"We are finally going home, I told you that teacher is insanely annoying keeps yapping forever for saying a single word, he acted like we rapped his wife while he is watching, we were just off-topic, it wasn't that deep." He spoke while both stepping out through the college gates.
"Watch your mouth, bastard. If someone hears you, they'll think you're the one taking the topic way too seriously." She reply, swatted his arm to make him stop.
"Bastard? If I were someone called Klein Moretti, you wouldn't be calling me that. You've got his stickers on your bag, his photo on your shirt, and he's even your wallpaper. Most of your gallery is just him. You're obsessed with a fictional character—it's childish. You'll never find your man if you're still like this."
"Keep talking about the teacher unless MY protector, Detective, pirate, hunter, hero, miracle, noble, Aristocrat, hero, master, genius, ,loving, helpful, knowledgeable, visionary, humble, THE FOOL WHO LOVES THE WORLD KLEIN MORETTI."
"Look who's talking too much now," he shot back, a smirk pulling at his lips. "We're almost home and you're still glazing him? Give it a rest."
He let out a short, dry laugh, clearly enjoying the look on her face. "Seriously though," he added, catching up to her, "you need to find a real guy instead of worrying about a 'Great Lord' in a book."
I'm always fine when I'm around you, so there's no need for that," she muttered, her voice low and flat, as if she couldn't be bothered to argue back. She kept her eyes fixed forward, refusing to look at him directly. "Anyway, summer's starting and graduation is only two weeks away. You want to hit the beach together once we're finished or what?" She didn't wait for an answer, instead continuing her steady pace along the riverbank. The afternoon sun was hanging low in the sky, its heavy rays striking the surface of the water and shattering into a thousand pieces of liquid gold. The reflection was so bright it seemed to set the edges of her hair on fire, turning the stray strands into shimmering copper threads.
Beside them, the river flowed with a quiet, rhythmic hum, the surface sparkling with a blinding, metallic light that made the world feel quiet and expensive. She just kept walking, her shadow stretching long and thin behind her on the dusty path, acting like the beautiful view—and his presence—didn't affect her all.
He paused for a moment, captivated by the sheer brilliance of the view. The river was a moving sheet of liquid gold, the light so intense it felt heavy against the air. But as he turned his gaze from the water to the girl walking beside him, the scenery suddenly felt like a backdrop.
Chloe stood at a striking 175-180 cm, her tall, lean frame cutting a sharp silhouette against the blinding sun. The light caught the pronounced curve of her chest, casting a soft shadow that tapered down to her narrow, athletic hips. She moved with a long-legged, restless grace, her stride matching his inch for inch.
As the sun hit the side of her face, it ignited the short strands of her hair into shimmering copper threads. She didn't look back at him; she just kept her chin tilted up, her shoulders squared with a cool, detached confidence. At this height, they were perfectly level, their eyes destined to meet at the same horizon, yet she acted as if she were miles away.
'No one would refuse a trip to the beach with you. And why did the view have to start looking this good the exact second she said that? It feels like we're stuck in some cheesy romantic comedy novel."He scoffed inwardly and didn't say a word, almost as if he'd forgotten he was supposed to respond
Walking beside him, she glanced over and said, "Yuno?" He snapped out of his daze and looked at her "Sure why not?"
They came to a halt in the middle of the street, the sun having finally dipped below the horizon, leaving the moon to rule the world.
It had taken them nearly two hours to reach home not for a lack of transport, but because they simply preferred it that way. They loved the slow rhythm of walking and chatting, their eyes drifting between the winding river and the dark silhouettes of the mountains. The vast landscapes had been their only company as the day bled into night.
Now, standing under the pale moonlight, the reality of the end of the road set in. They separated with a quiet, lingering goodbye, the two hours journey finally coming to a close
Tap Tap Tap
"I'm coming!" a loud voice shouted from inside the house.
The house was not big, but it had a simple, rectangular shape. It looked strong and modern. Even though it was small, it felt very solid on the ground.
The door swung open, and the first thing Yuno saw was the reflection in his own eyes: a girl framed by the doorway. Her dark hair was so long it reached down past her backside, swaying slightly as she moved.
She wasn't a classic beauty—just a girl with average-looking features and deep brown eyes—but she had a presence that was hard to ignore. She parted her lips, her expression a mix of boredom and annoyance.
"You're always late," she said, her voice flat as she stepped aside. "Come in."
"You don't have to say that every time I'm back." Stepping inside, he kicked off his shoes and added, "I've already eaten. Don't wake me up." He headed upstairs to a room so small it scarcely fits three people. As he collapsed onto the mattress, the cramped space became his threshold for dreaming
Everyone dreams differently: some see nightmares, others see beauty, and some see things they can't explain. When you realize you are dreaming because something feels impossible, you either wake up or keep going. Many people choose to stay in that dream, creating their own events just to avoid returning to reality. The moment Yuno fell asleep, he woke up on a desolate street. His eyes felt heavy and lost, and silent tears began to fall onto the cold ground.
A crowd of people, adorned in top hats, bonnets, and clutching gold and silver canes, paraded around him. Most ignored him entirely. A few glanced his way, seeing only a beggar in strange, tattered clothes, but they quickly turned away in disgust. They couldn't care less for a boy whose garments were swarming with ants and filth, as if he hadn't bathed in weeks.
Despite the demeaning gazes following his every move, Yuno remained indifferent. He stood up, shaking off the dust, and began to walk determined to find his own unknown path.