From the moment we entered the inn room, it was all over. Nozomi was frolicking on the tatami mat, her yukata sleeves fluttering, and casually closing the distance between us. Her fingertips touched my shoulder. Her arms wrapped around my back. She looked up at me, whispering "Thank you," and was so close. Even before our lips touched, it felt like we were kissing, and once it started, she wouldn't let go. On the futon, we hugged each other, kissing again and again, she buried her face in my chest, we confirmed each other's presence with our fingertips, and we even forgot the camera was rolling. In the open-air bath, amidst the steam, we snuggled close, and Nozomi slowly touched my neck, ears, and lips. Her innocence only further eroded my self-control. Night and morning, whenever our eyes met, we kissed. When I woke up, she would pull me into a hug and laugh, saying, "Let's stay together a little longer." The word "immoral" isn't enough to describe it. Nozomi was simply too cute, and I lost all reason to resist—just a super cute, passionate kissing hot spring trip.