Chapter Four: 予兆
A childhood vow carved deep in gentle sand,
Defies the shadows creeping through the night;
Yet destiny extends a gilded hand,
And threads of dream step softly into light.
The afternoon sun filtered through the sprawling canopy of the old ginkyo tree standing at the edge of the school’s eastern courtyard. Sunlight ray danced across the grass, casting soft, shifting shadows over Miyuki and Yuri as they sat together on the wooden bench cradled beneath the tree.
The courtyard was largely deserted, save for the faint and also distant thuds of soccer balls from the the field that's about three hundreds meters from them. The gentle rustle of leaves stirred by a cool spring breeze.
Yuri sat with her arms resting over her knees, her short apple green hair swaying gently in the wind.
For a long time, she doesn't say a word. She simply listened while her green eyes fixed on the grass beneath her shoes, her head giving a slow nod every now and then as Miyuki laid bare everything that had transpired over the past few days.
Miyuki recounted the suffocating weight of her recurring nightmares. The public shaming she caused, the cold, distant stares of those she loved, the terrifying presence of Masato Ren, and the vivid, bloody ruin of Takumi’s life. She spoke of the overwhelming dread that lingered long after she woke up, the strange sense of detachment that crept into her daily routine, and the bizarre, uncanny feeling that her dreams were somehow bleeding into the real world.
When Miyuki’s voice finally faded into silence, leaving only the sound of the rustling leaves above, Yuri let out a long, heavy breath through her nose.
"I have to be frank with you, Miyuki-chan." Yuri began as her eyes staring on the leaves above her, her voice low and unusually subdued as she turned her head to look at her friend. "If anyone elsetold me all of this... I’d tell them to not read too much manhwas before bed."
" I mean..." Yuri scratches her neck. " Precognitive dream isn't an impossible thing to have, it's just one in millions chance to happen so it's hard to disgest this kind of thing."
Miyuki lowered her head, her fingers tightly interlaced in her lap. "I know how ridiculous it sounds... that's why I didn't tell anybody about this, not even Takumi-kun."
Yuri shifted her posture, resting her back against the rough bark of the tree.
"And those... specific details in your dreams? The part where you supposedly betrayed Takumi-kun? Where you let people did such things to him like that?"
A sudden flush of deep, painful embarrassment rose up Miyuki's neck, warming her cheeks.
She looked down at her polished school shoes, her expression twisting into a sheepish, deeply ashamed grimace.
"That's... that's the part that terrifies me the most, Yuri-chan." Miyuki admitted softly, her voice barely audible over the wind.
"It feels so disgusting to even say it out loud. A betrayal on that degree... it's something that only exists in some sick, twisted fantasy. There is absolutely no way I could ever do something like that to
Takumi-kun. Not after everything he’s done for me over the last ten years. He’s... he’s my entire world, Yuri-chan."
"I know." Yuri said firmly, her tone leaving no room for doubt. "Anyone who knows you for five minutes knows how much you care about that idiot. That's why hearing you describe those dreams sounded so completely out-of-character for you."
Yuri paused, her green eyes narrowing slightly as she stared out toward the glass-and-steel facade of the main school building.
"But..." Yuri continued slowly, her voice taking on a analytical edge.
"The fact that you kept having those dreams about the exact same events long before you even met Masato in person that's what bothers me the most. Maybe it’s not something to be ignored after all.
Yuri shrugs. " This world can be a strange place, Miyuki-chan. When something in your environment or your subconscious feels wrong, your brain finds ways to scream at you. It's possible that something is trying to warn you."
Miyuki swallowed hard, the weight of Yuri’s words settling deep into her chest. " A warning, eh...?"
"Speaking of devil..." Yuri raised her hand, her index finger pointing toward a first-floor hallway window located on the southern wing of the school building, directly overlooking the courtyard.
"Look over there."
Miyuki followed the direction of Yuri’s finger, squinting slightly against the bright glare of the afternoon sun reflecting off the glass.
Behind the glass of the open corridor window stood two figures.
