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The gentle hum of cicadas fills the air as Utahime and Nanami make their way up the stone steps of the elegant hot spring inn, nestled in a quiet mountain village. The inn’s lantern-lit path winds through lush greenery, giving the place a secluded, almost mystical feel. This isn’t exactly the setting Utahime expected when they were told they’d be investigating a recent surge of curse energy in the area. The serene atmosphere contrasts sharply with the work they’re here to do, but it’s not like she could’ve turned down the only option in town.
The village had requested help, citing strange sightings and a pervasive, unsettling feeling at night. While neither she nor Nanami expected a real threat, it was enough to warrant an overnight stay. Even so, Utahime feels a mix of nervousness and anticipation that’s hard to shake. Sharing an inn suite with Nanami feels like a strange twist of fate she’s not sure how to handle.
As they reach the front desk, Utahime adjusts her bag on her shoulder, stealing a quick glance at Nanami. His face is as impassive as ever, his gaze focused forward, yet his quiet confidence radiates a steadying calm. The lantern light glints off his glasses, framing sharp, thoughtful eyes, and she catches herself staring just a second too long. She forces her gaze away, reminding herself to refocus on the job. Her fingers absently tuck a stray lock of her long, dark hair behind her ear—a habit she has when she’s feeling out of place.
The inn attendant greets them with a warm smile. “Welcome to our peaceful retreat! We’ve prepared one of our deluxe romantic suites for you both,” she says, her voice soft and reassuring. “Many couples find it perfect for relaxation.”
Utahime feels her cheeks heat up, and she stammers, “Oh—uh, we’re not… it’s not… we’re here for work…”
Nanami steps in smoothly, offering a polite nod. “Thank you. We’re here on an assignment, but we appreciate the accommodations.”
Following the attendant down the hallways, Utahime grows more flustered with each step, her mind spinning as she anticipates the “romantic” setup they’re about to encounter. She can only hope it won’t be as bad as she’s imagining.
Finally, the attendant slides open the door to reveal a gorgeous room with traditional shoji screens, tatami mats, and a picturesque view of the mountainside. Utahime’s eyes widen, her usually serious gaze softening in surprise as she takes in the spacious room. She’s always had an expressive face, one that gives away her every thought, and she has to school her features back to neutrality as she takes in the large king bed in the centre of the room, framed by soft lantern light. But as she stares, her heart sinks—she realises it’s two singles pushed together, covered by one oversized duvet.
“Oh… oh no,” she mutters, her voice barely audible as she processes the setup. She fidgets with her bag strap, glancing nervously between the beds, wondering how to address this without making it even more awkward.
Nanami, always calm, steps forward and places a reassuring hand on one of the bed frames. “It’s no problem,” he says evenly, breaking the silence with a collected ease that immediately soothes her nerves. “We’ll just separate them. Simple.”
With quiet efficiency, Nanami shifts one of the beds, creating a small, respectful gap. His movements are methodical, his long fingers adjusting the bed frame with a kind of precision that speaks to his meticulous nature. His every movement is steady, unhurried, as if this whole situation is merely another task to handle. When he finally steps back, there’s a soft warmth in his gaze, an unspoken assurance that grounds her.
Utahime blinks, feeling both relieved and slightly embarrassed for panicking over something so small. “Oh… right, of course. Yeah, that makes sense,” she says, her voice softening as she offers him a tentative smile. “Thank you, Nanami.”
With quiet efficiency, Nanami shifts one of the beds, creating a small, respectful gap. The gesture is simple, but his thoughtfulness puts her at ease in a way she hadn’t expected. Their eyes meet briefly, and for a moment, a quiet understanding settles between them.
“We’re here to work, after all,” Nanami says with a faint smile, his tone as steady as ever.
Utahime nods, feeling the tension in her shoulders ease. They settle into a comfortable silence, the small gap between the beds feeling like exactly the space they both need—for now.
After a few minutes of unpacking, Utahime finds herself glancing at the beds again, feeling oddly unsettled. The gap Nanami created is decent, but the room still feels undeniably close. She takes a deep breath, reminding herself they’re here for work, nothing more.
Nanami, meanwhile, is completely at ease, already slipping out of his jacket and straightening his bed covers with calm precision. His fair hair falls neatly, yet effortlessly, across his forehead as he smooths down the blankets, and his lean, broad-shouldered figure fills the small space in a way that feels almost reassuring. Watching his quiet focus somehow only makes her more aware of the awkwardness of the setup.
