Chapter 8
The next day, I showed up at Hyotei Academy on time as usual.
His school uniform was ironed, his long, inky hair was meticulously combed, and his face had returned to its usual calm and indifferent expression, as if the thrilling conflict on the rooftop and the unpleasant "money rain" at the school gate yesterday had never happened.
However, the obvious scratches on his arms and legs caused by fingernails and the bandages on them, as well as the dull pain in his back, still silently revealed what had happened.
They are like glaring labels attached to this body that tries to maintain "normality", inevitably attracting the attention of others.
During the break, a usually friendly girl from the same class cautiously came over to me, looked at the Band-Aid on my arm, and asked with concern, "Kiriyama-san, are you...are you okay? What happened to these injuries?"
My fingers paused as I sorted through my notes. Without even looking up, my voice was flat and silent, as if I were recounting a trivial matter that had nothing to do with me.
"nothing."
"I accidentally fell yesterday."
Falling? That excuse couldn't fool a three-year-old.
The girl looked at the wound on my arm that was obviously caused by scratching and the length of which could not be covered even with a Band-Aid. Then she looked at my cold face with my eyes lowered and the words "don't ask" written all over it. She swallowed the rest of her words tactfully and walked away embarrassedly.
Looking at her back, I felt no emotion in my heart.
Thinking back to the time since I entered school until now.
In Hyotei, wanting to be an "ordinary" student seems to be a luxury.
He lowered his head again and his eyes fell on the open book, but the handwriting was a little blurry.
Everything that happened yesterday surged through her mind - the vicious face of the Golden Haired Sister, the fists that landed on her body, Rie's terrified tears, and the banknotes that Keigo Atobe stretched out in front of her, with a hint of almsgiving.
A deep feeling of fatigue and powerlessness swept over me.
Angry? Of course.
But after being angry, what do you do? Go get entangled with those scumbags?
Go to Atobe Keigo to ask for so-called "justice"?
Or should I just transfer schools as I said impulsively yesterday?
never mind.
School bullying is a deeply ingrained phenomenon. How can a transfer student like me, like myself, truly put an end to it?
Getting entangled with that group of scumbags will only make you more tired and annoyed.
As for Atobe Keigo...
He closed the book and let out a barely audible sigh. His eyes became even more distant and cold.
There's no need to pay attention to him.
It’s really... very annoying.
When Rie Tanaka thought of that timid but extremely sincere girl, a slight ripple appeared in her cold heart.
She was still terrified yesterday and took today off. I looked at my schedule and planned to make a detour to her house after school to see her and bring her some of her favorite desserts, hoping she would feel better soon.
The day's classes ended in dullness.
I packed my bag and just wanted to get out of this suffocating place as soon as possible. I walked out of the classroom, through the familiar corridor, and headed to the shoe storage area to change my shoes.
However, when he reached his shoe cabinet, his steps paused.
A figure that absolutely shouldn't be here is leaning against the wall next to your shoe cabinet.
Atobe Keigo.
He was still wearing the neat Hyotei uniform.
His silver-gray hair seemed a little more disheveled than usual, and there was a faint, barely noticeable shade of blue under his eyes. He lowered his head slightly, his hands tucked into his pockets. His usual imperial aura seemed to recede, replaced by an indescribable tension.
Hearing the footsteps, he suddenly raised his head, and his deep eyes instantly locked onto him.
There were extremely complex emotions surging inside - there was lingering anger, there was residual coldness, but more of it was a clumsy, anxious desire to confirm something.
His eyes almost immediately fell on the Band-Aids on my arms and legs, and his thin lips were pressed into a stiff straight line.
The air seemed to freeze.
The students around them gasped at the sight and immediately took detours, desperate to get eight hundred meters away from the center of the low pressure. Even Oshitari Yuushi tactfully stood at a distance, observing the situation with a serious expression, ready to rush in and act as a human shield at any moment.
Looking at him, my brows instantly furrowed.
What does he want to do now?
Wasn’t yesterday’s farce enough?
I don't want to have any communication with him anymore, not even a single word!
