Thanks to a certain someone, I arrived at the classroom just in time. Today was a theory class, and I sat in the front row in my usual spot.
Usually, Li Shijia would approach me with a grin to chat, but right now she was sitting alone at the very back. She didn't even greet me when I entered, focused entirely on her study materials. Class was about to start, so I couldn't change seats from the front row and had to sit through two classes like that.
As soon as class ended, Li Shijia turned to leave as if she hadn't seen me. I hurriedly grabbed her: "Shijia, what's wrong?"
Li Shijia kept a cold face, and since I was holding her sleeve, it wasn't easy for her to walk away: "Nothing's wrong."
I was completely at a loss. "Did something happen?"
She still kept her face stiff and didn't speak.
"What's really going on, beautiful?"
Hearing the words 'beautiful,' Li Shijia couldn't hold it anymore. She poked my forehead hard. "You tell me! What's going on! Being selected by Yamashita for an early internship—such a huge thing and you didn't tell me! Do you even consider me a friend!"
Her eyes widened, and her voice was incredibly loud: "You didn't tell me first about something this big; I had to hear it from that shut-in guy in class! What's wrong with you!"
I suddenly understood. My intention was to hide it so she wouldn't feel burdened or pressured, but I didn't expect this young miss not only didn't mind but also started scolding me.
"I'm deeply reflecting on my behavior of withholding information. From now on, I'll tell you everything without reservation. Great Beauty Li Shijia is generous and will surely forgive me, right?"
"Hmph! Not enough!"
I had to explain softly: "I just thought Yamashita's taste wasn't good enough."
"He chose you, which proves his taste is good. What nonsense are you talking?" Li Shijia's attitude softened, but her words were still sharp.
"Since he didn't choose you, his taste is bad."
Li Shijia burst into laughter and punched me lightly. "I'll forgive you for now, but don't do it again. Yamashita has his reasons for picking someone, and I'm more than happy for you."
"Mhm! I know." I smiled and took her arm as we sat in the back row. "When I heard the news yesterday, I couldn't believe it. It's not set in stone yet; I still need to work twice as hard."
"Getting selected is already very difficult. Don't overthink it. I heard you have to intern at the Medical School for a while first. Did you get the notification email?"
I thought about it. "Not yet, probably in the next couple of days."
Li Shijia slapped her thigh. "Almost forgot, I have a senior interning at the hospital. You can ask him if you have questions."
"Love you!" I hugged her, wanting to give her a kiss.
"Don't get happy too early. Interns have it hard. There's a ton of difficult cases and patients, and the oral language requirements are high. Our school is just an affiliated hospital, but many townspeople come from the countryside. Some even travel all the way from Hokkaido. They're from different regions, and their accents are all over the place."
Coming from Hokkaido for treatment—that's really far. Like patients from small counties in China going to Shanghai. It seems Japan, as a developed country, is the same; it's a perennial problem.
"My speaking skills really aren't that good." Speaking of oral language, I held my head in a headache. "But Miss Kusanagi has started teaching me Japanese. With a native Japanese like her teaching, my speaking shouldn't stay like this."
"She probably teaches more colloquial style, which is perfect for practice." Li Shijia had a dazed expression again when mentioning Kusanagi. "Sigh, not only is she beautiful, but her voice sounds like a podcaster on Ximalaya."
"She's actually a somewhat famous Utaite. Those kids from last time have even formed a band and released an album. I'll show you."
For some reason, I felt a sense of pride, like sharing a favorite hidden gem creator with someone. I opened a music app.
"Listen to this album." I randomly played a song.
"Holy crap, she's a hidden talent! So wild and explosive?!" Li Shijia's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Is Kusanagi the one singing all these?"
"Yes, she's the lead singer. Momozawa said she wrote the lyrics and music for ninety percent of them."
"Saying that makes me admire her even more! Heavens... Nozawa, can you ask her to teach me too?"
I rolled my eyes at her. "Are you mocking me? Does someone with your speaking skills need a teacher?"
"It's not proficient enough~ Besides, beauties like beauties~"
Narcissist. Even among Northerners, few are as narcissistic as her. I couldn't help but smile.