Determined to focus on work, she clears her throat. “So… this village really has been seeing a lot of curse energy?”
Nanami looks up, his expression thoughtful. “Yes, though it’s mostly residual. They described it as unsettling rather than dangerous. Still, we’ll investigate thoroughly.” His steady gaze almost makes her feel guilty for getting so flustered by the room arrangement.
She nods, shifting a little on her bed to test it, only to discover it’s surprisingly firm, almost uncomfortably so. Glancing over at Nanami’s bed, she notices it seems softer, somehow more inviting. She hesitates but eventually gives in to her curiosity.
“Is your side… alright?” she asks, trying to sound casual.
Nanami raises an eyebrow, clearly picking up on her discomfort. “It’s fine. Would you prefer to switch?”
“Oh, no, no,” she says quickly, waving her hands in protest. “I’m sure this one will be fine.”
A small, amused smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “We’re here to rest as well. It’s no trouble if you’d like to change sides.”
Utahime fidgets for a moment before finally relenting. “Okay… maybe we can try switching, just for tonight?”
They both stand and carefully swap sides, each moving their belongings. But as they adjust everything, the room somehow feels even smaller. Finally, when they both sit back down, Utahime breathes out, trying to relax. But as she leans back, a chill runs through her—her bed is now right next to the draughty window.
She shivers slightly, pulling her blanket close, and Nanami’s gaze flickers over to her. “Are you cold?” he asks, his tone polite, but there’s a glint of amusement in his eyes.
“No, no, I’m fine,” she insists, though she’s visibly shivering. “Really.”
Nanami lets out a quiet sigh and, without a word, stands up. He reaches over and shifts her bed a few inches away from the window, careful not to disturb the neat setup. His movements are calm and efficient, as though this whole situation isn’t awkward in the slightest.
“There,” he says, stepping back and offering a small nod of approval. “Better?”
Utahime hesitates, feeling a warm flush of gratitude mix with mild embarrassment. “Yes… Thank you. I, uh… guess this isn’t what I’m used to.”
They share a quick, understanding smile, and she’s about to settle back when she notices the angle of her bed now puts her closer to his, reducing the gap he’d so carefully created.
“Perhaps you’d prefer the original arrangement?” He offers, a hint of humour in his tone.
She huffs, rolling her eyes. “At this rate, I might as well just pick the floor,” she says, though the slight smile on her face softens her words.
Nanami chuckles softly, the sound warm and reassuring in the quiet room. “You’re welcome to as many changes as you like,” he says calmly, “but I think we’ve found a workable compromise.”
They share a small, amused look before Utahime stands up again, her expression reluctantly serious. “Alright, compromise beds or not, we should probably go check the village perimeter before calling it a night.”
Nanami nods, his expression already slipping into focus. “Agreed.”
With bags slung over their shoulders, they head out into the cool mountain night, their shared glance lingering just a moment longer than necessary.
Nanami and Utahime return to the inn under the cover of darkness, their footsteps soft on the lantern-lit path winding through the still gardens. The investigation had been uneventful—more of an atmospheric disturbance than anything dangerous—and, as Utahime yawns, she can’t help but think that a quiet night in might’ve been better than trudging around the misty outskirts of the village.
As they reach their room, she’s already picturing the comfort of finally lying down. However, the sight that greets them when they slide open the door stops them both in their tracks.
Their modest suite has transformed. The single beds they’d separated earlier now have company: two plush futons, meticulously laid out on either side of each bed. Freshly turned-down blankets, accompanied by a neat little flower arrangement on each pillow, create a scene so inviting it almost looks ceremonial.
Utahime stares, blinking. “Did… Did they bring us extra beds?”
Nanami, always calm, takes in the scene with a raised eyebrow. “It seems the turn-down service here is… thorough.”
Utahime lets out a nervous laugh, clasping her hands together as she surveys the setup. “Thorough? They doubled the beds! How many do they think we need?”
A folded card rests on the nightstand between the futons, propped up with a flourish. Nanami picks it up and reads aloud, “For your comfort, we’ve provided additional comfort arrangements, should you desire more options.”
He glances at Utahime, his mouth twitching with the slightest hint of amusement. “More options.”
“Options,” Utahime echoes, shaking her head in bewilderment. “Do they think we’re going to be… switching beds halfway through the night?”
