Chapter 13
“So this is confession practice?”
Tarmin moved so close that Enya finally got up from her chair and fled.
Enya backed away awkwardly, leaned against the table, and answered.
“Yeah.”
Though she wore a carefree smile as if nothing bothered her, her arms were raised defensively in front of her chest.
“Taal, do whatever you want.”
“Whatever I…”
At the belatedly added caveat, the corner of Tarmin’s eye twitched.
He shuddered at her brazen audacity.
Whatever he wanted?
Enya, you little…
She’d started this, yet a single remark had made him the culprit.
In an instant, he’d become a guy using his friend to practice confessing to his lover. It made his head spin.
She’d given herself a pass because she used to be a man, while denying Tarmin the same leniency.
She was justifying it by saying she was doing this because Tarmin wanted it.
He could say he didn’t want anything and they shouldn’t do it, but his pride wouldn’t allow that.
He wasn’t used to thinking of himself as manly, either.
That was how it had been since they were children.
Whenever he butted heads with Enya, his pride would flare up and, strangely, he’d get completely caught up in it.
Usually, it ended with Tarmin, who was just an ordinary guy, losing.
Tarmin twisted his lips into a forced, nonchalant smile.
“Yeah, thanks. I guess I’m the only one who can practice this with you.”
Whether because it was a question of whether this could actually happen, or of enduring the embarrassment.
“You’re welcome. Be grateful.”
Somehow understanding it that way, Enya started looking a little smug again.
He stopped indulging her and stepped closer.
This time, he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her in so she couldn’t run away.
Pulled close enough to be held in Tarmin’s arms, Enya made a flustered sound.
“Uh, wh-what? Ah?”
When he wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her from escaping, a shrill squeal rang out.
“Eek!”
“Tell me if you can’t take it. I’ll stop right away.”
Tarmin, too, had added his own caveat to this ‘confession practice.’
He had his pride; he wasn’t about to be the first to back down.
He’d make her surrender, no matter what.
Until Tarmin got what he wanted—or until Enya surrendered.
An absurd contest had begun, one that would continue until one of them gave up.
“Ugh…”
Unable to escape with his arm around her waist, Enya fidgeted and let out a small groan.
Her slender, soft waist felt so narrow through her clothes that he could probably encircle it with one arm. Tarmin, too, was briefly at a loss for words.
Suppressing the urge to lose his composure, he looked down at her as if nothing were wrong and asked.
“What’s wrong, Enya? Is it already too much?”
Enya hesitated, then looked at Tarmin with a worried expression.
“Um, Taal… weren’t you, by any chance, nervous around women?”
Tarmin flashed an exaggerated grin.
“I never said I was.”
Enya flinched as if she’d been cut by a blade, but his strong left arm held her fast, leaving her unable to sink down or run away.
She seemed to realize she was like a parrot that had flown into a cage.
Maybe it would end in an easy victory for Tarmin.
Enya trembled like a small animal and said weakly,
“Th-then. Doesn’t that mean you don’t need confession practice?”
“Is that so? Do you want me to stop?”
Unable to hide his triumphant expression as he asked, Tarmin watched Enya narrow her eyes and glare at him.
Seeing that frustrated expression, Tarmin thought, Oops, but Enya seemed to have gotten stubborn already.
The unyielding resolve of a hero he’d seen countless times over the years they’d spent together.
Even as a woman, that scowl of hers, so loath to lose, was unchanged.
“No? You said we’d do whatever I wanted, didn’t you?”
Tarmin wanted to clutch his throbbing head, but couldn’t do anything while awkwardly holding Enya.
He shut his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and thought.
The truth was, he was so embarrassed right now that he wanted to roll around on the floor.
For some reason, the left arm around Enya’s waist itched; he wanted to scratch it raw.
He wanted to go deep into some deserted hunting ground and scream.
Should he just let her win?
Usually, everything went peacefully if Tarmin admitted defeat and let it go.
He’d always been the one to give in, so another loss would just be one more on the pile. It was nothing.
But when Tarmin opened his eyes again, there was a fire in them, too.
“Then let’s do it. Practice.”
“Bring it on.”
Before launching his attack, Tarmin considered his strategy.
Enya had boldly provoked him, asking if he wanted to touch her breasts.
Honestly, he wanted to touch them.
He wanted to reach out casually, acting cheerful and carefree.
He wanted to feel what they were like.
He wanted to tease her boldly, leaning on the fact that she’d given him permission.
Though Sigona was exceptionally well-endowed, Enya’s breasts were by no means small, either.
But that would amount to admitting he was a pathetic virgin.
What if he put his trembling hand on her with his clumsy technique and his friend laughed at him?
He’d have to kick Sigona out of the cage in their hideout and take her place, unable to come out for a year.
He recalled something the handsome prince had once said.
Wasn’t atmosphere important for winning a woman’s heart?
All you had to do was react enthusiastically to what she said, compliment her, and act amazed as if you’d never heard it before.
It was sad that the prince was the only person he could trust, but for now, he had no choice but to try what he’d said.
**
A little later, Enya was regretting what she’d said.
“Then, Enya.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m always grateful to you.”
“…Ngh!”
A voice whispered in her ear as she was held in his arms.
What Tarmin had chosen was compliments.
The moment she heard his first words, Enya thought she’d rather spend months wandering through the abyssal labyrinth again, where not a ray of sunlight reached.
