Yuri's POV:
I was slouched over my desk, head pounding a little but trying to power through—until I heard heavy footsteps storming toward me.
"Yuri! Yuri!"
It was Cin, breathless, his face pale like he'd seen a ghost.
I raised a brow, already uneasy.
"What is it?"
"Y/N…" he gasped.
That was all it took.
My chair scraped back hard.
"What happened to her?!" I barked, my voice sharper than I intended as I slammed a fist onto the desk.
"Freya… she—she poured juice on her… in front of everyone…" he said between gasps.
My hands clenched, blood boiling.
I grabbed Cin's collar, pulling him closer, my jaw tight.
"Where. Is. She. Now?"
"G-Girls' washroom," he stammered.
I didn't wait for another second.
My body moved on its own, heart racing, feet slamming down the hallway as I bolted toward her.
Time skips — inside the car.
Yuri gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white.
The silence in the car was heavy, but not peaceful. His thoughts kept spiraling, looping the same scene over and over in his head—the juice, the crowd, her frozen expression, her soaked clothes.
"Why the fuck…!" he muttered under his breath, slamming the heel of his palm against the steering wheel.
The sharp thud echoed through the car—
—but then he paused.
Turning slightly, his eyes shifted to the passenger seat.
There she was, her head gently leaned against the window, hair slightly tousled, her breathing steady. Asleep.
Yuri stared at her for a second. The storm in his chest dulled a little.
He sighed, long and low.
"Even after that, you still find peace to sleep beside me, huh?" he murmured, almost like a whisper to himself.
He shifted the gear gently, careful not to disturb her, and drove a little slower this time.
The car rolls to a stop in front of Yuri's hideout.
The engine hum dies out slowly, but he doesn't move. His hand rests on the gear, yet his eyes are on her—still asleep, still so unaware of the chaos she causes inside him.
He leans back slightly, studying her face under the dim glow of the dashboard.
Her eyelashes—long and delicate.
Her cheeks—a soft shade of pink, flushed from the warmth.
And her lips—slightly parted, puffy, like a silent invitation.
He swallows, suddenly aware of the thud in his chest.
"Why are you like this…" he murmurs under his breath, voice low, almost as if afraid to wake her. "You just show up, mess up everything inside me… and sleep like nothing ever happened."
For a moment, he considers waking her.
But instead, he quietly gets out, walks around the car, and opens the passenger door.
A cold breeze brushes past them.
"Miss…" he says gently, crouching slightly, his face close to hers.
"Wake up. We're here."
Her eyes flutter slowly, half-lidded and confused.
"You drooled on my car seat," he smirks—teasing just to cover up the fact that his heart's going crazy from just watching her breathe.
"I'm sorry," she muttered quickly.
Her eyes shifted to the window, noticing the unfamiliar surroundings. "Wait… why are we here? Why aren't we going home?"
Yuri, still gripping the steering wheel, glanced at her and replied coolly, "How can I take you home looking like this?"
Y/N frowned. "It's fine, I don't mind."
"But I do," he snapped, his gaze sharp. "What if my dad sees you like this? He'll have my head—this is what he meant when he told me to protect you."
"But Uncle Haru isn't even home," she countered with a slight pout.
Yuri rolled his eyes and leaned slightly toward her. "Miss, if you keep throwing excuses and won't stop babbling… should I shut your mouth for you?"
She narrowed her eyes playfully. "Shut me up if you ca—"
Her words were cut off the moment Yuri's lips met hers.
She froze—completely stunned, heart racing, mind blank.
The kiss was sudden, gentle, but bold enough to silence everything inside her. His hand rested near her face, steadying her, as if the whole world had vanished around them.
She didn't move. Just sat there, wide-eyed, lips parted the moment he pulled back.
Yuri looked at her with his usual unreadable expression, then spoke in a low, teasing voice:
"Told you, Miss… too much babbling."
"Yuriiiiiii, you freaking idiot!" she shouted, punching his shoulder hard.
Yuri winced slightly, rubbing the spot with a smug smile. "Ouch… worth it."
Without another word, she angrily burst out of the car, slamming the door shut behind her. Her cheeks were flushed—partly from embarrassment, partly from rage—as she stomped toward the entrance of the hideout, muttering under her breath.