Nanami replaces the card, shrugging. “Perhaps it’s part of the ‘romantic suite’ service.”
Her cheeks heat up again at the word “romantic,” and she clears her throat, suddenly parched. “Well, it’s… nice of them. Really nice,” she says, trying to sound appreciative rather than flustered.
The inn staff’s devotion to “comfort” has indeed gone above and beyond. The futons aren’t just thrown down; they’re decorated as if the couple staying here might need fresh bedding at any given moment. Each futon has a small dish of calming lavender beside it, filling the room with a subtle, relaxing scent that only adds to the ridiculous intimacy of the scene.
As Utahime hesitantly steps forward, she finds herself tripping over the edge of the nearest futon, her balance faltering. Nanami reaches out instinctively, steadying her with a hand on her arm. His hand is large, firm but gentle, and she feels the warmth of his touch through the fabric of her sleeve.
“You alright?” he asks, his voice calm but with that almost-hidden glint of amusement.
“Fine, fine,” she mumbles, cheeks warm as she stands up straight. The faintest dusting of pink colours her cheeks—a contrast against her usual calm, collected expression—and she tries to regain some semblance of dignity. She steps back, trying to survey the room as though this isn’t incredibly awkward. “This place is like a mattress maze.”
“Do you need more space?” he offers, his tone polite, though she can tell he’s suppressing a laugh.
“No, no, it’s fine,” she says, attempting to regain some semblance of dignity. “I mean, it’s just… so many beds?”
They settle into their respective beds—or at least, attempt to, since the surplus of futons around them makes it feel like they’re lying in the middle of a very cushy fortress. Utahime can’t help but feel like they’re the centrepieces in some elaborate hotel advertisement.
“Is this normal?” she wonders aloud, glancing at Nanami as she adjusts her blanket. “For an inn to add beds like this?”
Nanami shakes his head. “Not in my experience.”
She chuckles, the absurdity of the situation finally getting to her. “Imagine waking up and finding they’ve added even more. We’ll be swimming in futons by morning.”
Nanami glances around, his mouth finally twitching into a full smile. “I suppose we should appreciate the variety while we can.”
She laughs, fully this time, the sound echoing softly in the quiet room. “Next time, I’m checking if ‘deluxe suite’ means ‘too many beds.’”
Nanami lets out a soft chuckle, his voice a soothing, steady hum in the dim light.
They fall into a comfortable silence, and, after a moment, Utahime sighs, allowing herself to relax. The lavender scent fills the room, the soft blankets and warm lighting all merging to create a cocoon of calm that she’s nearly ready to drift off in.
But just as her eyes begin to close, a thought strikes her, and she turns her head towards Nanami. “You don’t think they’re going to come in again to ‘check on our comfort,’ do you?”
Nanami considers this, his brow furrowing in genuine thought. “It wouldn’t surprise me at this point. They do seem particularly… interested.”
A quiet laugh escapes her, and she curls under her blanket, feeling her nervousness finally melting into a gentle warmth. “How do you think they’ll react if they see we’re sleeping separately?” She pauses, grinning. “They’ll be horrified. Probably think they need to stage some sort of ‘relationship intervention’ before breakfast.”
Nanami raises an eyebrow, catching on. “We’ll show up for breakfast in the morning to find them waiting with pamphlets on ‘couple’s communication.’”
“Or worse,” she adds, muffling a laugh, “they’ll set up a whole futon circle and walk us through ‘how to rediscover intimacy.’”
His lips twitch with restrained amusement. “Therapeutic bed reconfiguration—innovative but thorough. They might just revolutionise hotel management.”
Utahime stifles another giggle into her blanket, barely managing a reply. “We’ll have to write them a glowing review—‘Left us with too many beds and mild trust issues, five stars.’”
Nanami lets out a soft chuckle, the sound warm and reassuring in the quiet room. “Perhaps it’s safer to sleep facing the door. In case they bring reinforcements.”
She’s fully laughing now, burying her face in her pillow to muffle the sound. “If we survive the night, I say we’ve earned breakfast in bed.”
Their laughter fades, leaving them surrounded by quiet again, but this time, the silence feels warmer, more like a shared secret. For the first time since arriving, Utahime feels completely at ease. As she closes her eyes, the thought lingers in her mind: maybe too many beds wasn’t such a bad problem to have after all.