In the locker room, a blonde Little Loli stood numb before the mirror, a rain of wet gold clinging to her shoulders like wilted petals. Her lids were tinged pink from stormed-over tears. Those golden eyes, usually bright as coins in sunlight, had no focus at all. Hurt came first, like a cold needle in the chest. I wasn’t supposed to care… so why does it hurt this much?
Everything that happened replayed like a projector in the dark. The boys’ faces—reckless, a little crazed—flashed like sparks. The girls watched coldly, their eyes like glass behind a window. Each look pricked into Xiao Qianxue’s heart one thin needle at a time.
They’re nobodies, trash I never put in my eyes. I know Ou Xiangyang ordered it. So why am I… why am I sad? The thought broke, and tears slipped down that flawless face. Plink—each drop kissed the tile with a crisp ring, like beads hitting porcelain. Back then, he had been the most swaggering in class; everyone watched his mood, no one dared defy his word.
He’d been the school’s top dog—grades decent, family background like a shadowed mountain, handsome and trailed by a pack of followers. A so‑called winner at life. Now she was just a little girl. Besides a face that stole breath and a power that wasn’t normal, there wasn’t anything special.
Habit said be the boss; reality set her down hard. I only wanted a new way to live, to be a quiet, icy goddess. How did it turn out like this? The gap was a cliff; her mood slipped, then shattered on the rocks below.
She pressed cool, pale fingers to her cheeks, emotion first, then action; she erased the tear streaks until the mirror held only calm. The hair dryer hummed; damp gold rose and fell like wheat in a breeze. She put it down and hurried back to class.
Not long after she slipped in, the class rep ran in and dropped into the seat beside her. Warmth rose first; he’s helped me a lot. “Did you need something?” Little Loli asked softly, voice wrapped in silk, then added a honeyed smile.
“Ah… no, just checking on you,” he said, stunned by that smile like a deer in sudden sun. “I already told the homeroom teacher. She approved it. You can head out later.”
“Oh? Really? Thank you so much! I’m feeling a little better now,” Little Loli said, gratitude bright as a lantern. “Th-then I’ll get back to the gym. Head home safe later, okay? Bye.” The class rep blushed, then fled like a startled rabbit. Who can keep composure in front of a cute creature?
“Yes! I can go home and catch up on anime. Let’s go!” She scooped up her bag as if tossing worries to the wind. She vaulted straight out the classroom window, then skimmed along eaves and wall-ran home like a swallow racing dusk.
Click. The door eased open. “Tadaima—I’m back!” her clear voice floated through the house like a bell. Silence answered, as still as a pond. “Eh? Did Dad and Mom head out?” Little Loli craned her small head around corners; the rooms lay quiet as closed books.
“I thought there’d be snacks waiting…” Her cheeks puffed into a bun face, then deflated. She slipped into pajamas, bundled herself on the couch, and fired up her iPad. Assassination Classroom lit the room like a neon jellyfish. “Koro-sensei’s insane. Even in my battle form, I might not tag him,” she murmured, watching that yellow octopus tease a scrubbed-clean chairman.
Somewhere between scenes, sleep stole in. Xiao Qianxue curled on the sofa, smaller and smaller, emotion folding her like paper. She tucked in tighter until she became a tiny ball. Her golden hair wrapped around her like sunlight spun into thread. From a distance, she looked like a little orb of gold—irresistibly cute.
“Mmm—slept so well. Wait, why did I fall asleep?” Awareness flicked back. She uncurled from ball mode at once. A blanket had slid to the floor with a whisper. The lights glowed warm; outside was ink-black. “Little lazybones, time to wake up—” A voice brushed her, and fingers playfully scraped her nose.
“Hey! Who was that?” Little Loli scooted to the far end of the sofa, rubbing eyes still fogged with dream. Her dad sat at the other end, smiling, eyes crescented like a kindly moon.
“You pervy dad!” she huffed, lips puckering. She snatched a pillow and hurled it. Thunk. “Ow.” He peeled the pillow off his face, more amused than hurt. “Xiaoxue, your eyes changed color. Keep an eye on that.” He pointed toward the kitchen with a suddenly serious look. From the stove came the music of sizzling oil, like rain tapping bamboo.
“Got it.” Little Loli giggled and let her bangs slide down to veil her eyes. “Alright, dinner time.” Dad scooped her up from the couch as if lifting a cat, then headed for the dining room. “Quit it, you beastly dad!” she protested, cheeks heating, little fists tapping his cheek like falling petals. She didn’t really push him away.
After dinner, her parents traded a look across steam and porcelain. “Xiaoxue, your teacher called today,” her dad said first, voice a steady drumbeat. “Can you tell us what happened?”
“It was nothing…” she said around another bite, eating like she had to fill a hollow place.
“Do you want to switch schools?” her mom asked, drawing the battle line closer without blinking.
Thunk. Little Loli set her bowl down, spine straight as a spear. “Absolutely not.” In that class were her best friend Joanna and her biggest enemy, Ou Xiangyang. She wouldn’t rest until she settled things with him.
“Why? They treated you like that. Why stay?” Her mother’s worry rose like a tide, tugging at her ankles.
“No reason,” she said, letting pride speak first and hurt trail after. “Some things I can’t put down. And it was just some water… nothing serious…” Her voice faded, thread-thin.
It had happened while Joanna wasn’t there. If she had been, it wouldn’t have gone that way. Her parents heard all that she didn’t say. “Alright. It’s your decision. We’ll respect it,” her dad said at last, gentleness like a hand on a shoulder. “But if it happens again, you leave, immediately.” They doted on their girl; kindness made them soft. They knew the taste of being shut out. If she’d chosen, they wouldn’t force her away from it.
“Okay. I’m done.” Xiao Qianxue set down her chopsticks and slipped into her room, a wisp of gold disappearing behind the door.
Night deepened. The sky was a clear marine blue, sinking into a sea’s quiet. A bright moon hung above, watching over every corner of the world like a silent guardian. A soft breeze brushed Little Loli’s cheek and lifted one fine strand of gold, a ripple across still water.
She sat on the windowsill and met the moon’s gaze. Her dual-colored eyes—gold and ember—held the flawless disc like a coin on dark velvet. She reached out to the sky, fingers closing as if to catch something falling. Air flowed through, cool and empty. She folded her hands to her chest. In moonlight she was all luminous grace, and tears slipped from the corners of her eyes like clear threads. Another quiet night, isn’t it…
The End
