Chapter 224: At This Point, Let's Just Eat

As the clock on the wall turned, the twilight spread soundlessly from all directions like a blue-grey mist, gradually swallowing the contours of the day.

Below, a street lamp lit up from the direction of the school gate. Then, a second, a third... gradually illuminating the entire campus. On the distant basketball court, two makeshift teams were locked in fierce, back-and-forth competition...

Popping the last potato chip into his mouth, Fuyuji Mikage turned back and walked into the room, casually switching on the lights.

"Two young ladies—shall we continue?"

"Shut up."

"Don't talk to me right now."

Two distinctly different voices rang out in response within the room, followed immediately by the sound of sharp intakes of breath from each of their mouths.

The two young women—among the most beautiful in the entire grade—had now completely lost all trace of their usual elegance. Without the slightest regard for appearances, both lay sprawled on the floor.

About half an hour ago, they had still been lying on the ground, choking each other by the neck, then trying to verbally argue each other to death.

Horikita Suzune spoke with reason and evidence, carrying clear logic, and occasionally even a touch of acerbic wit, often choking Kushida Kikyo until her chest swelled a full size in sheer fury.

Kushida, meanwhile, alternated between open mockery and veiled sarcasm, sharp and caustic, her pace of speech abnormally fast—often before Horikita-girl could even finish one sentence, the next was already spraying forth.

The two of them could be described as perfectly, evenly matched.

As for now...

Fuyuji glanced at the two of them, still lying on the floor, unwilling to so much as lift a finger. He turned and walked to the corner of the room, pulling out the medical kit.

Regardless of what emotions the two of them were harboring at this moment, they probably wouldn't continue fighting.

Because it really was exhausting—both physically and mentally. Like children after a good, long cry—after a long-overdue emotional release, they'd grow very sleepy, wanting nothing more than to sleep soundly...

With a sharp click, he unlatched the medical kit and pulled out the iodine cotton swabs and alcohol. The transparent bottle of alcohol refracted an amber glow in the twilight.

"I'll do it myself."

"No need for your help."

Two more simultaneous refusals. But Fuyuji paid them no mind. Letting out a soft laugh, a wicked grin spread across his face.

"In your current state—there's nothing you could do to stop me even if you wanted to."

Lying on opposite sides, both girls flushed red and turned their heads away in unison.

"Filthy."

"Disgusting."

"Let's treat the wounds first." Fuyuji helped both of them up, one with each hand. "Otherwise, when you go back to school in a couple of days, the two of you won't be able to explain yourselves."

Both of them, looking exactly like they'd just been in a fight, at the exact same time. Even those sub-humans in Class D would guess in a single second that the two of them had brawled.

Not to mention that Miss Wang, who knew the two of them were trapped together in this room.

"On that point—I'm still willing to admit it."

Horikita was still stubbornly defiant. Furrowing her brows faintly, her usually cool, clear eyes stared unfocused at the ceiling. Her cheek unconsciously drew closer to Fuyuji's shoulder.Her originally meticulous black hair was now scattered and disheveled like a waterfall. A few strands clung to her smooth yet slightly pale temples and neck, matted with sweat. The hair tie for her ponytail had vanished to who-knew-where.

That beige, loose lounge wear of hers could only be described as devastating. One shoulder strap had slipped off entirely, revealing the elegant line of her collarbone and a small patch of fair shoulder skin, upon which a few faint, slender red marks were visible. The sleeve on the other side had been tugged and wrinkled, sliding down to her elbow. Her collar sat askew, and beneath her collarbone, a small, not-too-obvious bruise could be seen—probably from crashing into the corner of the desk.

"In that case—I can turn your own trick against you and tell the entire class that you attacked me. Then you won't be able to stay in Class D any longer."

In order not to be outdone, Kushida even proposed a plan that went against her own established persona. She curled up into a ball. Her carefully styled brown hair hung scattered and disheveled, her hair accessory also nowhere to be found, veiling more than half her face. Her body tilted, bit by bit, toward Fuyuji's leg.

That pale yellow dress of hers had suffered heavy battle damage. The black bow decoration at the waist had vanished without a trace. One shoulder strap hung loose and drooping. The hem of her skirt had been torn with a considerable gash, its edges ragged and uneven, revealing the skin of her thigh beneath—also marked with several faint red scratches. Her white knee-high socks had been snagged and torn with a small hole near the ankle. The tips of her socks were stained with dust. On her exposed knees and the outer side of her calf, several small abrasions could be seen, seeping tiny specks of blood.