One was unmistakably Masato Ren. He was leaning casually against the window frame, his uniform blazer unbuttoned, his disheveled blonde hair catching the sunlight as he spoke with an easy and practiced arrogance. Standing right in front of him, leaning in closely as if entirely entranced by his presence, was a girl with a short chestnut-brown bob.
"See that girl talking to him?" Yuri asked quietly, her eyes fixed on the pair.
Miyuki nodded slowly. "Yeah..."
"That's the girlfriend I told you about earlier." Yuri said, her voice dropping into a somber, bitter tone. "Her name is Kyouichiro Yumiko."
Miyuki repeated the name under her breath. "Kyouichiro... Yumiko..."
"I know both of them, way on my old junior high school." Yuri explained, resting her hands back on her knees as she shared the backstory. "Back then, Yumiko was completely different. She was a polite, quiet and soft-spoken girl that followed every school rules perfectly. In other word; an ideal student. You know, her hair were originally black. She was once in a really sweet relationship with a guy named Arata exactly like you and Takumi-kun. They were practically inseparable. Everyone thought they were going to stay together forever."
Yuri let out a dark, scoffing sound from the back of her throat.
"It was all sweet and sunshine..." Yuri continued, her jaw tightening.
"Until Masato entered the picture. He targeted her, played his usual smooth, manipulative games, picked apart her small insecurities, and completely stole her away from Arata. Arata was devastated. His grades tanked, enough that his academy was lagged a year behind both of them."
Miyuki watched the chestnut-haired girl through the window. Even from their distance under the tree, the dramatic change in Yumiko's appearance was glaringly obvious.
Yumiko was wearing heavy, dark eye makeup that looked entirely out of place for a high school dress code, her lips painted a glossy shade of deep pink. Her hair which Yuri mentioned used to be black, dyed in brown. Her uniform collar was pulled wide open, and her skirt was hemmed far shorter than school regulations allowed.
"You can see it for yourself, right?" Yuri noted, pointing toward the window again.
"Look at how much Ren completely altered her. She threw away her entire old personality, her old friends, and her reputation just to fit into whatever twisted mold Ren wanted her to be in. She thinks she's special because she's with the 'cool guy,' but to him, she's just a trophy he won."
A cold shudder ran down Miyuki’s spine as she watched Yumiko laugh at something Ren said, her posture completely dependent on his attention. The realization of how close she herself had come to stepping into that exact same web sent a sickening chill through her veins.
Yuri reached into her messenger bag sitting beside her on the grass, pulled out a plastic-wrapped object, and slammed it gently into Miyuki’s lap.
Miyuki looked down. It was a freshly wrapped tuna-mayo onigiri.
"Eat." Yuri commanded gently, opening a matching onigiri for herself.
Miyuki managed a frail, grateful smile. "Thank you, Yuri-chan..."
She carefully unwrapped the plastic and took a small, quiet bite.
The salty flavor was comforting, helping to ground her frazzled nerves back into reality.
Yuri took a bite of her own onigiri, chewing thoughtfully before turning her sharp green gaze back to Miyuki.
"You know..." Yuri said casually, taking another bite, "if you hadn't had those weird dreams... if you hadn't been primed by those lingering warnings in your head... what do you think would have happened when that Tachibana girl handed you that number?"
Miyuki paused mid-chew, her hand freezing in front of her mouth.
" That's right" Yuri pressed softly, her voice free of judgment, purely analytical.
"You were feeling lonely. Takumi-kun was busy with his writing. You were feeling a little insecure, wondering if your relationship was falling into a dull routine. Then your club president hands you a contact for a 'guy who she claimed understands relationships. Wouldn't you have been at least a little curious? Wouldn't his smooth words in that club room today have sounded... comforting?"
Miyuki sat in absolute silence, the breeze rustling the leaves above her head.
She remembered the strange, seductive pull of Ren’s voice in the Literature Club room earlier that afternoon, the way he had stepped closer, offering easy validation to a girl he assumed was feeling neglected. If her heart hadn't been frozen in terror from the vivid memory of Takumi’s bleeding face and Aoi’s cold rejection, would she have stayed in that chair a little longer? Would she have listened to his 'advice'?
