50

Hipper was finally brought back by Gojo Sensei, and the reluctance on her face was almost overflowing.

Gojo-sensei walked ahead, his veiny knuckles gripping her delicate wrist like a pair of iron pliers, his thumb pressing against the artery, exerting pressure as his pulse beat. The wind from his swift strides whipped the strands of hair around her ears, and with her high heels, the height difference between them was less noticeable. She glanced up and saw his hair, held down by his eyepatch, and the prickly-looking shaved back of his neck.

Hipper's heels clicked against the ground, making a grating sound as if she were venting her anger. She looked like she wanted to step on someone's feet rather than the ground.

Her gripped arm tensed, and she leaned back, trying to break free from his grasp. The man easily carried her forward, carrying her little strength. Her gaze remained fixed on the point where their skin touched. Her teeth biting her lower lip left a crescent-shaped indentation as they released. Her eyelashes fluttered like frightened butterfly wings, but her eyebrows were furiously drawn downward.

Those eyes, piercing like gemstones in the sunlight, were now filled with rage, and her hair, long a mess, had long since fallen to her shoulders. The girl tossed her head in anger, her long hair swirling in the wind, a few strands caught between Gojo Satoru's fingers.

He suddenly stopped and turned, slowly pulling his knuckles away from her wrist. The white indentations left by the pressure of his fingertips lingered briefly on her skin, like a faint red brand. The act of loosening his grip was like unfastening a shackle. The pressure on her wrist suddenly disappeared, yet her skin felt as if his fingerprints were still there.

When he lowered his head, he gently twisted a strand of hair wrapped around his knuckles with his thumb and index finger. The girl instinctively shrank her neck. When the hair brushed against the back of his hand, he paused for a second and looked up at Hipper, as if to confirm whether he had hurt her.

Her eyelashes fluttered rapidly, and she avoided looking him in the eye, her gaze fixed on the movement of his fingertips, her breathing unconsciously becoming lighter.

Anyone would be nervous being... being watched so closely!

The corners of the teacher's mouth were raised, and gradually tightened into a line, as if he was restraining some emotion.

Gojo-sensei lowered his head to untangle his hair again. His wisps of hair fell over his eye mask, leaving only his taut jawline visible. He stared at his hair the whole time, while she stared at his cuffs—where a button had come undone by her tug.

There was a faint fragrance on the teacher's uniform, perhaps the lingering scent of her shampoo, which entangled briefly and then dissipated at a very close distance.

He carefully lifted a strand of hair that was tangled around his knuckles, running his fingertips through it as lightly as if he were untying a bow. The summer breeze blew past, and the hair slipped from his fingertips, swayed, and finally fell back onto her shoulders.

Those strands of hair were like some kind of invisible bond. After being untied, the distance between the two people suddenly widened even more obviously.

The teacher looked up at you. Even with the blindfold on, you knew everything was visible to him, every detail magnified and slowed down in those blue eyes. But the moment he looked at you, you still looked away, lowering your eyelashes to hide your loss of control.

The remaining warmth and touch on my wrist are like embers. Although I am free, my skin feels as if it is still imprisoned.

The teacher's eyes are too foul.

Her eyes flickered, glancing past him at the students approaching. Her fingertips twirled the pleats of her skirt, her knuckles turning slightly white as the fabric wrinkled in her palms. The hard soles of her high heels tapped the ground, the gentle "tap, tap" creases becoming a series of dense "da da da" sounds, like a torrential downpour on stone slabs.

Initially pursed, her lips gradually relaxed, finally breaking into a bright smile. Her gaze fixed on the crowd ahead, her pupils dilated slightly with excitement, her eyelashes fluttering as she ran. A gust of air blew against her forehead, causing her hair to flutter like a banner behind her head. The surrounding people and scenery blurred in the high-speed movement, but the target she was running towards was the only thing that remained as clear as a sharp focus.

The hem of her skirt slipped between her fingers, and the red cotton skirt fluttered in the wind, like the red clouds in the sky on a summer evening.

Hipper opened her arms to the oncoming crowd, and with one final tap of her heels, she leaped into the waiting arms.

"Panda!"

Panda opened his arms and caught her.

"Be careful, what if you fall?"

Hipper buried her face in Panda's soft fur, not caring whether her makeup would rub against it.

"No way, I'm a genius."

The students surrounded her, chattering about topics to cheer her up. Hipper hung on Panda and hugged it tightly. Listening to their caring words, the smile on her face widened.