"Unbelievable… that stupid red-haired jerk…"
Yuri leaned his head back against the seat, watching her storm off, still grinning like he just won a prize.
Yuri leaned against the car door for a moment, raking a hand through his red hair. His heart was still racing, not from the kiss, but from her reaction.
"I'm sorry, Y/N… I couldn't handle it this time. I'm sorry…" he whispered, his voice low with a tinge of guilt.
He took a deep breath, steadying himself.
"Such a firecracker," he muttered with a soft chuckle, eyes trailing after her figure disappearing inside.
Then, without rushing, he stepped out of the car and followed her in—quietly, yet determinedly, like a storm that knew exactly where it was headed.
Inside the house…
Yuri closed the door behind him with a soft click, his voice steady but calm.
"Miss, go upstairs and shower. I'll get you something to change into."
Y/N didn't say a word, just nodded and walked silently up the stairs. Her footsteps echoed lightly as she disappeared down the hallway. Moments later, the sound of water running from the shower began to fill the quiet house.
Yuri made his way into the bedroom, his expression unreadable. Hearing the water still running, he opened the drawer of the wardrobe and pulled out a clean, oversized hoodie and a pair of soft sweatpants—something comfortable. Something warm.
He walked toward the bathroom door and raised his hand to knock… but paused.
Instead, he placed the folded clothes neatly on the bed, glanced once toward the door where the steam was starting to slip through the crack at the bottom… and without a word, turned and walked out. His silence was loud, but his gesture spoke volumes.
After her shower, Y/N slowly cracked open the bathroom door, the steam curling around her like a gentle mist. She peeked out, towel wrapped securely around her body, just to check if the coast was clear.
Her eyes landed on the neatly folded clothes on the bed — a pair of grey sweatpants and a dark oversized hoodie. She tiptoed out, still dripping slightly, and grabbed them.
Back inside, she dried off quickly, pulling the hoodie over her head. It was massive… it nearly reached mid-thigh, swallowing her petite frame in soft, familiar warmth. Smells like him, she thought absentmindedly, cheeks warming a little.
Then came the sweatpants. She held them up, examining the size — definitely too big.
"Hmph… how am I even supposed to wear this?" she mumbled, one eyebrow raised.
After a few seconds of thought, she rolled the waistband several times and tied the drawstring tightly. It still sagged a little at the hips, but it would do
She looked at herself in the mirror — drowned in Yuri's clothes but somehow… cozy. Almost safe.
She carefully made her way down the stairs, each step a challenge with Yuri's oversized sweatpants slipping past her waist. She tugged up both legs, gripping the fabric in tight fists, waddling more than walking.
"Yurii?" she called softly, peeking around the corner. No answer.
She took a few more steps, pausing at the last one.
"Yuriiii! Where are yo—AHH!"
Her foot caught in the loose hem of the sweatpants, and everything went sideways. She slipped, flailing forward with a yelp — but before she could meet the floor, a pair of strong arms caught her mid-air.
Thump.
Right into Yuri's chest.
His brows raised, a little amused. "Seriously?" he smirked. "You can survive Freya's wrath, but not my sweatpants?"
She blinked, still stunned in his arms.
"…Shut up."
Yuri chuckled, his eyes scanning her clumsy form.
"You don't even need the pants, you know. My hoodie's like a full dress on you. Even that skirt you wear sometimes is shorter than this."
"Oh…" she muttered, cheeks flushing a little, realizing he was right.
Before she could process anything else, he scooped her up in one smooth motion—bridal style.
"Yuri! What are you doing?" she gasped, her hands instinctively clutching his hoodie around her.
"No negative thoughts, miss," he replied with a straight face, carrying her effortlessly back upstairs.
He gently placed her at the edge of the bed, then turned around and plugged in a hairdryer.
Without saying a word, he sat beside her and began to dry her damp hair—his touch surprisingly gentle, fingers moving through her strands like he'd done it a hundred times before.
"…Why are you doing this?" she whispered.
"Because you look like trouble when your hair's wet," he replied coolly. "And because I wanted to."
