My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong As Expected

Page 706

Komachi pushed him so hard that his back curled up and his backpack almost fell off. He turned his face and said "Goodbye" to us, then disappeared into the end of the corridor, still in the position of being pushed by Komachi.

I waved vigorously, while she seemed to be watching, frequently lowering her gaze and nodding slightly as she watched him leave.

And so, it was just the two of us left.

In the deserted corridor, only the sound of their footsteps echoed.

The indoor slippers made a clattering sound, while the elegant steps of a model produced a soft, slurping sound, the two completely different sounds intermingling and blending together.

But as we approached the sky bridge connecting the special teaching building to the main teaching building, the footsteps of one of them disappeared.

"...What happened?"

With a snap, as the slightly silly footsteps disappeared, she immediately noticed and stopped walking.

Then, the indoor shoes made a whistling sound.

In an instant, her long, beautiful, jet-black hair, smooth and silky as silk, danced lightly in the wind. She turned to face me, using her slender fingertips to brush a strand of hair from her cheek behind her ear, and a smile appeared on her face that seemed as if it might melt away at any moment.

"…………Um"

The response was ambiguous; it was unclear whether she admitted it or held back. Perhaps she was buying time to think of what to say. Her voice was very soft, almost imperceptible.

The slanting sunlight began to shimmer and reflect on the huge glass windows of the skywalk, making her, who was already a beauty, look even more stunning.

"……nothing"

She was beautiful, lovely, and so stunning that it inspired envy. When she gently lowered her long eyelashes and smiled, I was speechless.

"yes……"

Thinking to myself, "That's good." All I could do was put on a bright, energetic smile.

Actually, I know what I should say.

Whatever it is, just say it! You can talk to me about it, okay? Even if it can't be solved, it might make things a little easier! I'll do my best for you!

That's all you need to say.

However, I could never bring myself to say those words.

I don't want to say those kinds of things.

If I were to tell you everything, I would probably be a little sad, and I would have to suppress that emotion and brush it off with a smile.

I think that by then, I'll probably just be like someone playing a rhythm game, saying things like "I understand," "It's the other person's fault," "Let's have a serious talk," or "I'll listen to your complaints" at the right moment—meaningless things.

Conversely, it might be better to use a seemingly respectable pretext like "I'm doing this for your own good, so I have to say some harsh things" to get the truth out of you. But I think that's basically all lies. Only the person giving advice will feel good, while the listener won't get much help, and generally will feel worse.

It's all my fault for keeping thinking about this kind of thing. It seems that without realizing it, I bit my lower lip hard, leaving a faint mark.

Because I knew I absolutely couldn't make that expression, I hurriedly opened my mouth, but I still couldn't think of any suitable words, and only a moist breath escaped from my mouth.

I had to say something and laugh it off. I ruffled my hair in a bun, my gaze wandering to various places, including my feet, the end of the corridor, and the view outside the window.

But I still can't think of anything suitable to say, and I really hate myself.

I was clearly prepared, I was clearly determined, and there should have been no problem.

Inhale, exhale—that's all I could do, except blink more frequently. Perhaps it was because the sunlight had been particularly dazzling from the start. When I came to my senses, I realized I was pressing the base of my thumb firmly against the corner of my eye. The heat transferring from my eye to my hand was clearly my own body temperature, but it felt incredibly hot.

Okay, no problem. It's not dazzling anymore. As long as I let go of this hand and wipe it clean properly, I should be able to look at her straight ahead and smile again.

Then, I cleared my vision of the wetness and gave a smile that seemed to say, "I'm fine."

But the expression on her face was just like mine had been.

The hand, which had been stretched forward halfway, seemingly having struggled with the question of "Should I reach out or not?", fell limply and quickly to its side.

"I'm sorry. It's not that I wanted to hide it from you. It's just that nothing special really happened, so... I guess I can't explain it..."

Although her voice was very soft, she still managed to squeeze out one sentence after another.

She showed no sign of wanting to look away from me. But her gaze wasn't as handsome, stern, and sharp as usual. Even as she considered, worried, and felt uneasy about whether we were a good match, she remained fixed on me.

"...Besides, I don't think this is something I should tell others."

She hugged her arms tightly and looked away for a moment.

Seeing her like this, I suddenly realized something.

Rather than calling it "others," it's more accurate to say it's "me."

Because I was careful not to mention that matter when I spoke to her, I was never sure how to bring it up.

Perhaps, the stronger my resolve was to "not bring up that matter," the greater the distance between us.

However, after I took half a step, she also took half a step.

It wouldn't have mattered if she had just brushed off those probing questions, but even though she was feeling uneasy, she still answered me flawlessly.

Even if she only reaches halfway, even if she can't reach the target at all, even if she gets caught up in the consequences, she still wants to reach out her hand.

"...But I want to hear it."

Therefore, it won't do to not hold that hand firmly.

Thinking of this, I held her hand tightly.

It feels like it's been a very, very long time since we last shook hands.

Up until now, whenever our hands are pressed together, she looks somewhat embarrassed and tries to pull away, but in the end, she lets me hold hers as if giving up.

Even now, although she seemed somewhat surprised, her hand stiffened slightly, and she looked embarrassed as she tried to pull her hand away, she still timidly grasped my hand in return.

"...I know this is just my own arbitrary idea."

"Um"

I breathed a slight sigh of relief and earnestly affirmed her words, as if she were giving an opening speech.

Seeing my gaze, she deftly combed her hair with her free hand while continuing to speak, word by word, in a slightly childlike tone, as if confirming something.

"Rather than saying nothing happened... it's more accurate to say it wasn't a big deal. Or rather, how should I put it...?"

