"Well... I wouldn’t really call it ‘like,’ but when I was little, there was someone who made my heart skip a beat." Why did he actually feel jealous? Even now, Harutaki couldn’t quite figure out what kind of feeling he held toward the girl lying behind him. Was it the thrill of watching her break down, the smug satisfaction of seeing her perfect mask crack? Or was it lust, the desire to stain this beautiful girl’s flawless skin with his color and scent, to mold her into something entirely his own? Or maybe… after Shirasagi-senpai and Shihou-san, the greedy, lecherous Hoshikawa Harutaki had fallen for Nogami Nogami too? He wanted to understand her heart. He wanted to see the side of her that no one else could. He wanted to savor those rare, fleeting moments when her icy facade softened, gentle and sweet as a slice of cheesecake. But maybe that was what youth really was, encountering one dazzling thing after another, yet never being able to hold onto any of it. Always reaching, always missing. And since he couldn’t be sure, since he couldn’t say anything out loud, he decided he might as well just bury his head in the sand like an ostrich. Pretend nothing was happening. A shameful but strangely effective escape. He asked himself and came to a sober conclusion. Whether it was infatuation or real affection, right now, he wasn’t in a position to choose. Appeasement was no solution, but any confession to anyone would irreversibly change everything. Their fragile balance could shatter in an instant, like a snow globe dropped from a great height, scattering every beautiful thing inside it into dust. “If you keep saying stuff like that, I’ll be too jealous to sleep. Damn it.” ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ 𝓷𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓵※𝖿𝗂𝗋𝖾※𝙣𝙚𝙩 Harutaki took her words lightly, his tone teasing. “Well, after hearing something that nice, I’m definitely having sweet dreams tonight.” The room was dark. Only a thin beam of moonlight slipped through the curtains, tracing the faint outline of Harutaki’s hair, somewhere between violet and black. Nogami thought it was a pity she couldn’t see his expression right now. “Actually, I remembered that boy again recently. The one who made my heart flutter. It was in a dream.” The memory felt bittersweet, like the tang of green lime mixed with the sugary richness of macarons. Nogami spoke slowly, almost idly, as she began recounting a fragment of her childhood. “Because of my mother’s job, our family once lived in Minato for a while. Compared to Setagaya or Chiyoda, it felt like another world altogether, even though it was still Tokyo. The wide, quiet streets, the few lively but never noisy passersby… and at Shiba Park, the golden ginkgo trees in winter, the pale pink cherry blossoms in spring. Back then, I believed seeing those two colors meant I was truly living through the seasons.” “I’ve always been this way, you know. Mean, maybe even twisted. I didn’t yet understand the thrill of bullying someone, but I found a strange joy in breaking pretty dolls. Hearing that must be disappointing, huh? Even as a kid, I wasn’t exactly the ‘adorable little girl’ type.” He couldn’t deny–  it was awful. But Harutaki stayed silent, letting her continue. “During the spring break before I was supposed to transfer to a famous Setagaya middle school, like my father wanted, I sat on the grass under a cherry tree, playing with one of my dolls. I’d long since lost count of how many replacements it had gone through. On days without private lessons, I’d spend hours just… sitting there. Pretty boring, right? But I loved watching my dolls go from perfect to ruined, bit by bit.” What a twisted child. Maybe her parents had been too busy to discipline her properly. Or maybe, more frighteningly, Nogami had learned young how to mask her cruelty behind charm and excellence. “Then, one evening, when I was about to toss out another broken doll, a boy about my age stopped me. He was cute, cuter than me, honestly. Then and now, I still think so.” She tried to imitate the boy’s voice, though the memory had blurred with time. “‘That doll looks expensive! You shouldn’t just throw it away!’” “He actually pulled it out of the trash can, right in front of everyone. His skin must’ve been thicker than leather.” She could still remember the scene, the whispers of passersby mocking him for digging through garbage, the scornful looks they gave, as if both the boy and the broken doll were equally filthy. She could still feel that mix of humiliation, his and hers alike. “‘Who’d want that garbage? Fine, if you like it so much, I’ll just bring you a new one tomorrow.’ And then he thanked me. That idiot actually looked happy.” Well, you can’t expect everyone to be as manipulative as you, can you? Still, imagining that scene made him cringe with secondhand embarrassment. Why try so hard to please a girl you’d just met? “The next afternoon, I went back to the park with two new dolls, as usual. I was making them fight each other when the boy showed up again. I remember it clearly, his face just lit up when he saw me. Like a puppy spotting its owner.” It’s quite rude to compare someone to a puppy, you know, Nogami-san. “I thought he came to ask for the new doll I’d promised, but instead, he proudly showed me the one he’d fixed, stitched it back together himself. It looked awful, but he was so proud. That look on his face, honestly, just like a puppy bringing back a frisbee.” Two times now, both “puppy.” Poor boy, Harutaki thought. What a pitiful child, meeting a devil in an angel’s skin. “Since he was cute and kind of funny, I let him stay. He’d sit beside me and watch while I played. Every time I broke another doll, he’d ask for it, patch it back up into something even uglier, then show it off with that silly grin of his.” Hey, kid, don’t tell me you’ve fallen for that wicked girl? Don’t be fooled by her cute and pretty looks! He could already foresee the boy’s tragic future. “Then one summer, he found out my birthday was coming. He spent all his allowance to buy me this brand-new doll, said I should share it with the other kids, ‘it’s more fun when everyone plays together,’ he told me. Can you believe that? How stupid can you get? Let a bunch of brats ruin your new toy? No thanks. But when I said no, he started lecturing me like some old lady, ‘sharing is important,’ ‘toys are meant to bring people happiness,’ blah blah blah.” A wholesome, good-hearted kid, Harutaki thought. “He really didn’t understand his place. A pet should just wag its tail, not bark orders at its master. I think his name was... Haru? Something like that. I only remember because it sounded like a dog’s name.” “Anyway, I decided to cure him of that ridiculous idea. I told those kids to play with his precious new doll however they wanted. Sure enough, it got trashed worse than ever. When I threw it in the garbage like the others, he didn’t pick it up this time.” “I still remember his face. He’d spent all his savings on that doll, and the girl he liked just smashed it and tossed it out. That pretty, smiling face, suddenly so broken and tear-stained, it was almost adorable.” “…Can I punch you, Nogami-san?” Harutaki couldn’t help it. Her story was just too much. “Oh, no need. That kid already did. He kicked me, hard, right in the stomach. Hurt like hell. After that, I never saw him again. I went back to playing alone in the park with two dolls. But every time I think about it, if I could go back in time in my high-schooler body, I'd definitely throw him into Tokyo Bay. A guy who fights and even kicks a girl's stomach can't be any good, right? He probably can't even get a girlfriend now, nobody would like a violent man..." That was the only time she'd ever been subjected to violence in her life, though, after Harutaki taught her a lesson tonight, it technically became the second time. He didn’t know how to respond. All he could do was stay quiet. “Hey, Hoshikawa. After hearing all that… would you still like someone like ‘Nogami Izumi’? If you say yes, I’ll make a special exception and let you be her boyfriend.” “Dating’s not a one-sided thing, you know. Do you even like me at all, Nogami-san?” He wasn’t falling for her bait again. “Hmm… let’s see. Handsome face, sharp mind, cool under pressure, mature attitude, and you can even step up and protect a girl when needed, yeah, you’ve got all the flags. Oh, and apparently there’s a video of you playing basketball with Murai and that redhead. It’s all over the forums now. A lot of girls say they wouldn’t mind being your next ‘victim,’ Mr. Playboy Hoshikawa.” “Flattered. I’ll add that to my résumé, thanks for the PR boost.” He deflected neatly, as always. “Anyway, good night.” Her voice softened, fading into the dark. Before long, her breathing evened out, calm and steady. After that long, twisted “bedtime story,” Harutaki finally felt drowsy himself. He inched closer, careful not to wake her, and nestled deeper under the blanket, letting the quiet warmth of her presence lull him to sleep.