After waiting for a few minutes, my phone rang instead.
"Excuse me, Professor, I need to take this call."
I apologized to her and hurried aside, momentarily stunned when I saw the caller. Finding a quiet spot on a side balcony, I closed the glass door before answering.
"Hello, Miss Kusanagi," I said softly. "What's wrong?"
It was already the middle of the night; the girl should have been fast asleep by now. There was no response from the other end, only a rustling sound, as if the phone was tucked under a pillow and the receiver was rubbing against the fabric.
"Miss Kusanagi?" I asked again, but there was still no reply.
A faint doubt stirred in my heart, accompanied by a bad premonition. I called out her name several more times in quick succession.
After a long while, a faint, barely audible sound of breathing came from the other side, followed by the movement of the phone being picked up.
"Miss Kusanagi? What's wrong?" I pressed the phone close to my ear, my sense of foreboding growing stronger.
A soft cough came from the other end, but she still didn't speak.
I grew a bit anxious, my voice rising a few notches. "Hello? Miss Kusanagi, what happened?"
"...I pressed it by accident." The girl's nasal voice was heavy and strained, her words coming with difficulty and sounding very raspy.
I froze. "Did your cold get worse?"
Silence hung on the other end for a moment before the girl sniffled. "I'm fine." Just as she said she was fine, she was interrupted by a fit of violent coughing, and she immediately moved the phone away.
Still trying to be brave. Why refuse to admit she was sick?
Even though I couldn't see her, I could tell from her voice that she must be leaning against her pillow with a fever, feeling dizzy. I really shouldn't have stayed in the snow with her for so long.
"Miss Nozawa should just focus on the birthday party," her voice drifted over faintly. No sooner had she finished the sentence than she couldn't help but cough again.
I was choked up by her words. I had only been thinking of myself and hadn't noticed anything wrong with her. A wave of guilt suddenly washed over me.
"Turn on the heater. I'm coming back right now." I hurriedly grabbed my coat and opened the balcony's glass door, only to run straight into Alex standing at the entrance.
"Miss Nozawa, where are you going? The party has just begun." Alex stopped me, looking puzzled. "Miss Nozawa, are you in such a hurry to leave?"
"I'm sorry, Senior, I have something to take care of and need to head back. Let's talk next time." I really didn't have time for him, so I hurried away after speaking.
"Hey, Miss Nozawa, the gift! The birthday gift hasn't..." He shook the exquisite gift box in his hand, his expression gradually darkening.
Her figure quickly disappeared through the villa's entrance.
She really is popular; a woman who witnessed the scene clicked her tongue, feeling sorry for the boy.
You can't woo a girl who is both beautiful and academically successful like this; you need to invest more time. She was usually uninterested in girls with dull and boring personalities, but when such a personality was paired with that face, it seemed to add a certain charm.
"Are you pursuing her?"
Alex was dejected. Seeing Mori Reiko approach, he reluctantly turned his head. "I've made a fool of myself in front of you, Senior."
"Even a playboy has moments of such devotion." The woman laughed, her tone somewhat teasing.
"She's the most outstanding girl I've ever met. Unfortunately, she doesn't like me."
"Being outstanding is one thing, but this girl has a special charm." Mori Reiko handed him a glass of red wine. "It's no wonder you've fallen for her. Such a Chinese girl is indeed very attractive."
"Sigh." The man loosened his tie and gulped down the wine, drinking so quickly and forcefully that small red spots stained his white shirt.
"You know your father's temper. It's best not to resort to drowning your sorrows in alcohol." Mori Reiko ruthlessly interrupted his sentimentality. "You're a grown man. There are plenty of other flowers in the world; you can't force matters of the heart."
"But this flower is so fragrant! I also think I'm strange; I only want this one." The man, over 1.8 meters tall, actually began to wail. He had already had many drinks before this, and that last glass was the straw that broke the camel's back.
Mori Reiko had never seen him in such a pathetic state. Wealthy young masters never lacked women, but after not seeing him for a while, he actually gave off the vibe of a prodigal son returning.
"If she doesn't want the gift, I'll just throw it away! If she doesn't want it, she doesn't want it!" With that, the man pulled an exquisite gift box from his inner pocket and raised his hand to toss it off the balcony, but Mori Reiko was quick enough to snatch it back.
