45
"--Bang!"
The sharp sound of twisting metal mixed with the clamor of the crowd behind her, yet she didn't even flutter an eyelash. Broken glass bounced and splashed at her feet, crushing them under her high heels. A driver shouted "Call an ambulance" in a distorted voice, but she simply raised her hand to her forehead and squinted to avoid the light.
The riot surged from the corner of the street like a tide, but she was too lazy to even glance at it.
"Are you going to make a mess here? The teacher will give me trouble." When you go out without wearing sunglasses, the glaring light source makes your eyes feel uncomfortable - this is basically a problem for people with light-colored irises.
Prolonged exposure to strong light can cause squinting, tearing, headaches, and other symptoms. Going out without sunglasses on sunny days can make her feel irritated by her fear of light.
She is not a person with a good personality and temper, she just pretends to be good.
Not angry, good-tempered? It's simply a matter of not killing. When no one's around, any violent tendencies are directed at the cursed spirits. His gentle voice and smiley face are just a cover for his abnormality. People would even prefer the approachable, gentle, and bright-faced monsters to the eerie, expressionless humans.
Hipper's ideal human persona was gradually being cracked by the erosion of emptiness. She could sense her control over her emotions slipping away, and it took more effort than before to maintain a smile on her face.
Some inexplicable and trivial things can become a fuse to ignite her reason.
She was gradually losing control of her body.
Hold back
Tianti gently pinched her wrist bone, passed his fingertips through her fingers, hooked them, and led her forward.
The crowd at the intersection was like iron filings attracted by a magnet, everyone rushing in the other direction. She went against the flow, her shoulder brushing against hurried strangers again and again.
The crowd was like a pot of boiling asphalt, sticky, hot, and emitting sickening heat.
In her ears was the buzzing sound of countless mouths opening and closing - the quarrels on the phone, the shrill voices of children, the gossip of passers-by - all mixed together, forming a sharp cone, digging into her temples.
Perfume, sweat, the grease of cheap fried food—all sorts of smells battled in her nostrils. Her stomach churned, and she could even taste the rust deep in her throat, like chewed cheek flesh.
His fingers spasmed unconsciously, his nails digging deep into his palms, but this little pain could not suppress the magma surging in his blood vessels.
The muscles at the back of my neck were stretched like iron chains, my teeth clenched so tightly that a crackling sound emanated from beneath my cheekbones. My skin felt like it was being gnawed by millions of ants, every inch of it screaming: Tear this apart!
Every sound, every touch, was like pouring sulfuric acid on her tense nerves.
For the third time, someone passing by brushed against her skirt.
A man passing by on the left bumped her with his elbow without even saying sorry.
My arm was suddenly scratched by the sharp corner of a passerby's backpack, and my skin felt a burning pain.
The pain shattered a piece of Hipper's sanity. She stopped and turned back stiffly to stare at the young man wearing headphones, who was not paying attention to anything around him but whose eyes were glued to his mobile phone.
The flickering sunlight cut crisscross scars on the retina, and everyone's face was distorted in this light. She stood in this sunlight, the flames under her skin almost burning her to ashes.
Tianti didn't know when he let go of his hand, but he didn't stop him and didn't make a sound.
She wanted to tear apart these twisted things, these debris that kept shaking in her vision and disturbing her emotions.
The fingers moved unnaturally, as if forcibly manipulated by some twisted force. One by one, they slowly rose from their sides. The knuckles twisted with a subtle "clicking" sound, as if broken glass were stuck in the joints, and every movement was accompanied by a stiff pain.
The pupils contracted violently in the scarlet eye sockets, fixed on the man's back like a lens focusing.
The edges of her vision had blurred into black mist, but the shadow that offended her was blindingly clear—she could see the other person's neck hidden under the hair, which was the fatal part.
The world collapsed into this one point, and her sight was focused on his fragile neck.
The breathing became long and drawn out without anyone noticing; it was the prelude to the beast adjusting its breathing to enter the hunting state.
The throbbing of her heartbeat pounded in her eardrums, one beat after another, like the beating of a drum before a battle. Only when her knuckles were stretched to pale edges did she slowly exhale.
The light was about to turn red, and as if sensing being watched, the young man stopped and turned to look behind him.
At that moment, she smiled.
He couldn't see himself, but she could see him clearly.
This is human.
Do not kill.
At that moment, she crashed into a gust of wind——
The wind blew from all directions, carrying with it the clear air unique to late summer. As it blew, it extinguished the fire burning in her chest.
The anger suddenly dissipated, like a balloon popped by a needle. She even chuckled: it turned out that what was suffocating her was not the crowd pushing her, but the scream that was stuck in her throat and could not be shouted out.
Hipper put down his hands and strode forward, stepping onto the crosswalk bricks at the last second when the light turned green.
She couldn't do it. Screaming was too undignified and this way of venting didn't suit her aesthetic.
But she doesn't have much time left.
But there are still many things to do.
"You won't stop me?"
You will stop
Someone is watching you.
