Chapter 11
I practically ran out of the quiet alley.
My heart felt blocked and my eyes were sore. The tranquility that I had accumulated with great difficulty in the flower shop was shattered, and was replaced by even more overwhelming grievances and fatigue.
Not flower arrangement?
Why does he do that?!
What does he know?!
He will always deny and always be superior!
Always trample on other people's world in his own way!
These thoughts swirled in my head like boiling water, leaving me no time to pay attention to the road conditions. I just wanted to get out of here quickly, away from him. With my head lowered, I hurriedly turned onto the relatively wide side road, hoping to hail a car and get home quickly.
Just then—
“Beep, beep, beep—!!!”
A sharp, piercing, and warning motorcycle horn exploded beside me like thunder. The sound was so close, carrying a terrifying atmosphere of impending death.
My hair stood on end! I raised my head suddenly!
I saw a heavy motorcycle with an exaggerated shape running at high speed, like a black beast out of control, almost scraping the edge of the sidewalk, rushing towards me!
The distance was so close that you could even see the rider's frightened eyes under his helmet and the tiny pieces of gravel kicked up by the wheels!
My mind is blank!
My mind was in a state of confusion and I lost control of my body.
I could only watch helplessly as the huge metal creature came crushing towards me with the whistling sound of the wind!
This thought instantly seized all consciousness, and the shadow of death loomed coldly!
At this critical moment——
"careful--!!!"
A voice filled with extreme fear sounded behind him!
Then, a huge, irresistible force suddenly grabbed my arm. The force was so strong that it pulled me backward with a desperate madness!
"Ah!" I screamed, my body falling backward completely out of control, my back slamming heavily into a warm, solid chest. The immense force of the impact caused both me and the person behind me to stumble several steps before we could even manage to steady ourselves!
The next second——
"call out--!!!"
That crazy motorcycle roared with a heart-pounding roar, almost brushing against where I had just been standing. The strong wind it brought up lifted my skirt and hair violently, scratching my cheeks painfully.
The shock has just subsided.
My heart was beating wildly in my chest, almost bursting out.
A wave of fear washed over me like an icy tide, leaving my hands and feet cold and trembling slightly. I could even clearly smell the pungent smell of motorcycle exhaust, reminding me how close I had come to death.
Who is…?
Still startled, he subconsciously raised his head, trying to see his savior clearly—
What caught my eye was a handsome face that was so familiar to me, yet seemed so strange at this moment!
Atobe Keigo.
He was holding me tightly.
One arm was still tightly wrapped around my waist, while the other hand was firmly grasping my arm. His chest was heaving violently, and his rapid breathing with hot breath sprayed on the top of my head.
That handsome face that was always calm and elegant, full of control over everything, now only had a sense of fear after surviving a disaster.
His thin lips were tightly pursed, the lines of his lips stretched so tightly that they were almost bloodless. His eyes were filled with lingering fear, lingering terror, and a huge sense of relief at having regained what he had lost.
His eyes were fixed on me, as if he was afraid that I would disappear in the blink of an eye.
The arm he had wrapped around my waist was even trembling slightly. The subtle trembling was clearly transmitted to me through the thin fabric, carrying with it an unmistakable fear that came from the depths of my soul.
He held me so tightly, so tightly that I could barely breathe. His warmth filtered through the fabric of my clothes, dispelling the coldness from my body, but also bringing with it a strange and intense throbbing sensation.
Time seemed to stand still at this moment.
The clamor around us faded away, leaving only the sound of each other's violent heartbeats roaring in my ears - mine and his.
I stared at him blankly, seeing the unprecedented panic and fear on his face, and the undisguised, intense worry in his eyes.
My mind is in a mess.
How could it be him? Why is he here?
Was he just... afraid? Afraid of losing...
At this moment when the air seemed to freeze, filled with uncertainty and subtle throbbing—
"Puff—cough cough!"
An extremely abrupt cough, as if someone was choking on saliva, broke the strange atmosphere.
