The moment the girl finished speaking, it felt as though the entire world had come to a standstill.
The noise from outside the hallway, the sound of the wind outside the window… in that instant, everything fell silent, accompanying Mary as she waited for an answer.
Russell stood there, gazing at the girl in front of him. He stared at her eyes, which looked especially clear under the sunlight—yet those eyes were covered in water droplets.
He didn't know how to answer that question.
What kind of reply could possibly meet those expectations?
The wind outside the window suddenly grew stronger, making the girl's disheveled hair flutter and brush against her cheek. She unconsciously tucked it behind her ear.
That movement was very light and natural, but Russell noticed that her hand was trembling.
Her lips were slightly parted. She seemed to want to say something, but was afraid that opening her mouth would break the silence.
And those eyes simply continued to stare straight at him.
Russell suddenly recalled what Mary had said during class.
Habits are truly terrifying things.
I've gotten used to someone being by my side, gotten used to looking after someone, and gotten used to knowing who I'll see when I open my eyes every day.
It's become so natural that my brain has come to accept it as something ordinary.
And I could never give it up.
He realized that he, too, had gotten used to it.
He had completely grown accustomed to the excitement of arriving at the classroom on school days, to the faint scent of white tea that always lingered, and to those blue eyes that were always filled with smiles and affection.
He had gotten used to her being beside him.
In that moment, his mind was filled with countless possibilities—rejection, acceptance, or being brushed off lightly as a joke.
He suddenly felt that his current knowledge wasn't enough.
Extraordinary rationality alone seemed insufficient to resolve the current problem.
But in the end, Russell gave his answer.
He gave up on thinking and relied purely on instinct and emotion to respond.
He forgot what he had said afterward. Because after those words left his mouth, all he remembered was that smile—gradually blooming like a flower, glistening with tears as beautiful as poetry.
Mary smiled.
She smiled like a child whose wish had been granted by Santa Claus.
She took a step forward, crossing the boundary line she had maintained with the most basic self-control until now, and stood in front of Russell.
They had reached a distance that could no longer be defined by the word "close friends."
Then she suddenly stepped forward and threw herself into his arms.
Her movement was so fast that Russell didn't even have time to react.
He felt the scent of white camellias drifting over, and before he knew it, a soft, trembling body was in his arms.
Her face was buried in his chest, and both arms were tightly wrapped around his waist.
The scene from that afternoon classroom played in reverse at this moment, and then played again.
It was unclear how much time had passed.
Mary's voice finally rang out, though it sounded muffled coming from against Russell's chest.
"From today onward…"
She raised her face, looked into Russell's eyes, and spoke word by word, as though making a solemn declaration.
"We are no longer friends."
Even if they still weren't lovers, even if they were only one or two steps away from becoming lovers.
But that was fine.
Since she had taken this first step today, she could hold on to the hope of taking a second and third step in the future.
Until she reached the destination she desired.
Therefore, she had to peel away the label that bound her to her current position.
No longer being friends meant there was no longer any need to maintain a sense of distance between friends.
A relationship that was more than friends, but not yet lovers.
Hearing this, Russell looked at the girl in his arms.
He suddenly realized that he hadn't been looking at her properly.
No—he had been looking.
He had seen it countless times.
In the lecture hall where morning light streamed in, by the window of the afternoon cafeteria, and at the school gate where the afterglow of sunset remained.
But he had never seen it this clearly, this closely, and without any hesitation—looking into the depths of her eyes.
He was there.
Only him.
So he raised his hand.
That hand paused in mid-air, as though hesitating about something or confirming something.
Then it gently landed on top of Mary's head.
He softly stroked her soft silver hair with his palm.
The girl's body stiffened for an instant.
"..."
She couldn't help but ask in a slightly trembling voice, "What are you doing?"
Russell didn't answer.
He gently stroked the top of her head. The movement was slow, as though soothing a frightened kitten.
A few seconds later, he opened his mouth.
