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Hitori Gotou was stuck between a rock and a hard place.
The rock was named Ikuyo Kita.
The hard place was everything else.
A few days earlier, Kessoku Band had collectively agreed to take a short break from practice. Nijika, the ever-reliable band leader, had caught a nasty cold that left her sniffling, hoarse, and physically incapable of drumming without collapsing into a pathetic heap of tissues and apologies. Ryo had shrugged and said, “Guess I’ll hibernate,” before disappearing entirely, while Kita, bright as ever, declared that it was the perfect chance to enjoy Christmas properly.
Hitori, for once, had thought the break might mean peace.
She’d imagined herself curled up in her room with her guitar, scribbling half-finished lyrics, staring at chord sheets until her eyes crossed, maybe even making some actual progress without the crushing weight of the outside world. It was the perfect plan.
It died the moment her doorbell rang.
She opened the door in slow dread of facing her inevitable fate, only to be greeted by recently-made-girlfriend Kita Ikuyo in a soft beige sweater, her scarf loosely wrapped, cheeks pink from the cold, eyes sparkling like she was some sort of holiday decoration.
“Merry early Christmas!” Kita beamed. “I came to keep you company!”
Hitori’s brain exploded.
That was how the day spiraled out of her control.
Lunch had been a disaster—Hitori’s mother, smiling far too warmly, had casually remarked on how “cute” Hitori’s first love was, while Kita nearly choked on her food in flustered delight. Futari had been even worse, boldly asking—at full volume—how far the two of them had gone, prompting Hitori to curl into herself like a dying pill bug.
How is she even aware of such things?
Kita, bless her heart, had laughed nervously and said something about “holding hands,” while Hitori mumbled incoherently and prayed for spontaneous invisibility.
And then came the worst part—karaoke.
They were now an hour deep into Kita’s Christmas playlist, which somehow included every Japanese holiday song ever written, three tracks from popular idols, songs from movies Kita admitted she hadn’t seen, and inexplicably, English Christmas songs she insisted on attempting despite not being very good at the language.
“I DON’T WANT A LOT FOR CHRISTMAS—♪” Kita sang brightly, stumbling over the lyrics but powering through with unshakeable confidence.
Hitori’s soul screamed.
After a seemingly endless night of nonstop festive singing, Hitori felt like she was dissolving under what could only be described as Christmas-enhanced Kita aura. It was overwhelming, radiant, and specifically lethal to introverted people like her.
Hitori didn’t know if she could last. It wasn’t that she hated Kita—on the contrary, it was the complete opposite—but she was very bright, too bright for any ordinary person to be.
That was the problem.
She wanted to leave, to excuse herself from the sickeningly shiny aura Kita exhibited—but on the other hand, she wanted to be with Kita, because Kita was beautiful, pretty, wonderful, kind, lovely, entrancing—
It was a miracle they were even dating in the first place.
“Come on, Hitori-chan!” Kita said, turning around joyfully. “Are you even listening?”
“Huh—! A-Ah—” Hitori jolted upright. “S-Sorry!”
“You’re already tuning out?” Kita pouted playfully. “We’re only halfway through the playlist!”
Hitori let out a quiet groan.
Was this what dating was supposed to be?
She had been so relieved—so stunned—when Kita had accepted her messy, stutter-filled confession weeks ago. She hadn’t even thought past that moment. Dating just sort of… happened. They went out, practiced together, laughed like they always had.
But nothing had really changed.
Perhaps that was intentional. Kita had never pushed her. Never demanded more. Never even hinted at wanting anything Hitori might not be ready for. She was gentle in a way that made Hitori feel both grateful and strangely frustrated.
Why shouldn’t we do more? she thought, cheeks heating. Does she not want to?
But more than anything, Hitori didn’t think she could take anymore karaoke tonight.
“LAST CHRISTMA—” Kita began.
That was it.
Having reached the end of what she could handle, and before she could think better of her actions, Hitori pulled Kita by the hem of her sweater and captured her lips in a soft kiss. Kita froze for half a second at the touch, eyes wide, then melted, smiling faintly into the kiss as she returned it.
It wasn’t their first kiss. Nor was it their second. But it was the first that Hitori initiated. Why did she decide to kiss Kita? Because Kita just looked so kissable.
When they finally pulled apart, Kita was breathing softly, her hands resting on Hitori’s shoulders.
“Hitori-chan,” she murmured, gazing up at her lovingly. “What’s wrong?”
“N-no more karaoke,” Hitori said, her eyes narrowed in comical seriousness. “Please?”
Kita laughed softly. “I thought you were having fun.”
“I-I am!” Hitori insisted quickly. “I l-like watching you sing! B-but… not for this long…”
Kita tilted her head slyly. “Then what would you like to do instead?”
Hitori hesitated, cheeks burning. “…I want to k-kiss you,” she whispered. “We’re d-dating, but… we hardly kiss.”
“Ah,” Kita smiled knowingly. “Is that what you’ve been thinking about, Hitori-chan?”
Hitori nodded, shrinking a little. “Y-yes. Sorry.”
Kita shook her head gently. “Don’t apologize. I understand.”
She reached up, pulling Hitori down into another kiss—this one deeper and slower. Hitori’s breath hitched as she responded, hands trembling as they slid into Kita’s hair.
“Kita-chan…” Hitori pressed her face closer, reaching inside Kita’s mouth. “Mhm…”
Their tongues brushed tentatively at first, then with more confidence. They kissed again and again, soft sounds filling the quiet room. Hitori felt dizzy, her nerves dissolving into warmth as Kita kissed her back just as eagerly.
They shifted without realizing it, ending up on the bed, tangled together. Hitori hovered over Kita, her heart racing as she kissed her once more—longer this time.
When she finally pulled back, Kita was flushed, eyes shining, her clothes disheveled—dangerously so.
Hitori swallowed. Before she could hesitate, she leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Kita’s collarbone.
“Hitori-chan…!” Kita gasped.
The sound startled them both. Kita covered her mouth, her face turning a bright red. Hitori promptly backed away, realizing where she was heading.
“I—I’m sorry—! Are you okay?”
“Y-yes,” Kita laughed softly, looking embarrassed. “Haha… I guess we’re not ready to go further than this, huh?”
Hitori’s shoulders slumped. “I ruined the moment…”
“No, you didn’t. It was nice,” Kita replied gently. “And I was a little scared, too.”
They shared a quiet smile.
“Um… w-would you like some h-hot chocolate?” Hitori asked. “O-or something?”
Kita smiled. “That sounds perfect.”
They straightened their clothes and headed to the kitchen together, hands brushing as they walked.
Hitori couldn’t help but glance at Kita’s collarbone, where her hickey still lingered. A silent part of her mind still wanted more, but for now—only now—she was content to be innocent a little while longer.