Almost at the same time, the two of them looked stiffly in the direction of the sound.
Not far away, I saw Yuushi Ozuki pushing his glasses with one hand and covering his mouth with the other. His face was full of shock, wondering "Who am I, where am I, and what am I seeing?", and his eyes were filled with a sense of absurdity, wondering "Is the plot developing too fast?"
He was obviously passing by and witnessed the thrilling and dramatic scene just now.
Oshitari's gaze swept back and forth between the two people hugging each other tightly, and finally stopped on Atobe's handsome face, which was still panic-stricken, his arms still shaking, but he was holding the person tightly. The eyes behind the lenses were filled with a smile that he could hardly hold back.
He cleared his throat and broke the strange silence with an extremely strange tone full of teasing and inquiry:
"Uh...that..."
"Did I... miss some important plot?"
"Isn't this speed... a little... uh, fast forward?"
He glanced meaningfully at Atobe's arms, which were tightly around his waist.
Inuzaka's words were like a needle, instantly puncturing the stagnant bubble filled with life and death speed and instinctive reaction.
Atobe suddenly came to his senses and realized that he was still holding the girl tightly, and Yuushi Oshitari was looking at them with a look that said "I understand, I understand everything."
A huge feeling of embarrassment, shame and the awkwardness of having one's thoughts seen through suddenly rushed over my head.
His handsome face, which had been pale just a moment ago, suddenly turned red, even his ears were dyed red!
The arms around his waist loosened suddenly as if they were burned, and he even took half a step back in embarrassment because the movement was too fast and stiff.
"Oshizuka! What nonsense are you talking about!" Atobe's voice was filled with unprecedented panic and anger. His gorgeous voice even changed its tone. He tried to use anger to cover up the chaos in his heart. "I...I just...just..."
He said "just" for a long time, looking at me who was still a little dazed with a complicated and inquiring look, then looked at Yuushi Ozuki's expression that said "keep making it up", and finally uttered an unconvincing sentence:
"Just... just happened to be passing by!"
Ozuki Yuushi pushed his glasses up, his mouth curled up in a meaningful, provocative arc: "Ah, I just happened to be passing by, and just happened to be a hero saving the damsel in distress?"
"Atobe, your timing and skill in 'passing by' are truly..." He deliberately dragged out his words, "so gorgeous it's breathtaking!"
"Oshizuka Yuushi! Shut up!" Atobe roared in utter rage, completely humiliated. There was no trace of the composure of the Hyotei Emperor in his expression. He looked like a cat whose tail had been stepped on and whose fur stood on end.
I stood there, and the trembling, burning strength and touch of him still seemed to linger on my waist and arms.
Looking at Atobe's rare, flustered and embarrassed look, and then looking at Inuzaka's teasing eyes, the shock, grievance and anger just now seemed to be replaced by a more complicated and more indescribable emotion.
Something in my heart seemed to loosen quietly after the violent heartbeat.
I stood there, the evening breeze blowing through my hair, but it couldn't blow away the tangled mess in my heart.
Atobe had his back to me, his broad shoulders rising and falling slightly, as if he was trying to calm the aftermath of the shocking incident and sort out the overwhelming and indescribable emotions.
Oshitari's teasing "fast forward" remarks were like a stone thrown into a calm lake. Although it aroused Atobe's anger, it also invisibly broke some kind of stagnant ice, replacing the hostility and embarrassment in the air with a more subtle and more difficult to define atmosphere.
Angry? Of course.
The grievance and anger caused by the florist's inexplicable denial have not dissipated.
Forgive? It seems too easy.
All the difficulties, humiliations, cold "charity" and the biting words "you don't deserve it" in the past are like thorns piercing my heart.
But just now at that critical moment, he was the one who desperately pulled me back from the hands of death.
The trembling of the arms, the violent rise and fall of the chest, and the deep relief in the eyes are all so real and so impactful.
Should I be angry or forgive?
This thought kept tugged at me, and I fell into an unprecedented tangle. Looking at his tense back, I could even sense that he was going through some kind of intense inner storm.
