

Not his favorite song by any means. One he rarely played.

But right now? He was deeply, eternally grateful for it.

Thank you, Bluetooth earbuds.Thank you, silly seaweed song.Thank you… for saving my soul.

He looped two songs under the covers, breathing slowly. When the music paused between tracks, the apartment had fallen quiet once again.

That voice… had stopped.

Relieved, Haru closed the music app, removed the earbuds, and peeked out of the blanket—

Only to hear a soft, slightly embarrassed voice from the guest room:"…Amamiya?"

His head throbbed.

No way. Why are you calling me now?!

Sure, he had made a small sound earlier when rolling over, but she could've just ignored it! Pretending not to notice would've saved them both the awkwardness.

Getting caught in a moment like that was bad enough—but now she was actively calling out to him?

He tried playing dead. But her voice came again, gentle and clear:

"Amamiya. You're awake, aren't you?"

Damn it. No escaping now.

He sighed, sat up, and glanced toward the guest room.

Warm orange light shone from inside—his cheap, bedside lamp, bought on sale as a four-pack. That warm glow now lit the corner of the room… and, apparently, Shizuka's courage.

Then came her voice, almost a whisper:

"Come in."

Haru froze.

Come in?Did she want to deliver a… live performance?

Sure, it'd be an unplugged session—raw, unfiltered—but that was not something he signed up for.

"…You really shouldn't have called for me just now," he said after a moment.

Shizuka didn't respond.

But he knew she was listening, so he continued in a low voice:

"You should've just pretended nothing happened. Then when morning comes, it wouldn't be awkward for anyone."

"…I couldn't help it," she replied softly from behind the door.

Haru's mind whirled. That could mean a lot of things.

And at a time like this, with her leaving everything so vague, it was way too easy to start imagining things.

Then her voice came again, more certain:"Come in. I want to talk to you."

Still leaning on the sofa, Haru called back, "If you want to ask me to keep this a secret, don't worry—I promise I'll forget everything by morning."

It wouldn't be the first time he'd kept something confidential for her. One more secret wouldn't change anything.

"Thanks," Shizuka replied politely.

Then she repeated, "But I still want to say it to your face."

Resigned, Haru slipped into his slippers.

What's with this woman? he muttered internally as he approached.

When the door opened a crack, and he saw the figure standing there in a loosely tied bathrobe, he suddenly stopped.

Bathed in the amber glow of the small lamp, her flushed face was tinged with something unusual—shyness, nervousness… and the lingering charm of someone caught in a private moment. Her eyes shimmered, glistening like a bittersweet elixir under the night.

In an instant, Haru understood.

Just like how Yukino or Utaha would collapse into his arms when exhausted, shedding their usual pride just to stay close a bit longer—

Right now, standing in front of him was a woman who had been alone for far too long. A woman who'd failed over and over at arranged dates, and who now faced a future of deepening solitude.

And she was just a little bit drunk.

He frowned for a moment.It wasn't even strong beer—why is she still flushed?

"Come in," Shizuka said again, blushing.

"I'm fine out here," Haru replied.

But she grabbed his wrist and pulled him in.

Caught off guard, Haru let himself be dragged inside. As she shut the door behind him, he gave her a wary look.

"…Do you realize what you look like right now?"

"No," she replied without hesitation.

She was clearly good at avoiding the point.

Haru gave a half-sigh, half-laugh. "Okay. So what do you want to talk about?"

Still flushed, she looked up at him. "I'm just… not feeling well."

"You mean the aftereffects of drinking? Want me to get you some water?"

"No," she shook her head.

She was still in that same robe—no belt, no buttons fastened. Haru politely turned his gaze elsewhere and offered, "Why don't you sit down first? I feel a little awkward talking like this while you're just standing there in that."

"But it's not like you haven't seen it before," she blurted.

Haru blinked.She froze too—face going redder.

"…That's not what I meant," she said quickly.

He didn't even know how to respond at this point.

They stood there in awkward silence before he sighed again. "Let's just get to the point. Whatever you want to say, just say it. That way, we can all get some sleep."

Shizuka bit her lip. Her hands clenched nervously at her sides, voice small:

"You… saw last time, right? So I just wanted to ask… what do you think of my body?"

Haru stared at her, deadpan. "…Do you want to listen to yourself right now?"

She looked embarrassed and indignant. "I just… wanted to know."

"And why? What's the point of that question?"

"It matters to me! I was stood up again last night… another arranged date that didn't even show up…"

She blurted it out all at once, then fell silent.

Now it made sense.

Haru finally understood why she'd asked him in. Why she was like this tonight.

She had tried to laugh and play it off while they gamed earlier. But in truth, it had all resurfaced—the sting of rejection, the countless failed attempts, the slow accumulation of doubt and hurt.

