Awkward.
Very awkward.
What is actually going on with this atmosphere?
Shirayuki stared at the hotpot in the center of the table. Steam rose slowly… yet not a single one of them truly started a conversation.
…seriously?
Then her gaze shifted.
Aizen—
Wait.
Why is all the meat being put in at once?
That's not cooking. That's a massacre of ingredients.
…and the others aren't any less strange.
Yuu only gave a small smile, as if everything was normal. Ryuusei looked relaxed, like this was nothing unusual. And Akira, sitting beside her, remained silent.
No comment.
No reaction.
…doesn't a single one of them find this strange?
…or am I the only one at this table who still has common sense?
"Do all of you…" She paused for a moment, looking at them one by one.
"…not know how to eat hotpot?"
Silence, briefly.
"I do," Aizen replied flatly.
His hand kept moving, pressing the floating slices of meat down so they would fully submerge.
"But it's more efficient to put everything in at once."
…efficient?
"That's not efficient. That's barbaric," Shirayuki muttered quietly.
Yuu let out a small chuckle.
"I just wanted to see how far he'd take it."
"You let him?"
"Of course. It's interesting."
Ryuusei leaned back casually in his chair.
"Besides, it'll all cook in the end, right?"
Shirayuki looked at him flatly.
"With that logic, you could cook instant noodles without water."
"Hmm. Sounds like a challenge."
"Don't."
…seriously, what is wrong with these people?
Beside her, Akira finally moved.
She picked up a ladle, gently stirring the contents of the pot—separating the pieces of meat that had been submerged for too long.
"If you leave it like that," she said calmly,
"the texture will be ruined."
Shirayuki turned to look at her.
…finally, someone sane.
Shirayuki shifted her gaze back to the pot in the center of the table.
The pot was divided into two. One side was a deep red, chili oil floating on the surface—clearly spicy.
The other side was clearer, a light broth with gentle steam rising from it.
…and of course—
almost all the meat was in the red side.
"You didn't even separate the broths?"
Aizen glanced at it briefly.
"Spicy flavors come through faster."
"That's not the point."
Shirayuki pressed her temple lightly.
"A dual-broth hotpot is meant to be enjoyed differently, not turned into some extreme experiment."
A brief silence followed.
"Experiments produce data," Aizen replied shortly.
…hopeless.
Shirayuki let out a quiet sigh, then reached for her chopsticks.
"In that case, at least don't ruin everything," she muttered.
She directed her chopsticks toward the pot—
but paused for a moment.
The meat she wanted was almost entirely submerged in the red broth.
…so there's no other choice, huh.
Just as she was about to reach further—
"This one."
A small bowl was gently slid toward her.
Shirayuki turned her head.
Akira wasn't looking at her.
Her gaze remained on the pot, one hand still holding the ladle.
Inside the bowl, a few slices of meat were neatly arranged—not overcooked, not falling apart.
Clearly taken from the clear broth side.
"It's done," she said briefly.
Shirayuki looked at the bowl for a few seconds. Then she lowered her gaze and picked up a piece with her chopsticks.
Warm.
Just right.
Not overcooked.
"Thank you."
Akira only gave a slight nod.
Yuu shifted her gaze toward Shirayuki.
"Are you feeling better now?" she asked gently.
"I was quite surprised when you suddenly collapsed in class."
Shirayuki looked at him for a moment.
"Ah… I'm fine now."
Yuu gave a small smile.
"Good to hear."
"If you already knew your condition wasn't good,"
Aizen said flatly,
"why did you force yourself to go to school?"
A brief silence fell.
Shirayuki slightly furrowed her brows.
…straight to the point, huh.
"It's not something serious," she finally replied.
"Pushing yourself in that condition," he continued, his voice low and even,
"isn't just irrational."
He paused.
"It's dangerous."
Silence.
His gaze didn't waver even slightly.
"Fainting in class is not a trivial matter."
His tone remained calm—yet firmer now.
"Or do you simply not care?"
Silence.
Shirayuki met his gaze.
"That's not for you to decide."
Aizen looked at her.
His gaze was deep, unwavering. The air between them felt tense.
Across the table, Yuu fell quiet, her usual smile fading slightly. Ryuusei raised a brow, watching without interrupting.
Several seconds passed—
no one spoke.
…strange.
That gaze.
The way he spoke.
It was the same as what she saw in that memory.
Their relationship—
Shirayuki and Aizen—
looked good from the outside.
Calm.
Stable.
Without meaningful conflict.
But in reality… there was nothing truly shared between them.