"Have some self-respect."
Unable even to throw it away, the man was extremely depressed. Ignoring the stares of the guests, he sat cross-legged on the floor.
Mori Reiko opened it in front of him, revealing an elegant and gentle Bulgari necklace of considerable value. His taste was actually quite good; its aura suited that girl well. "I'll keep it for you for now. There's a major class next Tuesday; I'll give it to her for you."
"Really?" A spark of hope flickered in the man's eyes again.
Mori Reiko tapped his forehead. "Remember to send me two bottles of good wine."
In the deep of the night, heavy snow fell, covering people's footprints and laying down several more thick layers of white.
The house was pitch black. I could hear my own ragged breathing from running so fast. Without even taking off my snow-covered coat, I headed straight for her room.
Snow from my hair fell right by my ankle. Belatedly, I realized that I was covered in a layer of cold air and couldn't possibly go in, for fear of worsening her cold.
The door wasn't tightly shut as usual; instead, it was slightly ajar, with the warm light of a desk lamp leaking out and spilling diagonally onto the wooden floor. After a moment of hesitation and struggle, I took off my coat, changed into warm cotton clothes, grabbed a thermometer and some medicine, and pushed the door open softly.
A warm yellow lamp was lit at the bedside. The girl lay on her side, her lustrous black short hair scattered across the white pillow. Clothes were strewn all over the floor in a mess.
Her brows were furrowed in discomfort. The light fell on her eyelashes, casting long shadows, and there was another shadow across her straight, slender nose, caught between light and dark.
She didn't seem to notice me coming in. Fine beads of white sweat had broken out on her forehead. Her coughing wasn't as violent anymore, but her throat was clearly uncomfortable, and she let out subconscious soft moans.
The air conditioner in the room was running normally at a constant 26 degrees. On the corner of the table was a pack of cold medication with a few pills missing, and half a cup of water that had already gone cold.
I didn't know if she was asleep, but her expression wasn't relaxed. I could tell the girl had very skillfully handled her illness herself and had fallen into a deep sleep before she could even tidy up.
A deep, almost imperceptible sense of loneliness surrounded her.
With this level of proficiency, how many such nights had she spent alone?
My heart felt tight with anxiety.
It was just a cold, yet I felt unforgivable. Ultimately, I hadn't taken good care of her. Her health came first; those unpleasant complications didn't matter.
I picked up the glass and the medicine from the floor, carefully placing them in the medicine box. I knelt to gather the clothes scattered everywhere, holding them in my arms. The clothes were a mess on the floor, except for my overcoat, which had been neatly folded and placed by her pillow.
The person who folded it was leaning against it, seemingly having fallen asleep snuggled up to it.
The girl was disturbed by the flickering light. She opened her eyes blearily. "Why are you back?"
I finished tidying up in silence before sitting down on the edge of her bed.
"What dosage of medicine did you take?"
"I took one pill," Kusanagi said, her eyelashes lowered, her voice raspy and strained.
"You need to take two pills of this medicine. Take one more." I popped a pill out of the blister pack, placed it in my palm, and held a cup of warm water.
The girl hummed in response and propped her slender body up. Her shoulders were sweaty, and the strap of her pure white camisole had slipped down. Her weak, sickly appearance carried a sense of irresistible vulnerability.
I was momentarily stunned, my gaze following her thin collarbone downwards. Fortunately, because it was cold, she was clutching the bedding to her chest, revealing only her two pale arms and no other details.
It was just feeding her medicine, and she swallowed it with rare obedience, yet I sensed something different in that action.
"It's a bit hot," she said raspily after swallowing the water. "The medicine is so bitter."
Snapping out of it, I whispered, "I'll pour another cup."
"No need." The girl pursed her red lips as if tasting the bitterness of the pill. Her fair face wrinkled slightly. "I want some candy."
In this situation, even if it were sweet fruit from the heavens, I would pick it for her myself. I said to her softly, "Okay, which kind do you want?"
"I want to eat Miss Nozawa's birthday cake." She lowered her eyelashes as if in regret. "That was very sweet."
