Light.
It was something that could be seen each morning after waking up. Yet no one had ever deciphered the true nature of the light. For instance, how was it that light could be so apparent even without mass, but still behave as a particle?
I was able to perceive things, all because of this mysterious splendor as light.
It could be reflected, just like how I was looking at this mirror.
I didn't really care about my appearance; looking presentable and simple was always enough for me. Well, all that mattered was I am so damned awesome. That is, for sure, a fact.
The mirror was still fair-looking over the wooden frame. I stood and stared at myself, or at least the flipped image of myself. This was the appearance showed to the world's eyes, what society saw . . . And somehow, it didn't seem to be right. Inside, I am an explosion. I had a soul that was made out of tear-stained pages of books about rage, affection, frustrations, ambition, and fear.
All they were seeing was midnight blue hair and a pair of steel blue and russet brown eyes that could forget one's identity.
Those every shallow part of me.
I ran a finger to the fraying strands of my cluster-like deep, blackish-blue nebula hair on my face, feeling the fragile strings and traces of water beads layered within.
Beneath this facade wallowed brokenness and filth, yet I did not need any fixing or restoration, because I, alone, is enough. I wouldn't call myself beautiful . . . because I'm simply awesome.
I smiled confidently.
Then it took me by surprise when I noticed Kiyoomi standing behind me; I caught his reflection from the mirror.
And he only regarded me in bemusement. "What are you doing?"
Putting my chin up, I returned the question, "What do you mean?"
He shrugged. "You've been staring at the mirror for like eight minutes." Then he continued his pace, and seated on the couch to wear his socks.
For a mere second, I swiftly gazed at him and grabbed my hair comb to give my locks a few strokes. "Just thinking that my thighs are so thicc."
Kiyoomi became motionless as I watched him from the mirror. I bit my lips tight, enough to suppress my laughter at his reaction.
Well, that's true, though. And there were no days I didn't have a mental breakdown about it.
With an empty expression, Yoomi-kun pivoted his head in my direction. He even rubbed those 'seriously?-you-are-telling-me-that?' and 'you-are-an-idiot-really' looks on me.
"You don't have to tell me that," he commented, annoyed.
"What?" I defended, giving him a lopsided shrug. "You asked."
"Tch." He let a sharp tone between his tongue and the roof of his mouth. "What's wrong with that? It's normal; you have the physique of an athlete . . ? Or some sort."
After hearing him, I made whining, pouting sound noise, as I stomped my heels on the floor. "But it's not normal for most girls!"
He stood up, not letting me show his frown. Kiyoomi looked sated from my complaints. The shadows under his deep-gray eyes betraying his indifferent face, but he was composed—so much, in fact, that his steady gaze seethed through me.
"Are you done?" he retorted without enthusiasm. "I thought you're more of a gentleman? Than I am? Right?"
I internally gasped! He remembered it well!
Now Nana was offended.
I painted that void-like expression on my visage. "Oh, right . . . Thanks for reminding me. Neh, Yoomi-kun, do you know why I chose to learn judo?"
"No." He was quick to reply, matching my intense gaze. "Why?"
"It's because . . ." I tilted my head on my right, my hair followed and covered the lower half of my face, creating more of that sinister distinction. ". . . I love choking someone to death." ♡
He flinched, though minimal. But Kiyoomi didn't let himself be left up as he stared at me with those equally paired, narrowed eyes, and his raven curls decorating his scrunched up pretty face.
"That's harassment, a threat," he spoke darkly. "I can get you reported."
It was an arrow shot on my head, got me stupefied where I stood.
"How dare you." I spouted and a vein of irritation popped on my cheek.
He only shrugged it off and wore his mouth mask. "I'll be going." Kiyoomi then picked his bag up, trudging towards the front door.
Geh. Smart-ass.
"Really. How dare you," I said full accusations.
He just left with a tiny smirk shown through his eyes.
He had that audacity to get me reported, for he knew his rights well. I felt soooooo offended! I had already given him so much help, but this was how he'd repay me? WHAT AN UNGRATEFUL BASTARD!
Calm, kokoro-san, calm.
Kiyoomi always had the upper-hand, and it was degrading my pride.
It shouldn't be like this.
I couldn't let Omi took advantage of my kindness to that extent.
Then, it couldn't be helped.
It had been four days since he moved into my place. We should grateful that he had reached this point without getting noticed by the school. We agreed that not a soul coming from that place should know, never wanted to stir false rumors about us. Kiyoomi was being careful as well.
He was always going to school at 6:30 AM with his bike; their morning practice would start at seven. And he was a wuss, anxious enough to go out without my notice. Thus he would call me.