"I'm thinking."
His voice came from above. "We've known each other for a long time, but I think this is the first time I've touched your head like this."
Russell said.
"Would friends do something like this?"
Mary fell silent for a moment.
Then suddenly, she felt her face grow hot.
She buried her face in his chest again and spoke in a muffled voice.
The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch break and the end of this precious time.
Mary slowly released Russell.
She looked up at him again. There was still a gentle smile in her eyes, but at the same time, another emotion seemed to have slipped in.
"Let's go. Class is about to start."
The girl said.
"Mm."
Russell nodded.
Just as he was about to leave the classroom as usual, he felt his clothes being tugged.
When he turned around, Mary was smiling at him.
Then, while Russell wore a puzzled expression, she once again pressed herself against him and took his hand in a gesture that left no room for refusal.
Friends don't hold hands.
But since they were no longer friends, that was fine.
"Let's go."
She smiled gently and took the initiative to walk out of the classroom.
The moment they stepped out of the classroom, the distance between the two seemed to have changed, yet at the same time, it also seemed as though nothing had changed.
The hallway was still bustling with people.
Students who hadn't gone far after class, students on their way to the next classroom, and students who just happened to be passing by.
The moment the two emerged from the classroom, everyone's gazes turned toward them.
Mary didn't flinch.
Her hand was still clasped with Russell's, their fingers intertwined and tightly held.
There was no trace of hesitation or nervousness in her movements—only an arrogant assertion of sovereignty.
Russell walked beside her, being led by the hand, quietly feeling the gazes directed at him.
There were also malicious values that piled up until they became tiresome.
The two returned to the classroom with great fanfare.
The classroom was already quite full.
The previously noisy classroom fell silent the moment they appeared.
That moment was very brief.
It lasted only two or three seconds.
But during those two or three seconds, all eyes were focused on their clasped hands.
Mary still didn't let go.
She took Russell's hand and led him through the row of desks and chairs to their usual seats by the window.
Then she finally released his hand and took her seat.
Russell sat beside her.
Sunlight streaming through the window poured onto the table between them, spreading a warm golden light.
Mary didn't look at him.
She simply took her textbook out of her bag, opened it, picked up a pen, and began writing something in her notebook.
Everything seemed exactly the same as usual.
But now, everything had changed.
The classroom gradually returned to its usual noise level.
However, those gazes occasionally turned toward the two of them before quickly looking away again.
Russell couldn't remember how he spent the afternoon.
He looked like he was awake, yet also like he was asleep.
One thing was certain—he hadn't absorbed anything from this class.
When the bell signaling the end of the day's classes rang, the professor finally announced the end of class.
Students stood up one by one, packed their belongings, and left.
Most of them glanced at the two figures in the last row before leaving.
Russell leaned against the wall, lost in thought, while Mary sat leisurely, smiling even at the gazes directed at her.
Gradually, everyone left the classroom until only the two of them remained.
Russell came back to his senses at that point.
And then he met the girl's smiling blue eyes.
"School's over?"
He asked.
"Mm."
Mary nodded.
"Then… let's go."
Russell said this and began straightening his appearance. Packing was finished. It was time to leave.
Just then, Mary's voice suddenly echoed in his ears.
"Russell."
"Hm?"
Russell stopped and instinctively turned around.
"What is it?"
Mary sat beside him, her gaze wandering here and there as though she were gathering courage.
"From today onward…"
She paused.
"I'll do my best to help you get used to it."
Russell paused for a moment before speaking. "Used to what?"
Hearing this, the corners of the girl's lips lifted slightly. She reached out and took Russell's hand.
"Of course, getting used to it."
As she said this, she lightly pulled his arm, drawing the unsuspecting Russell in front of her. Without saying a word, she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him.
Just like she had done to Russell in that empty classroom that afternoon.
"This too."
The scent of white camellias once again suddenly enveloped Russell.
