Down the long, crowded corridor, the loud chatter of high school students bounced aggressively off the pale walls. Zenjiro dragged his black leather shoes across the polished floor. He kept his head tilted downward. He stared directly at the dirty scuff marks on the floorboards as he walked toward his classroom door.
Inside his chest, a heavy frustration churned. He thought about the chaotic events in the living room just an hour ago. He had carried Liora exactly like a spoiled princess all the way to the low dining table.
Her soft weight had pressed completely flush against his ribs. He accommodated her noisy tantrum entirely to secure the perfect visual angle. He desperately wanted to look upward from his position on the sofa. He wanted to see the hidden pearl buried deep inside the dark, pleated shell of her school uniform.
He completely failed.
The stiff fabric bunched together entirely wrong, blocking his line of sight at the very last second. He did not get to see the prize. A sharp sting of raw regret bit the back of his neck. It was completely pathetic.
"Good morning, Zenjiro-kun."
The sweet, painful voice sliced cleanly through the loud hallway noise.
Zenjiro stopped walking. His breath caught sharply in his throat. The familiar tone hit his ears like a violent physical punch to the stomach. He slowly lifted his head.
Shinohara Asuka stood directly beside the sliding wooden door of their classroom. She held her heavy canvas bag securely with both hands. The morning sunlight caught the neat, dark strands of her hair. Her white blouse was perfectly ironed and completely flawless. She smiled a small, gentle smile.
She looked exactly the same way she did the very first time he saw her. She was the exact same girl who triggered his foolish love at first sight. She behaved perfectly like a proper lady right now.
It was a completely different face compared to the cold, disgusted expression she wore when she brutally rejected him. She did not look like a polite lady at all when she was smoking that ugly cigarette behind the gymnasium.
The brutal pain he tried so hard to forget rushed straight back into his chest. It burned like hot acid.
He swallowed the heavy, dry lump in his throat.
"Good morning," Zenjiro replied. His voice sounded thin and incredibly strained.
He did not look at her face for another second. He walked past her and stepped into the noisy room. He pulled his wooden chair back and sat down heavily at his desk. The loud chime of the morning bell rang out, and the morning class officially started.
---
Deep into the cold night, the flat white ceiling of the bedroom offered absolutely no comfort. Zenjiro lay perfectly still on his mattress. He kept his arms resting stiffly at his sides. The thick blue blanket trapped his body heat.
The agonizing memory of Asuka's fake smile replayed directly behind his closed eyelids. It was a jagged, turning knife inside his ribs.
I need to distract myself, Zenjiro thought desperately.
He slowly turned his head. Across the dark room, Liora lay entirely flat on her own bed. The dim orange light from the distant streetlamp cast a soft glow over her sleeping form. She was just about to fall into a deep sleep.
Watching her breathe in the quiet shadows suddenly became incredibly attractive to his tired eyes. The dark, twisted urge rose violently in his stomach.
I want to reach her. I want to feel that burning warmth again.
An entire hour dragged by in total silence. Liora finally seemed to fall into a heavy, unbroken sleep. Her chest rose and fell in a slow, hypnotic rhythm.
Now is the perfect time, right?
He tensed the muscles in his legs. He prepared to push the heavy blanket aside and stand up.
But then, cold logic slammed hard into his chaotic mind. He stopped moving entirely.
Wait. If I get caught while I am physically standing over her bed, it will be way too hard to make a believable alibi.
He calculated the severe risks in the dark. If Liora woke up while he is on her bed, it would be hard to explain. If Clara suddenly opened the bedroom door using the master key, he would be caught red-handed. He would have absolutely no valid excuse for invading his sister's personal mattress. But the reverse scenario offered complete, flawless safety.
If Liora was the one who came to my bed, the dynamic shifts entirely. If I get caught touching her bare thigh again while she occupies my physical space, I can think of many ways to form a solid alibi. I can just blame her for rolling into me.
The safest option was clearly just to wait for the perfect opportunity to arrive on its own.
He concluded he would wait to avoid the higher risk. He relaxed his tense muscles and sank back down into his soft pillow.
Sometimes, Liora suffered from terrible nightmares. When she woke up shaking from the bad dreams, she almost always crossed the room. Most of the time, she slept right beside him whenever she woke up from a nightmare to steal his body heat.
I should just wait here.
The minutes bled away into the freezing room. He stared intently at her sleeping figure. He waited for a sudden gasp or a terrified whimper.
Time passed.
