Handmade

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“Phew!”

Chinami flopped onto the bed, and a spirited yet somehow troubled exclamation burst from her lips.

Draped in a blanket emblazoned with a large picture of Momo-sama, she thought back over what had happened on the way to the parking lot.

[Because you're cute.]

[You're cute.]

[I told you, you're cute.]

Matsuda, her junior, had looked down at her from his tall frame, smiling like a gentleman as he complimented her.

His rich, low voice, so striking to her ears, would not leave her mind.

She also remembered how his large hand, big enough to wrap around her wrist and then some, had caught her as she was about to fall...