There was a quiz in the afternoon, testing the theory knowledge from the past month. It didn't feel hard; it was all points covered in class. Keeping Kusanagi's 'come back early' from last night in mind, I turned in my paper early and left.
At dusk, the whole sky was a warm fiery orange, with the edges burning like red skirt ruffles. The sun had set, but it was still sweltering on the road.
Where would she take me? I couldn't guess.
Maybe the streets around the apartment; there are many restaurants, arcades, and supermarkets there. I could learn a lot of daily knowledge. Anywhere is fine, as long as that girl doesn't prank me.
Back at the apartment, I prepared ingredients for dinner and was about to hang the bedsheets when I unexpectedly saw a familiar figure.
A woman with an elegant bun was hanging clothes. Her back as she bent over was delicate and thin, and she was struggling with the hangers.
"Madam, when did you return to Tokyo?" I quickly went to help her, hanging the clothes easily—the benefit of being tall.
"Miss Nozawa, ah, it's you. That's great."
Mrs. Kuroki breathed a sigh of relief. She softly pulled me aside, "The master is concerned about her situation and asked me to come check. If she knew I was here, she wouldn't be happy. Please keep it a secret, Miss Nozawa."
Feeling that Mrs. Kuroki didn't have it easy, I nodded.
The room next door was wide open; clearly, Mrs. Kuroki had just been inside. I couldn't help but look, because that was Kusanagi's room, right across from mine, which was always tightly shut.
Seeing my gaze, the lady explained with a bitter smile: "I came to get the child's medical records; I had to hide it from her."
I then noticed a small blue book in her side pocket—Kusanagi's medical record book.
My heart skipped a beat. Mrs. Kuroki came all this way; could something be wrong?
I really wanted to ask for details, but since it was someone else's family matter, I was afraid of being too abrupt and could only look at her with earnest eyes.
Mrs. Kuroki patted my shoulder reassuringly, "Don't worry, Miss Nozawa. That child is very healthy. This record is just for the master's files; it's nothing major."
"Just for the files?" Hearing her say that, my heart settled slightly.
"Yes, don't worry. Miss Nozawa, there's one thing I forgot to mention. The young lady really dislikes people entering her room or touching her things. You should be careful about that."
My heart skipped a beat because I had entered Kusanagi's room.
When the moving company delivered her luggage, I took it upon myself to tidy her room and even placed a pot of lush green Biluo. I thought it would absorb carbon dioxide and be good for her health.
Her room was spacious, with a light gray interior. Cool headphones hung on the wall, the bedding was a rare black, and there was a clear panoramic floor-to-ceiling window. At night, the brilliant lights of Tokyo Tower would be in full view.
Besides those, there was a closet full of clothes with tags still on, and a dazzling array of jewelry—bracelets, rings, mostly silver, all in a cool and flashy style.
In short, the room was filled with an air of rebellion.
Kusanagi definitely knew I entered her room and moved her personal belongings, but surprisingly, she didn't get angry or even confront me.
Maybe she didn't notice?
I glanced over. The door was open, and I could faintly see soft pillows scattered on the bedding, with the indentation of a young girl having sunk into them. I could imagine her slender, soft limbs leaning lazily on them, with a rebellious white foot peeking out from the edge of the bed.
"It's getting late; the car is waiting for me downstairs." She pointed to Kusanagi's room and said apologetically, "Please make sure the young lady doesn't find out. I'm running out of time, so I'll have to ask Miss Nozawa to tidy up."
After apologizing, the lady hurried downstairs and left.
The Audi outside started with a faint engine sound, its wheels rolling on the asphalt, quiet as if it had never been there.
The girl's door was caught by the wind, hanging slightly ajar.
Now I had to go in whether I wanted to or not. Kusanagi's room was no longer as empty as it was at the beginning; it was filled with her private essence.
On the desk were scattered pens and papers, a school uniform draped casually over the back of a chair, and a discarded skirt tossed onto the quilt.
A room is the place that best reflects a person's character. A youthful, soft girlish scent lingered in this space.
This was something she naturally carried, yet tried her best to hide. I took a sniff—yes, there was a fragrance, along with the fresh, watery scent of my potted plant. Mixed together, it actually matched her own cold aura.