And oh, he's calling me right now.
As a vigilant person, contacting me while arriving at school was his protective measures. So that if he got attacked by the stalker, either I could rescue him or call for help.
Of course, I was always a good person, I answered his call. But this bastard had me reached that boiling point.
"Hello, Kiyoomi Sakusa-san~!" I answered brightly but sardonically. "You done insulting me? I hate you, you know? And don't you ever talk to me again, because I hate you with a smiling face. And you should expect that you'll see your things in the trash bin. Good fucking sayonara, asshole!"
Then I shut the call up! Like I would let him speak his side.
I took deep breaths, wheezing loudly. Deep breaths. That jerk-face got the nerves!
While throwing a mental tantrum, my phone rang.
Ha ha. He really got that courage to call me again. But I only pressed the red button.
And again.
Bold of him to assume that I'd answer.
Tapped the 'end call' button.
I threw my phone on the couches, yearning that I could punch him in the face. Like over and over and over again, until he became unrecognizable.
Many times, he tried to reach me. And once he couldn't, he left a voice message.
[ It wasn't an insult. It's self-defense. ]
So he said.
Self-defense? Against me?
Yeah, wtf. He was clearly blackmailing me.
Then another voice message.
[ Nana. You answer. Me. ]
Why the fuck I would? So demanding. And I couldn't care less anymore. What an asshole. Kiyoomi. Asshole.
A new voice message.
[ Nana. ]
I sighed. I hated how he had perfectly pestered my life.
[ Something doesn't feel good. ]
I frowned at the uneasiness of his voice.
My sense of danger had switched on.
[ The stalker is here. ]
WELL, GUESS WHAT? SHIT.
As fast as the lightning strike, I dove onto couches to grab my phone. I shall hurry!
And before anything else, I began contacting him.
[ "KIYOMIIIIII—! YOU OKAY?" ]
I exclaimed in a profound urgency as soon as he received my call.
But he only answered in a very impassive way:
[ "Naaanchatta." ]
My face blanched.
What? He's kidding?
Kidding? Really? Now, Kiyoomi?
[ "Must be nice, huh?" ]
I said, benumbed.
[ "You still have time to joke around." ]
I heard no response from him, only the screeching sound of the handbrake of his bicycle. He must've realized that pulling a joke of being endangered by his stalker was never a good thing.
And after a little breath . . .
[ "Sorry." ]
He sounded so sincere, though.
Sighing, I relaxed my shoulders. But I didn't give a reply.
[ "Are you mad?" ]
And silence, nothing more.
[ "Please don't throw my things on the trash bin."]
Upon his words, an amused smile had created on my lips. But I kept it quiet, not letting him hear my voice.
After a short while, on the other line, his sigh was audible. Relief, if I might add.
[ "Well, if you don't want to talk, it's okay . . . At least, I know you're there, so don't hang the call up." ]
Thus, it had me thinking.
Kiyoomi . . .
He's really an honest person. Very earnest. He always knew what he wanted, what were the right words to say—not even hindering it.
Though some times, his blunt words were annoying and harsh. And he was never afraid to issue his demands, as long as he got what was right for him.
And on that certain point, we were similar.
Ugh. I give up.
I could never deny an honest person.
Why am I this kind?
I had no idea if it was a good personality or not.
I sighed, prepared to speak with him again.
[ "You owe me a milk tea, 'kay?" ]
I demanded.
I felt the glee on Kiyoomi's mood once he replied to me:
[ "Okay." ]
I couldn't help but have a bigger and more vibrant smile.
[ "And ice creams, too!" ]
[ "Hai, hai, I'll buy you." ]
[ "Aaaanndddd chocolates . . !" ]
I heard his smirk.
[ "Maybe you want to add more?"]
[ "Oh, if it isn't much,
buy me a cake as well." ]
[ "You sure?" ]
He sounded taunting.
[ "Your thighs will get thicker,
if you eat too many sweets, Yerina." ]
I made a sour expression. His words brought me a bitter war against myself.
But . . .
[ "Ew. Kiyoomi." ]
I cringed, chuckled shortly.
[ "But, who cares!" ]
I huffed loudly, snapping at him.
[ "I'm still awesome." ]
Kiyoomi exhaled with a caress of a soft smile, then he told me:
[ "I know you'll say that." ]
I grinned.
As he always should.
Later that morning, I arrived at school.
As a normal student, having classes were always . . . Normal.
And boring.
Yet it was Thursday, tomorrow was my most awaited day.
Before I could live my weekends, academics first.
Well, Physics was not that a bad thing.
It was actually worse.
"Light travels as waves." The instructor was only having his discussion in front.