A heavy, reluctant truth settled in her throat.
Miyuki slowly, solemnly nodded her head.
"Exactly." Yuri said, finishing the last bite of her onigiri and wiping her fingers with a napkin. "Which means those nightmares, as terrible as they were, saved you from making a monumental mistake."
Yuri leaned back against the tree, her eyes narrowing as a new thought seemed to cross her mind. She turned her head toward Miyuki, her green eyes sparking with genuine curiosity.
"Now... there's one more thing I've been wondering about," Yuri said, her tone shifting.
"In those dreams of yours... you mentioned a certain girl, didn't you? The girl standing next to Takumi at his mom's cafe? The one who confronted you on the rooftop?"
Miyuki looked up, her hand instinctively tightening around her half-eaten onigiri. "Yes..."
"Describe her to me again," Yuri requested.
Miyuki took a quiet breath, searching her memory for the vivid imagery from her nightmare.
"She had... striking long golden hair that caught the light almost like spun silk. Her eyes were this intense, piercing shade of icy blue. She was breathtakingly beautiful... like an angel, but with an aura that felt completely untouchable, cold, and flawless."
The moment the words "golden hair" left Miyuki’s lips, Yuri’s posture instantly straightened. A subtle look of recognition flashed across her face.
"Katsuragi Rin. You're definitely described Katsuragi Rin." Yuri uttered flatly.
Miyuki blinked in surprise, her eyes widening. "You... you know who she is?"
"Of course I am." Yuri scoffed, tossing her crumpled plastic wrapper into her bag. "Practically the entire school knows who she is, Miyuki-chan! How have you been so oblivious?"
"I... I've been really focused on midterms and Takumi's draft lately," Miyuki admitted sheepishly.
Yuri let out a soft sigh, shaking her head in disbelief. "Katsuragi Rin transferred to our school just about a month ago. She's a first-year student in Class 1-A. And in just four short weeks, she has become an absolute legend around here."
" What do you mean?" Miyuki's eyes went wide slightly.
" I don't even extrageratted here." Yuri said, her voice carrying a rare tone of genuine impression.
"People call her the 'Golden Empress' behind her back. She’s not just exceptionally beautiful, though basically every guy in our school is fantasizing to have her. She’s a complete monster when it comes to performance."
Yuri began counting off on her fingers, her expression deadly serious.
"Academic? She placed rank one exams last month. Sport? She joined the track and field club on her third day, broke the school's all-time record for the 100-meter dash on her first trial, and was selected to represent our school in the regional tournament two weeks ago despite being a new first-year."
Miyuki sat stunned, listening to the staggering list of achievements.
"She is the walking definition of a prodigy." Yuri emphasized, looking directly into Miyuki’s eyes with absolute seriousness. "Flawless grades, unmatched athletic talent, and a face that looks like a literal piece of Michelangelo's painting. She’s polite, but she keeps everyone at a strict, cold distance. She's even earned a reputation to coldly rejected every guy that tried to flirt on her. I heard on last week alone, she's rejected at least fifteen guys."
Yuri leaned in closer to Miyuki, her voice dropping into a solemn, protective whisper.
"Which is why, Miyuki... hearing that a girl like *that* showed up in your dream standing right beside Takumi-kun... should be the ultimate wake-up call for you."
Miyuki’s breath caught in her throat.
"Takumi-kun is a good guy." Yuri continued softly. Her expression softening with genuine warmth for her friends.
"He's kind, he's loyal, he's talented in his own right. Basically an ideal boyfriend."
She paused for a moment. "But if a girl like Katsuragi Rin ever take a genuine interest in him... or if you continue to take his presence for granted... you could lose him to someone you couldn't even dream to compete with."
Yuri rested her hand gently on Miyuki’s shoulder, giving it a firm, supportive squeeze.
"You need to treasure that boy, Miyuki-chan" Yuri said, her green eyes shining with fierce sincerity.