After he finished drying her hair, Yuri casually set the dryer aside and stood up.
"Come on, let's have dinner," he said, already heading toward the door.
Y/N blinked. "Huh? Dinner? Where did you get dinner from?"
Yuri turned around with a smirk. "Bakka!! I made some while you were showering."
Her jaw dropped slightly. "You… can cook?"
Yuri gave her a mock glare. "Shut up or else—no dinner for you, miss."
Y/N laughed and stood up, tugging the oversized hoodie over her knees. "Alright, alright, Chef Yuri… lead the way."
Bedtime
The house was quiet now, the only sound the soft hum of the air conditioner. Y/N stifled a yawn as she sat on the edge of the bed and glanced at Yuri.
Y/N (softly):
"Yuri, you take the bed. I'll sleep on the couch downstairs—it's big enough."
Yuri paused, concern flickering in his eyes. He moved to the foot of the bed and folded his arms.
Yuri (gently):
"Miss, you should take the bed. What if the boys show up unexpectedly and find you alone on the couch?"
She smiled, touched by his worry.
Y/N:
"You worry too much."
He reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
Yuri:
"I can't help it."
Y/N patted the mattress beside her.
Y/N:
"Then come sleep here with me."
Yuri blinked, caught completely off‑guard by her sudden closeness.
"Huh?" he murmured, his surprise softening into amusement.
Y/N let out a light giggle, her fingers brushing his arm.
"Just teasing you, heheh."
He gave a small sigh, the corner of his mouth quirking up.
"Go to sleep," he said, voice heavy with sleepiness.
Before she could reply, his eyes fluttered shut, and his breathing evened out—he was gone, vanished into sleep.
Y/N watched his chest rise and fall in the dim moonlight, the oversized hoodie enveloping him like a cocoon. She smiled to herself, the day's chaos finally at rest, and curled up closer.
Moments later, her own eyes drifted shut, and the house fell silent
Midnight. A low rumble of thunder rolled across the sky—then, without warning, a deafening blast shook the house. Y/N's eyes flew open as she bolted upright in the bed, her heart pounding in her ears.
The overhead light flickered once…and died, plunging the room into inky darkness. Instantly, the walls seemed to close in. A fresh wave of panic seized her, and memories she'd fought so hard to bury surged back: childhood nights alone in empty halls, the echo of rain on distant rooftops, the helplessness of being trapped by her own fear.
She pressed trembling hands over her ears, rocking back and forth, silent sobs shaking her frame. Tears streamed down her cheeks in the blackness.
A blinding flash of lightning ripped through the window, illuminating the room in stark white. In that instant she saw her own wide-eyed reflection on the glass—and the shadows that danced across the walls. Then came the thunder's crack, louder than before, and the world went dark again.
"Aaaaaaaa!" she screamed, the sound tearing from her throat as the storm raged on outside and the darkness swallowed her cry.
Yuri jerked upright the moment the thunder cracked—his heart slammed against his ribs as the lights died and the house fell into darkness.
A second later, a piercing scream cut through the blackout.
"Y–Y/N?!" he gasped, scrambling out of couch. His bare feet slapped against the hardwood floor as he groped for his phone on the nightstand, thumb fumbling until the screen lit up. He switched on the flashlight.
The hallway was a tunnel of shadows, broken only by the harsh beam in his hand and the intermittent strobe of lightning through the windows.
"Y/N!" he called, voice raw with panic, and sprinted toward her room.
He threw the door open. Inside, Y/N was huddled in the corner, arms wrapped around her knees, shoulders heaving with silent sobs. Her hair was damp against her face—sweat or tears, he couldn't tell—and her eyes were squeezed shut as she rocked back and forth.
"Miss…" he whispered, rushing to her side. Kneeling, he dropped to one knee and set the phone's light on the floor so it cast a soft glow across the room. Gently, he laid his jacket over her trembling shoulders.
"Y/N, it's okay. I'm here," he murmured, voice low and steady. He reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from her cheek. "You're safe. I've got you."
Outside, the storm raged on, but inside that little circle of light, Y/N's sobs began to slow as Yuri pulled her into his arms—his heartbeat finally matching hers.