It was not like I wasn't listening, my eyes were cast on the textbook. Just looking at it, understanding the illustrations printed on each page.
Then our Physics teacher continued, "These are transverse waves. Imagine a water pool of absolute stillness, then throw a coin on it. How would the pool react?"
"It would create ripples." It was a student from my class, that I didn't bother to know, who told the answer.
"Correct. That's also how light traveled, and its waves are transverse because its components vibrate perpendicular to the direction of propagation."
Yeah, I somehow understood how light worked.
It left me fascinated. Just like what I had been thinking this morning. My thoughts and today's subject were connected.
The universe imitated my thoughts. Naiseu~
Good thing, today's class was just a discussion, no problems solving happened.
Sooner, it was lunch break. We would usually go to our place to eat. But for today, I would like to make a little difference.
Filled with a sense of liberation at the release of the students from the formalities of the classes, the corridors were excessively energetic.
We were treading the hallway and Fumiko Suzuki was only steps away from us. She wasn't with her friends. I smirked. It was because I instructed her to be alone at most times.
I didn't second doubt, I quickly ran into her.
And with confidence, I clung an arm on her arm as I stuck my body close to her. "Fumiko-chan~" I called with all the cutesy I had, then chuckled like an annoying plastic doll.
In response to this, Fumiko had a lethal glare on her eyes, a shadow had brimmed over her face. "'chan', you say?" she muttered blankly.
Yet she had a face that she had to live up, thus she went back to her sweet, elegant self. "Oh, hi there, Yerina-chan."
I returned the glare to her. I also apprehended how hideous that kind of calling signs was.
And yeah, we'd never get along.
But for the sake of someone, I would.
"It's as if," I whispered dryly to her, "this is infuriating."
"Your idea," she replied coldly. "Make sure this would work out well."
Then I scoffed proudly, "Oh, sure it will. Just keep your pretty acting up, like you always do."
And before she could talk back to me, I had already faced Kiyoomi and Motoya who were just behind us.
"Say, Yoomi and Toya," I called, beaming full hidden mischievousness, "do you mind if Fumiko would join us for lunch?"
Kiyoomi, like always, did not react, whilst Motoya was enthusiastic about it.
"Lunch with the Fumiko Suzuki? Today?" Komori said happily. "It feels like we're a power group!"
"Power group, my ass, Motoya," I laughed softly. "Your naming skills really suck."
Then I averted my looks back to the princess. "How about you, Fumiko-chan?"
Her smile was unwavering. "Why would I turn down a lovely surprise?"
With that, I bounced gleefully. "Yay~!" Then I cheered. "I'm so glad!"
My arm was still locked on Fumiko's. Having a terrible idea, I started bouncing on my feet as I dragged her along with me, feigning excitement whilst we charted the corridor.
Fumiko didn't show it with her grace and pretty looks, but I knew too well that she had gathered an enormous amount of negativity in her system.
Ha-ha-ha.
It was always a pleasure to see these elites suffer inwardly.
🌸🌸🌸
"What do you mean when you stated Sakusa-san's name in front of me."
My lips curled up wickedly with a scoff. "Still want me to state the obvious?"
"About what?"
"Like most girls," I answered, "you're also a simp for Kiyoomi Sakusa."
She remained emotionless. "How can you tell?"
I rolled my eyes annoyingly. "Do you even need any explaining? C'mon, be honest just for once."
I observed the look on her face. She was staring at me. Her stares were intense, it was as if she was initiating chaos.
Though I did provoke her, I ought to continue to wage this inward battle. Appallingly, I could no longer deny that none of us were destined to lose, and only overwhelming each others' predatory gazes. Well, having come this far, I could hardly turn back from my contempt and admit a clownery.
It was worth to bluff, so.
"Stop worrying, hime-sama," I said, lowering my guards down. "It's not that I'm gonna blackmail you or something; it's actually the opposite."
Her brows narrowed, yet her appearance was still stern. And the way she stood uprightly, it screamed superiority. I always knew that Fumiko had this dark and twisted side, I wouldn't be surprised by that. She belonged to the elegant society—those who stand on the upper triangle.
"Opposite? What do you mean?"
"What I mean is–" I formally smiled– "for all the things you have helped me—though I forced you to—I'm going to return the favor."
The cloud that rendered Fumiko's face had slowly begun fading. And before she could utter a word, I didn't give her the chance.
"A hundred percent sure," I continued, "I can get you and Kiyoomi to be friends. But beyond that, it's all up to you."
"What would you ask in return?" She plopped onto the nearest chair in defiance.