Finally, Atobe slowly turned around.
The blush on his face had not yet completely faded, and there was still a suspicious hint of pink at the base of his ears, but his deep eyes had once again gathered a calm light.
He no longer avoided my gaze, but looked straight at me with a complicated look, showing lingering regret, suppressed tension, and unquestionable seriousness.
"Wist Mountain Hidden." He spoke, his voice no longer flamboyant and ostentatious, but rather a deliberately lowered, slightly hoarse steady voice, as if he was afraid of disturbing something. "Let's... talk."
He paused, as if weighing his words, and finally added clearly, "Let's sit down and talk."
He glanced at the elegant and quiet coffee shop next to him and signaled with his eyes.
Almost as soon as he finished speaking, Oshitari immediately interjected with great tact, with an undisguised, playful smile on his face that said, "I've finally waited for this day," and pushed his glasses up:
"Ah, that's right! You two really, really, really need to 'sit down and have a good chat'!"
He deliberately emphasized the words “have a good chat”, his eyes scanning meaningfully between the two of you, “Misunderstandings are things that, if they accumulate too much, can easily become the Himalayas. It would be better for everyone if we move on from them sooner rather than later.”
He tactfully took a step back and waved his hand nonchalantly, "I won't be a light bulb... ahem, a distraction. You guys take your time and make sure you talk it through! I have other things to do, so I'm leaving now!"
After saying this, Oshitari seemed to have accomplished some important mission. With a satisfied smile of "mission accomplished", he turned around and walked away, his steps so light that he seemed to be able to fly.
“…”
Atobe and I fell into a brief silence at the same time.
The hints and teasing in Oshitari's words once again tinged the air with an awkward pink hue. Atobe's ears seemed to turn even redder. He coughed uncomfortably and returned his gaze to me, questioning and with a subtle hint of nervousness.
Looking at Oshitari's quickly disappearing back, he then looked at Atobe Keigo in front of him, who had lost some of his imperial aura and looked a little clumsy and nervous.
His words just now, "Let's sit down and talk," were filled with a seriousness that was almost pleading, a tone I had never felt from him before.
All right……
Take a deep breath and suppress the complex emotions surging in your heart.
Just consider it as... repaying him for saving my life just now.
Give him a chance to speak.
Listen to what he really wants to say.
I nodded slightly, the movement was light but clear enough. Without any extra words, I just took a step and walked towards the coffee shop he pointed to.
The moment Atobe saw her nod, a glimmer of relief seemed to flash in his eyes, and then he quickly followed her, walking a little behind her.
He no longer carried the oppressive feeling of being in control of everything like before. Instead, he seemed a little cautious, as if he was afraid of scaring away the butterflies resting on the branches.
Soothing piano music flows in the coffee shop, and the air is filled with the aroma of roasted coffee beans and the sweet scent of desserts.
The waiter led us to a relatively quiet corner seat by the window. Sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting dappled shadows on the table. Once we were seated, a subtle silence fell once again.
The waiter brought the menu and Atobe gestured for me to order first.
I didn't have much of an appetite, so I just ordered a matcha latte.
Atobe ordered a cup of black coffee without sugar or milk.
The wait for drinks seemed incredibly long. I lowered my head, my fingertips unconsciously rubbing the cool tabletop, my gaze fixed on the people passing by the window, but not on him.
I could feel his gaze on me, filled with inquiry, hesitation and a strong desire to talk.
Finally, the waiter brought the drinks, and the exquisite bone china cups made a slight sound when they were placed on the table.
Atobe picked up the cup of black coffee, but didn't drink it immediately.
His slender fingers stroked the warm wall of the cup, as if trying to draw some courage.
"Kiyama," he began, his voice low and clear, each word sounding as if carefully considered. "I know that nothing I say can immediately undo the damage I've done to you."
"Those...difficulties, those so-called 'reckonings,' those...hurtful words."
He uttered the words "hurtful words" with difficulty, and his Adam's apple rolled.
