Shelves stood neat as rows of bamboo, stretching on and on, teeming with students. Some read, some carted books; most bent over problem sets at the tables. Quiet wrapped the room like morning mist; only footsteps and page-ruffles stirred the air. On the tables, books sat in ordered stacks, and faces lowered like cranes in thought.

Mizuki stared at the worksheet, her cute face scrunched like a crushed paper blossom. Helpless eyes held a small prayer. She had no choice but to push the problem toward the “boy” across the table.

“Yun Shi-kun…”

“Which one?”

“Uh… oh, this one.”

She hadn’t expected such a crisp reply; she paused like a sparrow startled from a branch, then pointed it out anyway.

Yun Shi stilled the turning pages as if halting a breeze, rose, moved to Mizuki’s side, and studied the question closely.

Up close, Mizuki drifted, as if pulled by a tide. That calm, small face felt like a quiet pond. Her pale, fine neck was polished jade that begged a second glance. Above were cherry-blossom lips and a button nose. Her eyes were calm yet intent, always drawing you in like a lantern in dusk.

Is this one really a boy…

No wonder Mizuki kept thinking that; this pretty one kept people questioning his gender, like fog over a lake.

In truth, boys who look like girls aren’t rare; what’s rare is the kind that could fool your eye. Still lost? Fine—Yun Shi’s a girl passing as a boy, a fox wearing a borrowed pelt.

Maybe that’s why Mizuki spoke to her without a guard. Yun Shi had none of a boy’s air and a face straight out of spring, so Mizuki treated her like a girl, not like a boy.

“Mizuki, are you listening?”

“Ah… yes, I’m listening!”

“For real?”

Under Yun Shi’s doubtful gaze, Mizuki felt caught like a rabbit under moonlight. She couldn’t admit she’d been staring, lost in him.

Who told Yun-kun to be sweeter than cherry mochi… It makes even a girl like me jealous… Mizuki grumbled inwardly, a sigh like wind through plum trees.

Fine, pretty boys are cute; girls love cute things. Around creatures like Yun Shi, a maternal halo just pops into being—hazy filter and all.

Exams were looming, and students drifted out to review like leaves seeking sunlight. Mizuki, ever diligent, had to study too. Mai and Yan Er were tied up; Mizuki and Sham were off abroad. So she could only drag idle, free-floating Yun Shi along to study.

She thought Yun Shi would refuse; to her shock, Yun Shi agreed. Mizuki blinked like a bird on a wire—since when did this one act like she had friends?

Yun Shi didn’t explain; she truly saw them as friends, so she came. In her mind, a friend’s invitation wasn’t something you casually refuse, like rain you don’t ignore.

The girl who wouldn’t admit to friends… today proved herself wrong. Even Yun Shi felt surprised, ice thawing at her edges. She remembered insisting she was a passerby, that they had their own world. Now she still wasn’t honest, but at least she didn’t refuse. She’d begun to admit friends exist, a small flame under snow.

“Um, Yun-kun, I can’t do this one.”

“Let me see. Look, you untangle this part first…”

Yun Shi solved it for her as naturally as pouring tea, with no trace of impatience. That left Mizuki flattered and dazed, like steam rising off a cup.

Morning sun was gentle; near noon it turned venomous, a forge at full blaze. After a whole morning’s study, Mizuki closed up and went with Yun Shi for lunch nearby. The blazing sun bullied them like a desert whip. Mizuki was fine, in airy summer clothes. Yun Shi suffered; she wore the only casual outfit she owned—and beneath it, a chest binder. A binder isn’t like a bra; it doesn’t breathe, a band of heat tight as iron. It was a miracle she didn’t melt.

What can you do? Fate dealt her the hand of a woman… yet she had to play at being a man, a leaf pushed against the current.

After lunch, Yun Shi walked with Mizuki, picking up trinkets—bracelets, hair clips, skincare, little stars on strings. Mizuki bought plenty; the rich miss lived up to her name. Yun Shi grabbed a few things at random. She had to tutor Mizuki later, so she split with Mizuki, paths parting like twin streams.

Study sessions were only ever the two of them; the afternoon would be the same. It wasn’t hard for Mizuki to come back from England. In fact, Mizuki had gotten home last night; she should be at home now, a harbor lamp lit.

Yun Shi walked alone, heading toward Mizuki’s house. With every step, the goal drew nearer; a small sense of accomplishment rose in her chest like a lantern being lit.

Suddenly, Yun Shi halted in a narrow alley. Something sly flickered in her eyes, like a fox slipping through bamboo.

“Meow~”

A cat came into view, flopped there like a cotton cloud, half waiting for food, half dozing. In short, Yun Shi’s heart wasn’t calm.

