Chapter 67 He held her so tightly it was as if he wanted to meld her into his body…
"Hey, Yukimura. You know what?"
As the last glimmer of fireworks faded, Risa suddenly spoke. Her voice was soft, like a pebble dropped into still water.
Yukimura turned his head to look at her, the shadow of his eyelashes falling beneath his eyelids. The light of the lanterns in the distance flickered slightly in his purplish-blue pupils, like starlight beneath a deep pool.
“In my world… there are countless people who cherish you.”
Yukimura looked into those dark eyes, which shone brightly, like black pearls soaking in spring water, or like black holes.
"Some people are heartbroken by your illness, some regret your disappointment after returning to the competition, and some are still debating the choices made by Yanagi-kun and Sanada-kun in the National Tournament..."
She turned her head away, not daring to look at him, her gaze falling on the ginkgo leaf embroidery on his haori. "But what shocked me even more was another voice."
The crisp sound of a priest ringing a bell could be heard in the distance.
Yukimura's pupils contracted sharply upon hearing the word "illness," and his knuckles made a slight "click" sound. But it was fleeting.
"They say—don't pity Yukimura Seiichi. The son of God deserves all praise, not as a tragic figure, but as a king who always faces challenges head-on. Even in the darkest moments, he never gave up on his tennis journey."
Risa slowly raised her head, her pupils reflecting the dim light of the sky. "They said, don't pity his past, don't feel sorry for what he went through. Replace sighs with applause, applaud his perseverance, and cheer for his success."
Yukimura didn't speak, resting his elbows on his bent knees, waiting for her to continue.
I've seen you many times.
The wind rustled through the treetops.
"It wasn't at Rikkai University, it wasn't in the hospital, and it wasn't on the sports field... but in my original world."
“You must find this absurd, right?” She smiled wryly. “I know everything about you, from the day you were born until you joined U-17 two years ago, even the weather on the day you first met Sanada…”
"I've watched many of your matches, and every single one of them is breathtaking and unforgettable. The one that moved me the most was the World Cup semi-final two years ago, when you played against Tezuka."
Her speech grew faster and faster, as if she would never have the courage to stop:
"When you shake off all the gloom and cheer purely for scoring... that smile is brighter than any trophy."
"You, who have experienced confusion and struggle, and who have risen from the ashes to become a phoenix. Gentle, strong, shining, spirited, and heading towards a bright future... you are so captivating and inspiring."
For about a minute, neither of them spoke.
So, in your original world...
His voice was icy and piercing, sending a shiver down Risa's spine. The boy stood backlit, his face hidden in shadow, only his voice as cold as the sea on a winter night:
"My pain, my victories, even my tears, were all just 'part of the plot'?"
This question was like a sharp blade, piercing Risa's heart and instantly bringing her to her senses. She saw his hand, hanging by his side, trembling slightly.
(What am I doing...?)
A chill ran down my spine.
What was she doing just now? What exactly did she do?
She actually spoke to a living, breathing person in a condescending tone, explaining his "character setting" and dissecting his pain and loneliness that should have been unknown to others.
That's disgusting.
They're practically no different from those obsessive, stalker fans.
Those words of "understanding" that slipped out, those reflections on "another world," all turned into sharp blades, repeatedly torturing her reason in her mind.
This is not a romantic encounter across dimensions, but the worst kind of offense.
The pain, glory, and growth in those "stories" are, for the boy before her, real experiences of life. She is like a voyeur who has intruded into his life, arrogantly displaying the secrets she has stolen.
The belated guilt tormented her, and her body trembled uncontrollably.
She gripped the sleeves of her yukata tightly, but she still couldn't stop.
“Answer me, Matsuno.”
"When you look at me, what exactly do you see?"
Light and shadow shone from behind him, and his shadow fell over her, engulfing her.
"Are you looking at a real person, or a 'character' you've imagined?"
When he looked down at her, his eyes were as dark and unfathomable as an abyss.
It wasn't because I felt inferior or angry that I was "an anime character," but simply because I wanted her to answer this pointed question.
"I......"
Her voice choked.
The boy so close to her suddenly overlapped with the figure on the screen, reborn from the ashes. Those details that she had once considered mere "settings" now turned into tiny shards of glass, seeping into her lungs with every breath.
Her vision gradually blurred, and warm tears welled up uncontrollably in her eyes, but she held them back, refusing to let them fall.
Yukimura froze. He stared into those wet eyes, his expression slowly hardening.
"The answer seems obvious."
His voice turned completely cold, and his eyes became unfamiliar.
Risa gasped, a nameless fear washing over her, as if if she didn't say some things now, she would never have the chance again.
“That’s not how it is, Yukimura.”
She hesitated for a moment, then reached out and grabbed his sleeve.
“I know this may seem absurd to you, but in my original world, you were really just—” She paused, as if choosing her words carefully, “a story, a character.”
"When I met you at the Clock Tower Square that day, I was just recalling past memories. One second I was at the scene of a car accident, and the next second I saw you. I thought it was a hallucination... Because if a virtual character is standing in front of you, anyone would think it's hysteria. So, I did something very rude to you."
The sounds of laughter and chatter from a crowd drifted from afar, rising and falling like the rhythm of a heartbeat.
"And now?" Yukimura asked her, "Have I been 'brought back to life'?"
"You are more authentic now than ever before. You are like a traditional Chinese ink painting, which appears as a tranquil landscape from afar, but upon closer inspection reveals the sword marks hidden within the brushstrokes."
Her hand slid down his sleeve. Tentatively and carefully, she took his hand and pressed it against her heart.