"Stop letting your insecurities pull you toward trash like Masato Ren, and start holding onto the person who actually loves you with everything he has."
Miyuki looked into Yuri’s eyes, the warmth of her friend’s hand seeped into her shoulder, grounding the last fragments of her anxiety. The cold terror of the nightmares seemed to shrink, replaced by a sudden, fierce clarity in her heart.
She looked back up toward the school building, past the window where Ren and Yumiko stood, out into the vast, bright blue sky above.
"I will." Miyuki murmured, her voice steady and clear for the first time in days.
" I won't let... any of those dreamss come true."
---
The rustling ginkyo leaves under the afternoon breeze slowly dissolved, replaced by the faint, distant memories of a cold autumn park from nearly ten years ago.
Miyuki sat silently under the shadow of the school tree, her eyes fixed blankly on the grass beneath her shoes, letting her mind drift back to the days of elementary school.
It had been a crisp, overcast afternoon shortly after her seventh birthday. The playground sandpit was damp from a morning drizzle, and the rusted iron chains of the swing set creaked softly in the wind. She remembered sitting on a wooden bench just like this one, hugging her small knees against her chest, staring down at her muddy red rain boots.
Beside her, a seven-years-old Takumi had been bouncing a scuffed rubber ball against the concrete edge of the sandbox. His hair was messy, his cheeks flushed pink from running, and a fresh band-aid was plastered over his right knee, a badge of honor from his latest fall on the gravel.
"Hey, Miyuki." Young Takumi had called, catching the ball between his small hands and trotting over to her with an innocent, energetic grin. "Why are you just sitting there? Let's go play together!"
Miyuki hadn't looked up. She had simply squeezed her knees tighter, her voice coming out as a tiny, broken whisper.
"Takumi... I don't want to go to school tomorrow."
Young Takumi blinked, his wide brown eyes blinking in genuine puzzle. He tilted his head, letting the rubber ball drop into his lap. "Huh? Why not?"
Miyuki choked back a small hiccup. The weight pressing on her small shoulders back then had felt heavy enough to crush her.
It had been only three months since her father's sudden illness which was a sudden cardiac arrest that took him away in a single night. In the aftermath, her mother, Koharu, had been thrust into a frantic survival mode. Koharu worked double shifts and came home late every night with pale, exhausted skin and bruised eyes, hiding in the kitchen to cry silently so Miyuki wouldn't hear.
Every time Miyuki looked at her mother’s worn-out hands, a dark, suffocating guilt tore at her chest.
*If I weren't here, Mom wouldn't have to work so hard. It''s my fault that she's crying*
"My mom... she works especially harder than ever." Young Miyuki murmured, her voice trembling as tears began to spill over her eyelashes.
She swallowed hard, remembering the cruel, unfiltered words of her elementary school classmates. Children at seven could be vicious without even understanding the weight of their words.
"They make fun of me." Miyuki sobbed, burying her face in her small hands. "They say mean things because I don't have a dad anymore..."
Young Takumi stared at her in silence for several long seconds. The cheerful, playful expression on his face slowly disappeared, replaced by a quiet, fierce determination that looked strangely mature on his round, childish face.
He set his ball aside, stood up from the bench, and walked directly in front of her. Reaching out, he firmly pulled her trembling hands away from her face, gripping her fingers with his warm, dirt-smudged hands.
"Then I'll walk with you." Young Takumi declared loudly, his voice ringing clearly across the empty playground. "Every single morning. I'll come to your front gate before the sun is even up high, and we'll walk together. All the way to the classroom door!"
Miyuki gasped softly, staring at him through her tear-blurred vision. "N-No! You can't, Takumi!" she protested, shaking her head frantically. "If you walk with me, they'll start making fun of you too! They'll call you names and say you're weird for playing with me!"
"Let them!" Takumi yelled stubbornly, stomping his small foot onto the damp sand. He puffed out his chest, looking straight into her eyes with an absolute determination. "I don't care what those dummies say! If anyone tries to say mean things to you, I'll yell at them until they stop! As long as I'm walking next to you, you don't have to be scared of anything!"