"That sentence 'You don't deserve it' in the restaurant..." He paused for a long time, as if trying to suppress his surging emotions, before continuing, "...is the stupidest and most asshole thing I've ever said in my life! Barely a doubt!"
His voice was filled with painful self-blame, and he looked at me with burning eyes:
"That wasn't my intention! I... I was just... infuriated by your complete denial of me, your interpretation of all my actions as 'charity' and 'condescension'."
"There has never been a person like you who can make me... make me..."
He seemed to be unable to find the right words to describe the feeling of frustration and loss of control, which eventually turned into a self-deprecating sigh, "...It makes me like a madman who has lost his mind!"
He put down his coffee cup and clasped his hands on the table, his knuckles turning white from the force. His eyes were filled with unprecedented confusion and an almost clumsy sincerity:
"I admit that at first on the tennis court, your words 'if you're not good at it, practice more' and your sudden walk away did make me feel... offended and belittled."
"I'm used to being in control and being the center of attention, and your disregard made me uncomfortable. A large part of the subsequent 'reckoning' was due to my discomfort at being challenged, and my urge to get you to look me in the eye."
"Taking the milk off the shelves... is revenge. I want to see you... uneasy."
"I rejected your application in the Student Union... because I wanted to use my power to force you to submit. I wanted you to... come to me."
"Giving you money, giving you a Band-Aid..." He smiled bitterly, "I know this method is stupid and hurts your self-esteem."
"But I… I didn't really know what else to do. I just wanted to… do something."
"Make amends? Or... prove that I'm not the scumbag you imagined, a bully."
He spoke faster and faster, as if he wanted to pour out all the chaotic emotions and motives that had been pent up in his heart and had never been expressed to anyone.
Those behaviors that once made me extremely angry, when he analyzed them with regret and confusion, actually revealed an almost ridiculous clumsiness, with a bit of the awkward thoughts of a teenager.
"Until..." Atobe's voice suddenly dropped, with an indescribable regret, "Seeing you... crying... because of what I said... then..."
He took a deep breath, as if he had exhausted all his strength:
"I just realized what a jerk I was."
"Those so-called 'reckonings' and 'revenges' not only didn't help me win anything back, but instead pushed you further away and caused you to suffer so much injustice."
"Kiyama..." He raised his head, his eyes no longer showing any trace of his former arrogance, only heavy regret and a frankness that was almost pleading. "I apologize for all my childish, asshole-like behavior that hurt you."
"I'm sorry. I'm really...I'm sorry."
He lowered his eyes slightly, his thick eyelashes casting a small shadow under his eyes, and his voice trembled slightly.
"I know that a simple 'sorry' is too light. I have no right to ask for your immediate forgiveness."
"But... can I..."
He raised his head again, his eyes filled with a hope that was almost desperate. Cautiously and with an unprecedented sense of uncertainty, he asked softly:
"Give me a chance."
“Let’s get to know each other again.”
As he finished speaking, only the gentle sound of the piano remained in the café. Sunlight quietly streamed onto the table, illuminating his handsome face, which had lost all its pride, leaving only a trace of apprehension and sincerity.
Holding the cup of warm matcha latte, feeling the warmth from the cup wall with my fingertips, my heart felt like it was hit hard by something, causing a sour and unfamiliar ripple.
The pent-up anger and grievances seemed to begin to loosen quietly in the face of his clumsy but extremely frank analysis and the heavy "I'm sorry".
Reacquaintance?
Lifting my eyes, I met his, those filled with anticipation for judgment, yet also filled with hope. Time seemed to stretch infinitely at this moment.
The heavy apology and request that almost cut open the heart was like a stone thrown into a deep pool, causing ripples in the heart.
The piano music playing in the cafe seemed to become softer, and the sunlight fell on the table between us.
There was a moment of silence, my eyes sweeping over the almost untouched cup of inky black coffee in front of him.
The deep color was very similar to his previously furrowed brow and the low pressure emanating from his body.
