"...Mm, where are you going? Stay in bed a little longer." With my face buried in Kanata's chest as he breathed deeply, I found myself unable to move. I was supposed to have carried Kanata, who had passed out from drinking at home, to his bed, but he pulled my arm and I ended up caught as a substitute body pillow. That day, after hearing Kanata happily call out someone's name in his sleep, I was supposed to have given up on this love. Maybe this is punishment for not having the resolve to cut ties as childhood friends, and lingering close to him for so long. His steady breathing, the warmth from his skin, the faint scent of alcohol and Kanata. The heart I thought I'd given up on rebels, and a hot ache throbs in my lower abdomen. (...Just once, before Kanata wakes up.) I quietly slip out of Kanata's arms so he won't notice, and with my back turned, I silently reach a hand inside my clothes. Killing my breathing, desperately steadying my breath so as not to wake Kanata, I was moving my hand when— "Hey, what are you doing?" What echoed in my ear was Kanata's low, cold voice, though he was supposed to be asleep. At the same time, the hand around my waist pulls me in tight, completely blocking any escape.