In that instant, the soft sensation, the warm body heat, and the sound of a heartbeat right beside his mouth filled all his senses.
Russell was stunned.
Because of the same person and the same event, he had gone blank twice.
Mary hugged him like that, gently resting her chin on top of his head. It was as though she had found a lost treasure once more.
She wrapped both arms around his head and gently, slowly stroked his hair with her fingers.
Russell's voice came out muffled from within the girl's arms, carrying a hint of helplessness.
"This is a classroom."
"I know."
Mary's voice came from above. There was a hint of amusement in it.
"But there's no one here right now, right?"
As she spoke, the arms wrapped around his neck tightened even more, as though declaring something.
"It'll be like this in the future too."
She said.
"Every day, until you get used to it."
"Until you come to see all of this as something ordinary.
If I stop, you'll feel uncomfortable."
Russell fell silent.
What the hell is this? Some kind of campus version of the 80s in a new form?
"Um…" he began hesitantly. "Um…?"
"You can't."
Mary cut him off without hesitation and hugged him even tighter.
"You can only do that when I allow it."
There was an unmistakable air of intimidation in the girl's voice, but more than that, it was the capricious tone of a willful child.
Hearing this, Russell sighed and gave up on resisting.
That's enough.
Just leave her be.
In any case, there's actually no loss.
It was unclear how much time had passed.
It was long enough for the sunlight outside the window to change from gold to an orange-tinged red. No footsteps or conversation could be heard from the hallway.
The entire school building had fallen silent; only the faint sound of wind blowing through the gaps in the windows could be heard.
Mary finally let go.
She pulled back slightly to create distance and looked down at Russell in her arms.
At that moment, Russell was looking up at her. His eyes were filled with helplessness.
"Had enough hugging?"
He asked.
Hearing this, the girl tilted her head and seriously thought for a moment.
"If I say I haven't had enough, can I continue?"
"It was a joke."
Mary chuckled. "If we keep hugging like this, someone's going to protest."
"Actually, I've been wanting to protest for a while now."
Russell sighed and straightened up from her lap, fixing his messy hair.
"When you said 'I don't want to be friends with you anymore' in the classroom at noon, I think I understand what you wanted to say now."
"Hm?"
Mary raised one eyebrow. "So, what do you think it means?"
Russell raised his face to meet Mary's gaze and asked in a tone mixed with seriousness and curiosity.
"Will you become my mother?"
A deathly silence hung over the empty classroom.
The moment Russell finished speaking, Mary's smile froze.
For an instant, she didn't know how to respond to that question.
Those eyes, always filled with confidence and composure, were now filled with nothing but confusion and surprise.
What did he just say?
Mother?
When that word was properly transmitted to and interpreted by her brain, Mary's cheeks visibly and rapidly turned red.
From her neck to her ears, a burning red spread.
"You… you…"
She pointed at Russell, but although her lips trembled slightly, she couldn't utter a single coherent word.
That face, which always wore a polite smile, was now filled with shame, indignation, and disbelief.
"You… I…"
She finally mustered the courage to take that step and finally created that ambiguous atmosphere where affection seeped through.
Have you ever seen a mother hug her son like that?
Have you ever seen a mother's heart pound and her face turn bright red when she hugs her son?
That damn chameleon!
Mary screamed internally, but her face was bright red and she couldn't say a single word.
She could only glare at him with teary eyes, as though that gaze was condemning his lack of understanding regarding romance.
Russell looked at her, at her body trembling slightly with shame and anger, and at her ears that looked like they were bleeding, and in the end, he couldn't help but chuckle.
"You're still laughing!"
Mary finally found her voice.
"Hmph!"
She angrily stood up, behaving as though she was going to leave him behind and go home alone.
Russell watched the girl's resolute back. Her determined footsteps echoed several times before suddenly stopping.
Mary stopped at the doorway.
Then she took a deep breath, turned her face, and looked at Russell—still flushed and wearing a resentful expression.