It's too bitter.
Just like the taste of his previous clumsy and hurtful actions.
I considered it, then finally raised my eyes. I didn't immediately respond to his heavy "reacquaintance." Instead, I pointed at his coffee in a slightly awkward yet unusually natural tone.
"That... is too bitter."
My voice was quiet, but it carried a subtle concern that I wasn't even aware of. "Drink something sweet, and you'll feel better."
Atobe was slightly stunned, obviously not expecting my opening remarks to be like this.
He subconsciously followed my gaze and looked at his cup of black coffee.
"Why don't you..." I paused, seeming a little hesitant, but still said it, my voice as light as a feather, "...try the chocolate milk in the canteen?"
boom--!
Atobe felt a huge warm current rushing to his head in an instant, and his heart seemed to be hit by something neither light nor heavy, making it feel sore and soft.
Chocolate milk.
The thing he had childishly and vindictively ordered removed from the shelves because she had happily drunk in front of him and ignored him, the thing that had become the fuse of a ridiculous "war" between them,
Now, she actually brought it up on her own initiative?
And with an almost coaxing tone, wanting him to be happy?
Was she concerned about him? Did she want him to feel better?
The impact of this realization instantly sent a flood of warmth sweeping through his emotions.
His fingers gripping the coffee cup tightened slightly, his knuckles turning white from the force, but this time it wasn't out of anger, but rather a surge of unfamiliar emotion.
He could even clearly feel his ears starting to heat up uncontrollably again.
Just as Atobe was stunned and his mind went blank by the sudden impact of this "chocolate milk", I continued.
"Also," he frowned slightly, as if remembering something unpleasant, with a hint of dissatisfaction in his voice, "Don't let Oshitari take pictures of me all the time."
I raised my eyes and looked at him seriously. There was a hint of trouble and persistence in those beautiful almond-shaped eyes:
“What if I take an ugly photo?”
"I don't care about face..."
"Pfft—cough cough!" Atobe had just picked up the coffee cup to hide his pounding heart and hot cheeks, but was caught off guard by these words and choked.
The bitterness of black coffee instantly filled his mouth, but he seemed to taste a strange sweetness.
Secret photos...ugly photos...face...
She really knew that Oshitari was the "paparazzi" sent by him.
But she didn't accuse him angrily. Instead, she said it in a way that was a little bit girlish and complaining.
Even...are you a little concerned about your image in front of him?
Atobe put down the cup in a panic and wiped the corner of his mouth with a handkerchief, his face showing an unconcealable mix of embarrassment and joy. His eyes wandered, not daring to look me in the face, which was filled with accusations. His voice was a little hoarse with embarrassment:
"Ahem... that... I... I..." He almost called himself "Uncle" out of habit, but he bit back the words, "I will make Oshitari... stop."
He quickly added, his tone undeniable, "There will be absolutely no ugly photos."
After getting the assurance, I was still very satisfied and nodded slightly.
Looking at the gentle green in my cup, my long eyelashes drooped, casting a faint shadow on my fair cheeks. I stirred the matcha latte in my cup with a straw, making a subtle sound, as if brewing something more important.
After a few seconds, he raised his head again. This time, his eyes were no longer dodging, but he looked directly at Atobe's face, which was full of anticipation and nervousness, with unprecedented seriousness and frankness.
"Atobe Keigo," for the first time, she called his full name clearly and calmly. Her voice was soft, yet it carried a solemn power. "I didn't intentionally ignore you or look down on you..." She paused, as if searching for the most accurate expression. "It's true."
She bit her lip slightly, a small action that was a bit troubled and helpless, but it made Totoro's heart skip a beat.
"We...haven't really known each other properly." I said frankly, my eyes clear, "I've never...been in contact with someone like you..."
He seemed to be stuck for a moment, as if he was considering a less harsh adjective. Finally, with a hint of helplessness and a hint of slight complaints, he whispered:
"...gorgeous...young master?"