"Wu, what happened to Hipper? Didn't you bring her back?" Panda patted Hipper's back to comfort her and asked Gojo Wu, who was in the know.

The man who was being stared at by all the students scratched his head and raised his voice, "Dumped?"

Wow!!!!

“I wasn’t dumped…”

The person who lifted his head from Panda rubbed the fur that was smudged by his own makeup, and spoke in a low voice without much energy.

"I was suddenly called away by work."

Isn't that even worse! He actually left the girl for work on their first date. Is he really a man? Does he even know that the girl he left behind is the most beautiful girl in the world?

That's Hipper, who has no blind spots!

"Online dating has risks, so be careful when meeting in person." Wild Rose grabbed Hipper's shoulders and turned her to face everyone. It was rare to see the unrefined and inelegant side of the genius's face - her makeup was smudged.

The lipstick was all over the corners of her mouth, leaving dirty marks on her beautiful makeup. Her eyes were wet, her eyelids were slightly closed, and her white eyelashes were covered with eyeshadow powder.

"No date, let's go back first?"

Wild Rose shook her shoulders gently, trying to cheer her up a little.

Hipper raised his eyelids and glanced around subtly, landing on Wild Rose. "Are you kidding me?"

Haha, what else?

"Those who have been heartbroken, stop being stubborn. The teacher is treating us today. Let's go." Gojo Satoru opened his arms and pushed the students, urging them to move forward.

"I want the most expensive one."

Wild Rose and Hipper said in unison, looking at each other and smiling maliciously.

"Hey~Hey~ Don't blackmail the teacher like this next time."

Wild Rose had already put her arm around Hipper's shoulders and pulled her aside, asking her about her makeup techniques, types of perfumes, clothing brands, and even small things like earrings and necklaces.

"Clothes? I bought them while shopping with my friends."

"?"

Wild Rose stopped, crossed her arms, and looked at Hipper with raised eyebrows, her eyes full of questioning and curiosity.

"Eh? Anyone who can be friends with a genius must be pretty amazing, right?"

It's not a very clever way of provoking someone.

The setting sun filtered through the leaves of the sycamore trees, casting a wavering spot of light on the bridge of her nose. The girl suddenly stopped, her hair swaying gently as she froze. After hearing the words, she lowered her eyes to look at her fingertips. When she looked back up, the entire sky was captured in her eyes—ripples spread across her crimson pupils, and the smile that blossomed at the corners of her mouth was like a slowly unfurling gardenia, softening even the dust particles in the air—as if someone had sprinkled a handful of icing sugar on her heart, spreading the sweetness from her brow to the corners of her mouth.

A slow and steady gentleness that requires holding your breath to see clearly. All the unspoken words are curled up in the shadow of her eyelashes, only the eyes filled with smiles are fully displayed before you.

“They are my employees.”

Cherished and protected employees.

The girl turned her face away, her fingertips pressed to her lips, as if to suppress a secret about to escape. But a smile slipped through her fingers—the corners of her lips curled up uncontrollably, causing her cheeks to puff slightly, as if she were holding a secretly hidden candy. Even worse was her eyes. The light in them was undeniable. They were gentle, like the surface of a lake in late spring, ripples spreading at the slightest touch.

Those eyes sparkled, as if someone had sprinkled stardust into them, and fragments of light fell down.

"You have to work for me until you die."

The girl's eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings, her crimson pupils tinted with a soft, honey-gold hue in the sunlight, her eyes rippling like a pool of stars shattered by moonlight. Her gaze traced the edge of the man's blindfold, lingering for three seconds at his eye sockets before sliding down the bridge of his nose to the line of his tightly pursed lips, as if playing a game with her eyes, the rules of which only she knew.

A sweet curve formed at the corner of her lips, and her smile had fermented into a luminous, honey-like smile. The tip of her teeth pressed against her lower lip, as if ready to reveal a secret at any moment, but the corners of her eyes drooped slyly - this was her usual micro-expression before she played a prank.

The premise is that she is willing to let you discover it and let you be prepared.

Her neck arched like a swan's, and the tips of her hair brushed against the necklace on her collarbone as she tilted her head. Her right index finger twisted around the strands of hair at her temples, wrapping and unwrapping them at the same pace as the man's rolling Adam's apple.

"Do you want to work for me too?"

His eyes scanned everyone up and down, critical and teasing.

