Sho plopped down on the edge of the bed with a mischievous grin playing on his lips. His eyes flicked to Makoto, who had just flicked off the switch, plunging the small room into a dim shadow lit only by the dull moonlight spilling through the crooked blinds.
"Oi... you're really just going to sleep like that?" Sho teased, voice low and laced with that usual, boyish playfulness.
Makoto was already curled under the rough blanket on the other bed. Her back was to him, but he could see the way her shoulders twitched at his tone. She muttered something incoherent and pulled the blanket tighter over her head.
Sho chuckled and leaned back on his hands, eyes half-lidded as he watched her bundle herself up like a shy turtle. "Y'know... it would've been really great if we could sleep together tonight. Might've given me some extra... motivation for the race tomorrow."
"SHO!" Makoto shot up from under the blanket, her face completely flushed even in the shadows. "You're unbelievable! This is serious! There's going to be a life-or-death battle in the morning and you're thinking about that?!"
"Exactly why it's the perfect time," he shot back without missing a beat. "Could be our last night alive. Gotta make it count."
Makoto huffed and yanked the blanket tighter again, turning away with a loud grumble. "Shut up, you perv. Why are you always like this? Horny in every dimension..."
Sho flopped fully onto his bed now, hands behind his head, still grinning up at the ceiling. His long hair fanned out behind him like a lion's mane. "Because you're really beautiful... and I love you."
Her breath caught. It always did when he said it so bluntly.
"B-Baka..."
"And you were supposed to come to my place, remember? Before this whole mess sucked us back here." Sho stretched with an exaggerated sigh. "All I wanted was one quiet night with you. Just one. Alone. On my bed. Maybe with candles. Maybe with you in that black pajama thing I like..."
Makoto let out an embarrassed squeal. "I'm going to kill you!"
"Worth it."
Silence fell between them after that. Sho rolled over onto his side, facing her direction though his eyes were shut. "Just sayin', if you're not gonna come over here, I'm gonna get real cold. And lonely. And sad. Might not even perform well tomorrow. Who knows."
Makoto didn't answer.
She stayed under her blanket for several more minutes, body stiff, heart racing. The heat in her cheeks wouldn't go away. She could still feel the memory of his kiss earlier, still taste it on her lips like it had seared itself into her senses. She swallowed hard, then peeked over the edge of her blanket.
Sho was still lying there. Not moving. Breathing softly. Maybe asleep.
Makoto sat up slowly, biting her lip. She glanced around nervously, as if the cracked walls or busted furniture would judge her. Then, quietly, she slid her legs off her bed, tiptoeing on the wooden floor as if it would scream if she stepped wrong.
She made it to his bed. She hovered for a moment, heart thudding in her chest. He looked so peaceful. So... relaxed.
Maybe she could just...
She gently slipped under his blanket, trying not to disturb him, her movements slow and tentative. The warmth of his bed immediately embraced her. The scent of him hit her like a wave—earthy, familiar, dizzying.
She froze.
Then—
An arm shot out and wrapped tightly around her waist.
Makoto yelped, muffled into the pillow.
Sho chuckled darkly right into her ear. "Caught you."
"Y-You were awake?!"
"Of course I was," he whispered, tugging her flush against his chest. "You really thought you could sneak into my bed without me noticing? I've been waiting."
Makoto squirmed slightly, but he held her firm. One of his hands pressed into the curve of her lower back, keeping her in place, while his lips brushed lightly against the shell of her ear. "So... you do want to sleep with me."
"Not like that!" she whispered sharply, her face on fire. "I just... I didn't want you to be alone before the race. That's all."
"Mmm... that's very thoughtful," he murmured, lips now dangerously close to her neck. "But you know me, Makoto. I always overthink your kindness."
"You better not," she warned weakly, though she wasn't pulling away.
Sho exhaled against her neck, a warm, teasing breath that made her shiver. "I'll behave. Promise. Unless you don't want me to."
She buried her face into his chest, trying to hide her blushing expression. Her hand clutched the fabric of his shirt like it was her only anchor.
"Geez... you really are impossible."
He smiled. "But you like impossible."
She didn't respond this time. Instead, she settled closer against him, letting her body mold into his. After a long moment of quiet, she whispered, almost inaudibly:
"I love you too... idiot."
Sho's eyes fluttered shut. His hold around her tightened slightly.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Makoto's voice had been barely audible, almost like she hadn't meant to say it out loud. But he'd heard. And it had landed with the weight of something far more important than all his playful teasing. Sho's smile faltered into something softer—gentler—as he slowly pulled back just enough to look at her.
"Say it again," he whispered.
Makoto's eyes widened in the moonlight, her pupils shimmering like glass. "W-What?"
Sho's fingers came up to brush a lock of hair from her face. "Say it again," he repeated, voice low and quiet. "Please."
Her lips parted, trembling. "I-I said it once."
"And once was perfect," he murmured. "But... hearing you say it, Mako… it's like I can finally breathe again. Like all the noise in my head just... stops."
She looked at him, stunned.
Sho wasn't smiling anymore. His expression was naked—raw. The way he gazed at her made her stomach twist in knots. No playful mask, no cocky grin. Just Sho.