Why the regret? Because we didn't eat it together, or for some other reason?
"I'll go get it. Wait for me."
AI Model: gemini-3.1-flash-lite
"Okay." I don't know if it was because she was sick, but her voice was light and low, with a delicate, soft quality that felt intoxicating to hear.
This seemed to belong to another version of her. Compared to the violent and cold demeanor she once had, this was a completely different side, making her hard to figure out.
I took the cake out of the fridge and carefully cut a slice. The smooth cream in the center was packed with strawberry bits, nestled between layers of delicate sponge cake.
She ate in small bites, her tongue occasionally licking the corners of her mouth, until she stopped after a while. She started coughing again, so I quickly handed her some warm water, letting her take a sip to soothe her throat.
The young girl sniffled, the tip of her nose turning a little red. The medicine made her sleepy, and her dark, moist eyelashes, looking as if they had been drenched in rain, slowly drifted shut.
I looked at the remaining half on the plate. Wanting to make up for the regret of not having shared the cake with her, I picked up the fork and ate it.
"Hey, if you eat that, you'll catch a cold too... Stop eating." The young girl looked slightly surprised and reached out to stop me, but I ate it too quickly for her to have a chance.
"I've already finished it."
"Colds are contagious, you..." She trailed off, her brows heavy with exhaustion.
"If you're sleepy, hurry up and rest. Rinse your mouth and go to sleep."
Kusanagi forced herself to swallow through the discomfort in her throat, still having enough energy to feign annoyance. "Why did you eat it?"
"I heard that once you pass a cold to someone else, you get better yourself," I said with a smile. "My constitution is much stronger than yours, little one."
I actually hoped she would pass the cold to me, so she could recover faster.
The young girl fell silent. She hugged the quilt tightly with her slender arms, burying her flushed face into it, her lustrous black hair fanned out.
"You want to take the cold away from me."
"Hmm." I admitted.
"Is it because you feel like you're the one who caused it? Leaving me home alone?" She peeked at me.
This indeed touched upon my guilt, leaving me speechless for a moment. My own negligence had caused her to fall ill, but that wasn't the only reason I wanted to take her cold; there were deeper emotions at play.
I had nowhere to hide from her accusatory gaze, filled with guilt.
"You're really blaming yourself, aren't you?" The young girl's breathing grew heavier, and she couldn't help but sigh.
"I caught this cold on my own; it has nothing to do with Miss Nozawa."
"If you hadn't been walking in the snow for so long to accompany me, you wouldn't have caught a cold." My guilt deepened.
"Is this just a doctor's sense of responsibility?" The young girl, with her ink-black eyes and hair, stared straight at me, her expression unreadable.
"...I suppose so," I said. "But not entirely."
"So that's how it is." She suddenly smiled, ripples dancing in her eyes.
Because of my guilt, I spoke faster. "Colds in winter are miserable, and they tend to recur. It's all my fault."
"Oh." The young girl nodded, though the look on her face showed she wasn't listening at all.
"If I had known, I wouldn't have gone."
"Oh."
As I thought, she wasn't listening at all, that girl.
She propped up her burning body, leaning against the edge of the bed. "I'm so hot. I want to take a bath."
"Measure your temperature before you do that." I prepared the thermometer and had her take it, gesturing for her to lie down for a little longer.
Kusanagi obediently complied; she seemed to be in a much better mood because of our conversation.
It would take a few minutes for the thermometer to give a reading.
I stared at the thermometer under her arm, keeping my gaze strictly focused, refusing to let it wander anywhere else.
Knowing how soft and youthful her limbs were beneath the quilt, and how slender and fair they were, I quickly dismissed the thought. No one had the right to glance at an underage girl's body. The few minutes of waiting felt like sitting in solemn meditation.
The night was deep and quiet, the rustling of snowflakes outside the window audible to the ear.
After a while, the young girl's clear voice murmured, "Hey, how was the party?"
The air conditioner was blowing warm air from behind me. I had been drinking, and the alcohol was starting to hit me, so I took off my padded jacket, leaving my neck flushed red from the heat.
"To be honest, it was quite boring." I sat on the floor, feeling a bit tipsy.
