Chapter 20: A Mistake.

“Shhhhk—”

The old, unlockable sliding door yanked open from outside without warning.

Shock surged like ice current up Hoshiya Kaoru’s spine—muscles locked rigid in an instant.

He whipped around to face the door, heart pounding chaos.

Framed in the doorway: Kawasaki Rika’s tall, imposing silhouette nearly filling it.

Backlit by the izakaya’s warm amber glow, her face shadowed in reverse light—only a sharp, powerful outline.

Warehouse dim: faint kitchen spill through high vent. Her body blocked most, light squeezing past her sculpted curves—fuzzy gold halos on shoulders, arms, thighs.

Stray beams cut dusty air, pillars spotlighting Kaoru—hand clutching yukata over vitals, skin stark pale in gloom.

“Ah…”

A choked, throat-deep hum escaped—pure panic and fluster.

Cheeks, ears, neck scorched crimson the moment “seen” registered. Heat raced to collarbones; bared skin flushed vivid.

Every exposed inch prickled—pores contracting under cool air and shame.

Rika—realizing someone changing—meant to slam shut.

But her hand froze on the frame, as if the light door now weighed tons.

Gray-black eyes adjusted; pupils dilated subtly.

Gaze magnet-pulled to the sudden dazzling jade-white expanse…

Dim light etched his gently heaving chest, narrow waist.

Usually clothed lean, supple frame—now fragile luminous under intruder eyes and shadows.

Cool-jade skin, smooth taut, faint healthy pink—like white jade blushing.

Shoulders straight but not broad, swan-neck elegant; Adam’s apple perfect subtle ridge, youthful edge.

Collarbones: world’s graceful arc—deep dips, fragile contours pooling soft shadow, light’s playground.

Hips rounded firm, thighs long even, slim muscle over bone.

Calves sleek, tapering to delicate ankles.

Time stretched, froze.

Warehouse clutter cast silent hulking shadows; air thick with grain, soy, old wood.

Five full seconds—

Kaoru broke first from shock-shame paralysis.

Carefully unfurled crumpled navy yukata wider, shielding more.

Deep breath, voice trembling despite efforts:

“Um… Miss Kawasaki, I’m changing. Could you… close the door…?”

Lashes fluttered fast, pleading embarrassment at backlit figure.

Rika snapped awake—like dream-broken.

“Slam!”—yanked door shut hard, sealing worlds.

Action drained her; back to door, chest rising quick, panting softly.

In sudden dark quiet, Kaoru’s shoulders sagged—huge exhale.

Facing such towering, oppressive woman unguarded—heart raced, vulnerability stark.

No delay: slipped into yukata, breathed to cool lingering heat, then slid door open.

Stepping out: Rika still there, leaning wall by door.

Breath steadying; head turned at sound.

[Why’s Miss Kawasaki still here…]

Brief eye contact with gray-black—awkward after fiasco.

“Um…”

Lips dry, about to force words to ease freeze—

Rika spoke first, voice huskier.

“I was watching the door… so no one else opens. And… sorry about before…”

Face stoic, but red ears betrayed turmoil.

“Oh…”

Kaoru’s pretty brows arched—amused somehow.

Swallowed laugh:

“Thanks then. My fault too—careless. Let’s… pretend it never happened.”

Her heart squeezed at his radiant smile—skipped a beat.

Strange panic; eyes dropped fast, thick lashes hiding, fleeing his clean gentle gaze.

“Right, work for me. You change, Miss Kawasaki.”

“Heading up front,”

Atmosphere odd; he shifted topic. Spotted her clutching tank/shorts—guessed she needed to change, unaware he was inside.

“You go in—no interruptions now.”

He passed—faint breeze, his light clean scent…