Real.
Vulnerable.
"I'm scared, you know," he admitted, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. "About tomorrow. About not waking up. About losing you. Losing... this."
Makoto stared at him for a long second, then leaned forward, pressing her forehead gently to his.
"You're not allowed to die," she whispered fiercely.
His breath stuttered.
"You think I'd let you?" she continued, voice firm despite its softness. "Sho, I don't care what world we're in, or what twisted dimension throws monsters at us—you're mine. Got it?"
A pause.
Then he chuckled. "Yes, ma'am."
Makoto pulled back just enough to see his grin return—smaller, more genuine this time. She was about to say something else when his hands found her waist again, sliding slowly, reverently, over her hips.
She twitched. "H-Hey…"
"What?" he teased, nuzzling the crook of her neck. "You're the one who climbed into my bed. Just keeping you warm."
"Warm… my ass," she muttered, face flushing deeper.
Sho nipped playfully at her ear. "I could warm that too if you want."
"Sho!"
He laughed into her skin. "Sorry, sorry. Couldn't help it. You just make it too easy."
Makoto groaned into his chest. "I swear, you say one more stupid line and I'm sleeping on the floor."
"You won't," he said confidently, sliding one leg around hers beneath the blanket. "You're too comfortable now."
"…Maybe," she grumbled.
Sho pressed a kiss to her shoulder, letting his lips linger. "You smell like rain."
Makoto blinked. "Huh?"
"Always do," he murmured. "That fresh, clean kind. It's soothing."
She was quiet for a moment. Then, softly, "You always smell like... fire."
He smiled against her skin. "Guess we balance each other out, huh?"
Slowly, his hands began to explore again—not lewdly, not yet, but with intent. His fingers traced along the curve of her waist, over the dip of her spine, gliding under the edge of her shirt like he was memorizing the shape of her.
Makoto's breath hitched. "Sho…"
"I won't push," he whispered. "Not unless you want me to."
"…What if I do?" she asked, voice almost too soft to hear.
Sho froze.
He pulled back again, searching her face. "Makoto…"
Her cheeks were flushed, her lips parted just slightly, eyes wide and vulnerable—but steady. "I want... to feel you," she said. "Really feel you. Just for tonight. I don't want to spend it afraid."
He swallowed hard.
"Are you sure?"
She nodded. "If tomorrow goes to hell… I don't want to regret not holding you. Not loving you."
Sho's eyes shimmered. He leaned forward, cupping her cheek, and kissed her—slowly this time, like he was pouring everything into it. All his love. All his fear. All his need.
Makoto responded tentatively at first, but then melted into him, her fingers fisting his shirt, pulling him closer. His lips moved with hers, tasting, exploring, devouring her slowly. He shifted their bodies carefully, rolling them so she was lying beneath him, but still wrapped tightly in his arms, protected.
"I'll stop whenever you tell me to," he said, brushing a kiss down her jaw.
She nodded again, breathless. "I'll tell you if I need to."
Sho started small.
He kissed along her neck, her collarbone, dragging his lips over the tender curve of her throat until he felt her shiver. His hands roamed gently, running under her shirt, over her ribs. He pushed it up slowly, glancing up at her.
She gave him a tiny nod.
He lifted her shirt carefully, pulling it over her head and setting it aside. Moonlight caught the soft curves of her body, casting her in silver and shadow. Sho paused, eyes drinking her in like she was a miracle.
"God, you're beautiful," he whispered.
Makoto covered her face. "Don't say that..."
"I mean it."
He kissed her again, this time more hungrily, hands moving over her with a reverence that made her tremble. Each brush of his fingers, each kiss trailing down her chest, felt like fire licking along her skin. He was patient, attentive, touching her like she was something precious—not just wanted, but adored.
Her back arched as his mouth explored lower, and a soft moan slipped from her lips before she could catch it. She slapped a hand over her mouth, horrified.
Sho paused, grinning. "Don't hide that from me."
"It's embarrassing," she mumbled.
"It's perfect," he murmured, nuzzling her stomach. "You're perfect."
His hands reached her waistband.
Her breath caught.
He looked up, eyes asking.
She hesitated for only a second, then nodded once more.
Slowly, carefully, he peeled away the last of her clothes, revealing her fully. She trembled under his gaze, arms twitching as if she wanted to cover herself.
He didn't let her.
Instead, he kissed her knees, her thighs, her hips, whispering soft nothings as he moved—building trust, building heat. His lips found the softest parts of her, and he took his time learning every inch of her body, every place that made her gasp, flinch, arch.
Makoto was dizzy with sensation, heart pounding out of her chest, hands buried in his hair.
When Sho finally pulled himself up to kiss her again, their breaths were ragged, their bodies flushed. He was burning up, holding himself back with every ounce of willpower.
"Still okay?" he asked, voice hoarse.
Makoto looked into his eyes.
She reached up and pulled his shirt over his head, running her fingers down his bare chest, memorizing the scars, the muscle, the heartbeat beneath. Then she nodded.
"Take me," she whispered. "Make me yours."
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END OF CHAPTER : 5 : THE NIGHT BEFORE THE RACE! : 1
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