“…”
The high heels were like two small silver hammers, chiseling against the smooth floor tiles, the sound so crisp and sharp that it was almost shrill. The stride was as precise as if measured with a ruler, the heel touching the ground first, then slowly pressing down the forefoot - as if even the sound of the footsteps was declaring: Don't come near me.
His shoulders were slightly hunched, his spine tensed into a straight line, as if the slightest relaxation would burn him from the surrounding body heat. His elbows were pressed against his ribs, his fingertips curled, as if ready to block any sudden touch.
Someone brushed past her sleeve, and she immediately turned sideways, letting the hem of her skirt draw a sharp arc - like a knife blade avoiding a stain.
She is extremely sensitive to the distance between people around her, and even actively creates spatial deterrence to force others to avoid her.
This oppressive feeling made her body seem to be wrapped in an invisible layer of static electricity when she walked, causing all pedestrians passing by her to unconsciously turn away and retract their swinging arms.
Every breath was tinged with the scent of a stranger's perfume, and every friction of clothing felt like sandpaper scraping against my nerves.
A man behind her raised his hand to check his watch, his cufflinks almost brushing against her hair—
She suddenly quickened her pace, the hair on the back of her neck standing up, as if she was not avoiding a person, but a red-hot iron.
As if she could no longer bear the endless flow of people, she quickened her pace and moved through them, her shoulders never actually touching anyone, like a shadow passing through the fog, without even a drop of water touching her.
Only after turning into a deserted alley and the sound of her heels finally slowed did she allow her shoulders to slump a bit. But her fingertips continued to unconsciously stroke the fabric, her knuckles turning white from pressing against the ground.
The alley swallowed up all the light. The moment my forearm touched the wall, I felt the graininess of gravel and aged grime rubbing against my skin. A raised brick beneath my palm poked at my wrist bone, and the pain became an anchor to my sanity. In the alley, long without sunlight, the surface of the wall felt like slime, a chill seeping from my fingertips.
The throbbing of her temples created a buzzing sensation in her ears, like listening to the world through frosted glass. Every time she took a deep breath, dust with a tinny smell rose in her throat. The clamor outside the alley, approaching and distancing, felt like two separate worlds, the line between light and darkness mirroring her own crumbling will.
In her current state, she looked like an unstable bomb, poised to explode at any moment. That would be a very difficult situation to resolve. If she broke the line she had adhered to for decades, she would probably... become immersed in the bloodbath and lose consciousness.
The teacher will kill her.
Yes, definitely.
Because he is right behind me.
Hard-soled leather shoes made a sticky squelch in the damp alley, and each step felt like stepping on blood-soaked cotton. The shadow arrived before the real body, its shadow completely covering her. The tip of the man's leather shoe gently touched her heel—a precise match, as if it had been measured countless times. Too close, the exposed skin behind her could feel his heat, and his breath crept up the back of her neck, two beats behind hers, as if deliberately adjusting to her physiological rhythm.
"You look like you really need the teacher's help?"
The man's palm completely covered her right shoulder, his index finger stuck in the depression at the end of her collarbone, and the other four fingers slowly tightened like an iron hoop.
"Your date seems to have messed you up. He's quite incompetent."
His tone was light, his thumb gently stroked his shoulder blade, and his fingertips tapped regularly on Hipper's collarbone, as if hinting at something vaguely.
"Didn't your teacher teach you? Don't hide when you feel wronged. It will only make you worse."
He paused, then put his other arm around the girl's shoulders, keeping her whole body within his reach.
"Let's rely on the teacher for a bit, huh?"
“…”
His gaze passed over the scattered hair on the back of her neck, the suddenly narrowing curve of her waistline, and his line of sight went down to the depression of her tailbone, where it paused for a moment, and was finally cut off by the shadow hidden under the cloth.
His gaze remained fixed on her back, longer than the normal social gaze duration, but... no one saw the wanton aggression in his eyes at this moment.
The girl didn't respond, her breathing gradually calming down.
How stubborn, he thought.
It’s true, it’s not easy to cheat.
Hipper's emotions had stabilized. If he was seen in such a state of disgrace, he would definitely make a fuss and ask him to leave immediately. It would be better to leave on his own than to be chased away.
He released the hand that was holding the girl's shoulders and was about to step back and leave.
Without any warning, the girl fell backwards. She knew someone would catch her, so she relaxed her body and let gravity pull her.
Like a trust test.
Gojo Satoru opened his arms to catch her, holding her in his embrace, tightening his grip inch by inch.
"How rare! Does the little genius need the teacher's comfort?"
Hipper covered her eyes to prevent him from seeing, but the emotions surging in her eyes had not subsided. Even if she showed weakness, she had to hide her own unbearableness.
"teacher……"
Her voice was a little hoarse.
"Um?"
Gojo Satoru lowered his head and pressed it against her neck, rubbing it.
"……nothing."
She suppressed the question that was about to come out of her mouth.
"Just tell me, don't be so secretive."
You will be angry.
"Thank you, Mr. Gojo."
Every time you get closer, you extend the countdown of the final life of a human named Hipper.
〖……〗
Time is running out.
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