Chapter 149: Bathroom Play

Hotels like this usually offered two kinds of rates: short-stay rooms charged by the hour or overnight rooms charged per day. Naturally, the latter cost quite a bit more.

But Kouya didn’t care about the money in the slightest. He simply reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out his bank card, and slid it across the counter without even glancing at the total. His movements were calm, practiced, and confident—the kind that made the receptionist instinctively stand a little straighter.

After swiping the card, the receptionist smiled politely and handed him a key attached to a heart-shaped tag. “Here’s your room key, sir. Please enjoy your stay.”

“Thanks.” Kouya accepted it casually, his voice steady.

Just then, the door swung open again. Another guest stumbled in from the rain—a middle-aged man soaked from head to toe, water dripping off his sleeves and collar. He hurried toward the counter, breathless. “Quick! I need a room—any room you’ve got!”

The receptionist offered a regretful smile. “I’m sorry, sir. We’re fully booked. The last room was just taken by this couple here.”

“C-couple!” Vigne’s face went bright red in an instant. Her eyes darted to Kouya, then to the others around them. The warmth of all those eyes made her skin prickle. She wanted to shout that it wasn’t what it looked like—but her voice caught. Instead, she quickly stepped to the side, putting as much space between her and Kouya as possible, wearing an expression that screamed, ‘I don’t even know this guy!’

Kouya’s brow twitched. ‘Really now…’

The two of them climbed the stairs in silence, Vigne trailing behind with her head lowered. Only when they reached the landing and were out of sight of the reception desk did she murmur, almost guiltily, “I’ll pay you back for the room tomorrow… okay?”

Just as she spoke, a woman descended from the upper floor. She overheard Vigne’s words, blinked, then looked at Kouya with a sharp, judgmental glare that could’ve cut glass.

Kouya’s eye twitched. ‘What kind of look is that supposed to be?! Do I look like the type of scumbag who makes girls pay half after checking into a hotel?!’

As the woman brushed past, she muttered under her breath, loud enough to hear: “Girls really need to be careful not to fall for jerks.”

Kouya’s mouth twitched. ‘Oh, you said that on purpose. You definitely did.’

His fingers curled slightly, but he exhaled and turned away. ‘You’re lucky I’m in a good mood tonight, lady…’

Meanwhile, Vigne covered her mouth and giggled softly, the tension melting from her shoulders. Her bright laugh seemed to wash away the awkwardness from moments ago.

…

When they finally reached their room and stepped inside, Vigne’s first reaction was relief.

The interior was clean and plain—not one of those tacky rooms with pink lighting and mirrored ceilings she’d been dreading. Instead, warm yellow light filled the small space, reflecting softly off polished furniture.

It wasn’t much different from a normal business hotel. The biggest difference was the lack of windows—typical for love hotels, preventing outside view or cameras from peeking in. The air smelled faintly of disinfectant mixed with a hint of floral air freshener.

At the center stood a pristine white double bed, perfectly made. Across from it hung a flat-screen TV. A small fridge rested in the corner, humming softly; inside were canned drinks, bottles of water, and a few colorful snacks, all included in the room charge. The small wooden shelf by the bed displayed a modest selection of manga and magazines.

And tucked discreetly into the corner—like an unspoken invitation—stood a compact vending machine that dispensed condoms.

The moment Vigne noticed it, she froze. Her eyes widened, her lips parted slightly, and then she quickly turned her head away, cheeks burning. She bit her lower lip so hard it almost hurt. ‘Why would they even put that out in the open?!’

Kouya shut the door behind them and turned to her. “You should take a shower first.”

Her head whipped around so fast it was a blur. “W-what are you saying?!” she squeaked, clutching Big Meow tightly against her chest like a shield. Her eyes were sharp with alarm, yet there was a nervous tremor in her voice.

Kouya raised a brow. “We’re both soaked. If you don’t wash off, you’ll be uncomfortable all night.”

Vigne blinked. Now that he mentioned it, her wet clothes clung to her skin, chilling her even through the warmth of the room. The thought of a hot shower sounded heavenly. But then her gaze drifted toward the bathroom, and all the color drained from her face.

The bathroom’s door was made of frosted glass—the kind that blurred details but left silhouettes visible. The outline of a body, the curve of a shoulder or hip—it would all be visible in faint shadow.

