A Careless Angel

Mahiru's behavior was very different around people she was close to

compared with how she was around strangers.

Only people who knew her well could see that.

She wasn't cold to people that she didn't know very well, and in fact she

treated most everyone amicably and politely. But although she was friendly

on the surface, underneath she was highly cautious and never showed the

slightest opening to anyone. It was as though she erected a wall so that no

one could get close to her and learn the truth.

On the other hand, once she opened up to someone, she became

extremely generous toward them, fawning over them and availing herself of

their kindness. That was the Mahiru that people got to know once they

became close to her.

Basically, she was never on guard around her friends, and she showed

them her sweet side once she trusted them. It made her vulnerable, in a way

that some people would describe as careless.

For example, once Mahiru got used to someone, she had no problem

getting physically close to them.

"…This model is about the same height as you, Amane, so it's easy to

imagine what you would look like in these clothes, isn't it?"

When she had first been getting to know Amane, she had left space

between them on the sofa as a matter of course. It would have been

unthinkable to sit so close that they could touch.

So much for that.

Now Mahiru took a seat beside Amane where he sat on the sofa and

seemed truly relaxed as she peeked over at the fashion magazine that he

was reading.

She almost melted into him, as if she didn't have the slightest concern

that he might do anything.

This brought with it a host of problems.

Amane was holding an ordinary fashion magazine, so there wasn't any

particular problem with her reading it. But since they were looking at the

magazine together, it was inevitable that she would bring her body close to

his and lean against his arm.

He knew that she wasn't doing it on purpose, but from time to time,

something soft and squishy would assert itself against his arm and make

things difficult.

Its owner didn't seem to have the slightest idea that it was touching him,

as she looked up at him bashfully and pointed at the male model, saying, "I

bet these clothes would look good on you, Amane."

He found himself having to bite sharply down on the inside of his cheek

to bear it each time.

Even though he didn't consider himself to be someone with overly

strong desires in that department, the situation was shaving away at his

willpower.

…I wish she would be a little more vigilant about certain things.

Even if Mahiru was more self-aware, Amane knew that she wouldn't

treat him with suspicion, but still, he wondered if she couldn't stand to be

just a little more guarded.

The way she didn't worry about him at all made him wonder if she even

saw him as a man.

"…Amane, there's obviously something on your mind. Is something the

matter?"

Mahiru tilted her head in puzzlement, not the least bit aware that she

herself was the cause of his vexation, so Amane caught himself before he

could say, "Whose fault do you think that is…?" and tried to evade the

question.

"It's nothing, really," he answered.

His voice was especially curt, even for him. By the time he realized it,

Mahiru had cast her eyes downward dejectedly.

"W-wait, I'm not mad or anything!" He stroked her head in a panic,

rushing to soothe her. "I was just thinking about something…"

"…Are you sure?"

He reassured her as he gently stroked her head, and the look in Mahiru's

eyes softened in relief. Amane also felt relieved as he enjoyed the softness

of her hair, running his hands through it carefully.

He had only realized it recently, but Mahiru seemed to like having her

head stroked.

Really, he knew that it wasn't appropriate for him to thoughtlessly lay

hands on a girl he wasn't actually dating and that girls didn't like it when

boys they weren't attracted to touched their hair. But Mahiru always seemed

quite pleased by it and showed no resistance, so against his better judgment,

he allowed himself to touch her.

He figured it was a good thing, since she would have stopped him if she

disliked it.

He also knew that she let her guard down because she trusted him.

…She really lets me get away with a lot.

Mahiru was always naive around Amane, and she never stopped him

from touching her.

In fact, she seemed delighted by physical contact with him and

sometimes practically encouraged him to touch her.

If she's not a little more cautious, I might just lose control.

He had a feeling he might come on too strong one day if she kept being

so careless. Of course, he didn't want to force himself on her or make her

hate him, and that logic always won out, but he felt that his willpower was

gradually being worn away, and he feared the day when he would give

himself over to his urges might be coming.

Even though he didn't want to hurt her, Amane worried that his male

instincts might overwhelm the warnings from his rational mind and he

might find himself grabbing at her.

He wanted to cherish her and to keep her happy. Making her cry was out

of the question.

Even though he understood that, from time to time, the impulse to take

hold of Mahiru reared its ugly head. To embrace her soft body, and run his

hands over her smooth skin, and taste her little lips to his heart's content.

Many times, he had wallowed in self-loathing for succumbing to

ridiculous fantasies. Every time, he scolded and scorned himself for his

rudeness and his betrayal of Mahiru's trust in him.

Rightfully, it should have been Amane maintaining the distance between

them so that nothing like that could possibly happen, but—

"…It's impossible, at this point."

"What is?"

Mahiru asked him a question in return, still wearing a soft, buoyant

expression.

Amane averted his eyes a little and replied, "Nothing."

He loved Mahiru far too much now to ever think of parting from her, so

he pretended not to hear the faint alarm bells ringing in his head and stroked

Mahiru's hair again.