Sigh—his breath spilled like mist, and bitterness pooled like cold tea at the bottom of his heart.

Of course he felt like a stormcloud. A yuri-obsessed maniac had just tossed him off a landing; if luck hadn’t caught him, he’d be bedbound for days. As it was, a Band-Aid clung to his right cheek like a patch on porcelain.

I just happened to have girls nearby. Why punish me like this, boo-hoo... like kicking a stray cat.

“Hey, you sissy, stop playing the victim!” The voice snapped like a slapped surface.

A girl spoke, sharp as a pebble skipping across a pond; you could guess who it was without any names.

“Figures. Maya Hanazaka...” The name bloomed into a headache.

Just my luck. Why do I keep stepping on the same rake?

“Hey, what’s with that annoyed face? You got a death wish?” Her words pricked like thorns.

“I can’t be bothered with you. Move. You’re in my way.” His voice went flat as ice.

Yun Shi snorted, a puff of frost, and walked past Maya Hanazaka like wind past a post. That alone stoked her fury like dry tinder.

“Stop right there, sissy!” Her shout cracked like a whip.

“What now? You’re so annoying.” The complaint fluttered like a trapped moth.

Yun Shi turned, temper sparking, and shot her a glare. Maya didn’t flinch and snapped, “I haven’t settled the score! You actually laid a hand on Mizuki!” Thunder under her tongue.

“What’s that to you!” He flung it back like a stone.

“How could it not!” Waves slapped a pier.

“Tch, you’re loud. You like girls? I won’t stop you. Take them all; I don’t care!” He hurled the words like knives.

Heat rushed to his head as he threw that line, then he snapped his face away, a bristling cat done with the world.

Sure, toss him off a stairwell and call it a day, and she still doesn’t repent. Who would smile after that unless they’re a masochist? Spare him the “boys should be gentle and forgiving” trope—that’s anime-protagonist nonsense, blown like paper charms in a gale. Being nice to this perv is useless; why eat dirt for her? He hates her.

He was angry, no doubt, and the girlish part in his chest curled tight like a bud, prickly and small.

“Hey, you...” Her voice wavered like a moth circling a flame.

Maya blinked, thrown off; her usual tone with boys had, for the first time, truly riled the “boy” in front of her. Her hands felt empty, like a fighter’s feint meeting air. Other guys wilted under this routine, gray as ash, sinking into gloom. But her moves never landed on Yunshi Bianqi; the boy with a face prettier than most girls never folded. Often he barely acknowledged her, like a breeze that wouldn’t be caught, and only now and then did he react.

So Maya wanted to try again, to knock him into a slump; she refused to believe her tricks wouldn’t work on him, like keys that fit every lock but his.

But today, making him angry was a first, like lightning at noon.

“Why’s a guy so petty? Don’t you know how to be forgiving?” She tossed it like feathers, but they had edges.

She hadn’t planned to make him mad; mishandle this, and he’d end up hating her, like a door slamming in winter.

“Hmph, like I care! Hmph, you want that? I refuse! Hmph!” Each snort puffed like steam from a kettle.

With each snort, Yun Shi glanced back, then jerked away again, arms folded tight like a barricade.

Picture this: a doll that moved like a girl, raw jade uncarved, a bud about to open. That doll-like kid folded his arms, eyes clear as spring water, a perfect oval face tinged with green shyness. He glared at you, then turned away, refusing to look, yet his profile showed a tremor of unease, a ripple under ice. Because of that, anger just wouldn’t bloom.

“...........”

Why on earth is he so cute—what is this! Her composure dropped like a trapdoor.

Impossible. He’s clearly a guy, so why does it feel like being with a girl, like petals brushing my sleeve!

Maya had to admit it: she’d been moe-struck, like an arrow dipped in sugar. She, a dyed-in-the-wool yuri girl, got charmed by a crossdressing boy. “No way. I’m gay, okay...”