Her mind filled in the rest, and her cheeks flamed. “If I take a shower in there, you’ll see everything!” she burst out, shaking her head frantically. “No way! I’ll just use the hair dryer! That’s enough!”

Kouya sighed, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. “Suit yourself. I’ll go first, then.”

He took off his jacket and headed for the bathroom without further argument. His calmness only made Vigne more flustered.

She puffed her cheeks and looked away stubbornly. “Fine! Do whatever you want!”

She busied herself with the hair dryer, using the warm air to dry Big Meow’s fur. The little cat meowed softly, curling comfortably in her lap. Though Vigne was technically a demon and immune to the cold, the cat wasn’t. It had just had surgery—it needed warmth and care.

Behind her, the sound of running water filled the room. The rhythmic splash of droplets echoed off the walls, steady and hypnotic. Vigne’s ears twitched involuntarily. No matter how hard she tried to ignore it, her mind kept painting images of Kouya under that water—his hair wet, the water streaming down his body, the steam rising…

Her cheeks burned hotter. ‘No no no! Don’t think about that!’

The harder she tried not to imagine it, the more her imagination rebelled. The sound of water seemed louder than before, teasing her senses until she wanted to scream.

Desperate for distraction, she grabbed the remote and turned on the TV.

A warm, nostalgic program called Midnight Diner was airing. The soft music and calm narration about food and lonely souls provided a strange comfort. Gradually, her racing heartbeat slowed. The tension in her shoulders eased.

Just as she began to relax, the water shut off.

“I’m done,” Kouya’s voice came from behind her.

Vigne turned—and froze.

He stepped out of the bathroom wearing only a white bathrobe, water still glistening on his hair and collarbones. The robe hung loose, tied lazily at the waist, leaving his chest partially exposed. The faint scent of soap mixed with warm steam followed him into the room.

“T-that was fast!” she squeaked, her voice jumping an octave as she spun around, her face redder than ever.

“It wasn’t a bath. Just a rinse,” he said casually, drying his hair with a towel.

She risked a quick peek at him again—just for a second—and immediately regretted it. Her heart pounded. “Y-you should put something on!”

Kouya sighed, half amused. “My clothes are still wet. How am I supposed to wear them?”

Vigne puffed her cheeks, trying to sound authoritative but failing miserably. “Then use the dryer! Blow them dry!”

“Got it, got it,” he said with a faint chuckle.

The faintly clean scent of soap and shampoo drifted across the room, wrapping around her senses. It made her suddenly aware of her own damp state—the way her blouse clung to her back, the stickiness of her hair against her neck. The discomfort was unbearable now.

The TV program ended, fading into a commercial. Vigne fidgeted for a few seconds before standing abruptly, grabbing a manga book from the shelf as if to shield herself from his gaze.

“Here! Read this!” she declared, thrusting it toward him with the seriousness of someone handing over a sacred object.

“Uh… I’m not really into manga,” Kouya said, raising a brow.

Before he could say more, she shoved it into his chest. Her expression was flustered but determined. “I’m going to take a bath. You can read this, or watch TV, or whatever—but you absolutely must not peek! If you do, I swear I’ll never forgive you!”

Kouya blinked at her. ‘Who’d even want to peek?’ he thought dryly. ‘If I wanted to, I wouldn’t bother hiding it.’ Out loud, he just said, “Fine, fine. Go already.”

He flipped open the manga idly.

Then froze.

His brows lifted. His expression changed immediately from bored to baffled.

Vigne noticed. “What’s that look for?” she asked, suspicious.

Kouya didn’t answer. Instead, he raised the book slowly, turning it toward her.

She frowned, walked over, and snatched it from his hands. One glance—and her entire face went crimson. Steam could have literally come out of her ears.

It was an erotic manga. And not just mildly suggestive—it was explicit. Very explicit. The kind with scandalous panels and ridiculous scenarios involving the girl-next-door.

Vigne’s eyes went wide. “Th-they actually keep this kind of manga here?! That’s… that’s so irresponsible!” she stammered, nearly dropping it.

Kouya blinked. ‘Lady, this is a love hotel. What exactly were you expecting—comic books for kids?’

With a sharp snap!, Vigne slammed the manga shut, clutching it to her chest like it might bite her. Her face was so red it almost glowed.

She puffed out her cheeks and pointed an accusing finger at him. “You’re not allowed to read these filthy things! Watch TV instead!”

Her trembling voice and the way her ears twitched only made the sight more endearing—and far less intimidating.

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