Unlike what was written in the novel, which claimed Shirayuki loved him. The truth was different. Their relationship was nothing more than an arranged engagement.
Mutual respect.
Mutual courtesy.
And nothing more than that.
Shirayuki lifted her gaze.
Aizen was still looking at her.
Unchanged.
Unwavering.
That same gaze she had seen in that memory—
calm, cold, and unreadable.
Nothing should have changed.
And yet—something felt slightly different.
Shirayuki looked away first.
"I already said I'm fine."
Her voice was flatter than before.
Aizen fell silent for a moment.
"You don't look like it."
Short.
Emotionless.
But enough to make Shirayuki furrow her brows again.
…stubborn.
"Your judgment isn't always correct."
"And ignoring it doesn't make it wrong."
Silence returned between them.
Shirayuki didn't respond immediately.
Her gaze stayed on Aizen—but this time, without words.
A few seconds passed. Then she looked away.
Her chopsticks moved slowly, picking up a piece of meat from her bowl—too calm, too controlled.
She didn't argue.
She didn't agree.
Just silence.
The atmosphere that had briefly softened didn't fully disappear.
It only… lingered.
Yuu glanced at Shirayuki, then at Aizen. Her smile wasn't as light as before.
Ryuusei rested his chin on his hand, watching casually.
Beside Shirayuki, Akira finally paused for a moment. The ladle in her hand hung still in the air before she turned her head. Her gaze shifted between Shirayuki and Aizen.
"Are you two… close?"
The question slipped out so naturally.
Without pressure—yet enough to make the atmosphere fall silent again.
Shirayuki tensed slightly.
…what kind of question is that.
At the same time, Aizen turned his head.
Their eyes met briefly—before both of them looked away toward Akira.
A brief silence.
"…no," Aizen replied first, as flat as usual.
Shirayuki gave a small nod. "As he said."
Akira was silent for a moment, then turned her attention back to the pot.
"…I see."
There was no judgment in her voice. She simply accepted it as fact.
And yet, for some reason, after that answer was given—
the atmosphere at the table felt a little more… empty than before.
A brief silence.
"Childhood friend."
Aizen answered first.
Short.
Without hesitation.
As if that alone was enough to explain everything.
Akira paused for a moment.
Her gaze shifted to Aizen, then to Shirayuki—
observing, without rushing to any conclusion.
"I see."
That was all she said.
Brief.
Yet enough to close the question.
No one added anything after that.
The conversation naturally tapered off.
Spoons and chopsticks moved again.
The rising steam from the pot slowly filled the silence, making it feel… lighter.
Not fully comfortable—but no longer as tense as before.
Shirayuki focused on her food, without speaking much.
Occasionally, small sounds from the pot or the clinking of utensils could be heard—
just enough to keep the atmosphere alive.
Time passed without anyone noticing.
And before they realized it, the gathering came to an end.
Without much conversation, they parted ways—each heading in their own direction.
***
The return trip felt quieter than she remembered.
There was no meaningful conversation inside the car.
Only the soft hum of the engine and the scenery slowly shifting beyond the window.
Shirayuki leaned back in her seat, staring outside without really focusing on anything.
…strange.
The traces of that conversation still lingered in her mind.
But gradually, an exhaustion she hadn't noticed began to press down on her.
Until the car finally stopped.
She got out without a word.
Her steps were slow as she entered the house, then her room.
The door closed softly behind her.
Shirayuki didn't change immediately.
She simply walked toward the bed—
then let herself fall onto it.
…for a moment, silence.
Her eyes stared at the ceiling.
A few seconds later, her eyelids began to feel heavy.
…it's fine, just for a bit.
The thought drifted vaguely.
Time seemed to blur between consciousness and sleep.
But even within that fading darkness—faces still surfaced occasionally.
Aizen.
His cold gaze.
His words that always went straight to the point.
And Akira.
That question at the table.
"…are you two close?"
Shirayuki frowned slightly in her sleep.
…why did she ask that?
It wasn't small talk.
Akira wasn't the type to care about something meaningless.
Then why ask about her relationship with Aizen?
Shirayuki fell silent within her own thoughts.
Was she… interested in Aizen?
The thought appeared on its own.
Not certain.
Not exaggerated.
Just a small possibility that couldn't be dismissed immediately.
But Aizen himself didn't show anything.
He remained the same as always.
Cold. Distant. Hard to read.
Shirayuki exhaled softly in her sleep.
…no.
Maybe I'm just overthinking something unnecessary.
And slowly—
her thoughts sank deeper into sleep.