Of course, she would be cautious—perplexed, at some point. One of her thin eyebrows lifted, austere and menacing. It was quite nerving to behold her distrust of me.
I couldn't blame her. I didn't want to trust her, too.
My face relaxed in response. As I crossed my legs, I swung the upper one to and fro. "Nothing, really. Just the petition letters I have asked you."
Unbeknownst to her, even Kiyoomi, but bringing them together would bring some relief in the on-going mess we had to deal with.
If they started dating—which I assumed would happen—it might save Kiyoomi from the stalker. And even the idea of people who thought that Kiyoomi and I were having a relationship would disappear at this face of this Earth.
"I don't believe you."
I snickered at her bewilderment, gazing at her under the thickness of my eyelashes. "Take it easy, Fumiko." There was a bitter acid coiling on my tongue as I said her name. "I'm doing this with my utmost sincerity."
I saw how she attempted to speak, only her lips parted open, unable to convey her retaliation. Thus, she knitted her brows, eyes narrowing into sharp slits. After a deliberating moment of not providing a projection to the thoughts coursing through her brain, her shoulders dropped down as if she was admitting an agreement.
All that was left for me to do was to manipulate the strings.
🌸🌸🌸
And so, lunch was held in our secret place located in the hidden part of this botanical garden, being sheltered by these green canopies.
I observed Fumiko eating her food with perfect poise from her matted seat. It appeared that she had been doing that with her entire life. Her place was parallel to Kiyoomi, while Motoya and I were sitting in front of them.
"Do you think it's okay for her?" Komori whispered to me, giving me a small nudge in the arm.
"'Okay' nani?" I asked, puzzled while biting my chopsticks.
"Eating with us," he simply answered.
I only grinned.
Toya must be minding Fumiko, considering how much a person of the class would join us for a lunch without any special treatment.
"Don't worry, Motoya-kun," I responded still with an unimpeded smile. "She's a kind and humble girl, I know it'll be okay for her."
I also intentionally let Fumiko hear that.
A kind and humble girl . . . My ass.
I clutched my napkin to my mouth to suppress my sniggering giggles.
She would never be okay for her. But she had to.
My dear Fumiko only nodded, her dark-gold curls twined in her head. She had large, expressive brown eyes, a snub nose, and a pale complexion—the perfect ideal looks most girls would want. Fumiko was indeed blessed by the heavens.
And if she really wanted Kiyoomi's attention, she should impress him with sophisticated ways of eating and what did it mean to be a very hygienic person.
It seemed like it was working. Kiyoomi was noticing her subtle and careful gestures.
That should be expected from the lady-like among the lady-likes.
I smirked mentally.
This had started smoothly. And I would like to witness the process.
I must be considered evil for using her, yet it was a deal that was profitable for both sides.
Spending my whole day in whole hypocrisy was sure . . . Toxic with my health. That was why during dismissal, I'd feel liberated. Honestly, I just wanted to be left alone at this point.
Though Kiyoomi's unit was currently unoccupied, cleaning it helped me to unload all of those unnecessary thoughts.
It was perplexingly, but the trail home was a quiet one. The roads were empty at this time, no odd movements in the shadows. That was why the moment a can snapped in the distance from the rear areas, my body automatically halted the kinetic energy of the bike and turned a half-circle.
A frown elevated on my forehead.
No matter where I cast my eyes, there was no single thing in the darkness. The eerie sounds calmly echoed along with the soothing howling of the wind. A paranoid thumps mixed at the tempo of my heartbeat. It was a beautiful night, so serene and peaceful, at first I believed, except it wasn't.
Instincts or natural paranoia.
I wasn't sure which, but there was this shiver that raised goosebump-like on my nape. It gave me the impression of being watched.
Unexplainable.
Not a single soul was out in the open, and yet the malice from a pair of eyes had made me frantic.
I let out a huff as I chose to ignore the prickle all over my skin. Then I turned around and paced the paddling to my bike quicker than before.
I never heard any echoing or extra footsteps, which had me exhaling a sigh of relief at the moment I reached the front door to my home. Shortly, I parked my bicycle and put the lock chains on the wheel. When I treaded the risers of the house, there was a gift box placed on it. It was visible, thanks to the greetings of the streetlamps.
A dark cloud-like color slid down to the contours of my face as soon as I saw it.
The box was emitting an unpleasant aura.
Curiosity—one of humanity's nature.
A blessing or a curse . . . Either way.
The present box was wrapped in white paper, sealed tight with a red ribbon.
Truly, a sight to behold—a gift that was looking so great, but somehow forbidden for the eyes to be seen . . . Then why it was in my doorstep?
My hands itched to pry it open; a thrilling force beyond my control and drew me to know the contents.