"Kushida-san, since you found me—tss!" Horikita suddenly sucked in a sharp breath. Her usually indifferent face scrunched up. Closing her eyes, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Since you found me an eyesore and didn't want me to know about your middle school days—couldn't you have just ignored me? The students at Advanced Nurturing High come from all over the country. Even if I recognized you, I couldn't have been sure. And your standing in the class is higher than mine. Even if I said something, probably no one would believe me anyway."

"Give me a break. This—are you trying to kill me?!" Kushida reflexively shot back, only to be struck by the sting of the disinfecting alcohol. She bit down fiercely on Fuyuji's arm. "Pour it slowly, one drop at a time, or I'll die! It hurts like hell! Anyway... disliking someone needs no reason. Just like liking someone..."

"..."

Horikita, having finally discovered the blind spot, turned her head and looked at Kushida.

"So—in truth, you simply detest me from the bottom of your heart. That's the real reason you want me to drop out, isn't it? It's not about me possibly knowing your past or anything like that..."

"That's right. You finally figured it out?" Kushida raised her head and glared fiercely back at her. "That's the main reason. Me—I've disliked you from the very beginning. I felt that your way of doing things was utterly incompatible with mine. It was practically denying my very worth as a person. As for the middle school stuff—that was just a bonus..."

Their gazes met at this moment. Within each other's eyes, they saw the other's bedraggled state. Just as they were about to instinctively voice their mockery—in the very next second, they shut their mouths.

Most likely, the other was seeing much the same thing in them.

"Alright." Fuyuji clapped his hands and stood back up. "At least neither of you went for the face. Otherwise, the wounds definitely wouldn't heal in just one day. You'd have to lie and say you went somewhere and got into a fight with some bad woman."

Horikita Suzune: "..."

Kushida Kikyo: "..."

Perhaps because they were truly exhausted, or perhaps for some other reason—neither of them responded.

Amidst a strange, eerie silence, Fuyuji returned the medical kit to its place. In the madder-red glow of the sunset, he lazily stretched his back and once again strode toward the balcony.

A plump white pigeon fluttered its wings and landed on the balcony, perching on Fuyuji's shoulder.

"Oh? What brings you here?" Fuyuji looked at this pigeon—whose weight oscillated wildly back and forth—and spoke with considerable excitement. "Want to cosplay CP9's strongest genius with me? We can go scrub the toilet of one of the Four Emperors later."

"Pfft..."

Watching that utterly scatterbrained guy in the distance, Kushida lowered her head and raised a hand to cover her mouth. A helpless laugh escaped her lips.

Beside her, Horikita also pressed a hand to her forehead and shook her head with a sigh.

But in the very next second—out of the corners of their eyes, each caught a glimpse of the girl beside them. Their movements came to an abrupt halt. In mutual, wordless silence, each retreated to a corner of the room.

Horikita silently gathered the stationery scattered beneath her desk. Kushida straightened the low table that had been knocked askew during their scuffle.

Finally, the room sank into a post-exhaustion calm.

In the gradually setting sun, Horikita once again pulled out her test papers to prepare for the upcoming special exam. Kushida also took her phone from her bag, her fingers rapidly tapping at the screen as she replied to messages on her social apps. As for Fuyuji—still humming some nameless little tune, he continued attempting to achieve Mega Evolution with his pigeon...

Slowly, in the silent room, the pen scratching across the paper grew less and less fluid. Those slender fingers were now only tapping aimlessly and meaninglessly.

On that day, neither of them knew exactly what they were doing. They only felt that time passed very slowly, repeating the thing they were best at over and over...

Later, when they recalled it, the only thing they remembered was—that bastard's humming was so terribly off-key!

...

Twilight had finally sunk to its deepest point.

Moonlight, like an invisible tide, silently flooded the entire campus. The sports field—so clamorous during the day—was now blanketed in a layer of silver frost. The two basketball teams that had been playing just moments ago had vanished at some unknown point. The branches of the ginkgo trees swayed gently in the cool night breeze, like black rice paddies swaying across the campus.

Inside Room 1201, the three of them still remained within their own tiny corners. No one encroached upon the other's territory—only occasionally getting up to use the restroom, refill a cup of hot tea, then continuing with their own business.

Gurgle—

A clear, resonant stomach growl—even carrying a faint echo—abruptly shattered this deliberately maintained silence.

Horikita's pen tip came to an abrupt halt. The cool, clear line of her profile seemed to tighten for an instant. Then, as though nothing had happened, she continued writing—only her pace was noticeably slower. The base of her ears were quietly dyed a faint, barely perceptible red.