The red numbers on his digital desk clock flipped slowly. It was three o'clock in the morning. Liora never woke up. The heavy exhaustion finally pulled Zenjiro under, and he fell into a frustrated, empty sleep.
Two full weeks passed in a slow, agonizing blur. Nothing happened.
Early one morning, the smell of fried eggs filled the bright dining hall. Zenjiro sat slumped in his wooden chair. He picked up his chopsticks and pushed a piece of salted salmon around his white ceramic plate. He felt incredibly tired.
Damn. I patiently waited for Liora to go to my bed every single night.
The trap remained completely empty. She had absolutely no nightmares lately. Her deep, peaceful sleep completely ruined his dark plans. He spent fourteen straight nights vibrating with anxious energy in the dark, entirely for nothing.
Directly beside him at the low wooden table, Liora chewed her hot rice. She lowered her silver spoon and stared at his face.
"Onii-chan," Liora called out. Her blue eyes narrowed in slight concern. "Is there something wrong?"
Zenjiro kept his gaze fixed on his plate. "It's nothing. I am just thinking of a complex school project."
He picked up a small clump of white rice and started eating again. He chewed slowly to avoid any further questions.
"Onii-chan, you have eyebags lately," Liora pointed out. She leaned her upper body slightly forward over the table. "Are you not sleeping enough?"
"It's not an eyebag," Zenjiro lied smoothly. His voice stayed completely flat.
Liora tilted her head. She accepted the weak excuse without a single second thought. "Okay."
She went back to eating her breakfast.
Down below the edge of the wooden table, the scene triggered a completely different reaction. Zenjiro kept his head pointed straight ahead, but he used his peripheral vision to aggressively scan his right side.
He saw the thick pleats of her dark uniform skirt resting against her chair. He saw the smooth, pale skin of her bare thighs completely exposed to the morning air. The heavy, twisted urge flared violently in his chest again. The fourteen days of total starvation made the hunger much worse.
I wanna lift it up.
One rainy Friday after school, Zenjiro walked directly to his bedroom. He dropped his heavy leather bag onto the floorboards and collapsed onto his mattress. The house was completely quiet.
He stared blindly up at the flat white ceiling. His mind started connecting old, specific patterns. He thought about their behavior during middle school.
On random Fridays, Liora used to cross the room and sleep with him on his mattress. She always did it while wearing her heavy school uniform. She did that specific routine because there was no class tomorrow on Saturday, and she could lazily wear the school uniform all night long.
If the pattern held true today, the perfect opportunity was finally arriving.
Zenjiro stared at his ceiling, desperately waiting for the thing that might or might not come. The heavy rain drummed a steady rhythm against the glass window.
Soft footsteps entered the door.
Liora walked inside the room. She did not wear her casual pink sleepwear. She was still fully dressed in her dark high school uniform. The old middle school pattern aligned perfectly.
She walked across the room and sat directly on the edge of Zenjiro's bed. The metal springs groaned under her sudden weight. Her bare left thigh rested just inches away from his right hip.
Zenjiro's heart beat incredibly fast.
Thump. Thump.
The loud rhythm pounded heavily against his ribs. He kept his breathing slow and even. He waited for her to drop her weight onto his pillows.
"Onii-chan," Liora said brightly. She looked down at his face. "Teach me about math during the weekend starting tomorrow. I'm completely struggling."
Zenjiro blinked. The simple, mundane request completely derailed his racing thoughts.
He gave a slow, rigid nod.
Liora smiled a wide, happy smile. She stood up from the edge of his mattress. She turned her back, walked away, and went straight back to her own bed. She dropped her math textbook onto the table and began laying down on her own bed.
A crushing, heavy wave of pure disappointment crashed into Zenjiro's chest. He felt entirely foolish. He actually thought it was really it. He thought the long wait was finally over.
He stayed completely still on his mattress. He waited a bit longer in the quiet room, holding onto a tiny shred of hope just in case she changed her mind.
Nothing happened.
The boring weekend passed. Monday finally arrived.
The loud chime of the lunch bell echoed through the crowded high school corridors. Inside the classroom, the noisy chatter of hungry students erupted instantly. Wooden chairs scraped harshly against the floorboards.
Zenjiro zipped his heavy leather bag closed. He grabbed his dark blue bento box from his desk drawer and then stood up from his chair. He was just about to go and find a quiet place to eat.
Then, a sweet, familiar voice called him from across the aisle.
"Zenjiro-kun, do you have a moment?"