As I picked it up, I stared at the haunting box. I smirked. Only one glance, perhaps the curiosity would rid out of my mind.
Removing the ribbon and tearing the paper wrapper.
At the first crack of the box's lid, a foul stench had already burst out, riding on the thin air relentlessly.
And on that point, I fully opened the box and a dead creature welcomed me.
A dead rat.
It had a slit on its neck, and judging by the smell and blood coagulation, it had been dead for at least a day.
Instead of fear, a surge of anger rose, coming back to my senses with blood pumping so vigorously on my head.
Opening the box was irreversible, impossible to tamper with the lingering effects.
I felt the foreboding the longer I gazed at the rotting flesh. It was maddening that I couldn't weep rightly.
Who would do this?
No normal person could go this far. I knew some who had a deep annoyance in me, but never this kind of hatred.
One suspect, I could only think of.
The stalker.
Coming to understand it: the presence I felt a while ago was similar to the last time's.
If that was the case . . .
Kiyoomi.
I knew that I couldn't discard this dead rat carelessly, but I couldn't ignore Kiyoomi, either.
His life was more important, so I put the gift on the plant box, as well as my backpack.
Having no notion what was the next thing to do, I mindlessly ran out of the safety of my home and treaded the empty and shadowy streets.
Running . . .
Running as if my life was depending on it, almost stumbling on the pavement.
I was contacting Kiyoomi through my phone, but it seemed like in this given circumstances, he wasn't answering.
Mountains adrenaline had garnered disgustingly on the deepest pits of my stomach, threatening to erupt out of my mouth like a smoldering volcano.
I had no idea if time was running slowly or fastly on me. My thoughts were hanging in the threshold of rationality or fear. Perhaps, just plain fear.
I got lost to the concept of fear of the unknown, and I caved.
But it didn't stop me; hastily running as if I wasn't getting tired.
I called him for how many times, and got ignored equally.
Normally, Kiyoomi would call me. Yet now was different.
Seven in the evening. He was usually at home this time.
Where would he be? Is he still at school? What was he doing? Who's with him?
Nonetheless, I continued.
From my starting point, the haste to the Academy was four miles, approximately 30 minutes to reach top speed.
I never had superhuman strength, thus relying on the phone call was a big help.
The fact that he wasn't answering my call had caused me a numbing tremor in my system. All of the optimism I collected was gradually crumbling at the tortuous pressure of this eventuality.
My breaths became short, and my energy had seemed to drain into the ground at each step.
There were these unforgiving thoughts had whispered in my ear, swirling horrendously to break my fortitude apart.
But all of these had ceased at the sound of Kiyoomi calling my name.
[ "Nana?" ]
As if on cue, the life I shed through all my running had returned in a form of breaths. The lightness of his voice tinkled, seemed to ebb my anguish away; my exhaustion got rejuvenated knowing that he was fine.
[ "I'd been trying to reach you."]
He had? I was, too, though.
Well, it turned out that we'd been trying to contact each other.
[ "Where are you?" ]
I only asked, the weights in my lungs disappeared. I continued walking shortly.
He didn't respond at first, as though a wave of confusion had washed in the midst of us.
But when he did . . .
[ "In front of you . . ?" ]
My eyes flew open, pausing on my tracks, and stood deeply-rooted on my feet. Looking hopefully but stealthily, I peered at what was in front of me.
He was right. He was just in front of me, meters apart.
We met halfway.
A calming light created warmth in the atmosphere, like little cherry petals fluttering without a direction.
As I watched these imaginary flickering in the wake of a person's discourse over me, my anguish was eased . . .
For now.
Because at the back of my head, I was having these nagging feelings that something much worse would happen in the next few days.
🌸🌸🌸
My instincts didn't lie.
Something unexpected happened in the morning light of the day.
It happened that it wasn't just the light that could travel in rippling motions . . .
Is it true? Is it true? Kiyoomi Sakusa and Yerina Nakano are dating?
Apparently, they say. Rumors also say that they're living together.
Really? That's disgusting . . .
IKR! She's a poor student, right?
Yes, yes. That student who's full of conceit, but actually lacks delicacy and etiquettes.
It mustn't be true! Dating Sakusa-sama! His taste in women shouldn't be that low!
FAAACTS OMGGGG! She's prolly desperate! Y'know, a gold-digger.
. . . Falsified statements as well.
🌻
ah... that was ajdjdjd and late update
sorry if it's boring. gotta finish this, though trashy and didn't make sense lmao, so that we can move in the next part.
ps. do u know nanami kento? im so obsessed with him rn. i wanna marry him 💅🏼💍
🌊 handtheirend