“Hey, Maya Hanazaka, what are you pulling? You’re the worst!” His words swished like a broom through dust.

Damn it, how can such naked tsundere be this cute... like honey poured on a flame.

“No, it’s nothing...” Maya’s mood knotted like wet string.

“Hmph.” A small coal of sound.

Yun Shi snorted through his nose, done engaging; she was unbearable, grit in his shoe.

He’d clawed his way from the ground floor back to the corridor; he wasn’t planning to get tossed again. Better head back early and duck the rain under an eave.

“Hey, Yunshi Bianqi, hold up a sec...” Her call reached like a snagging hook.

Maya wanted to stop that girl-pretty, boyish figure and ask a few things, words lining up like sparrows on a wire.

And then...

“Ah—” A startled note rang like a tapped bell.

Suddenly, Yun Shi was bumped and went down on the floorboards. Luckily the person was light; it felt like a soft weight thudding into him, and he just ended up sitting.

“Sorry! Are you okay?” Her apology fluttered like tossed petals.

The speaker was the girl who’d bumped him. Cherry-pink hair, a cute rabbit clip at her brow, features soft as dawn. Her face held deep apology, guilt clinging like drizzle over a pond.

“Hmph. I wouldn’t get hurt over something this small.” A blade of grass bending, not breaking.

Maybe the fire still smoldered; Yun Shi turned his head away, calm as frost, stood up, and dusted his clothes like brushing off ash.

To the girl, though, Yun Shi looked angry, a sky hiding thunder.

“I’m sorry, really sorry, I didn’t mean it—please forgive me!” Her words tumbled like beads.

“I’m not mad.” Flat as a still lake.

“You’re clearly mad.” A finger poked at a cloud.

“I’m really not. Stop bowing and apologizing.” A hand held up an umbrella.

“But you are mad, right?” A sparrow pecked at stubborn seed.

“I said I’m not.” A gate set firm.

Before they knew it, they were squabbling over a trifle, a spark that, oddly, opened a line between them like a path in grass.

“Ohh, what a cute girl!” Sunlight scattered her earlier gloom.

The yuri-obsessed perv lit up, her messy mood blown to the heavens. With her trademark grin, she strutted in, put on what she thought was a cool look, grabbed the girl’s hands, and said, “Hey, are you alright?”

“Uh, y-yeah, I’m fine,” the girl said, brain stalling like a frozen screen.

“Good. Then I can relax,” Maya breathed, a knot loosening.

“Um, excuse me, classmate...” The words drifted like a falling leaf.

“Yeah? What is it?” Quick as a flicked fan.

“Who are you?” Blunt as a pebble to the forehead.

“..............”

Maya’s face froze, her planned flirtation collapsing like a sandcastle into awkward silence.

“Ma-ya. I’m Maya Hanazaka. And you?” She still introduced herself politely, like offering tea.

“I’m Songhai Yan Er.” The name lay on the air like fresh ink.

“Yan Er-chan, right? Please take care of me,” she chimed, warmth flowing like spring.

Maya with girls was all sunshine, nothing like when she tormented a certain someone. Faced with that double standard, Yun Shi felt heat rise like wildfire.

“By the way, you there—who are you?” Yan Er tossed the question his way, the ball arcing like a swallow.

To her, the boy left on the sidelines mattered more than Maya.

Yun Shi didn’t want to answer, but if he stayed silent, Maya would pound him... with lectures, raining down like hail.

“Yunshi Bianqi.” The name landed steady as a stamp.

Better to behave; he’d been scolded enough to flinch like a cat at thunder.

“Bianqi? As in the rumored Yunshi Bianqi...” Her voice thinned like mist.

For some reason, Yan Er began to tremble at his name. Her expression shifted, wary, as if she were looking at something unlucky, a shadow at noon.

“I’m not that bad a person...” he murmured, the world’s malice settling on his shoulders like cold rain.

Once again, Yun Shi felt the world’s ill will, a chill draft under the door.