Beside the low table, Kushida had just been about to open her mouth and mock—when another stomach growl, even more urgent and abrupt, came from the other corner of the room.

Her opened mouth was forcibly shut. She swiftly raised her eyes and shot a glance in Horikita's direction, then quickly lowered her head, attempting to use her scattered strands of hair to veil her instantly flushed cheeks.

Both of them now realized something. According to normal logic—the owner of the room should now go and cook. But Kushida would clearly not accept food made by Horikita. And vice versa.

The only solution at present was...

The corners of both young women's eyes simultaneously drifted toward a certain someone on the balcony, still "performing" with his pigeon.

Immediately after—beneath the death glares of the two of them—the utterly oblivious Fuyuji turned his head. With a sharp crunch, he bit off a chunk of chocolate. His cheeks puffed and bulged as he blinked.

"Burp~ What's wrong?"

At his feet—a heap of colorful yet empty snack bags and juice bottles lay scattered across the floor, silently testifying to his glorious achievements.

Horikita Suzune: "..."

Kushida Kikyo: "..."

The wall clock ticked and turned. The curtains lifted in the gentle breeze. Moonlight seized the opportunity to spill across the floor, tracing the rigid contours of the two of them.

In the silent room, faced with this seemingly insurmountable dilemma, Horikita was the first to rise. Powerlessly, she looked toward Kushida.

"Let's eat first. The rest can wait."

"Fine." The social expert Kushida—both body and mind utterly exhausted—let her shoulders collapse completely and lowered her head.

No matter how great the grudges and hatred, no matter how strong the pride—before the most primal physiological need of hunger—all of it paled into insignificance.

"Then—do you need my help?" Fuyuji puffed out his chest with confidence. "To be honest—I have considerable faith in my own culinary skills. It's a pity my talents have never had the chance to be put to use."

"Fuyuji-kun—please don't come and make trouble."

"You—go back and take a shower, then sleep."

The two of them made their way toward the kitchen in unspoken unison. Amidst the somewhat disordered sound of their footsteps, a calm, peaceful conversation drifted out.

"Kushida-san, can I leave the cutting and preparation to you?"

"I already told you not to issue orders on your own. I'll do it myself."

"Sorry. During the uninhabited island exam, I noticed you were quite skilled at cutting and prep work."

"You—were actually secretly watching me?"

"Yes. Because at the time, I suspected you might betray the class."

"Then let me tell you a secret. I did betray them. I told that bastard behind you."

"Is that so. No wonder he said that back then."

...

Amidst their back-and-forth chatter, the clatter of spatulas, the sizzle of ingredients hitting the pan, the sound of running water—all of it intertwined into a background noise brimming with the atmosphere of daily life. Before long, the aroma of home-cooked food drifted out from the kitchen, floating all the way into the deep, profound night sky, entwining with the cool, clear moonlight.

Steaming white rice. Grilled fish. Tempura. Simmered vegetables—all gleaming with an enticing luster.

Without pleasantries, and with no regard for table manners, the three of them silently picked up their chopsticks.

Horikita's movements still maintained a basic elegance, but the speed at which she ate was noticeably faster than usual. Kushida ate in small bites, her brows furrowing slightly from time to time whenever she accidentally touched the wound at the corner of her mouth. Yet the warmth of the food clearly relaxed her taut, rigid body.

Fuyuji—who had stuffed himself with a mountain of snacks before the meal—ate with the most relish. Even as he ate, he rendered his garbled, indistinct assessments. "Mm, this fried shrimp is pretty good... Ah, Suzune, you're not eating your ginger pork? And Cha—cough, Kikyo, why are you just poking at your rice with your chopsticks?"

Horikita shot him a glance and said nothing. Yet silently, she nudged her own plate of food just a little closer toward Fuyuji.

Kushida fiercely glared at him, then glanced at Horikita. She, too, said nothing. Lowering her head, she continued swallowing her food.

Moonlight streamed through the window and quietly spilled across the three young people, heads bowed over their meal. It gently, tenderly enveloped their figures, casting quiet shadows across the floor.

The fierce conflict—in this moment—seemed to have been temporarily smoothed and pressed flat by the warmth of the food.

Within the room, all that remained was the faint, soft clatter of bowls and chopsticks, and the sound of satisfied chewing.

As for what came after... whether they continued fighting, arguing, or something else—that was a problem to be faced only after their stomachs were filled.

-----------------------------------------------------------

If you want to Support me, you can Read Extra Chapters on : [email protected]/Yuni_TL

50 [Power Stones] = Bonus Chapter!