"Uh-huh?"

What are they talking about? What's going on? Are they discussing philosophy? I couldn't help but tilt my head.

Although she occasionally uses some difficult words, sometimes even when she uses simple words, I still can't understand her at all, which is really a headache.

However, if I asked her a question in return, she would search for a simple and easy-to-understand answer for me. So I stared into her eyes without moving, waiting for her to speak next.

So she smoothed her bangs while her gaze wandered, seemingly struggling to find the right words.

"It would be really embarrassing to say it out loud, and I feel ashamed just thinking about it... um, it's really shameful..."

She had been listing words at a very fast pace until halfway through, but suddenly stopped and then began to speak softly and slowly, intermittently.

Then, at the very end, she added her final words in a barely audible voice.

"...So I don't want to say."

She pouted in dissatisfaction, speaking as if in a sullen mood. Even though her ears had turned bright red, she was still seriously troubled, and her eyes even welled up with tears.

She was telling me everything, her intense shame, sadness, embarrassment, worry, affection, and grief.

I couldn't help but chuckle softly, tears almost welling up in my eyes.

What an incredibly adorable yet incredibly troublesome person! Both excessively fragile and frighteningly strong. Upright yet cunning. I love all of those annoying aspects too.

She said nothing happened, and that statement was probably true.

Because nothing has happened, she gets stuck in a rut.

I think no one else but me would understand this kind of thing.

But it is precisely because the object of my attention is her that I want to find out.

I patted her hand twice, a light tap. Since I couldn't think of anything else to say, I used this method to let her know I understood. As if in response, she gripped my hand tightly in return.

The tighter she held my hand, the more I understood.

No matter how firmly we held hands, no matter how long we stayed in the same place, no matter how many words we exchanged, our relationship can never go back to the way it was.

Actually, I thought I could have done better.

Because I think I'm smarter than him and her, because I don't struggle with socializing, because I'm used to observing and conforming to the atmosphere.

I used to be confident that I could maintain a proper distance.

So, to avoid making the atmosphere too serious, I never brought up anything too heavy, controlling myself from crossing that line, keeping my unspeakable words bottled up inside, and putting on an "it's nothing" or "don't worry about it" expression. I talked freely about happy topics, nodded solemnly when discussing dark or sad topics, and shared in everyone's anger about topics that made people angry. In this way, I once thought I would make friends.

But I don't like that anymore.

We're more than just friends anymore.

The word "friend" is simply not enough; it's a word that everyone uses naturally and in various contexts.

That was a heavier, more troublesome, more heart-wrenching, and more exhausting relationship.

It's either a lifelong relationship or never seeing each other again—that's a relationship that's that demanding.

This might just be a misjudgment in the moment, or perhaps a vague sense of confusion, a momentary impulse of youth, or even an illusion born of emotional excitement. Maybe I'll forget it all in ten years.

However, right now, at this very moment, that's exactly what I'm thinking.

I am certain that the time I spend with her will be one of the most important periods of my life.

Therefore, in order to turn my conviction into reality, I must face it properly, whether it's burrs, barbs, or thorns that haven't been pulled out.

Because after he properly ended his relationship with her and me, his relationship with her and me can finally begin.

"...I'm telling you, Xiaoxue."

Then, I called her name.

Although she didn't accept it at first, and she would correct me every time I called her that, it was the name I kept calling her that, the name that only I could call her.

Xiaoxue suddenly looked up, gently wiping the corner of her eye with her fingertip, then nodded in response. Her watery eyes stared intently at me, waiting for me to continue.

I'm sorry. I know I'm about to say some really despicable things.

But I still have to say it, because I have to.

I don't care if you hate me. Even if you dislike me, it doesn't matter. The more you hate me, the more I like you, so it's completely okay.

Anyway, I'm neither an angel nor a goddess.

So I will do it cunningly, adorably, in my own style, and greedily.

"...Could I...speak with Xiaoqi?"

It really does take some courage to say it outright. After a short pause of just one breath, I spoke up, and Xiaoxue tilted her head in confusion.

"I don't think it's a problem... There's no need to specifically ask for my permission, is there?"

As Xiaoxue spoke, she put her finger to her lips, as if considering the meaning behind my words.

It must be because I was wearing a very serious expression. I could feel my cheeks stiffening.

To keep my voice from trembling, I closed my eyes and took another deep breath.

I looked up and my eyes met Xiaoxue's.

Although she looked beautiful from the side, with her head down, or from behind, she was most captivating from the front. As I marveled at her beauty, Xiaoxue and I stood facing each other.

"I have something very important to talk about. It's something I've never been able to properly say."

The moment the words left her mouth, Xiaoxue seemed to hesitate and be confused, letting out a breath as her large eyes wavered uneasily. Her soft lips remained slightly parted, her long eyelashes trembled slightly, and she looked as if she was about to cry.

However, it only lasted for a moment.

Xiaoxue slowly closed her eyes, nodded heavily, and then that incredibly cute and gentle smile that I love so much appeared on her face.

"Is it really necessary to ask for my permission?"

She flashed a competitive smile, then quickly tossed her beautiful, long, black hair, which always carried a delicate fragrance. It reminded me of the first time I met her, which made me happy.

Our relationship will likely begin today.

My previously stiff face has completely relaxed, and jokes and laughter have poured out.

"Because if we don't discuss it beforehand, Xiaoxue will just worry and become depressed all by herself again."

Although I was smiling and speaking in a joking tone, I was actually quite serious about the matter. Upon hearing my words, Xiaoxue pouted slightly, her brows furrowing in anger.

"I was just kidding, sorry." I apologized and tried to hug Xiaoxue, but she just let out a long sigh.