The final bell rang, its echo trailing through the hallways. Rin hurried out of her classroom, her steps quick and uneven, almost frantic. She rushed to her locker, swapped her shoes in a blur, and then dashed toward the school gate.
Ezakiel would be there—he always waited for her these days. And this time, she had something she needed to ask him. Something that had been gnawing at her mind, refusing to let her sleep, refusing to let her breathe.
The scene in the cafeteria replayed again and again, a cruel loop she couldn't escape.
Her heart wouldn't calm down until she knew the truth.
Has he really moved on from me so suddenly? And if so… why?
Despite telling herself she should let it go—that it was his choice, and if he had truly moved on, then so be it—the thought refused to leave her. It clung to her, gnawed at her, shadowed every moment since lunch break.
Her pace slowed as the school gates came into view. Doubt weighed on her steps, heavy and uncertain.
Should I really ask him this question? A question that might cut deeper… wounding the very man who has been nothing but kind to me? The man who helped me and my sister selflessly, asking for nothing in return?
How could she bring herself to hurt such a man? How cruel would that be?
My sister won't forgive me… nor will God…
Then, as if to shield herself from the sharpness of her own thoughts, another idea surfaced.
Speaking of God… is it possible this is some kind of test? If I am Ruth, and Ezakiel is Boaz, then isn't it only logical I'd be tested like this?
And that was what she chose to believe—that this was nothing more than a test from God. A comforting answer, a fragile shield. A coping mechanism born of her aching heart… though she could not see it for what it was.
She waited near the school gates as soon as she reached them, facing the entrance of the building, her eyes scanning for Ezakiel. It wasn't long before he appeared, walking toward her.
A smile spread across her face, and she almost broke into a run to reach him. But the smile froze—and vanished—as her gaze fell on another figure, suddenly stepping up and taking his hand.
Tsumi.
...
Seriously, what the hell is she doing? Just grabbing my hand out of nowhere—does she want to make some kind of scene? A public display, in front of everyone?
I could already feel the weight of their stares. Every single pair of eyes in the courtyard turned toward us, like moths to a damn flame. Some were whispering, some outright gawking, and I knew exactly how this would look. A guy and a girl holding hands, her clinging to me like that—it didn't matter what the truth was, people would make up their own stories.
And if a rumor started spreading? That would be a problem. No—more than a problem. If Rin caught wind of it, it could ruin everything I've been building. I've worked too hard for this, wasted too much time and money already, to let one unstable psycho screw it all up for me. Rin was supposed to be my focus, my investment. She was useful—too useful to lose over something this stupid.
Damn it. I'd have to clear this up later—smooth it over, make sure Rin understood it was nothing. She couldn't be allowed to think I'd "moved on."
Before I could do anything, Tsumi leaned into my arm, her weight pressing against me. In that cheerful voice that always grated my nerves she chirped, "Let's go!"
Yeah, I can use telepathy. So can other magical girls—most just don't bother.
…Oh, crap.
That slipped out.
<…How do you know about that?>
Her voice changed. The sing-song gone in an instant, replaced by something hollow and sharp—psycho and empty beneath the mask. Outwardly she kept smiling, innocent and sweet, but the crack in her calm had opened.
Shit. I'd stepped on a landmine.
Then I noticed Rin at the gates—watching us. I'd been so focused on Tsumi I had forgotten she would be there.
"Ah… hm… ah… hey, Rin?" I said, forcing a casual tone.
"Hi…" Her voice was small and flat; her eyes were sad.
Shit shit shit shit.
"Now, look—I know how this looks. I don't like this girl. She's forcing me to go on a date with her!" I blurted, loud and fast.
"Hey, why say that?!" Tsumi pouted and squeezed my arm tighter. "I thought you loved me."
"What the actual f—" before I could answer, Rin cut in.
"I understand," she said quietly, voice steady. "It's her fault, not yours."
I nearly choked on how easily she forgave—was it really that simple?
Tsumi huffed, pouting theatrically, then grinned and pulled. "Today he's with me. You can have him tomorrow! He's all mine today!"
Rin's face tightened for just a second before she turned away, her expression shuttering as if she were swallowing something bitter.
Tsumi's voice rang smug in my head.
Her tone twisted, playful on the surface but barbed underneath, the kind of mockery designed to dig right under the skin.
But still… how the hell did she know I'm not an actual teenager?