"I..." His voice softened, carrying a genuine, unrevealed vulnerability. "I'm not used to being so high-profile... and I don't quite understand... how to get along with... people like this."
Boom——
Atobe felt that the last dam of "pride" in his heart completely collapsed in the face of that sentence that was a little sarcastic but extremely honest!
turn out to be……
It turns out that the previous "ignorance" was not out of malice or contempt, but out of a lack of habit?
A kind of feeling of being at a loss as to what to do with the dazzling existence of the "Gorgeous Young Master"?
An instinctive avoidance of "high profile"?
This realization, like a strong light, instantly illuminated all the accumulated confusion and puzzlement in his heart.
Those "ignorances" that made him angry and out of control now have a completely new interpretation that makes him sad and regretful.
He was not looked down upon.
He simply broke into her world in a way that she was completely unfamiliar with and even instinctively resisted.
And his clumsy "settlement" and "declaration" with a strong presence, in her view, were probably just more high-profile interferences that made her want to escape even more.
"Kiriyama..." Atobe Keigo's voice trembled slightly.
He took a deep breath and tried to make his voice sound gentler and less "flowery":
"I see."
"Before... my approach was wrong. I was too high-profile, too self-righteous, and didn't consider your feelings enough." He admitted with difficulty, each word filled with sincere reflection.
"We really need to get to know each other."
"Forget the previous 'emperors', forget the 'reckonings' and 'charities'."
He looked at me gently and firmly, with an almost pious promise:
"Let's start with a... not-so-gorgeous Atobe Keigo."
"One... wants to know what Kiriyamagakure likes, dislikes, what they are used to, and what they are not used to..."
"Ordinary students start."
"May I?"
He waited for my response with unprecedented patience and respect.
The sunlight filtered through the blinds, dancing across his serious profile, removing all sharp edges and leaving only a clumsy yet incredibly moving sincerity.
Looking at him like this, the last bit of ice in my heart seemed to melt quietly under his gaze.
I picked up the cup of warm matcha latte and took a sip. The sweet and slightly bitter taste slid through my throat, bringing a strange sense of calmness.
However, everyone's life should have its own roots and direction.
I don't need others to change my nature for me, nor am I a vine that needs to cling to, longing to climb up to the dazzling light.
So, under his anxious gaze, I sat up slightly and met his focused gaze as gently but clearly as possible.
"Atobe-san," his voice was calm and clear, with a clarity beyond his years, "Actually, there's no need to go too far."
Atobe was slightly stunned, obviously not expecting me to say that.
“Everyone’s personality and behavior are unique.”
I continued, tapping the tabletop lightly with my fingertips as if to emphasize an important point. "You have your own 'splendour'; it's part of you, the world you're accustomed to. You don't have to deliberately hide your own preferences and brilliance for me."
Seeing the surprise flashing in his eyes, I continued:
"Just like me, I'm used to being quiet and not used to being high-profile. That's me. We don't need to distort ourselves to please each other."
“Understanding each other’s differences and respecting each other’s boundaries may be much more important than forcing change.”
These words, like a gentle breeze, brushed away the last bit of burden and anxiety in Atobe's heart about "needing to completely change himself."
He looked at the understanding and tolerance in her clear eyes, and an indescribable warmth and a deeper respect welled up in his heart.
She didn't want him to change humbly, she understood and respected him as he was.
This clarity and open-mindedness moved him far more than any concession.
"However," he changed the subject, his tone taking on a hint of seriousness and an unquestionable sense of responsibility, his eyes becoming sharp, "Since Atobe-san is the student council president of Hyotei..."
I leaned forward slightly and looked directly into his gray-blue eyes:
"So, for the kind of vicious bullying incidents that Rie Tanaka encountered, I think this is where you should really invest your energy in making decisions and changes."
"Hyotei is your kingdom. You have a responsibility to make it not just a place with magnificent buildings and first-class facilities, but also a place that is safe, fair, and free from fear for all students."
"That's what real 'glam' is, isn't it?"
