Chapter 96
Chapter 96
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 96
Chapter Title: It's Still 4 Years Too Early (4)
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"Ugh."
Karin opened her eyes with a strange groan.
It was still early dawn, before the sun had even properly risen. But she'd collapsed unconscious and slept far too early, and on top of that, a bizarre dream had jolted her awake.
It was a dream of her—slightly older, her face worn smooth by the world—partying up with the Cafe Manager, who looked a little off somehow, as they dove in and out of the labyrinth.
But oddly enough, it didn't feel like their long acquaintance at all. It felt fresh, like a relationship of less than a year.
And for some reason, Senior Yumin had breezed past like some random extra.
Unlike her barely-adult self, the dream version of her seemed mid-twenties or older, locked in some strangely clingy relationship with the Cafe Manager—that was the real shocker.
She'd heard dreams were outbursts of the unconscious. No way.
Hell, that "relationship" wasn't just clingy. Sharing the same room to sleep, even bathing together now and then? Ridiculous.
The image of the Cafe Manager's body from the dream flashed through her mind. Karin clamped her eyes shut and swallowed hard.
No thoughts. No thoughts. Can't sink into weird obsessions.
"...Come to think of it, this is the Cafe Manager's room."
Realizing the sweat she'd poured out from that dream had soaked into his bed brought it all rushing back. Damn lewd demon just wouldn't quit.
She needed to at least change out of her sweaty clothes and get up, but as she propped up her upper body, the blanket slipped away—revealing her bare torso.
What the...? Why am I naked? Panicking, she yanked up the blanket. Shock: she was completely naked down there too.
Think. What happened yesterday?
More importantly—clothes. My clothes. My stuff's in the next room, but I can't bump into the Cafe Manager.
Dimly recalling the moments before sleep: the Cafe Manager had carried her to the room. She'd thanked him, dragged her utterly spent body to the bed. But crashing there in her filthy labyrinth gear felt gross, so she'd stripped roughly and tossed it aside, meaning to change—but fatigue won out, and she'd just wormed under the covers.
So where were the tossed clothes? Everything was spotless, dust and all. He'd cleaned up after she passed out.
Leading to this mess.
Standing buck-naked in a guy's room, fresh out of his bed, no change of clothes in sight.
Worse: the bed, drenched in her weird-dream sweat.
No angle made this look anything but her own pervy stunt. Karin broke out in a cold sweat for entirely different reasons.
And the Cafe Manager had killer senses for movement. He'd probably sensed her crash and come back to tidy.
Which meant he'd clocked her waking up by now.
Right on cue, footsteps climbed the stairs outside. Karin scrambled onto the bed and yanked the blanket to her neck.
By then, the sweat-soaked sheets had chilled—disgustingly cold—but she was in no position to complain.
Knock knock.
"You up?"
"Y-Yeah."
"Coming in?"
"Uh.... Y-Yeah."
Saying no might spark weird misunderstandings, so she let him in—then pulled the blanket to her nose.
...His scent mingled with her sweat stench.
Now hyper-aware, she froze in a trance, screaming internally. She nudged the blanket down a hair and peeked toward the opening door.
"Your color's improved."
"Slept like a rock. Feeling better. Ah, ha ha."
"Why so tense? Bad memories still bugging you?"
He drew close, laid a hand on her forehead—"No fever"—then dragged a chair from the desk and sat right beside her.
Karin's heart hammered wildly. She fought tooth and nail to erase the dream's naked Cafe Manager from her brain.
"N-No. F-Fine, totally f-fine."
"You're hiding something. Thought I heard you up and pacing earlier, so I checked—back in bed."
Insane instincts.
What kinda training turns you into this?
Guy was a gentleman, so no blanket-yanking. But asking for a hand? Her bare shoulder would spill everything. No relaxing.
"...Whatever. Hungry for anything?"
"Something tasty...."
"You scarf down anything tasty. Anything heavy or stomach-upsetting?"
Feels like I'll hurl from nerves.
Couldn't say it. "None." Her voice came out mosquito-thin.
He stared, incredulous, sighed once, gave her a quick scan, and said,
"You sweated buckets. Folks say sweating it out asleep helps when you're sick."
"Y-Yeah."
"Hang tight."
Handkerchief at the ready—he wiped her face, tossed it to her, stepped out briefly, returned with water and clothes.
Clothes? Why?
Busted?
"...What? Why the doomsday face."
"Th-The clothes."
"Sweaty? Change 'em."
Oh. Right.
Basic common sense. Karin clamped her mouth shut.
"Up. Drink."
"C-Can I handle it myself...?"
He eyed her and the bed suspiciously for a beat, face going subtle.
"Fine. Yourself it is."
"Yup."
"Jeez. Clothes on before you come down. Sleep naked if you want—but after waking? Cover up."
I'm screwed.
A curse she never uttered clawed up her throat. Face ashen, she stared at the door as he sauntered out and shut it. Then flopped face-down on the bed, yanking the blanket over her head.
Image irreparably trashed. The pillow's mix of their scents? Stirring something weird. All she could do was groan.
A bit recovered, she rose to change—spotted her crotch damp from the lewd dream, dove back under. Guilt hit: staining his bed. She dumped the blanket on the floor, lay ramrod straight, pillow over face only.
See me? Fine. Face covered. Good enough.
That day, Karin wanted nothing to do with people.
**
"Why'd she crawl back into bed?"
I'd caught on a tad late that she was fully naked and bailed the room. Going out naked felt off, sleeping that way too—and long-term in my place? Must get stuffy.
Lots of folks sleep nude for comfort. Fair enough.
Just... on my bed? Kinda awkward.
Ermina and I had our share of game-event shenanigans, but nothing like this. Karin? Straight-up adult-game vibes cropping up.
Sequel's gotta be 19+ or something.
Nah, no way.
Brought her clothes anyway, but getting caught buck-naked asleep? Mortified. Might not surface today.
Can't trek back up.
Pondered, then whipped up finger foods—easy eats. Nothing fancy; full place-setting while half-naked? Nah. Bed-munchies it was.
Oil in deep pan on heat. Thick potato slices. Ground sirloin, salt, pepper—mixed thorough for even seasoning.
Patty balled round, grilled oil-free. While searing, onion rings wilted soft, hit with balsamic.
Potatoes to hot oil. Chopped tomatoes, veggies prepped. Bread halved, butter-toasted.
Fries done quick—drained, spiced spicy for Cajun kick. Patty, veggies on bread: burger built. Twin toothpicks, halved handheld-style.
Hamburge set with sugared seltzer anti-choke, plated. Up to door, one knock, downstairs.
Food smells won out—rustling overhead. Had to grin.
Embarrassed or not, gotta eat.
Karin ghosted all day, but plates cleared steady. Tomorrow? Red-faced descent, bet on it.