Konan didn't mention a word about what had happened during the day. She didn't ask Zaraki Kita if she had gone to the North District, nor did she boast about her accomplishments there. She simply went about her usual tasks. In this regard, Konan seemed unreasonably "cold-hearted."
In truth, she wanted Zaraki Kita to bring it up herself. If Zaraki Kita did, Konan would have told her everything. But Zaraki Kita remained silent, and Konan refused to initiate the conversation. To be honest, when Konan became stubborn, she even found her own behavior somewhat baffling.
Yet between the two of them, whether years ago or now, there was never a moment of awkward silence. Just as Zaraki Kita might ask if the tomato beef stew was too salty, Konan would recount the events of their years apart. They drank tea, shared stories, and the atmosphere remained as harmonious as ever.
Though autumn had arrived, the weather remained oppressively humid. To make matters worse, it hadn't rained for three consecutive days, causing the usually cool indoor temperature to rise uncomfortably. At least, Konan felt quite warm. Still flushed from her shower, she pondered her options and decided to bring out her secret weapon—well, she decided to go commando.
When Konan emerged from the bedroom after her shower, changed into a camisole, Zaraki Kita, who was sipping tea and watching TV, choked in surprise.
Her coughs were hoarse, and she spluttered, spilling tea all over herself. Konan calmly sat beside her, pulled out a tissue, and began wiping the tea from Zaraki Kita's clothes. They were so close that even if Zaraki Kita held her breath, she could still smell the woman's bath gel—a lavender scent, Zaraki Kita's favorite.
"Your clothes are wet. Take them off," Konan commanded.
Zaraki Kita's face flushed crimson, and she stammered shyly, "N-no, it's not necessary."
Her legs, which had been clearly visible a moment ago, were now bent at the knees and pressed together. From Konan's angle, only a blinding flash of porcelain-white skin remained. Konan had a stunning figure—curvaceous and shapely, with long, pale legs that defied her age. Though she was over—*ahem*, let's not mention that—her skin remained remarkably smooth and radiant, a testament to her mastery of Chakra manipulation.
Zaraki Kita's blush deepened, but Konan pretended not to notice, refraining from insisting she remove her cotton bathrobe or silk scarf. She leaned back slightly, subtly widening her stance.
"Ah, what a waste of good tea."
She was referring to Zaraki Kita spilling tea on herself, but Kita wasn't paying attention. As Konan spread her legs, Kita caught a glimpse of her black lace panties—a style characteristic of Konan, just like her strappy miniskirt. Though black, the skirt was as thin as gauze, with intricate cutouts that left almost nothing to the imagination. Kita could even see the faint outline of Konan's nipples through the sheer fabric.
Kita had actually bought this skirt for Konan as a birthday gift years ago, and Konan had worn it only once that day. Despite Kita's repeated pleas, she refused to wear it again, saying, "I can't indulge your perverted habits, and your taste really needs fixing." Regardless, Kita never expected Konan to still have it.
Kita's face flushed crimson to the roots of her hair, but Konan pretended not to notice, casually crossing her legs and swinging them right under Kita's nose while continuing the conversation.
"Aren't you hot in that?" she asked, deliberately leaning closer to Kita.
"N-no, not hot," Kita mumbled, her voice barely audible as she subtly tried to create some distance. But the small movement only brought her closer, pressing her against Konan's soft breasts.
Zaraki Kita felt the softness pressed against her back—it was truly soft. She realized Konan had been lying; she hadn't lost any weight at all. She was still the same size as before.
"Oh, really? But I'm so hot. Can I borrow some coolness from you?"
To be honest, Zaraki Kita wasn't the kind of man who could remain composed with a beauty in his arms, especially when that beauty was Konan.
Stay calm! Control yourself!
"G-God, Konan-sama, please, please have some, some self-respect."
"Can self-respect be eaten? Is it wrong to borrow some coolness from you?"
To be honest, Zaraki Kita wasn't cool at all.
Konan's smooth, freshly-showered leg brushed against the back of his hand. He could feel its silkiness even through his hand—if it felt this good on the back of his hand, what would it feel like in his palm?
Konan asked, "Zaraki Kita, do you think my breasts have gotten smaller?"
Zaraki Kita's mouth went dry, especially when his hand began to drift toward a certain warmth and eventually settled on a soft, yielding mass.
"Feel them. Have they gotten smaller?"
"N-no, no, they haven't."
He stuttered badly.
"I think they have. Give them a little massage."
To reiterate, Zaraki Kita was definitely not a saint.
Especially when her hand covered something soft and then began to knead uncontrollably, pulling her entire body down onto the sofa. Before she could speak or even think, moist, red lips pressed against hers.
A very wet, very warm, very lingering kiss.
After seven years apart, their lips and tongues reunited, tasting, feeling, and everything else just as they had before. It wasn't just the kiss; deeper movements followed, each satisfying the other completely, as if no time had passed at all.
Spring tides surged, flesh melded, clouds turned to rain, and fish and water found their joy.
On the sofa, in the bedroom, more than once.
Konan lay on her side, her slightly flushed body and satiated expression turned toward Zaraki Kita's profile, which was so close she could almost touch it. With closed eyes and even breaths, Zaraki Kita slept soundly, so soundly that even the soft bedside lamp Konan switched on didn't disturb her slumber.
Konan reached out, tracing the profile that had captivated her so deeply. It wasn't a face of breathtaking beauty, but it possessed an extraordinary, comforting quality.
The night was deep, but Konan couldn't sleep, not even a little. She feared that if she closed her eyes, the person lying beside her would vanish when she opened them again. So she kept her eyes fixed on Zaraki Kita until dawn broke.
━━━━ ❖ ━━━
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