Earlier, she'd been a fierce competitor, full of bold words.

Now, she was simply lost.

Her head lowered, her expression conflicted. That beautiful, poised face now glowed with vulnerability and lingering charm. Her robe hung loose, hiding the curves of her body, save for the long, smooth legs visible beneath the hem—just enough to draw any man's gaze.

And in that moment… Haru realized.

This wasn't about seduction.

It was about being held.

The contrast between her flushed pink cheeks and the porcelain skin of her neck was mesmerizing—so stark that it made one instinctively curious about the beauty hidden beneath that loose bathrobe.

The air in the room was filled with the gentle mix of her shampoo and natural scent, drifting quietly through the dim space like a soft, invisible haze that refused to fade.

Haru sighed, rubbing his temple. "Do you… really want the truth?"

Shizuka didn't seem to mind the casual way he addressed her now. In fact, she looked a little hopeful, tilting her rosy face toward him with anticipation.

"My honest evaluation is: you're stunning," Haru said.

She blinked, clearly caught off guard. Her expression dimmed.

"I used to think that too," she murmured, "but every single time I go on a blind date, I get rejected."

Haru winced internally. As expected, whenever the topic veered toward marriage or dating, her usual intelligence and composure vanished, replaced by insecurity and a sense of gloom.

She wasn't even the same woman anymore.

"I meant what I said," he replied. "Anyway, how about sitting on the bed first? Even if you want to chat, at least get under the blanket—it's cold tonight."

Only then did Shizuka notice how chilly her bare legs were beneath the robe.

She instinctively turned to go back to bed but paused midway, glancing over her shoulder. "Aren't you cold?"

Haru gave a wry smile. "If I say I am, are you planning to invite me under your blanket?"

"I-I never said that!" she shot back, face flaring even redder.

Flustered, she quickly retreated to the bed and disappeared beneath the covers.

But the second her body curled up under the blanket, she was struck by a cold, damp sensation on the bedsheets.

A wave of heat and shame surged through her. As a mature woman who had been single for so long, she had little resistance to these kinds of thoughts. Her mind raced with shameful, irresistible images.

Haru, sensing her emotional shift, thought for a moment and then said calmly, "I'll go grab you a fresh set of sheets and a blanket."

Shizuka's face burned. She opened her mouth to protest but had no idea what to say.

Haru pretended not to notice her awkwardness and went to the wardrobe, retrieving the clean linens.

"I'll do it," she said quickly, not wanting to trouble him further.

Still flustered and lost in shame, she bent over to change the bed herself—completely forgetting to be careful around him.

As she pulled off the old sheets and leaned forward, Haru immediately turned away.

Damn—good thing I reacted in time. That bathrobe is way too short!

But now, his quick movement had basically revealed what he had been trying not to see.

Then again, if he hadn't turned away, he would've seen everything.

When Shizuka finished, she turned to see Haru with his back to her. Her eyes widened. Looking down at her robe, a realization hit her.

He saw it again...?

Her heart began racing wildly.

There was no taking it back. All she could do was place the used sheets aside and scurry back under the blanket in embarrassment.

Haru finally turned around, his expression composed. "Alright, you should get some rest. Don't dwell on all that nonsense—and definitely don't doubt yourself."

Shizuka kept her gaze averted, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. "I know... I just can't always help it. Especially when the reality keeps hitting me in the face…"

"What reality?" Haru interrupted. "You told me you were stood up, didn't you? That just means your date never even saw you. It wasn't about you. That's not on you."

Shizuka blinked, a bit dazed—perhaps from everything that had just happened. Her reaction was unexpectedly cute, almost ditzy. "So… you mean I'm actually beautiful?"

Haru kept a straight face. "I don't feel like repeating the obvious."

Her eyes brightened as she looked up, finally meeting his gaze. Her hair, glossy and dark, fell over one cheek, partially hiding the lingering blush on her mature, alluring face.

Maybe that small veil gave her a boost of courage.

She smiled.

"Looks like I was right about you before," she said, half-laughing. "You really do have the guts to tease me."

"Telling the truth counts as teasing now?" Haru raised an eyebrow—but deep down, he was relieved to see her returning to herself.

"…Thanks."

The word came out softly.

Before Haru could respond, she got out of bed, walked toward him—and suddenly threw her arms around him.

In that moment, Haru could feel her racing heartbeat, her warmth, and the soft, lingering fragrance that enveloped him.

"…Thank you," she whispered again.

His arms remained at his sides, not yet returning the embrace.

He tried to lighten the mood. "How long are you planning to hug me? Or are you planning to pull off some judo throw to get revenge for earlier?"

Shizuka didn't laugh.

Blushing, she murmured, "Just let me hold you… a little longer."

And in that brief embrace, the restless heat inside her heart found its quiet.