When Shirakawa Sawahei woke up the next day, he suddenly realized that his breathing was somewhat impeded.
Opening his eyes, he saw that the little girl had somehow climbed onto him, sleeping on his chest. Her tiny arms and legs were all tangled around him, making it a bit hard for him to breathe.
Asano Nazuki, who was deeply asleep, had lost her usual annoying vibe, and in Shirakawa Sawahei's eyes, she looked inexplicably pleasant. Her brow and eyes were gentle, her slightly baby-fat cheeks adorned with a sweet smile. She looked just like a cute porcelain doll.
This doll's long hair was gracefully spread behind her head, with some mischievous strands tickling Shirakawa Sawahei's neck. He wanted to reach out and brush away the little girl's hair, but found his hands restrained by an inexplicably soft force.
What the heck!
This feeling...!
This legendary feeling...!
Masaka!
