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"The doctor said it's best to change the gauze once a day," Blake recalled. "It's been about twenty-four hours, so it's time."
"Do you want me to help?" Mahiru Shiina pressed her soft lips together, her voice gentle. "It might be hard to do it by yourself."
"Then I'll leave it to you, Mahiru."
"Where's the sterile gauze?"
"In the first aid kit. I'll grab it."
"..."
Blake quickly returned with the kit.
"Sit down first," Mahiru said, pointing at the sofa. She took the kit from him and pulled out fresh gauze and disinfectant.
Once everything was ready, the "angel" sat down across from him and spoke softly, "I'm going to clean the wound. It might sting a little."
"Doctor Mahiru, feel free to go all out. Compared to an anal fistula, this is nothing."
"Eh?"
"When I was a kid, I went to the hospital with my dad and saw a patient with one. When they changed the dressing, the screams echoed down the whole hallway… Do you know what that is, Mahiru?"
"Sorry. I have absolutely no desire to know."
"..."
Mahiru leaned forward, gently peeling off the gauze from his forehead. Her pink lips pressed together as she widened her eyes, focusing intently while disinfecting the wound.
They were barely a fist's distance apart.
Blake could clearly catch the faint, sweet scent coming from her.
Even this close, her skin looked flawless, soft as if it could break at a touch, without the slightest blemish or dullness. Her face was so small it felt like even a mask couldn't quite fit—ridiculously cute, honestly.
Under his gaze, a blush slowly spread across Mahiru's fair, jade-like cheeks. She lightly bit her lower lip.
"Mr. Blake, don't stare."
"Maintaining eye contact with medical staff during treatment is basic respect," he shot back. "I'm respecting Doctor Mahiru."
"I'm not medical staff," she said, shooting him an annoyed look. "Close your eyes."
"..."
A moment later, the cleaning was done.
A fresh piece of sterile gauze was neatly placed on his forehead.
"That's it." Mahiru quickly leaned back, putting some distance between them. She lowered her head and began organizing the first aid kit, sorting everything meticulously—her perfectionist tendencies clearly kicking in again. "It looks like it's healing well. In a couple more days, you can switch to a bandage."
"Thanks for the help," Blake said softly. "As a reward, how about I teach you how to ride a bike tonight? Once you learn, buying groceries will be way easier."
Mahiru hesitated, her lips pressed together, her gaze wavering.
"But your forehead…"
"It's just a small cut," Blake said dryly. "I didn't hit my head so hard I lost my brain."
"…Alright. After dinner, then."
8 p.m.
Night had settled in.
The residential area had gone quiet.
Blake wheeled his bicycle outside and sent a message: "Mahiru, ready to go learn?"
"Give me a moment, I'll be right out."
The door next door soon opened, and Mahiru stepped out in a new outfit.
Under the streetlight, Blake's eyes lit up.
The usually soft and gentle Mahiru had completely transformed into a sporty, energetic girl.
First, her hair.
Her long waist-length hair was tied up into a clean high ponytail, with her bangs brushed up to reveal her smooth, pale forehead. She still had that gentle cuteness, but now there was a touch of sharp, refreshing confidence.
Then her clothes.
She wore a simple athletic jacket on top and clean white sneakers—but instead of her usual skirt, she had on jeans.
Indigo skinny jeans, no less, perfectly outlining her long, slender, beautifully shaped legs.
Is this what they call being born to wear jeans? Blake couldn't help but think.
"I looked it up online," Mahiru said, her cheeks faintly pink as she turned slightly to the side, clearly a bit self-conscious. "They said it's dangerous to ride a bike in a skirt—apparently the hem can get caught in the wheel… So I followed the advice and changed into jeans… Is it okay?"
"Of course. Jeans are perfect for practicing," Blake replied, quickly pulling his gaze back and acting like nothing happened. "Didn't expect you to have clothes other than skirts."
"Girls naturally have lots of different outfits," Mahiru said softly, her face still tinged red. "I just… never wore them before."
"So I'm the first to see you in jeans?" Blake straightened up, putting on a serious expression. "I'm honored."
Mahiru puffed her cheeks slightly. "Let's just go to the park already."
"..."
Blake pushed the bike while Mahiru walked beside him, the two heading toward the park at the end of the street.
Before long, they stepped into the small park together.
There were no evening dance crowds here—by this hour, the place was quiet, filled only with the chirping of insects.
"First, come try the seat height," Blake said, parking the bike and turning to her. "For beginners, the saddle height is really important. We need to adjust it to fit you."
"Okay."
Mahiru stepped forward and tried to mount the bike, but as she sat down, her body wobbled unsteadily.
"Hop off for a second," Blake said. "The seat's a bit high. I'll lower it until your feet can touch the ground when you sit."
"The seat can be adjusted?" Mahiru asked, curious.
"Of course. Even car steering wheels can adjust—why not a bicycle?" Blake crouched down. "See this knob under the seat?"
Mahiru bent forward slightly, hands on her knees as she peered closer. Her hair swayed gently in the night breeze. "I see it… You know a lot more than I expected, Mr. Blake."
"Please, feel free to compliment me a little more."
Mahiru: "..."
"That should do it." Blake stood up. "Try sitting again."
Mahiru nodded lightly and got back on. This time, it was just right—both her feet could firmly touch the ground.
"Height's good." Blake nodded. "Next, try holding the brakes."
"Here?"
"Yep."
"Rest both hands lightly on the brakes, spread your legs, and push against the ground to move forward slowly. Use the friction to glide and get a feel for balance."
"Okay."
Mahiru looked serious as she followed his instructions. Her long legs, wrapped in those fitted jeans, pushed against the ground as she slowly rolled forward.
"Don't rush to use the pedals," Blake guided from the side. "Just glide for a bit first and get used to it."
"Got it."
She nodded earnestly, wobbling slightly as she moved forward. Her movements were clumsy, but under the moonlight, her eyes sparkled with determination.
Time passed quietly like that.
Half an hour later, Mahiru was already able to pedal a couple of rotations—her balance and coordination clearly pretty good.
But as she rolled down a gentle slope, the front wheel suddenly hit a small, unnoticed stone.
The fragile balance shattered instantly.
"B-Blake!"
The "angel" let out a nervous cry.
"....."