Steam still clung to Tang Coco like dawn mist as she finished her shower.

She slid into fresh underthings, cool as moonlight on skin.

From the wardrobe she pulled a black nightdress Li Muyan bought long ago, cloth sleeping like a quiet pond.

Back then she couldn’t accept it, so it stayed unworn, dust like fine snow.

Tonight she eased into the open-neck black dress; the gauzy hem breathed mystery like night fog.

Awkwardness pricked like a new shoe; first-time nerves fluttered like moths.

She let the feeling drift, then tiptoed to the vanity like a cat on tatami.

The dryer whirred warm as a summer wind, and her long hair lifted like grass after rain.

Once dry, it puffed soft and pearl-white, layered with that anime bounce.

She set down the dryer, swept her hair back like a waterfall caught in a hand, slipped into her slippers, and ran out.

She stopped at Ye Yiyi’s door next door, the hallway hushed like a midnight garden.

It was past ten; at this hour Yiyi should be washing up, routine steady as a temple bell.

Tang Coco stood at the threshold, heart fluttering like a caged bird.

Her heartbeat drummed, then she braced herself.

“Okay… to hell with it,” she breathed, courage like a spark in dry straw.

“I like Yiyi anyway; I’ll help her this once.”

She lifted her hand and knocked, soft as rain on bamboo.

Click.

After ten long seconds, the door swung open with a breath like cold air.

Ye Yiyi stood there in her going-out clothes, hair mussed like windblown reeds, cheeks rosy as winter peaches.

“Uh… you… you okay…” Tang Coco asked, her voice small as a sparrow.

She hadn’t expected Yiyi’s state to be this heavy, chill like water down the back.

“I’m fine. What are you doing?” Ye Yiyi said, face blank as stone, eyes skimming her like a blade.

“I… came to talk…” Tang Coco said, blush rising like embers.

“Talk? You don’t need to wear your nightdress inside out. Is that comfy?”

Her words fell dry as ash.

“Huh? Inside out?” Tang Coco blinked, confusion rippling like light on a pond.

She looked down. “No.”

She twisted to glance over her back, and there it was—the white tag at her waist, bright as a little flag.

“Uh…” Her face flushed deeper, heat blooming like a sunset.

She pinched the tag tight, foolish hope like paper over a fire.

“I’ll… I’ll come back later!”

Snap.

Ye Yiyi caught her forearm, grip firm as a bridle, and stopped her.

“Change here.”

She yanked Tang Coco inside like a gust, then shut the door with a thud like a drum.

Tang Coco hadn’t expected that, surprise popping like a carp in a pond.

Still, being pulled in meant her plan was half done, hope flickering like a lantern.

She sat on the bed, slipped off the nightdress, the cloth cool as water, and laid it on her lap.

She fumbled at it, trying to find the right side, fingers searching like blind fish.

A shadow fell over her, then a hard push rolled through her like a wave.

“Ah!”

Ye Yiyi lunged like a hawk, pinning Tang Coco to the bed with storm-quick hands.

She trapped Coco’s wrists and sat on her lower belly, balance poised like a rider on a steed.

Coco wore only two pieces that mattered; snow-white skin opened to the air like winter fields.

The sudden move stunned her, daze buzzing like bees, but sense settled fast as dust.

Seeing the strained color on Yiyi’s face, she didn’t fight, restraint soft as silk.

“Yiyi? Are you okay?”

Silence pooled like ink.

“About tonight… you really misunderstood,” Tang Coco said, voice gentle as a lullaby.

“Let me explain, okay?”

“Coco…” Ye Yiyi breathed, her tone light as a reed.

“Mm?”

“You… you like me, right…” Her voice trembled like a plucked string.

“Of course,” Tang Coco said softly, calm like warm tea.

“I’ve said it before.”

“I… I believe you… but why does it hurt so much…”

Her words broke, grief like a thorn under the heart.

“I shouldn’t mind you being with others… with Li Muyan… with Xin’er-jie… I shouldn’t…”

Tears gathered at her lashes, silver like dew.

Tang Coco finally understood, clarity falling like rain on dust.

She gently slipped free, then wrapped Ye Yiyi close, an embrace like a quilt in winter.

She let Yiyi lie on her, their breathing syncing like tide and moon.

“Yiyi… I get it,” Tang Coco murmured, voice soft as cotton.

“Let me tell you a story, okay…”

“What story…” Ye Yiyi held her tight, sobs small like hiccups.

“You’ll want to hear it,” Tang Coco said, a smile faint as incense smoke.

“But first… let me put my clothes on… Like this, I feel exposed, like standing in the wind.”