Chapter 20
The battle of the Kanto Tournament has finally come to an end. The Hyotei Academy led by Atobe, just as he declared before the game, overcame all obstacles and finally won the runner-up trophy of the Kanto Tournament, marching into the upcoming national competition with their heads held high.
This glory of being a king was also delivered to me through the two phone calls from Atobe every week.
"Well, I've reviewed the Student Union's proposal to optimize the club funding approval process. It's quite feasible. Regarding the rotation mechanism for club activity rooms, I think the schedule could be further refined..."
I was curled up on the lazy sofa in my room, flipping through the notebook at hand while analyzing the situation on the other end of the phone. On the other end of the phone, Atobe's deep and gorgeous voice responded clearly, with his usual control and efficiency.
The discussion of student union affairs has unknowingly become a peculiar "business as usual" bond between us.
After talking about business for a while, the topic naturally shifted to another key point that we all knew about: the preparations for the National Ancient Martial Arts Exchange Competition.
"The preliminary rules and invitation list for the competition have been finalized and will be officially announced next week."
Atobe's voice came through the receiver, with a subtle hint of taking credit. "The venue has been confirmed to be the Tokyo Budokan, and the time is tentatively scheduled for the end of next spring semester, avoiding the important competition period."
He paused and added, "Sanada Genichirō's name is also on the list of specially invited players."
"Really?" My voice instantly rose several degrees, my excitement nearly bursting through the screen. "Great! I can finally have a proper fight with him!"
The thought of being able to compete with the deputy director of Rikkai University, who has a calm aura and profound attainments in kendo, in a formal arena made the blood in my body seem to heat up.
Atobe on the other end of the phone seemed to chuckle, with a hint of teasing in his voice: "So impatient? It seems you think highly of Sanada."
"Of course." I didn't hesitate, my eyes shining. "We only saw each other briefly on the court last time. His composure and explosiveness definitely show that he's a top player. I really want to..."
"No." Before I could finish my words, I was interrupted by Atobe.
His voice had returned to its commanding, flowery tone, and his excuse was plausible. "The fireworks festival is this weekend. Didn't you promise Tanaka you'd wear a yukata? You're thinking of going to Kanagawa to fight someone while wearing something so restrictive? Huh?"
The "hmm" with a slightly rising ending tone carries a sense of self-righteousness and discipline.
"Uh..." I choked on his words. Thinking of Rie's enthusiastic way of arranging the yukata and my own lack of experience in such complicated dressing, I couldn't help but lose some momentum. "That's right."
"So," Atobe's voice sounded somewhat satisfied, with the confidence of someone who had a plan in hand, "Let's put off the sparring until the competition. This weekend, just relax and enjoy watching the fireworks."
He paused, as if casually mentioning, "The Atobe Foundation is one of the main sponsors of this fireworks display. They have reserved VIP seats along the Sumida River for the best viewing spots. I'll take you there when the time comes."
"Huh?" I froze, my fingers gripping the phone subconsciously tightening. "Are you going to the fireworks display, too?"
This kind of activity full of girlish romantic atmosphere is really hard to associate with the flamboyant Ice Emperor in front of us who always says "I am your master".
"Of course." Atobe's answer was matter-of-fact, even a bit condescending. "It's my responsibility to inspect the effectiveness of the sponsor's event and ensure that every investment is worth it."
His tone was calm, as if he was stating a normal business practice.
“…” I was speechless for a moment.
Well, the world of rich people is indeed different.
Inspecting the fireworks? Only Atobe Keigo could come up with such a justifiable and flawless excuse.
However, it seems nice to be able to get a great viewing spot without having to squeeze with the crowd.
"Okay, then thank you very much, Atobe-san, for generously providing the VIP seat. You must have worked hard on the inspection." I couldn't help but say it in a teasing tone, emphasizing the word "inspection".
There was silence on the other end of the phone for two seconds.
"...Yeah." Atobe responded, his voice a little deeper than before, and his emotions could not be heard. "I'll pick you up at 5 pm on Saturday. Remember to wear a yukata."
He spoke the last three words a little too quickly and immediately cut off the call.
“Beep…beep…beep…”
I blinked as I heard the busy tone on my phone.
Was he a little stuck just now?
Especially when it comes to "wearing a yukata"?
Putting down his phone, his fingertips unconsciously slid across the notebook spread out on his desk, where the student council proposal they'd just discussed was recorded. His mind involuntarily flashed back to Atobe's handsome yet always slightly arrogant face, and his serious words about "inspecting the sponsorship activities."
The way rich people inspect things is really unique.