So cute.

Yes, she was hit by pure moe; a blush bloomed on her small face like peach petals. Her fingers itched to reach out. Her eyes shone with wanting, a tide pulling shoreward.

Soft, round kitten; innocent gaze; little paws swaying now and then—like it was saying, Come here, come play.

How can something be this tempting!

And why does a cat appear just when I’m near Miyuki Kiseki’s house, like fate blocking the road with a furry gate!

What do I do—drop the cute kitty and go to a friend’s place, or stay and play with the cute kitty… No! Both are too cruel, like choosing between sun and rain!

Heaven, why do you treat me this way!

“Meow~”

Oh heavens, that innocent look and that darling cry are criminal. They make you go soft like warm wax. Curse it! What about studying!

“Yun-kun, you’re here.”

“Aaaaah!!”

A familiar voice rose behind her. Yun Shi jolted hard, springing up like a cat with its fur blasted.

“Wh-why are you here!”

“Eh, my place is nearby. I just ran into you.”

“R-right, that, haha.”

Yun Shi’s eyes skittered like minnows; she tried not to look at her. Mizuki’s expression turned odd. She spotted the kitten behind Yun Shi and the nerves drawn tight like string; something clicked.

“What a cute kitty~”

“Uh…”

“It often wanders here. I’ve seen it a few times. No matter how many times, it’s adorable. Don’t you think so, Yun-kun~”

“Mm, cute? It’s just a cat. You’re making a fuss.”

Yun Shi folded her arms and turned away, pretending total indifference, stone-faced as a cliff. Mizuki was speechless.

All right, here she goes again. So not honest, a shell around a pearl.

“Then, shall we…”

“Don’t—don’t misunderstand. I have zero interest in tiny things like that. None at all! Come on, tutoring—don’t waste time!”

Mizuki opened her mouth to speak, but Yun Shi, flustered, rushed into excuses, words tumbling like pebbles. She even forced down the blush on her face, then strode out of the alley, leaving a bewildered Mizuki and an innocent cat behind.

Only she knew her expression was as mournful as a rain-soaked willow.

Mizuki sighed, helpless as a drifting leaf. She turned, stroked the kitten’s head, gave it two apologetic looks, then chased after Yun Shi, steps quick as wind on water.

They reached Mizuki’s home. Yun Shi felt little awe; she’d been here once, so it was familiar ground. Inside was the same grand hall, echoing like a cool cave. What surprised her was the absence of Mizuki’s family she’d met before, silence like still water.

“My mom and sister went out, so it’s just me home this afternoon,” Mizuki said with a smile, warm as tea steam.

“Eh, only you’re home…”

“Mm, what’s wrong?”

“…Nothing.”

Mizuki puzzled at her reaction, then realized: the whole house held only the two of them. Under one roof, just them—like two birds on one branch.

A lone man and a lone woman!

Her face went red like a sunset; she never saw this coming.

Yun Shi might be fine, but Mizuki had a problem. In her eyes, Yun Shi was a boy, a spark near tinder. Sharing a roof with a boy? That’s a privilege for lovers, rain behind closed doors!

No, no—Yun-kun is cute. Treat him like a girl and it’ll be fine. It’ll be fine, Mizuki told herself, like calming waves with words.

If they were going to study, they had to head to a room, and here that meant Mizuki’s room. So, no surprise, Yun Shi entered Mizuki’s room, the threshold a petal gate.

A normal girl’s room: rose-pink as the main, white as the trim, tidy desk tools lined like soldiers, plush dolls glowing on the bed like soft guardians.

Though Yun Shi herself was a girl, this was her first time in a female friend’s room. It had been so all her life, a path never taken through a garden.

“Hehe, since elementary school, this is my first time letting a boy into my room,” Mizuki said, scratching her head with an embarrassed smile, a sunbeam peeking through leaves.

“Then I should feel honored…”

For some reason, hearing that someone else—a boy—had been in Mizuki’s room, even back in grade school, pricked a small thorn in Yun Shi’s heart.

She didn’t know why, a ripple she couldn’t smooth.

“Yun-kun?”

“It’s nothing. Let’s get to the session.”

Yun Shi didn’t dwell at that rough edge; she set the thread back on the loom and pointed at the reason she’d come.

“Right, Yun-kun. Sit. Let’s start.”

Mizuki smiled, motioned Yun Shi to sit, fetched her books and worksheets, then went to brew tea, steam curling like morning mist.

Yun Shi sat, drew a deep breath like drawing in the sea. She looked at the books before her and picked up a pen, a brush before battle.

All right—another round of study begins. Today, truly busy, a drumbeat in the heart.