"Can you feel it? This heartbeat... isn't from admiration for the 'character,' but from longing for 'Yukimura Seiichi' as a person..."
"The Yukimura Seiichi on the screen wouldn't touch me like that, wouldn't frown because of my tears, and certainly wouldn't stand in a long line to buy me candied apples just because I said I wanted some..."
"To me now, you are more vivid than the 'character,' and you make me feel more overwhelmed. Rather than the flawless 'son of God' in the story, I prefer to see you on the court, cheering for victory like an ordinary person. I also like to see you smile, get angry, or be jealous."
Yukimura looked at her, his eyes calm.
Her eyes were beautiful, shimmering with light, more captivating than black pearls bathed in water. When she gazed at someone, her eyes held so much tenderness. They were delicate, alluring, and could effortlessly steal one's soul.
He thought to himself that even if she was lying to him at this moment, he would accept it.
But the intense throbbing under his palm didn't seem like a lie.
Thump—thump—
When he looked at her like that, that part of him beat even faster.
The blush on her earlobes spread, and her slender neck was also tinged with a light red.
"When I learned that you had overcome that dark period and become a high school student, I breathed a sigh of relief and even felt fortunate..."
She met Yukimura's gaze and stared into those captivating eyes.
An overwhelming sense of unease welled up inside her, and she suddenly choked up. She swallowed several times, which only made her voice more hoarse.
"...I'm so glad I met you when you were seventeen."
A dampness crept into my eyes without my noticing, wetting my eyelashes and blurring my vision.
When scalding tears welled up in her eyes, Risa's first reaction was shock. She let go of his hand and frantically tried to wipe them away.
The brain frantically sends out "Don't cry" commands, but this body is too prone to crying; the tear glands and respiratory system simply won't cooperate.
Through her blurred vision, Yukimura's face was slightly distorted by tears. She saw his jawline tighten suddenly, his Adam's apple bob for a moment, and the fingertips of his hand, which was suspended in mid-air, tremble almost imperceptibly.
The next second, a warm palm touched her cheek, and the fingertips wiped away the moisture from the corner of her eyes.
"Even my most disheveled state in the hospital was seen." His voice trailed off as if in a sigh.
It felt like there was a wad of wet cotton stuck in her throat, each swallow bringing a stinging, aching pain. She opened her mouth, but could only manage broken, breathy sounds.
"I'm sorry..." The broken apology, mixed with saltiness, entered his lips and teeth.
She frantically raised her hand, trying to wipe away the mess on her face, but only let the tears flow more freely. Through the gaps in her fingers, she saw Yukimura's expression, which was inscrutable.
I just wanted to clear up the misunderstanding, and I just didn't want to deceive him, but things always turned out the way they wanted.
“I shouldn’t have said those offensive things. Please… just consider it an unpleasant dream and forget about it.”
Before she could finish speaking, she staggered back a step and turned to run away.
The next second, her wrist was encircled by a warm palm, and a strong force pulled her into an embrace. The ginkgo-colored light magnified before her eyes, and a refreshing scent instantly enveloped her.
The tip of his nose collided with the muscle lines below his collarbone, and his true scent filled his nasal cavity.
"How could you say something so touching?"
Yukimura's heart was pounding. He held her so tightly, as if he wanted to meld her into his body.
Risa froze in his arms.
After a long pause, she finally managed to stammer out, "Don't you... think I've overstepped my bounds? That it's disgusting, even terrifying?"
Her voice was hoarse and muffled, muffled by her clothes, carrying a sob, a sense of grievance and pitifulness.
“In my original world, everything about you—Rikkai’s three-peat, the U17 victory and defeat, even your promise to Sanada…—was just ‘plot’ in a story.”
Yukimura wasn't surprised; he simply gave a soft "hmm."
"Do you feel it's unfair?" Her voice trembled. "Your glory, pain, struggle... are just topics of conversation for the audience over there."
“A little,” he admitted frankly, his violet-blue eyes as deep as the sea in the night, “but I care more about something else.”
"......What?"
"you."
He loosened his embrace slightly. His fingertips traced her damp cheek as he gazed into her eyes.
His dark eyes trembled in the dim night.
"Whether in the story or in reality, just the thought that you are always watching over me makes me so happy that I don't know what to do."
His hoarse voice, like a babbling brook, entered her ears and flowed down her cochlea to her heart.
Her slender shoulders trembled uncontrollably.
I anticipated being disliked and pushed away.
But she never imagined that he would accept her like this, gently saying things that broke down her defenses.
Like condensation from the sweltering heat of a summer night, it rolled down my cheeks without warning.
The professional skills learned while acting are rendered ineffective in the face of physiological instincts. Instead, the act of holding back makes breathing become broken and tears flow more rapidly.
That was so embarrassing.
Risa bit her lower lip hard, but couldn't stop the sobs that escaped her throat.
Where is the ease and confidence of an award-winning actress in this state? She looks more like... a real high school girl crying over a bittersweet unrequited love.
"I'm sorry, I wish I had found out sooner."
Yukimura pulled her closer, drawing her into his embrace.
"Keeping such a secret and bearing the unease alone... it must be very hard, right?"
Risa froze for a second, her dark pupils widening slightly.
She vaguely heard the sound of cracks, followed by a tremendous collapse. Her whole body suddenly trembled violently, and she hugged him back even tighter, her fingers digging deep into his back.
"Hmm..."
The long-suppressed cries finally broke free of the cage.
All decorum and restraint crumbled at this moment.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