Three steps away, the man's knuckles were white from clenching; within three steps, her smile was piercing the blindfold that blocked her eyes. Unspoken questions and answers floated in the air, like a ball of yarn tangled by a cat's paw, entangled with the tacit understanding between the two of them that could not be revealed to outsiders.

"High-level worker, huh?"

Gojo Satoru took two steps forward, his heels crushing the scattered light on the ground. The sudden decrease in distance stirred a draft that disturbed a strand of hair at her temple. The distance they had always maintained was now broken—the subtle rustle of folds of clothing as he leaned forward was barely audible. Her left hand had already torn open the blindfold and hooked its fingertips around his.

Under the removed blindfold, those eyes were like a drawn sword, placed an inch in front of her throat - the irises had shrunk to a dangerous point due to not seeing the light for a long time, but they still locked onto every subtle expression of hers.

The force of his fingertips hitting her forehead was extremely violent. There was a dark fire burning in his pupils, which branded her reflection in the deepest part of his eyes. Even the frequency of his eyelashes blinking became a monitored variable.

The moment the shadow completely enveloped her, even the air grew thinner. A faint fragrance emanated from him, filling her lungs like a substance. The flickering candlelight suddenly stilled, as if shaken by this silent oppression.

At this moment, the world is silent and you can hear a pin drop.

I always feel that there is something wrong with the teacher now.

The girl's throat rolled gently, and the sound of her dry swallowing was so clear that it was almost piercing in the dead silence, like a grain of sand falling into a deep pool. Her eyelashes fluttered, and she tried to turn her head to avoid the other person's gaze - but the next second, the man's fingers were pressed against her temples, and his thumb pressed against her cheekbone, forcing her to move.

Hipper's pupils constricted. As soon as she saw the teacher make this move, she knew that her head was going to explode.

"Don't hide, little genius." His voice was low, wrapped in dangerous teasing. Before he finished speaking, he curled his index finger and flicked it hard on her forehead.

"Snap!" With a crisp sound, her forehead instantly flushed red, the pain like sparks piercing her nerves, burning her eyes. She suddenly closed her eyes, her tear glands uncontrollably overflowing with physiological tears, but she bit her lower lip to prevent a sob from escaping.

The man's knuckles still hovered between her eyebrows, as if he were savoring her expression of pain. His fingertips still held the warmth of her skin, and he could even feel the quickening of her pulse, one beat, two beats, like the desperate flapping of a captured bird's wings.

Because of the anger and pain, a thin layer of sweat even appeared on the side of his neck, gleaming in the light. But even so, he still didn't let her go.

"Why can't I teach you?" He chuckled. "Am I not paying enough attention or are you not taking it seriously?"

"Answer it?"

Hipper's chest heaved violently, her breath so hot it nearly burned her throat. She clenched her teeth, a barely audible hiss escaping from between them, like a young animal cornered by despair, even her breath tinged with sparks.

The pupils shrank into two bright needle points.

“…It’s all the teacher’s fault.”

His voice was extremely low, the words squeezed out from between his teeth, wrapped in damp grievance and scorching annoyance, the ending even trembling slightly. But the tone rose, with a hint of unwillingness to be outdone.

So cute.

Even anger is furry.

Want to kiss.

I want to kiss her forehead, her bright eyes, and her mouth.

I want to kiss her until she faints.

Do something even more extreme.

"oh."

The man raised his hand to put on the eye mask and adjusted its position, his voice lazy.

"Then the teacher apologizes to you."

He put his hands in his pockets, straightened his back and looked down at her.

"Okay, it's your turn."

"……ha?"

A short, breathy sound escaped from Hipper's slightly parted lips. Her vocal cords seemed to have failed due to shock, and she only managed to squeeze out half a broken question. Her eyebrows raised very slowly, as if she was deciphering an unknown language.

"Want to take advantage of the teacher's labor for free? That's not good, right?" The man pretended to think and began to bargain with her.

"As for monetary compensation..." He paused and glanced at Hipper. "Teachers are very expensive, aren't they?"

“…”

I know you are very expensive, even a shirt is very expensive. Wild Rose gritted her teeth when she thought of that shirt, and she has nothing to say to you rich people!

"...Do I look like someone who can't afford your price?"

Hipper rubbed his forehead and retorted unhappily.

"That's not it." Gojo Satoru pulled her shoulders over, put his hands on both sides of her shoulders and pushed her forward.

"You never thought of paying me."

“…”

He guessed right.

"I'll get it even if you don't give it to me."

The man leaned over and whispered.