"Why are you still standing there?"
Her hand was still on the doorframe, her slender fingers slightly curled, as though waiting for something.
Russell smiled, stood up, picked up his backpack, and walked toward her with slow steps.
"Let's go."
He approached her.
Mary glanced at him, then looked away, pushed open the classroom door, and walked out first.
Russell followed behind her.
The hallway was silent; the only sounds echoing in the empty space were their footsteps.
Just as Mary reached the corner of the stairs, she suddenly stopped.
Russell almost bumped into her.
"What's wrong?"
Mary didn't turn around.
She stood at the landing at the corner of the stairs with her back to him, simply standing there.
Sunset light streamed in from the side window, enveloping her in a warm glow.
Two seconds passed.
She reached her hand behind her back.
That hand extended slowly, as though hesitating or giving him time to react.
Her fingers were slightly spread, and the tips glowed a faint pink under the sunset.
"Hand."
Her voice came from in front. It was very soft, carrying a deliberately composed tone.
"Take the initiative."
Russell was momentarily at a loss for words.
He looked at the hand extended toward him, then laughed.
And he stepped forward and took it.
Mary's hand moved slightly within his palm.
And then her fingers slipped between his and intertwined.
Fingers interlaced.
Exactly the same as at noon.
It was as though they were in the classroom.
She didn't turn around, but he noticed that the tips of her ears had turned red again.
"Let's go."
She said.
Her voice was still soft, but there was something more than before. Satisfaction, or the triumphant air of someone who had succeeded, could be felt.
The two walked down the stairs hand in hand and left the school building.
The sunset stretched their shadows long, and the shadows overlapped until it was impossible to tell whose was whose.
In front of the school gate, where carriages waited.
Mary finally stopped walking.
She turned around to face him.
The sunset illuminated her face, making her blue eyes shine even brighter.
A faint blush remained on her cheeks, and the corners of her mouth were slightly upturned.
"See you tomorrow."
She said.
"Mm."
Russell nodded. "See you tomorrow."
The girl let go of his hand and took a step forward.
Just as Russell was about to see her off, he saw Mary turn around right in front of him.
And she took a step forward.
Very close.
Russell was so close to her that he could see the curve of her eyelashes, smell the white-tea fragrance drifting from her body, and feel her chest rise and fall slightly with each breath.
She gently brought her face close to his profile.
Then—
Her lips lightly touched his cheek.
It was over in an instant.
It was as light as a feather falling onto the surface of water.
And then she took a step back.
She retreated so quickly that Russell didn't even have time to react.
A warm sensation remained on his cheek, as pleasant as being gently touched by a bubble.
Mary gave a small laugh, then took a step back, slightly lifted her skirt, and gave a light bow.
It was a very standard, ladylike bow, but she added a touch of playfulness to it.
"Well then," she straightened her back and said while winking at him. "See you tomorrow, Russell."
As she said this, she turned around and walked toward the waiting carriage.
Her steps were so light it was as though she were dancing.
Before the carriage door closed, she leaned out once more and waved at him.
Russell waved back.
The carriage rumbled away and disappeared around the street corner.
He stood there, gazing in the direction the carriage had disappeared, and looked up at the sky dyed red by the sunset.
A long time passed.
He raised his hand and touched his cheek.
A faint warmth still lingered there.
"Should I consider this a surprise attack…?"
He muttered to himself. His voice was carried away by the wind, and then he gave a troubled smile.
"I guess I'll just have to get used to this…"'
…
Inside the carriage, Mary leaned back against the soft cushion and covered her face with both hands.
Her ears were still burning hot, her cheeks were hot, and her heartbeat was several beats faster than usual.
They kissed.
They really kissed.
Even if it was a kiss on the cheek, even if it lasted only an instant, it was definitely a kiss.
The corners of the girl's mouth formed an arc she couldn't suppress no matter what she did, rising uncontrollably.