However, thinking about being able to see the dazzling fireworks this weekend, not having to squeeze in the crowds, and even wearing a beautiful yukata, the slight regret in my heart about not being able to go to Sanada for a sparring match right away was also diluted by a faint, inexplicable anticipation.
At 5:00 PM on Saturday, the Atobe family's iconic black extended Bentley slid silently to a stop at my door like a precise clock. I just opened the door and was about to go out when I happened to meet Atobe Keigo's eyes as he opened the car door and stepped out.
The golden glow of the setting sun falls gently.
I was wearing a pale blue yukata, made of the finest silk, slightly cool to the touch. It was emblazoned with a subtle pattern of bamboo leaves, outlined in gold thread. It was the very design Rie had chosen for me after casually mentioning it in the car that day.
Her long hair was neatly braided and tied loosely behind her head, with a jade hairpin in the shape of a bamboo leaf and with a soft texture inserted diagonally.
She also put on extremely light makeup on her face, with only a thin layer of powder and some lip gloss. In the twilight, she looked simple and yet had a rare, elegant and refined charm.
Atobe's footsteps paused.
He stood by the car door, the setting sun illuminating his unparalleled handsome features. The moment he laid eyes on me, he seemed frozen in time. His usual flamboyance, his commanding sharpness, shattered like a lake surface after a stone was dropped, sending out ripples of something called "stunning."
Time seemed to stretch and freeze at this moment. I could even clearly see his jade-white ears quickly and clearly covered with a thin, extremely suspicious blush.
This reaction... is kind of funny.
I thought to myself, but I kept a calm face and nodded to him slightly: "Good afternoon, Atobe-san."
"...Yeah." Atobe seemed to have just come to his senses, his Adam's apple rolled slightly, and he looked away. His voice was a little lower than usual, with a hint of unnoticeable tension, "Get in the car."
He leaned sideways and opened the back door for me with a slightly stiff movement.
I thanked him, walked past him, and got into the car. The faint scent of roses filled the small space as I moved, crisp with a subtle sweetness, not overpowering, but remarkably clear.
Atobe then got in and closed the car door. The scent of roses seemed even clearer, lingering around his nose.
The car started smoothly and merged into the traffic flow.
The car was briefly quiet. Atobe seemed to be recovering from the shock of the moment, his gaze darting out the window. The lines of his face appeared somewhat cold and hard in the twilight, but the blush around his ears hadn't completely faded.
"Ahem," he finally spoke, breaking the silence. His voice had returned to its usual eloquent tone, but it seemed deliberately casual. "The perfume you're wearing is very special."
He asked casually, his fingertips unconsciously caressing the edge of the leather seat, "What perfume is it?"
"Oh, this one." I bent down and sniffed my wrist. "It's Bai Reid's 'Rose in No Man's Land'."
"The Rose of No Man's Land..." Atobe repeated the name in a low voice.
Rose is his favorite flower.
He has an almost obsessive sensitivity and fondness for the scent of roses, and the name of this perfume, with its imagery of loneliness and tenacity, inexplicably attracted him.
While I was looking out the window, Atobe quickly and discreetly took out his cell phone from his suit pocket and quickly entered the name of the perfume and the famous perfume review in the search bar.
The fragrance review that popped up on the screen struck him instantly like words carrying an electric current:
"You are the last rose in my barren wasteland."
His heart felt like it had been struck hard by something, and his fingers tightened around the phone, their tips turning slightly white. He almost hastily turned off the screen and stuffed the phone back into his pocket, his movements so quick and awkward that it was almost awkward.
The Barren Wasteland...The Last Rose...
This sentence, which carries a strong sense of loneliness and uniqueness, is like an invisible key, which unexpectedly opens a corner in his heart that is tightly wrapped in gorgeous appearances and even he himself has not fully seen it.
The inexplicable attention, the deliberately "business" calls, the uncontrollable excitement when he saw her in a yukata, the sudden cold depression that descended because she casually mentioned Sanada...
All the vague emotions that he had deliberately ignored or defined as "interesting", "curiosity" and "ministerial responsibility" became clear and hot at this moment because of this simple sentence, with the fragrance of roses and the sting of thorns.
He turned his head sharply to look out the window at the rapidly receding street scene, trying to use the cold glass to dispel the heat on his face and the turmoil in his heart. Deep in his eyes, a huge and unfamiliar wave of emotion surged, unprecedented in his life.
I knew nothing about this, but I just felt that the atmosphere in the car seemed more subtle than before, and Atobe's silhouette seemed a little too stiff.
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