Ignoring his complicated gaze, she walked straight to her shoe cabinet, took out her key, prepared to unlock it, change her shoes, and then leave immediately.
However, at the moment of turning the key.
"Hello!"
Atobe Keigo's slightly hoarse voice, with a hint of barely noticeable awkwardness, broke the frozen air.
I didn't look back, nor did I stop unlocking the door, as if I didn't hear anything.
As Atobe looked at her indifferent back and her uninterrupted movements, the pent-up anger in his chest was replaced by a deeper panic called "being completely ignored."
He took a sudden step forward, his tall figure approaching with a sense of oppression, but he stopped abruptly when he was one step away, as if he was afraid that if he got one step closer, something would explode completely.
"Your injury..." He began stiffly, his gorgeous voice no longer as calm as before, with a kind of clumsy expression that was eager to express but unable to express the meaning, "...those Band-Aids, no!"
The unlocking movement finally stopped.
Not because of what he said, but because of the absurdity of it.
I slowly turned my head and looked at him coldly, my eyes filled with undisguised doubts, as if I were looking at a fool.
What does my Band-Aid have to do with you?
Atobe Keigo was breathless at the sight of such a look, and a trace of embarrassment flashed across his face, but he forced himself to speak, as if to prove his "professionalism" and "correctness", and said in a very fast and almost commanding tone:
"Those cheap Band-Aids have poor breathability and are not conducive to wound healing."
"And the edges aren't sticky enough, so they could easily fall off and get infected! Ben... I checked yesterday, and scratches like yours require a special dressing that's breathable and waterproof and contains silver ions."
He spoke quickly and urgently, as if he was reciting a medical report, and even subconsciously took out a small and exquisite box with a foreign logo from his coat pocket. Inside was a few high-end Band-Aids that looked very valuable.
He held the box and stretched his arm stiffly in front of me. His movements were as awkward as when he handed over the money yesterday, but his eyes were fixed on the wound. His expression was full of unquestionable determination, but there was a hint of tension in his eyes that he himself was not aware of.
"Take it! Use this!" His voice was still stiff, but it lacked the arrogance of yesterday's charity, and was more awkward.
Looking at the exquisite little box in his hand, and then at his awkward expression which was covered with words like "What I say is right" and "You better listen to me", I was a little amused and confused for a moment.
Yesterday I hit it with money, today I hit it with Band-Aids.
Mr./Mr., are your solutions to problems always so crude, simple and expensive?
The sense of absurdity that was aroused in my heart diluted the cold anger, leaving only a deep feeling of powerlessness.
Looking at his stubbornly outstretched hand, I finally just shook my head very calmly, even a little tiredly.
"Atobe-san." The voice was soft, but it clearly penetrated the silence. "I can take care of my injuries myself."
"It's my freedom to use whatever band-aid I choose."
"Between us..."
After a pause, she glanced at the high-end Band-Aid in his hand, then looked into his eyes that were filled with complex emotions, and drew a clear line in each word:
"It doesn't matter."
"You don't need to, and you have no right to, dictate my affairs."
"Please move aside, I want to go home."
After saying that, she stopped looking at him, opened the shoe cabinet neatly, took out her own shoes, bent down and put them on. Her movements were smooth, without any hesitation or pause.
Atobe Keigo's outstretched hand froze in mid-air.
The box of expensive Band-Aids in his hand was like a red-hot iron, burning his palms so much that they hurt.
The clear words "It has nothing to do with me" were like an icy awl, piercing his heart.
It was more direct than yesterday's "birds of a feather" and more thoroughly denied all connection between them.
Even if it's an unpleasant connection.
He maintained the posture of extending his hand to hand something, frozen in place, like a gorgeous sculpture abandoned in the cold wind.
I just carried my schoolbag and walked out of the school gate quickly in the cool evening breeze.
Go see Rie.
Bring her favorite strawberry daifuku.
As for the rest...
Just let it go.
I just want to keep this little, real warmth.
As for that nagging, clumsy, and annoying Ice Emperor, he and his box of high-end Band-Aids have nothing to do with me. I just want to completely block him, along with all the trouble and noise he brings, out of my world.
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