That Which Shall Not Be Moved (1)
"…Huh?"
Halfway down the stairs, Ninomae tilted her head. A voice struck her ears—familiar, and yet somehow strangely foreign. It didn't take her long to realize that what she was hearing was a recording of her own voice, ringing from outside her body, undistorted.
She headed for the living room, and there on the television Mary Tepes was dancing. A recording of yesterday's first-anniversary live concert was playing. Judging by the interface, it wasn't something captured by hand; it had to be a video uploaded to Etube. The picture was excellent—did the company put it straight up on the official channel? Even as the thought crossed her mind, Ninomae scurried over to the back of the sofa.
She stretched her arms out and wrapped them around Han Seoyeon from behind. The moment Seoyeon turned her head, Ninomae kissed her cheek and broke into a bright grin.
"What on earth are you staring at so hard this time? You already watched the live broadcast yesterday."
"As if I'd ever tire of Shutang's performance from nothing more than a second viewing."
"Oh, come on. What kind of thing is that to say?"
She gave Seoyeon's shoulder a light smack, as if to scold her for talking like that, but one look at her face made it plain she wasn't displeased.
Han Seoyeon paused the video and turned toward Ninomae. She was putting "Ninomae" ahead of "Mary." Ninomae tried not to let it show, but there was no denying it lifted her mood even higher.
Then Seoyeon's gaze drifted past her, to the trunk bag perched atop the flock of flapping bats at her back. Clothes and toiletries, most likely, packed away inside.
"Are you heading out now?"
"Yes. They said the car's arrived out front."
"Travel safely."
Han Seoyeon smiled as she offered the words of farewell. Even after hearing them, Ninomae didn't move an inch.
"Ninomae-san? What's the matter?"
"Um, well…"
At Seoyeon's response, Ninomae murmured in a very small voice.
"…Isn't there, um, a 'have-a-good-trip' chu?"
A few seconds of silence. Ninomae's face steadily flushed scarlet. In the end she couldn't endure the atmosphere, and she belatedly waved her hands, trying to take the words back—but this time Han Seoyeon was faster.
"Nh—"
She caught Ninomae by the collar and drew her in, light as a tug, until their lips met. Pitched forward, Ninomae startled and her eyes flew wide; then her expression softened, and she accepted her.
They mingled their tongues the way they mingled their gazes. When Ninomae carefully, cautiously pushed hers in, Han Seoyeon smiled with her eyes and tangled with her in return—then pressed forward little by little, slipping back into Ninomae's mouth. Before long the tip of Seoyeon's tongue tickled the roof of it.
"…Nnh."
The shiver lasted only an instant before Ninomae, refusing to lose, clung to her all the harder. She licked up along the flat of her tongue, then wound around it to feel the texture, and as the two of them mixed she swallowed the saliva that had pooled shallow between them.
Gulp. A lukewarm aftertaste clung to her throat on the way down. Common sense said there was no such thing as taste in the esophagus, and yet somehow a faint sweetness seemed to linger all the same.
"Ah…♥"
How much time had passed? Han Seoyeon let go of Ninomae's collar, and their lips parted once more. A little of the strength went out of her, and her body went slack. It probably hadn't been so very long. Or perhaps it had only felt that way—nothing more than a trick of the mind.
Either way, that Ninomae felt a considerable regret at the ending was obvious from the tongue still peeking just past her lips. The crimson tip twitched, small and wistful. From it a transparent thread stretched to Han Seoyeon's mouth, bowing and lengthening downward under its own weight, until it lightly dampened the collar of Seoyeon's clothes and left a small stain.
"…The car is waiting outside, isn't it?"
"……Nnh. Yes."
Perhaps she had caught the look in those eyes, reluctance practically dripping from them, for Han Seoyeon said it with a wry smile.
Keeping someone waiting too long was never a good thing. Ninomae knew that too, so even as her gaze brimmed with regret, she slowly got to her feet.
"Then… I'll really be off."
She still looked terribly unwilling as she turned to go. Han Seoyeon watched her for a moment, as if turning something over, then softly lifted the corners of her mouth and spoke.
"Hnyah?! …Heh, ehehe. I'll be back, Shion-san!"
"A date, you see, starts from the moment you meet!"
"……Sorry?"
That was how it began.