Kusanagi has two sets of high school summer uniforms. One is a reddish-brown school skirt with an elegant deep red border at the hem, looking both graceful and beautiful. The other is black, which leans more towards a delinquent vibe. When I first met her at the bookstore, she was wearing that black skirt.
The girl clearly prefers the black one. She rarely wears the reddish-brown set; in my memory, she's only worn it about two or three times.
The last time she wore it seems to have been a week ago. This beautiful school skirt has likely been sitting on the back of the chair for an entire week.
...Maybe this is why she wouldn't let me into her room?
I felt like laughing, but also found the clothes scattered all over the floor to be an eyesore. So, ignoring Mrs. Kuroki's instructions, I gathered all the laundry in the room and went to the laundry room in the bathroom.
There are two bathrooms on the fifth floor. I've followed the three-point agreement and have never been to Kusanagi's bathroom once. Now that I need to wash her clothes, it's probably better to use her bathroom, right?
I spent a moment mentally preparing myself.
It's fine. There's still half an hour before she gets home. As long as I tidy up quickly before then, she definitely won't find out.
I started washing with peace of mind. Opening the bathroom door and looking at the jade-white bathtub and vanity, I actually felt like I was doing something sneaky.
But what kind of thief doesn't steal things and instead washes the owner's clothes?
Her bathroom is a bit different. There's a small washing machine by the outer door and two imported brand dryers. On the vanity, there are only a few tubes of English-labeled toothpaste and facial cleanser—no bottles or jars. It's very simple.
Feeling the material of the school uniform, I thought it would be better to hand-wash it. I turned on the cold water, filled the sink, and quickly finished washing the girl's clothes. In Japan, there's usually a habit of hanging clothes to dry, but a dryer is more hygienic and can provide high-temperature sterilization.
As expected of a wealthy young lady, she even has two high-end dryers ready.
"I'd better search online for how to use this," I muttered to myself. It was my first time using such an expensive dryer; if I broke it by pressing something wrong, I'd be finished.
This button is for automatic overheat protection, and this one is the drying heat key. I confidently opened the dryer lid and was about to stuff the wet clothes inside when I suddenly noticed something wasn't right.
Uh... what's this? A few pieces of solid-colored intimate wear were lying inside, soft and white. Clearly, the owner had forgotten to take them out after they were dried.
Small, soft white cotton bras, and a gray one. They had thin straps and a very pure style with a hint of childishness. It was hard to imagine their owner was actually a rebellious delinquent girl.
This contrast... is just too much, isn't it?
My heart stirred. No wonder she was unwilling to let me in and even made a note of it in the three-point agreement. It seems she really does have secrets that make her shy. It's better to pretend I don't know anything.
The dryer had already stopped running. The underwear needed to be taken out as soon as possible, otherwise they would wrinkle and affect how they felt when worn.
I stared for a while.
To take them out or not?
If I don't, they'll get damp if left for too long.
I couldn't help but squat down and fold them one by one on my knees. As my thumb brushed over them, the padding felt soft to the touch, and there was a very pleasant scent.
I looked down. What brand of laundry detergent has such a faint, cold fragrance? Come to think of it, when I was holding Kusanagi and got close, I smelled this same faint scent.
She was so thin. As I held her to prevent her from falling, her jade-like black hair fell across my shoulder, infused with a subtle, dark fragrance.
Maybe it's natural. I gently picked up one piece and brought it to my nose to sniff. It was a colder scent than I expected—miraculous, soft like a flower, yet icy and refreshing.
Just then, rain abruptly began to fall outside. Small droplets pattered against the glass, sounding like a mild warning.
I snapped back to my senses, my eyelashes catching an indescribable mist.
...How was my behavior just now any different from a creep?
My cheeks felt strangely hot. Feeling guilty, I quickly tidied up, stuffed the wet school uniform into the dryer, and pretended nothing had happened.
In the evening, the faint red of the setting sun pooled into a cluster of light. In this uninhabited realm, heaven and earth seemed inverted, and umbrellas were like clouds filling the sky.
A sudden light rain fell. Listening to the roar of the dryer upstairs, I timed it perfectly to take the clothes out and put them neatly back into Kusanagi's wardrobe.
I thought I had opened the drawer for her cotton underwear, or perhaps I was just flustered from a guilty conscience, but when I hurriedly opened it, I found silk panties inside.
