The girl's clear black-and-white eyes seemed to hide a gentle fawn, now gazing up at him with a shy, almost timid sparkle.
Saori's words were like a transparent but unbreakable fishing line—threading through his ears and hooking straight into Shiratori Seiya's chest, tightening around his heart. His whole body trembled. It ached. It swelled.
And then, a voice echoed in his head:
"Just marry her already. Isn't one Saori enough?"
But almost immediately, a chorus of mocking inner voices drowned out that first thought:
"If you give up this easily, then why did you abandon her in the first place? Throwing away your original conviction over something this small—can you really stay with her till the end?"
"What about Shione? What about Mio? What about your promises to them?"
"What about your original dream? You've come this far. You're just going to quit halfway?"
"If Hōjō Shione or Takahashi Mio did this, would you also give up on Saori?"
"Do you think their feelings for you are any less than Saori's?"
"Do you truly love her? Or is this just a moment's impulse?"
"Hypocrite…"
Shiratori Seiya's head buzzed like a bad reception on a cheap radio. He snapped back to reality.
Feeling the warmth of her palm against his cheek, he lowered his gaze and gently held her slender hand.
Compared to Shione and Mio, Saori's hands weren't delicate at all.
On the contrary—years of kendo practice had left them quite rough to the touch. Compared to that gentle warmth that could melt a heart, her hands were more like fish scales: patchy, dry, hard, and just a little slippery.
Shiratori Seiya stared at her calloused palm, his thumb slowly sliding across it, stroking it again and again.
Saori froze. She looked down blankly at what he was doing.
She didn't feel much—at most a faint tickle.
But for some reason, it felt like a thousand ants were crawling all over her heart. Sour and itchy, like something was leaking out of her chest…
Her face flushed bright red.
Her breathing—which normally wouldn't even quicken after running three kilometers—turned ragged and uneven. Beneath the table, her long legs pressed together unconsciously, rubbing softly. Her whole body seemed to go limp, as if she'd been hit with some kind of bone-melting poison…
"Do you think I'm useless, Saori?"
Hearing that, Hasegawa Saori's heart—which had nearly dissolved into water—immediately reformed back into its original shape. She straightened her spine instinctively and let out a surprised:
"Eh?"
Shiratori Seiya raised his head, met her gaze, and tapped the piggy bank with his bent left index finger. His tone was flat.
"I haven't graduated yet, and I'm not exactly rich. But I can still support Saori."
Seeing her stunned expression, Seiya felt a little mischievous urge and deliberately put on a deadpan face.
"Is it because you don't like my yakisoba or my fried rice? Or do you think they're too cheap?"
Hearing that, Hasegawa Saori's pupils shrank. Her eyes went wide with shock.
"I—I… Saori didn't…"
Her lips curved downward. She felt like she'd said something wrong and didn't dare look at Seiya's face anymore. Her voice turned pitiful.
"Saori can even eat plain rice balls… Seiya's cooking is the most delicious…"
"Being able to eat Seiya's food every day is the happiest thing for Saori…"
"Saori just… Saori…"
Her voice gradually choked up. Crystal tears welled in her eyes, and her lips turned a deep red.
"Saori just feels so bad for Seiya. Saori's an idiot—useless… The house is rented by Seiya, I come to Seiya's home every day to freeload meals, and even the only sword art I know was given to me by Seiya… But Saori can't help Seiya with anything. I always feel like I owe Seiya so much…"
"In Saori's heart, Seiya is the most amazing person in the whole world. You can do kendo, cook, write songs, write scripts, and earn so much money…"
"Saori has nothing. This is all Saori has. Saori doesn't deserve…"
Shiratori Seiya's eyelid twitched. He quickly raised a hand to stop her and smiled.
"So, Saori doesn't dislike me?"
"Saori would never dare…"
"'Would never dare'?"
Hasegawa Saori unconsciously clenched her hand. She nearly stood up, rushing to say:
"No! Saori wouldn't! Meeting Seiya is Saori's greatest blessing!"
Hiss!
Shiratori Seiya's finger bones ached from her grip. He felt like if she squeezed any harder, his bones would snap. His eyes widened.
"Let—let go!"
Hearing that, Hasegawa Saori jolted. She looked down and realized Shiratori Seiya's hand was still trapped in hers. She quickly let go.
Shiratori Seiya stared at his reddened fingers and didn't quite know what to say for a moment.
…Is teasing an idiot really this risky?
"I'm sorry…"
Realizing her strength, Saori—like a child who'd done something wrong—apologized repeatedly, staring at the boy's slightly trembling index finger.
Tears dripped onto the table with soft pat, pat sounds.
Seeing her cry again, Shiratori Seiya pulled out two tissues and handed them over. He was just about to say "it's nothing" when his palm was cupped by Saori again.
Before he could react to what she was planning, he heard a creak as the girl lifted her bottom off the stool and brought her cheek closer to his palm…
Under the white light, her approaching face was as clear as a white porcelain vase. Her rosy lips seemed dusted with starlight, sparkling softly.
Her two thin red lips parted slightly. Gently, she clamped his finger between them. Then came a soft, wet sensation…
Her beautiful hair fell on both sides of her flushed face. Her cheeks sank slightly into two small hollows.
She raised those clear black-and-white eyes—still glistening with tears—as if observing his reaction.
Along with a hot, pulling suction, Shiratori Seiya felt a jolt of electricity shoot up from his fingertip, racing through his blood straight to his forehead. He couldn't help but shiver.
He snapped out of it. With a clear pop, he quickly pulled his finger out.
He stared blankly at his glistening index finger. A few seconds later, he silently picked up his chopsticks.
"Eat."
"Doesn't Seiya hurt anymore?"
"Eat."
"Oh."
"…"
He'd almost gotten himself into serious trouble over a meal.
If he let Saori keep this up, not only would the Mods come knocking to delete his account for explicit content, but if they actually got intimate… Mio would find out sooner or later.And given her jealous streak? Who knew what kind of chaos that would unleash.
He silently recited "the National Anthem" thirty times in his head, then forced his attention onto the professional book next to him to calm his little brother down.
Maybe because Shiratori Seiya had mentioned "disliking yakisoba and fried rice," Hasegawa Saori ate her meal exceptionally cleanly this time. Eventually, she even leaned her face into the bowl and meticulously licked it clean with her tongue.
Looking at the gleaming, licked-spotless rice bowl, Shiratori Seiya—while wiping the sauce off Saori's face with a tissue—couldn't help but laugh.
"Now that's cleaner than washing."