AM N. NOT.šš»
Maki and Unohana remained in each other's arms, neither willing to let go, savoring every passing second.
For Unohana, this was unfamiliar territory.
The sensation rising within her chest felt strangely similar to the thrill she experienced in battle. But this time, there was no blood. No pain. No clash of blades.
What filled her instead was warmth. Excitement. A trembling kind of anticipation.
Not the thrill of fighting.
The thrill of being with him.
She didn't understand it.
What was this feeling?
Her arms tightened around him unconsciously, as if afraid he might disappear the moment she loosened her grip. She could feel the firmness of his body beneath her hands. His scentāclean, steady, reassuringācalmed her in a way she had never known.
Time itself seemed to slow, bending gently around them.
Maki continued pressing soft kisses against her forehead. But gradually, he felt heat rising to his head. He pulled back slightly and looked down at her.
"Are you alright?" he asked softly.
Unohana lifted her gaze to meet his.
A gentle smile curved her lips.
"I'm fine."
They stared at one another, silent yet speaking through their eyes.
Maki adjusted his hold, wrapping his arms higher around her back and pulling her closer against his chest. He could feel both the softness and the firmness of her body. She felt it tooāthe steady warmth, the quiet strength in his embrace.
They lingered like that for a long while.
Then, at the same time, they smiled.
Their moment was broken by two exaggerated coughs in perfect sync.
Mei and Nemuri stood nearby, their expressions clearly tinged with envy.
Rangiku blinked back to reality and smirked knowingly, who knew what thoughts were running through her head. Isane remained flushed, still recovering from what she had witnessed, yet there was genuine happiness in her eyes.
But Maki and Unohana still didn't let go.
Unohana rested her head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Maki gently patted her back, his touch slow and comforting.
Nemuri clasped her cheeks dramatically. "Such youthfulness. I approve."
Mei bit lightly on her thumbnail. "Enjoy your happy moment."
Maki glanced down at Unohana.
"Can I call you Hana?"
Unohana looked up at him, her expression soft.
"Do as you please."
Anyone who knew Unohana's true nature would have found this scene utterly unbelievable.
That Unohana?
The battle fanatic.
The woman who found ecstasy in combat.
The one who could smile while cutting down her enemies.
And now she stood here, nestled in a man's arms like a maiden in love.
It felt impossible.
Yet it was happeningāhere and now.
Unohana lifted her head slowly.
Maki leaned down instinctively.
Their faces drew closer.
Closer.
Without hesitation, their lips met.
The first kiss was briefājust a soft brush, testing the warmth.
The second lingered slightly longer, letting them feel each other's breath.
The third pressed deeper, not forceful, just certain. Unohana felt the faint moisture against his lips. Maki noticed the sweetness on hers, likely from the tea she had been drinking.
"Get a room already," Rangiku said lazily, though her eyes never left them. She had clearly been enjoying the unfolding drama before interrupting.
They paused, but they didn't separate.
Eventually, the embrace loosened.
The others collectively released breaths they hadn't realized they were holding. It seemed they had expected something far more scandalous.
After a while, Maki finally stepped back.
He reached for another snack, tore the wrapper open, and took a bite. Then he casually held the remaining half toward Unohana.
She opened her mouth without hesitation.
He fed her.
The atmosphere shifted.
More comfortable.
More open.
Mei and Nemuri took seats beside Maki and began sipping the beverages Isane had prepared. Isane resumed her earlier question about Maki's class, mentioning she had never heard of a "special class" before.
The conversation gradually returned to normal, though the air still carried traces of what had happened.
"We're still waiting for Nezu's call," Nemuri said.
Mei nodded. "It would be simpler if he just assigned it to any floor. There are still many unoccupied rooms in the right wing."
Rangiku frowned. "But why create a special class out of nowhere?"
The others exchanged glances.
She didn't know.
Mei smirked. "Of course you don't know, Matsumoto. My Maki is special."
Nemuri added calmly, "There's more to it. But you'll have to ask him yourself."
They all turned toward Maki, who was happily finishing another snack. Wrappers were piling up on the table.
He really loved snacks.
Isane whispered shyly, "Should I learn baking?"
Everyone heard her.
An idea sparked silently among them.
After tea, Maki insisted on cleaning the table despite Isane's protests. He carried the cups and plates to the kitchen and began washing them carefully.
The clock read 18:26.
No one had noticed how much time had passed.
In the living room, the five women continued discussing Maki and what they had concluded earlier.
Meanwhile, in Nezu's office, the principal was finishing paperwork for students moving into the dormitories. Nearly ninety students would be using school housing this year.
His gaze settled on Maki's file.
Among the first-years, Maki's accommodations had been adjusted more than anyone else's. Nezu had ensured everything would suit him comfortably.
The Desiderium class had already been finalized.
Nezu reread Maki's final written answer from the exam.
The way he belittled his own life-threatening experience.
The way he diminished his own worth.
It was unsettling.
His eyes during the interview had said the same thing.
He didn't understand his own value.
Most students who possessed power strong enough to stand at U.A. knew it. Even if they didn't flaunt it, they carried pride deep inside.
But Maki?
Not even a trace.
That was what made him strange.
Strangeā¦ and interesting.
Nezu leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled thoughtfully as he continued thinking about the boy.
!!ć½(ļ¾Š“ļ¾ć½)(ļ¾ļ¾Š“ļ¾)ļ¾!!
AM N. NOT.