I was genuinely stunned for a few seconds.
...This style is so bold. Japanese girls really are different; at such a young age, they already know how to show their charm in this way.
As for myself... I subconsciously glanced at myself. Yeah, still the usual reassuring cotton panties.
Suddenly, I was obsessing over a strange detail.
I rubbed my face to calm my emotions. These successive surprises were truly unpredictable.
Perhaps the heavens saw my embarrassment, as the rain began to intensify. Kusanagi also arrived home over ten minutes late because of the rain, giving me plenty of time to compose myself.
The girl, holding a black umbrella, frowned as she unlocked the door. She wiped her damp face, a cool mist of moisture surrounding her.
"Miss Kusanagi, you're back." I went to meet her, eagerly taking the umbrella from her hand.
"Are you hungry? Do you want dinner now? A drink? Or should you go change your clothes first?" I tend to talk too much when I'm nervous.
"I'll change first." Kusanagi looked a bit puzzled. She felt my attitude was almost solicitous, which was very strange.
"Why do I feel like you're acting weird?" She stared at me suspiciously.
"I'm not, am I?" My back straightened as I lied without blushing or a racing heart. "Maybe I'm just uncontrollably happy at the prospect of Miss Kusanagi taking me out."
"I see." This reason was appropriate enough. Kusanagi stared at me for a few seconds.
She's just a kid after all, easy to believe others, but that still didn't cancel out the slight sense of guilt in my heart. I didn't quite dare to look at her.
She smoothed her slightly damp black hair. "What if the place we're going is terrible?"
I answered without thinking, "Wherever Miss Kusanagi takes me, I'll like it." You can't be picky about someone's kindness. Just like when someone treats you to a meal, as the guest, I naturally have no right to be nitpicky about the dishes. This is common courtesy and a form of respect for others.
Kusanagi hadn't expected me to answer like that. She said nothing, gave me a troubled glare, and went upstairs to change. I was left bewildered by her glare—did I say something wrong?
The rain outside showed no signs of stopping. I opened the window to feel the wind and rain; I was only afraid the rain would dampen our spirits.
After about fifteen minutes, I heard the door open again, followed by the sound of light, nimble footsteps.
"Miss Kusanagi, it's raining outside, are we still—" I turned my head casually, and my gaze was instantly pinned in place. For a moment, I couldn't find the words to describe the stunning sight.
Much later, when I recalled this moment, I felt it was a lightning-fast instant where everything around me vanished, leaving only me staring blankly at her.
Her outfit shimmered like snow, as if moonlight were flowing and cascading onto the floor.
She looked so beautiful in this outfit. I was stunned for a long while, with only this single thought in my head.
She was wearing a long, pure black silk robe. Dark brown silk threads were embroidered into exquisite, powerful branches that stretched from the hem to her waist. A wide, dark blue-black belt cinched her slender waist, highlighting her youthful and graceful figure, giving off an aura of coldness and pride.
She wore a light-colored, open-front Gauze robe over it. Every movement caused the gauze to shimmer like flowing water, adding an air of refined elegance.
Black hair and red lips, naturally vivid, combined with her unique cold temperament, she possessed a beauty that seemed beyond the mortal world.
"The rain outside is getting heavier. We might have to cancel today's plans." The girl approached me, the fragmented light softening on her long lashes and blending into her upturned eyes.
Suddenly, I didn't quite dare to look her in the eye, my face heating up for some reason. "You've dressed up so beautifully today; it would be a shame not to go out. We can use umbrellas."
Kusanagi touched her wrist shyly. "Then... alright, we'll head out as planned."
I stared at the top of her head. Her soft, black short hair was level with my chest. This outfit seemed like it might make movement a bit inconvenient. I would have to take good care of her.
Kusanagi put on a pair of Japanese wooden Geta, her snow-white Tabi socks making her look as crisp as snow.
Thinking of her angry look from this morning, I leaned toward her. "Miss Kusanagi, you're probably not mad at me anymore, right?"
"Take a guess," the girl said with a half-smile.
Normally, this expression would be dangerous, but somehow I perceived a faint hint of playful reproach. It must be because of her outfit—it was distracting me and giving me such illusions.
"Let's go. Keep up with me."