Chapter 13 – Horses, Men, and a Very Unfortunate Packet

The guesthouse corridor was quiet in that dangerous way that always meant something was about to go wrong.

Haruto stepped out of Masato’s room, rubbing the back of his neck. His heart was still racing from the unfinished conversation earlier. He needed air. Or tea. Or a new life. Anything but this emotional roller coaster.

He turned the corner.

And froze.

Sakura stood there, arms crossed, leaning casually against the wall. She looked far too relaxed for someone who had wrecked his emotional stability.

“You’re avoiding me,” she said.

“I’m… walking,” Haruto replied.

She raised an eyebrow. “Badly.”

Before he could respond, the door behind him suddenly slid open.

Masato stumbled out, half-dressed, holding a small paper bag.

“Haruto! I was looking for—oh.”

He followed Haruto’s gaze.

Sakura’s eyes dropped to Masato’s hand.

Silence.

Then Sakura bent forward slightly, squinting. “Is that… what I think it is?”

Masato looked down.

The bag slipped.

A small, unmistakable packet skidded across the wooden floor and stopped neatly at Sakura’s feet.

Time stopped.

Haruto’s soul left his body.

Masato went pale. “This is not what it looks like.”

Sakura picked it up calmly, examined it, then smiled slowly. Dangerously.

“Oh?” she said. “So this isn’t a condom?”

Haruto groaned. “I hate this house.”

Masato panicked. “It’s for safety! Emergency! Planning! I mean—wedding night—no—why am I talking?”

Sakura laughed. Not a shy laugh. A bold, fearless one.

“Relax,” she said, waving the packet lightly. “I’m not scandalized. I’m impressed.”

Haruto snapped his head toward her. “Impressed?”

She shrugged. “Most men panic at the word responsibility.”

Masato looked like he wanted to disappear into the floor. “I am so sorry.”

“Good,” Sakura said. “As you should be.”

She handed the packet back, leaned closer to Haruto, and whispered just loud enough for Masato to hear, “You, on the other hand… look like you’ve never even held one.”

Haruto’s ears burned. “That’s not—!”

She smirked and walked past him, shoulder brushing his arm.

Masato stood there for a moment, then bowed deeply. “I will send an apology message. Possibly a written one. Possibly with my blood.”

Later that evening, Aiko and Sakura sat together near the back veranda, watching the horses in the distant fields.

Aiko sipped her tea. “You scared Haruto today.”

Sakura smiled. “Good.”

Aiko sighed. “You’re impossible.”

Sakura leaned back on her hands. “Tell me something. Why do people say men are like horses?”

Aiko blinked. “What?”

“You know,” Sakura continued. “Strong. Proud. Need patience. Run away when frightened.”

Aiko laughed. “And women?”

Sakura tilted her head. “We ride chaos.”

Aiko nearly choked on her tea.

“You really don’t hold back, do you?”

Sakura’s smile softened. “If you hesitate, men misunderstand kindness for permission and silence for rejection.”

Aiko looked at her carefully. “And Haruto?”

Sakura stared at the horses. “He’s different. That’s the problem.”

Aiko nodded slowly. “Masato was like that too. Quiet strength. Terrifying honesty.”

Sakura scoffed. “I scared him away.”

“Or,” Aiko said gently, “you’re scared he’ll stay.”

Sakura didn’t answer.

That night, Haruto’s phone buzzed.

Masato:

“I am deeply sorry for the incident.

I swear I did not intend to traumatize you or Sakura.

Please forgive me.

P.S. I have hidden all remaining ‘items’ in a locked bag.

P.P.S. Kenji laughed for ten minutes.”

Haruto sighed and typed back.

Haruto:

“I accept your apology.

Please never open that bag in public.”

Almost immediately, another message popped up.

Masato:

“Understood.

Also… Sakura scares me.”

Haruto stared at the screen, then smiled despite himself.

Across the hall, Sakura lay on her futon, staring at the ceiling.

She touched her lips, remembering Haruto’s flustered face.

“Idiot,” she muttered. “Why do you look hurt instead of angry?”

Outside, laughter drifted from another room.

The wedding was still days away.

But something else had already started.

And unlike a wedding…

This one couldn’t be canceled so easily.