"It was full of people I didn't know. They were all very impressive and young. Although it was called a birthday party, it was actually a networking event. Everyone was just exchanging information, and if you were valuable, you were a 'good friend.'"
"That does sound very boring," she said in a lazy tone.
"Miss Nozawa has never been good at socializing. I'm afraid attending a party like that must have been exhausting for you."
"I'm not good at socializing? How would you know?" I brushed my hand across her forehead; she was running a fever.
Kusanagi spoke with certainty. "Because I'm very good at it, so I can tell that you aren't."
With that cold, unpleasant expression that kept everyone at arm's length and that temper that flared up from time to time, how did she fit the description?
Yet, despite how she appeared on the surface, she had many friends and admirers. I was the opposite—polite and harmonious with everyone, yet rarely having had playmates growing up. Having been in Japan for so long, my only friend was Li Shijia. Perhaps I really was the one who wasn't good at socializing.
The sixteen-year-old girl had her own way of doing things—a calm ease, an innate arrogance, and a capability that hinted at the incredible heights she would reach in the future.
I suddenly found myself looking forward to seeing what she would be like when she grew up.
"Being eloquent is a privilege for some people. For me, it's a skill that requires constant practice," I said, hinting at something.
"Eloquent?" She repeated the idiom, accurately grasping the point.
"In Chinese, it means someone who is very clever." Of course, I wouldn't tell her the true meaning; the word had a subtle nuance that only Chinese people would understand.
The young girl muttered under her breath, "I see. Well, when I talk to Miss Nozawa, I can certainly feel your 'eloquence.'"
I was rendered speechless. She knew exactly how to use Chinese idioms—when did her Chinese get so good?
"Go on, what else?"
"There was tuna at the party, which you love, but I didn't eat much. It was a pity." I didn't intend to tell her anything else.
"Tuna isn't my favorite."
It wasn't? I remembered she liked the fatty tuna belly the best; her eyes would crinkle in such a cute way when she ate it.
"I like you the most," she said, pausing before looking at me, "the one you made the first time."
The fish I had made for her the first time—it had been fried. It was grass carp, and she actually remembered it.
"I'll make it for you once your cold is better. And from today on, you are not allowed to wear short skirts. Do you hear me?"
I leaned in close to her and took the thermometer. My heart skipped a beat when I saw the red line at 39 degrees.
"You smell strongly of alcohol." The young girl sniffed, murmuring softly, and smelled behind my ear several times.
Her breath was too close, and it tickled.
I stepped back, ignoring the strange feeling in my heart. The red thermometer in my hand was glaringly obvious. "You have a fever—39 degrees. That's a high fever. You can't take a bath."
"But I'm sweaty and it's uncomfortable." Kusanagi's eyes widened slightly. "I can't sleep if I don't take a bath."
I couldn't help but tap her on the head, scolding, "You're burning up at 39 degrees and you're still thinking about a bath? Aren't you afraid your fever will get worse?"
"I get fevers often, and it's fine to take a bath. Hot water can dispel the cold. I guess Miss Nozawa's medical skills aren't as advanced as I thought." The young girl's eyes were blurred, but the teasing smile on her lips remained. "I've had colds and fevers ninety-nine times out of a hundred. No one understands fevers better than me. Even Miss Nozawa is a loser here~"
She was burning up like this and still had the energy to joke around. My face darkened. Seeing her trying to force herself to stand up and go to the bathroom, I had to gently wrap my arm around her shoulders and use my strength to support her weight.
"Loser." She leaned in close to me, the corners of her lips curling up.
"If a fever is caused by a cold, taking a hot bath can indeed help break the fever and induce sweating, which aids recovery. But if it's over 39 degrees and you're not in a good mental state, it's not advisable to take a bath."
"My mental state is just fine." The young girl's footsteps were unsteady; she stumbled with every step.
"I think you're about to burn yourself into a stupor." I held her shoulders tightly and asked helplessly, "Are you feeling dizzy? Do you have chills?"
"Yes. And my limbs feel cold, so I can't take a bath," Kusanagi said, her body burning hot as she leaned against my chest with a light chuckle. "Does Miss Nozawa want to join me?"
"..."
It seemed that a bath was inevitable tonight.