She couldn't help but laugh out loud.
"Miss, are you all right?"
The driver asked from outside.
"I'm fine."
Mary quickly regained her composure, but the corners of her mouth were still smiling. "It's nothing."
She leaned back against the cushion and stared at the passing city scenery outside the window.
Life is getting better and better.
…
By the time Russell returned to Baker Street, it was already completely dark.
Just as he pushed open the door and was about to greet Mrs. Hudson as usual, he heard voices coming from above.
Charlotte seemed to be talking with someone.
"Mrs. Hudson, who is it?"
Russell asked with interest.
"Ah, it's Mycroft."
Mrs. Hudson said, "It looks like Charlotte called for him."
Hearing this, Russell raised one eyebrow, glanced once more at Charlotte's room, and then went upstairs.
He pushed open the door and saw the familiar man sitting in the armchair next to Charlotte, wearing a perfectly tailored suit and holding a cup of black tea.
Charlotte was sitting on her usual sofa, holding a cup of black tea in her hand, her expression blank.
Hearing the sound, the two turned around at the same time.
"Good evening, Mr. Russell."
Mycroft smiled at him.
"Good evening, Mr. Mycroft."
Russell smiled and replied, "What brings you here today?"
"Charlotte called for me," Mycroft said without hiding anything. "Perfect timing. I was just thinking I'd like to try Mrs. Hudson's cooking as well."
"It's fine," Russell nodded and stepped inside.
Just as he was about to look for a seat, he noticed that the only remaining seat was sandwiched between the two of them.
For some reason, something felt off.
But Russell still sat down.
Just as he was about to open his mouth, Charlotte's voice rang out first.
"You came home later than usual today."
She said this while turning her gaze to Russell and added, "It's already quite late."
"Yeah," Russell gave a light nod. "Something happened at school and I was delayed, and I also missed the tram on the way back, so I walked home."
"What happened?"
Charlotte casually threw out the question.
"It's nothing," Russell shrugged. "I just did an interview for a student magazine."
"Another interview?"
"No, the magazine was printed and sold out at school…" Russell said with a troubled expression.
"In that case, you should know——or rather, Mr. Mycroft should know."
"I understand," Mycroft said with a faint smile. "After all, you're a celebrity in London now."
As he spoke, his gaze lingered on Russell for a while.
And then the smile at the corners of his mouth deepened even further.
For no particular reason, Russell felt a chill run down his spine.
Charlotte didn't seem like she was going to give up so easily. She set down her teacup, stared at Russell, and lightly sniffed the air.
"There's a faint scent," she said. "White camellia. Were you with Mary Morstan?"
"We… always walk home from school together."
Russell asked, "Is there a problem?"
Hearing this, Charlotte furrowed her brows slightly.
"No, there's no problem."
She looked away and picked up her teacup once more.
Seeing this, Mycroft raised one eyebrow and gave Russell a meaningful look.
"Um, by the way," Russell tried to change the subject and cleared his throat twice.
"Charlotte, what business do you have with Mr. Mycroft?"
"It's about the Professor."
"Mycroft said.
"Charlotte told me everything that happened to you on Clement Street."
He paused.
"Honestly, I was somewhat surprised by your actions, but not entirely surprised."
"It matches the image I had of Charlotte very well."
Hearing this, Russell gave an awkward laugh, while Charlotte beside him spoke with a disdainful expression.
"Mycroft, I didn't call you here to say such ridiculous things."
"Don't get worked up, little sister."
Mycroft shrugged and spoke in a calm, unhurried tone.
"This is advice for you. Don't make decisions in a moment of impulse that you'll regret for the rest of your life."
"I don't need to be reminded of that every single time."
"That would be for the best."
Mycroft took a sip of black tea.
"Then let's get back to the main topic."
He looked at Russell.
"As a witness who was at the scene from the very beginning, your testimony is needed, Russell."
"Please tell me everything you saw that night, without omitting a single detail."
…