Miyuki stared at him, her heart beating rapidly against her ribs.
And Takumi had meant every word.
The very next morning, at seven o'clock sharp, Miyuki had opened her front door to find young Takumi standing outside her gate in his yellow school cap, adjusting his heavy red backpack, waiting for her with a bright, proud smile on his face. And from that day onward—through rain, snow, elementary school, middle school, and high school. He had never once failed to stand at that gate.
---
"Miyuki-chan?"
A warm, energetic voice shattered the peaceful silence of her memories, pulling Miyuki sharply back to the present.
Miyuki blinked.
She was no longer sitting on the wooden bench in the school courtyard. The afternoon had given way to a cozy, golden twilight, and she found herself sitting at the table in the Hanamichi Cafe. The comforting aroma of simmered dashi, roasted sesame, and fresh tea floated through the air. It was late Saturday evening. The Saitama field trip for the second-year students had officially concluded, and she had walked over his mom's cafe after school to wait for his return.
Standing at the kitchen counter, wiping down a porcelain dish with a tea towel, was Tendou Aoi. Her long orange braid rested over her shoulder, her bright eyes looking at Miyuki with an amused, affectionate curve.
"My goodness, Miyuki-chan." Aoi chuckled softly, setting the dish down and leaning her elbows against the counter. "You've been staring at that empty teacup for five whole minutes! You have such a gloomy, spaced-out look on your face."
Miyuki straightened her posture instantly, a light pink flush dusting her cheeks. "Ah! I-I'm sorry, Aoi-san! I was just... thinking about something."
Aoi gasped dramatically, placing a hand over her heart as a wicked, playful smirk spread across her youthful face.
" Could it be?" Aoi teased, her eyes sparkling with maternal mischief.
"Don't tell me... are you already suffering from severe Takumi-withdrawal? He was only gone for a single day on that Saitama trip! Is my poor little future daughter-in-law feeling so lonely without her sweetheart that she's drifting off into deep melancholy?"
"A-Aoi-san! It's not like that!" Miyuki stammered, her cheeks burning hot as she held up her hands in frantic denial. "I was just—"
"My, my, whatever shall we do?" Aoi interrupted smoothly, pretending to sigh with deep concern as she turned toward the the kitchen entrance. "I suppose I'll just have to call for him right now before my poor Miyuki-chan completely wilts away from heartache!"
"Wait, Aoi-san, please don't—!"
"Takumi~!" Aoi called out loudly toward the hallway, her voice carrying easily through the entire cafe, wwhich lucky for her, has absent for any customers. "Look who dropped by to see you! Hurry up!"
Miyuki buried her red face in her hands, letting out a helpless, quiet groan.
Footsteps echoed against the polished wooden floorboards. A moment later, the sliding door opened, and Takumi stepped into the dining area.
He had already changed out of his formal school uniform into a casual, comfortable grey long-sleeved shirt and trousers. Tied neatly around his waist was a light cream-colored cotton apron, and he was holding a small tray with two fresh mugs of hot barley tea.
The moment Takumi’s eyes landed on Miyuki sitting at the dining table, every trace of exhaustion from his entire day travel instantly melted away. A bright, genuine, utterly radiant smile lit up his face.
"Miyuki-chan!" Takumi said softly, his voice rich with authentic warmth. "You came over! I was just about to text you that we got back from Saitama half an hour ago."
"I... I came to see if you made it back safely." Miyuki murmured, lowering her hands from her face, her chest swelling with a sudden, overwhelming relief as she looked at him.
Takumi set the tea tray down on the table, pulling out the chair directly opposite her and taking a seat.
"How was your day?" Takumi asked gently, setting one of the hot mugs near her hands. "Did you manage to get enough rest while I was away?"
"It was... quiet indeed." Miyuki answered softly, offering him a tender smile. "Yuri-chan kept me company."
"That's good to hear." Takumi smiled.
Then, his eyes sparked with a sudden, excited memory. "Oh! Right! I got something for you while our class was visiting the artisan street in Saitama."