These words instantly elevated the personal emotional entanglement to a higher level of responsibility and commitment.
Wushanyin's vision and clarity were fully revealed at this moment.
Atobe's heart was hit hard by these words. He looked at the insistence on justice and the desire to protect the weak in my eyes, and then recalled his previous childish behavior around "liquidation" and "charity", and a sense of shame and responsibility arose spontaneously.
He nodded, his eyes filled with unprecedented solemnity:
"You are right. I will investigate this matter thoroughly."
"Give an explanation to Tanaka-san and all of Hyotei's students."
"Bullying will not be tolerated. This is my responsibility, and I will make sure it changes." His voice was filled with an unquestionable decisiveness, which was the attitude that a true Ice Emperor should have.
Seeing his promise, I finally smiled a light yet genuine smile of relief, as if I had solved a truly important problem.
Then his gaze fell back to the table, and that sense of relief returned. Gently stirring the slightly cooled matcha latte in the cup, his tone returned to its previous calm, with a sense of relief that the dust had settled:
"As for the other frictions we had before..."
She raised her head and gave him a frank smile that was a little relieved.
"Let's just write it off."
"Next time we meet, we'll just be ordinary classmates."
"Class A and Class H..." He tilted his head slightly, and said with a matter-of-fact sarcasm, "I don't think we'll see each other very often."
"However," I paused, met his focused gaze, and said sincerely and frankly, "Even if I did meet him, Atobe-san..."
"I will give you the respect you deserve."
Due respect.
These five words clearly defined the boundaries of our new relationship.
They are no longer enemies with swords drawn, nor are they "reacquaintances" with tentative intentions. Instead, they have returned to the most authentic and safest distance: ordinary classmates.
With understanding, with respect for each other's nature, and with clear boundaries.
When Atobe heard the clear words "ordinary classmate", a slight sense of loss flashed through his heart, but more of it was a deeper appreciation.
He understood that this was the most tolerant and sober way of reconciliation I could offer.
Don't force intimacy, don't deny the past, just let everything go back to zero and start again on your own path based on understanding and respect.
This was more in keeping with her character and more precious than any compensatory intimacy.
He picked up the cup of black coffee that had already gone cold, but did not drink it. Instead, he touched the edge of my cup of matcha latte with its cold wall, making a crisp "ding" sound.
"Okay," he said, his voice low and serious, with a new kind of calmness that had stripped away all glitz. "Let's write it off."
"Next time we meet, we'll just be ordinary classmates."
"Kiriyama-san..."
He paused slightly, your figure reflected in his eyes, and the corners of his mouth curled up in an arc that was no longer gorgeous and ostentatious, but full of sincerity and respect:
"Please give me more advice."
The sun filtered through the blinds, casting a warm band of light between them.
The air was filled with the lingering aroma of coffee and a silent understanding.
Those smoke-filled pasts, those tears of grievance and unwillingness, and those clumsy and hurtful temptations all seemed to be gently brushed away at this moment, along with the words "wipe the slate clean" and "ordinary classmates".
I picked up the phone, tapped the screen with my fingertips, and pushed the phone towards him with a faint, shallow smile on the corner of my mouth:
"Number."
"This time, it's to facilitate communication about the 'follow-up handling of campus bullying,' Student Council President." He emphasized the last few words with a touch of official sarcasm.
Atobe looked at the blank input box on the screen, then at the cunning and frank light in her eyes. The last bit of loss in his heart was replaced by a strange warmth.
He took out his expensive cell phone, quickly entered a number with his fingertips, saved it, and solemnly typed in three words -
Hidden in the Fog
Then he pressed the dial button.
A few seconds later, the screen of the mobile phone on the table lit up, and a strange number, but one that was inevitably connected to him, jumped into view.
He looked at the number, then at the silver-haired boy opposite him who had put away all his sharpness and had a gentle and calm look in his eyes.
A new starting point officially began with the most unexpected relationship between "ordinary classmates" and a connection quietly established on a mobile phone called "campus affairs".
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
