Asuka flopped onto the living room couch, the house dark and still around her. It was late, past 11 p.m.
The kind of quiet that pressed in heavy after a long day. Yuta was out for whole night, and Machiko had texted about a late meeting, not due back till after midnight. Alone, Asuka felt the itch she'd been dodging since the park hangout with Ryuki today.
She tugged off her socks, tossing them aside, and sank deeper into the cushions. The TV flickered on, some dumb late-night ad, but her eyes glazed over it. Her mind wasn't here. It was back at tennis practice two days ago. Ryuki's hands on her, adjusting her grip, his fingers firm against her wrist. "Like this," he'd said, voice low, his chest brushing her shoulder. Then later, fixing her stance, his palm grazing her waist, lingering as he stepped back, smirking. That touch stuck, replaying in loops she couldn't shake.