The days in that labyrinth, when she had to walk endlessly, relying on the witch’s magical lights as they flickered over the obsidian cave, barely able to see a few meters ahead.
This was harder to bear than the darkness of that labyrinth.
“Enya.”
“…Why?”
“You know you’re prettier than Sigona, right?”
“…Hngh.”
She knew it was practice,
and she knew Taal had always been good at saying embarrassing things,
but she wasn’t falling in love or anything; just hearing it was still a considerable shock.
“Enya.”
“…”
“Your hair is the color of a sunset.”
“…”
Embarrassing compliments continued after that.
Things like how her ominous red eyes sparkled beautifully, or how smooth her skin was.
With every compliment, her body went limp against her will.
She was already being held around the waist, and if she relaxed even a little, their bodies would press together completely.
More than anything, what confused her was Taal’s scent.
The smell of a living person, which she’d sensed before.
The scent of a man.
She gave her dizzy head a little shake to clear it.
He’d called it confession practice, but she hadn’t expected him to heap on nothing but suggestive compliments.
But she couldn’t give up.
This practice was something Taal needed.
She was only responding to that need.
To win, she had to start by doing something about the way he kept saying her name, Enya, and whispering it directly in her ear.
“That’s forbidden.”
“Huh? What?”
“Calling me Enya is forbidden. This is practice for Sigona, isn’t it?”
“Was it?”
“Yeah. So call me Sigona instead.”
Seeing Taal’s expression dawn with realization, she let out a sigh of relief.
At least she thought she could endure it somehow, as long as he didn’t call her Enya.
Taal grunted and pondered, then his eyes lit up as he said,
“Then if you’re playing Sigona, shouldn’t you call me big brother?”
What was that supposed to mean?
Enya asked in alarm.
“Don’t lie. I’m not your little sister, so why would I call you that? Even if you want to win that badly.”
“Well, you’re younger than us, and we grew up together. There’s a lot of history.”
“But I’ve never seen Sigona call you that.”
“She only calls me big brother when it’s just the two of us. Didn’t know that, did you?”
Tarmin wore a delighted smile, as if he’d landed a solid blow.
She’d heard they’d been dating for eight years, but she hadn’t realized they were that close.
Even if he’d made it up, Enya had no way to find out now.
So did she have to call her childhood friend big brother just to avoid losing a simple contest? Not even her actual brother?
She hesitated for a moment.
“What? Can’t do it? Want to stop?”
But she couldn’t stand watching Tarmin act smug.
Enya moved her lips, relying on her rising stubbornness.
“…Big Brother Taal.”
“Ghk.”
Called big brother out of the blue, Tarmin looked caught off guard, too.
“What is it? Not used to being called big brother? You were lying after all, weren’t you?”
"As if.”
“Really? Then what would you like to do next?”
Her attitude was basically: You don’t actually care whether I call you big brother or not; you just want to hear me call you that, don’t you, Tarmin?
Once she thought of it that way, her earlier embarrassment vanished, and she even started to find it fun.
The feeling of completing one challenge at a time was somehow like going on an adventure.
All right, what’s next?
She smiled at Taal, who was desperately thinking, and asked,
“Well, Big Brother Taal? Is there anything else?”
**
Tarmin groaned.
“Grrk…”
No matter how much he complimented Sigona to Enya, he wasn’t going to make her surrender.
She’d endured the mortifying compliments.
She’d carried out the instruction to call him big brother without a hitch.
Seeing Tarmin’s deeply defeated face, Enya prepared to laugh at him.
But the next card Tarmin played was far more underhanded than Enya had expected.
Tarmin released his hold on Enya and returned to his chair.
Then he spoke carefully.
“Um, Sigona, when it’s just the two of us…
Freed from his hold, Enya rubbed the area around her waist where his arm had been and looked at Tarmin.
…likes sitting on my lap.”
It took her quite a while to understand what he meant.
Enya’s face flushed as she immediately protested.
“Taal, you lunatic! Even if you want to win that badly!”
“It’s true.”
“Calling you big brother was a lie, too, wasn’t it?”
“Want to stop if you don’t like it?”
“…Ugh.”
Such was the unyielding spirit of a hero.
Enya’s eyes seemed to burn with a fierce blue flame.
“…You, when Sigona comes back. If, if that’s a lie, if there’s even the slightest bit of falsehood…”
She was biting her lip hard enough to draw blood.
Tarmin flinched at her menacing air.
He was going to die.
He shouldn’t have said it, not even as a joke.
Enya, eyes blazing, came over beside the seated Tarmin and ordered,
“Put your knees together.”
“Uh, wait, Enya? Now that I think about it, maybe it was someone else who liked…”
“Put your knees together.”
“Enya, wait, I’m satisfied. That’s enough practice.”
Enya simply glared at Tarmin without saying another word.
When Tarmin quietly pressed his knees together, Enya took a small, deep breath.
She was embarrassed, of course, and her face was red, but she turned and leaned down to sit on Tarmin’s lap.
Tarmin prepared himself to accept his fate, apologizing in advance to Sigona, who would be asked an embarrassing question.
Before that, would he even be able to keep his composure once Enya climbed onto his lap?
Did God exist?
-Knock, knock
At that moment, someone knocked on the cabin door.