He reached into his apron pocket and pulled out a small, square gift box wrapped in soft, traditional patterned paper tied with a gold string. He placed it carefully on the table, sliding it across the wood toward her.
Miyuki looked down at the delicate package, her eyebrows lifting in pleasant surprise. "A gift... for me?"
"Go on, open it." Takumi urged, leaning forward with his elbows on the table, watching her with eager anticipation like a young boy waiting for praise.
Miyuki carefully untied the gold string and folded back the paper wrapping. Inside the box, resting on a bed of dark velvet, was a exquisitely crafted wristband. It was made of tightly braided silk cords in a subtle shade of midnight blue and silver, and suspended from the center loop was a tiny, delicate brass bell shaped like a cherry blossom petal.
Miyuki picked it up gently with her fingertips. As she moved her hand, the tiny bell let out a faint, melodic *chime*—a sound so pure, clear, and soothing that it seemed to brush away every lingering shadow in the room.
"It's a local traditional craft from the shrine district over there." Takumi explained, scratching his cheek a little shyly as he watched her reaction. "The craftsman said the chime bell is meant to ward off bad fortune and protect the wearer. The moment I saw the silver cord, I thought... it really suits you. Do you like it?"
Miyuki held the delicate wristband close to her chest. The small bell chimed softly against her fingers.
She looked across the table at Takumi, at his soft brown hair, his bright, earnest eyes, and the modest, loving expression on his face. He had gone on an exhausting history trip, yet amid all the crowded tours and schedules, his very first thought had been to find something beautiful to bring back for her.
The memory of her childhood self crying in the damp sandpit flashed in her mind, alongside Yuri’s fierce words under the tree:
*“Stop letting your insecurities pull you toward trash, and start holding onto the person who actually loves you with everything he has.”*
A profound wave of love and gratitude crested in Miyuki’s heart, washing away her hesitation.
Miyuki glanced subtly around the room.
Aoi had turned her back to the dining area, standing by the stove to check on a simmering pot of miso soup, humming a light tune to herself.
Seeing that no one is nearby them, Miyuki stood up from her chair, leaned across the narrow wooden table, and gently cupped Takumi’s right cheek with her soft hand.
Takumi blinked in surprise. "Miyuki-chan?"
Before he could process what was happening, Miyuki leaned in close and pressed her soft lips against his left cheek.
The kiss was gentle, lingering for two long, breathtaking seconds. warm, tender, and filled with an unspoken vow.
When she pulled back, Takumi sat frozen in his chair, his eyes wide as saucers, his face turning an instant, brilliant, crimson red that extended all the way to the tips of his ears. His hand slowly rose to touch his cheek where her lips had been, his brain completely short-circuiting.
"I love it, Takumi-kun" Miyuki whispered softly, a radiant, beautiful smile gracing her lips, her eyes twinkling with affection. "Thank you so much."
"KYAAAAAAA!"
A high-pitched, ecstatic squeal echoed through the cafe, that even some of the passengers turns their eyes towards the cafe direction.
Aoi had spun around from the stove, holding her wooden ladle like a microphone, her face flushed with absolute, unadulterated maternal excitement. Her eyes were practically shining like stars as she pointed at the blushing teenagers.
"Oh my goodness! Oh my goodness!" Aoi fangirled wildly, clapping her hands together in pure joy.
"Did you see that?! My sweet little Miyuki-chan took the initiative! A cheek kiss right in front of me! My heart cannot handle this level of romance! I need to keep this into family album!"
"M-Mom!" Takumi squeaked, covering his bright red face with both hands, mortified beyond belief. "You're being way too loud!"
"Why shouldn't I?!" Aoi laughed delightfully, walking over and wrapping her arms around Miyuki’s shoulders from behind, hugging her tightly. "Look how cute you two are! Ah, I am truly the luckiest mother in the world!"
Miyuki giggled softly, feeling the cozy, unshakeable warmth of the Tendou family enveloping her. For the first time in weeks, the dark shadows of her nightmares seemed completely powerless.
