Hikigaya's Inner World of Spring

Faced with Miura's bold initiative, Hachiman's first instinct was, naturally, to refuse.

But Miura was way too fired up—far too proactive.

She yanked him in with a strength that completely defied what any ordinary girl should have.

There was a kind of electric tension in the air, hormones flaring between boy and girl alike.

And before they even realized it—

Another half hour had passed.

Now, Hachiman and Miura were walking down a path in the park after leaving the women's restroom.

Though to be precise…

Hachiman was supporting Miura as they walked.

Her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, her head turned away, eyes refusing to meet his. Her voice stammered,

"S-Sorry… I just… I kinda lost control back there… I wasn't thinking straight…"

"You really gave me a scare, honestly."

Hachiman gave a wry smile.

"Thought I was gonna stop breathing for a second."

Like a ferocious tigress pouncing, she hadn't given this poor little lamb a second to react.

He had to admit—women really were terrifying creatures sometimes.

"S-Seriously… I'm really sorry…"

Miura bit her lip and muttered under her breath:

"It's mainly because… just now you…"

"Just now?"

"N-Nothing!"

She clammed up instantly.

No way she could just tell Hachiman that the more he tried to escape, the stronger her possessive desire grew. That'd be… way too embarrassing!

"…Speaking of, back then you kinda… gave it all to me, didn't you…?"

Miura fidgeted, her tone unbearably awkward.

"D-Don't you feel like… you might throw up or something?"

As she spoke, her gaze slowly drifted downward—until it landed on Hachiman's abdomen—then instantly darted away.

"Eh?"

"I-I mean… gross, right?"

"Eh, I've gotten used to it…"

Hachiman muttered quietly.

"…Huh? Wh-What did you just say?"

Her body stiffened. Miura immediately leaned in.

"Don't tell me you also took Yukinoshita's—"

"I drink the Max Coffee she gives me all the time."

Hachiman replied with perfect deadpan.

"…"

Miura fell silent.

She stared at him for a long while before mumbling:

"You guys… guys really are something else."

"You just don't understand men."

"I—hmph!"

Blushing furiously, Miura turned her head and scoffed.

"Okay, fine! Maybe I didn't understand guys before, but now… now I definitely understand you!"

"Not really…"

Hachiman countered flatly.

"You—!"

…Okay, well, maybe not all the way.

But out of all the guys she knew, she understood Hachiman best by far.

"Ahem, anyway… I guess I should apologize too…"

Seeing that Miura was slightly ticked, Hachiman lowered his tone and tried to be humble.

"Huh? Wh-Why would you apologize?"

Face flushed, Miura scoffed with mock arrogance.

"Wasn't it all my fault?"

"Well, even so, I… I did cause your leg to, um… cramp…"

Hachiman looked at her pale, slender thigh with concern.

"Is your leg feeling any better?"

"…Not even close."

Miura's face turned red.

"It's a cramp. Those don't just go away in minutes."

"Fair enough."

Hachiman sighed, then looked toward a bench some dozen meters away.

"Let's take a break over there. I'll carry you."

Trying to walk her there was way too slow.

So Hachiman decided to just pick her up.

"W-What?! Carry me?! Hey—wait, don't just decide that on your own!"

But before she could protest any further, Hachiman had already scooped her up and was jogging toward the bench.

"You—mmph!"

Miura struggled a bit, lightly smacking his chest, but quickly gave up—and even wrapped her arms around him tighter.

No wonder they call her 'Miura Mama'… What a tsundere…

Hachiman glanced down at the blushing girl in his arms and picked up the pace.

In no time, they reached the bench, and he gently set her down.

"Want me to massage it for you?"

Hachiman offered.

"Wha—massage… my leg?"

Miura looked flustered.

"Well, yeah. You've got a cramp. Obviously your leg."

He answered matter-of-factly.

"Ugh… n-no need! It'll… it'll get better on its own…"

She pouted, cheeks once again tinged pink.

"But I caused that cramp. And for someone like you, who's athletic, your legs are super important. If something went wrong, I'd probably have to offer myself up as compensation."

Hachiman said with a bitter smile.

"…If it's you, I might accept that…"

Miura muttered under her breath.

Hachiman didn't catch it, so he simply continued,

"So, as my way of making it up to you—how about I massage it? Sound fair?"

"…"

Staring at the sincere, clear-eyed boy in front of her, Miura swallowed the words "You're just trying to cop a feel," and quietly nodded.

"F-Fine… go ahead."

Hachiman gave a polite nod.

"Then excuse me."

He crouched in front of her, carefully lifting her thigh.

Gentle, focused, and utterly respectful—those were the traits now radiating from Hachiman, and he wore them all flawlessly.

For a moment, Miura was lost just watching him. Her throat moved as she swallowed nervously. Then, before she realized it, she blurted out—

"H-Hachiman…"

"What is it? Does it hurt?"

"N-No… it's feeling a lot better. Your technique is… surprisingly good."

She praised him quietly.

"That's great to hear. If I can earn Miura's approval, then I'd say it's an honor."

Hachiman smiled.

"St-Stop being such a smooth talker…"

Miura huffed again, face still flushed. She then glanced seriously at his body and asked,

"I might be recovering… but what about you?"

"…Me?"

"Don't play dumb in front of me! Your body! After what we just did… don't you… don't you want a woman even more now?"

"Eh?!"

"You do want a woman, don't you?"

Miura, already red-faced and flustered, now leaned forward and cornered the equally embarrassed Hachiman with a sharp, shameless question.