At the words Yuri produced out of nowhere, Ninomae's eyes went round. She was no doubt wondering what this mad(?) romantic meant to say this time.
"No. Well, I mean, a date is from when you meet until you part, sure…? Unless you're about to pull the elementary-school field trip line. 'The field trip lasts until the moment you get home!'"
If one defined a date as lovers meeting and doing this and that, then it was certainly a date from the instant they met.
"No. That isn't what I mean. It's more like this."
But Yuri shook her head, then cleared her throat with a small ahem.
"You show up just shy of the exact time and say, 'Sorry, did you wait long?'—when you've actually been there at least ten minutes early—and the other person says, 'No, I just got here too.' …Even that little back-and-forth counts as part of the date! That's what I'm saying!"
"Uh, um, I feel like I sort of understand, but I really don't want to…"
Faced with the one-woman show, complete with shifting tones of voice, Ninomae dug her fingers into the spot between her brows. She was starting to wonder whether taking romance advice from this person was really the right call. All the more troublesome, because if she kept listening she was usually persuaded in spite of herself.
"But don't you want to see it? Shion-san, eyes gone wide at you dressed up more than usual, fumbling and hesitating?"
"……"
"Waiting at the meeting place, hearing Ninomae-san's voice, looking that way—and freezing on the spot…"
"Aaah, fine, I'll admit it, okay?!"
This time was no different. It was the sort of talk that stirred her interest from the mere hearing of it, and in the end Ninomae had no choice but to nod.
"The problem is that living together actually gets in the way. She'll see the whole process of getting ready for the date, right there in the same house. …But since we know the problem, the solution is simple. Sleep somewhere else the night before, and meet at the appointed place."
"Mmm… it doesn't sound bad… Then the problem is where I'd find a place to sleep…"
"If that's all, you can just stay at my house, can't you?"
"……What?"
Ninomae asked it back on reflex.
"Yuri-san's house?"
"Yes. Our house."
"…The one in Tokyo?"
"It's not as if I have a private villa. There isn't anywhere else, you know?"
"……?"
She rolled her eyes from side to side. So—the Hyakurenno main house? The one the current-affairs press sometimes called the Lotus Palace?
"No, no, no, no?! I can't! I can't, okay?! No matter how you look at it, setting foot in the Hyakurenno family as a mere private individual is mentally impossible?!"
Ninomae flailed both hands, aghast. A perfectly natural reaction.
"Ah, so it's fine as long as you aren't a private individual?"
"…Nyeh?"
And this, by any measure, was not a natural response.
"Hm? The gen-mates all crash together for a night? Doesn't sound bad."
"A pajama party with cute girls…? Let me in too, yeah? You don't even have to talk to me. Just let me breathe the air in the same room."
"Mmm… An old lady like me butting in while the girls are playing probably isn't a good look… Hm? Ah. If they tell the story later and I'm the only one left out, there could be rumors of a falling-out. I've got a track record from last time, so I need to be especially careful…? Aah. Fair enough."
It was plainly not an idea most people would have landed on, but her ability to act on it was something else. In less than twenty minutes Yuri had dragged in every member of Gen 2, and she wore a triumphant smile as she spoke.
"Well? This way you aren't a private individual, right?"
Ninomae had felt it before: once this young lady caught fire, her momentum was tremendous.
"Ah, since it's come to this, shall we make it an offline collab? I'll check with management."
"Wait, what? Whaaat?"
Aside from Mary, Gen 2 had no one in particular who could hit the brakes. Pair talents like that with a company whose default policy was laissez-faire—no, with a president who even encouraged their rampages to some degree—and the result was inevitable.
"Ah, hey, you there! Be careful not to spill potato-chip crumbs?! This is someone else's house!"
"I don't mind. Please make yourselves even more comfortable."
"This movie is already five years old. Time really does fly."
"How did this one end again? I'm sure I've seen it before."
"Didn't the protagonist's friend die?"
"Aah! Don't spoil it!"
"Mary-chan, you were pretending not to care, but you were secretly watching pretty hard."
"Eeeveryone~ heehee, the young lady's graduation album is riiight here!"
"Ah?! Wait! Can't you stop this instant? That's an order, as your employer!"
"It's fine. Could you bring it over, Maid-san? I'll hold Tsubasa-nee in place~"
…Well. This was how it ended up.