*ting*
The chime of the door bell echoed through the cafe.
Aoi paused, letting go of Miyuki with a curious blink. "Oh? A customer?"
"I'll get it, Mom." Takumi said, quickly standing up from his chair, grateful for the sudden excuse to hide his red face.
Aoi turned back to the kitchen counter to pour more tea, while Miyuki sat back down, carefully slipping the braided silver wristband onto her left wrist. The tiny bell let out a soft *clink* as she adjusted the knot, fitting perfectly against her skin.
Footsteps sounded in the area as Takumi returned, leading the guest into the table where Miyuki sit.
"She's just through here," Takumi’s voice carried from the corridor. "My mom and Miyuki are in the dining area.
"
"Thank you for letting me drop by so suddenly, Tendou-senpai," A smooth, refined female voice replied. "I hope I am not interrupting something."
Miyuki turned her head casually toward the archway, expecting to see a random customer or one of Aoi’s regular.
The moment the visitor stepped into her gaze, the breath was instantly crushed out of Miyuki’s lungs.
Her body went entirely rigid. Her heart stopped beating for a terrifying, frozen second.
Framed in the cafe interior tood a girl of unmatched, ethereal beauty. She wore a neat, tailored white blouse and dark blue pleated skirt. Cascading down past her shoulders was a glorious, breathtaking mane of long, golden hair that caught the amber light like spun silk. Her features were perfectly sculpted, and her piercing, icy blue eyes possessed a sharp, untouchable clarity that radiated an aura of quiet authority.
It was the girl from her dream.
The Golden Empress of Class 1-A.
Miyuki’s knuckles turned white as she gripped the edge of the table. An unusual, visceral shock painted across her face, her pupils trembling.
"Rin...?" Miyuki unconsciously muttered under her breath, the name escaping her lips before she could stop herself.
Takumi, who was walking just behind the golden-haired girl, caught the quiet whisper. He blinked in surprise, looking between Miyuki and the guest.
"Hmm?" Takumi asked, tilting his head in puzzle. "Miyuki-chan... do you already know Katsuragi-san?"
Miyuki snapped out of her trance, a sudden jolt of adrenaline surging through her veins. She quickly pulled her posture straight, forcing her shock down beneath a mask of composure, shaking her head frantically.
"N-No!" Miyuki denied quickly, her voice slightly strained. "No, I... I don't know her personally. I've just... seen her around the school grounds before. She's very famous at the school."
The golden-haired girl, Katsuragi Rin turned her sharp blue eyes toward Miyuki. For a brief second, an unreadable, subtle flicker of interest flashed deep within her cool gaze, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.
Rin offered Miyuki a polite, perfectly executed bow. "Good evening. You must be Asahina-san from Class 2-B. I am Katsuragi Rin from Class 1-A."
"G-Good evening..." Miyuki replied, her voice cautious.
Rin turned her attention back to Takumi. A soft, warm smile thatsurprisingly gentle compared to her cold reputation drew across her flawless lips as she looked directly at the brown-haired boy.
"I apologize for bothering you, senpai." Rin spoke softly, her voice smooth and clear like fresh spring water.
She reached into her sleek leather school bag and pulled out a neatly folded, thick navy blue knitted sweater. The fabric was clean, immaculate, and smelled faint of cedar wood unmistakably Takumi's personal autumn sweater.
Rin held the sweater out toward Takumi with both hands, offering him another respectful bow.
"I came to return this to you." Rin said, her blue eyes shining with genuine, profound gratitude as she looked up at him. "Thank you so much for lending me your sweater during our field trip earlier, Tendou-senpai. If you hadn't given it to me when the rain started at the castle ruins, I surely would have caught a terrible cold."
The words hung in the warm air of the dining room like a sudden, unexpected thunderclap.
Miyuki sat utterly frozen in her chair, the tiny brass bell on her wrist letting out a single, shivering *chime* in the quiet area. Her eyes fixed onto the navy blue sweater resting in Rin’s hands, a cold, sharp realization sinking deep into her chest.
