Chapter 68
Makima slowly lifted her head to look at Denji. She watched his other hand reach toward her, curiosity flickering in her eyes.
Only one hand this time—what would Denji do now?
The answer: four fingers gently scratching under her chin.
While doing so, Denji seemed to murmur softly under his breath, repeating:
"Good baby So good Such a good obedient girl~"
Makima's face flushed deeper with shame, yet she couldn't stop the corners of her mouth from gradually rising. As the pleasant sensation spread, her eyes instinctively narrowed—though she didn't dare fully close them, because she still wanted to keep looking at Denji. That made it feel even better~
"Now you can only answer with 'mm' or shaking your head, okay~"
"…Mm…"
Makima hesitated slightly. The scene felt far too much like something she had imagined in her mind, but in the end she couldn't resist and softly agreed.
As a reward, Denji's four fingers scratched even more gently. He even lifted his thumb and lightly pressed it between Makima's lips.
Her lips were soft and moist. The fingertip simply rested there—then accidentally slipped inside.
Makima stole a careful glance at Denji. She really hadn't done it on purpose~
Of course Denji didn't blame her. Instead his expression grew even more tender and doting, as though he were caring for some lingering shadow extremely similar to her.
"Feels good?"
"Mm."
Denji twined their already joined hands. Palms still pressed together, his fingertips lightly tapped along the gaps between her jade-like fingers.
He slowly leaned in close, resting beside Makima's ear.
"Am I teaching well?"
"Mm!—!"
Makima seemed a little overstimulated. The first part of her sound came out short and sharp, but she quickly added the full tone—as though fully affirming Denji's question.
"Then… is Makima a good girl?"
In the split second before saying Makima's name, Denji paused almost imperceptibly.
No matter how similar, no matter how much alike—she still wasn't that person after all.
"…Mm?"
Makima couldn't give a definite answer. She seemed to delicately sense the faint withdrawal in Denji's emotion, so she broke through her earlier caution—tentatively using her tongue to curl and lick the finger still in her mouth, trying to draw back Denji's affection.
Denji's brows lowered gently, slowly covering the pang of longing in his heart.
He quickly gathered his emotions again. After all, it wouldn't be long before he would "steal back" the person he missed—no matter where she was.
For now, set that aside.
Denji spoke again, slowly asking:
"Makima is…" Before he finished, Makima's ears had already perked up in alert,
"…Denji's good—"
"Date partner?"
Oh—fatal twist. A little regretful—not quite any of the titles he most wanted to say.
But Makima had no time to think too deeply. She simply followed her emotions and obediently answered.
"Mm~~"
"Have you decided on the next date plans yet?"
"Mm—"
Makima quickly agreed, then hesitantly lowered her tone and carefully shook her head.
Seeing Denji's expression remain unchanged, she tried again with an extremely short ending tone.
"…Mm."
"Reach out your hand."
Makima lifted the small hand that had been tightly clutching her own clothes.
Her hand hung low—in a relaxed, naturally open state, yet her knuckles were blanched from tension and anticipation, trembling faintly without stop.
Denji suddenly pulled his finger from Makima's mouth and withdrew his hand while saying:
"Since you still haven't decided, let's play rock-paper-scissors to see who arranges first, okay?"
Makima was still immersed in the sudden loss of "dependence" and security. She hadn't even registered what Denji just said.
Denji drew his hand back into a scissors gesture, then slowly raised it in front of Makima's eyes.
"Hehe, I won!"
That doting smile finally truly faded. The intoxicating gentle aura slowly receded.
He returned to his previous natural, relaxed smile.
Still sunny, still warm—just with an elusive sense of distance…
Makima blinked, suddenly snapping back. Her peripheral vision reluctantly glanced at Denji's hand one last time before she forced herself to maintain a calm tone and ask:
"So what does Denji plan to do?"
Makima's hand had somehow already moved to the buttons of her coat.
This was what she had already planned—the original script and development.
Even though everything had gone chaotically off track, she could only pull out the pre-prepared contingency.
Her knuckles curled slightly—seemingly just waiting for Denji's answer so she could unleash her seductive posture, trying to take back some control of the date by taking an unexpected path.
But Denji's answer was:
"Let's go watch a movie."
Makima froze. What Denji said was exactly what she had wanted—or rather, the only date activity she had prepared for.
Denji still wore that relaxed, sunny smile. Makima saw no flaw and simply chose to believe him.
"…Mm." Realizing she had answered in that way again, Makima quickly corrected herself: "Okay. I hope Denji can pick a movie that satisfies me~"
"Don't worry—you'll be satisfied~"
His tone was strange—almost not even trying to hide it anymore. Makima pressed her lips together but ultimately chose not to say anything more.
She simply went with the flow—like countless branches of a river inevitably flowing into the sea. She closely followed Denji's steps, like a lost person searching for a place to belong…
…
Makima had originally thought Denji might take her to some theater. She had even mentally gone through the current showings at various cinemas, wondering which film would be worth watching.
In the end—
"Lovers' Private Cinema Cafe."
Just here to watch a movie?
Makima tilted her head and gave Denji one extra glance.
Such a simple action—containing no emotion—yet somehow gave the impression of saying:
You call this watching a movie? Even I think this excuse is terrible.
But strangely, the heart that had been floating aimlessly in midair—unable to find its orbit—now strangely settled because of this "terrible excuse."
Whether disappointment or relief—after everything went chaotically off-script, the result… seemed not so different after all.
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