“You...”
“Don’t do anything stupid again!”
Nana Toki had just opened her mouth; the girl across from her beat her to it, like an arrow loosed before the bow finished bending.
Nana Toki: ???
No.
I’m the one not thinking straight?
Where did that come from?
“The world’s still beautiful out there. Don’t throw away your whole life over a passing storm.”
Yuzuki stood by the curtain like a startled sparrow, fingers clutching the fabric, nerves humming like a caught moth’s wings.
“A-and, um, I cleaned my room.”
Who cares about that right now?
“So that means you ambushed me last night?”
Nana Toki pulled the towel off her head and straightened, eyes locking onto the girl like a needle pinning a butterfly.
This hidden quest might be fun.
Under that deep stare, Yuzuki’s skin prickled. Her throat went dry like sand in an empty hourglass.
“I—I just wanted you to calm down... please don’t do anything rash...”
Nana Toki: ...
Great job. Who talks someone off a ledge with a stun baton?
But.
Back to the point.
“How did you find me?”
Last night at the café, she’d ghosted out like smoke. No one should’ve noticed. How did this girl track her?
“Uh... I, um...” Yuzuki’s voice fluttered. “I was heading home and ran into you...”
“And then you tased me and dragged me back?”
Nana Toki glanced at the stun baton on the coffee table, its black shell dull as a snake’s scale. “Lucky I’ve got a tough life. Could’ve died from your ‘rescue.’”
“I—I’m sorry...”
“Forget it.”
Hidden quest comes first.
Seeing Yuzuki’s head sink even lower, Nana Toki waved it off, casual as a leaf catching wind. “Don’t do it again.”
System: Host, you’re not angry?!
Surprise rang like a dropped chime. First meeting or not, the System had never filed Nana Toki under “good person.”
You’ve got a grudge against me, trash System.
Nana Toki rubbed her temples, soreness throbbing like low thunder.
Do I look like the type who throws punches at the drop of a hat?
System: Aren’t you?
The System was stunned, as if slapped by cold water. So she has zero self-awareness?!
“Uh... um...”
“What is it?”
Nana Toki turned, gaze steady as a still pond. “Anything else?”
“I made breakfast porridge... d-do you want some?”
Yuzuki pointed at the kitchen, eyes flicking like minnows. Invitation was written on the steam in the air.
Grrr—
Right on cue, Nana Toki’s stomach drummed like an empty barrel.
...
After breakfast, Yuzuki rinsed the bowls and slipped out for school, her steps quick as sparrow hops.
She was a high schooler too, a night breeze kind of girl who picked up part-time shifts after dark. Last night, she’d been working at the café.
“You’re really leaving me here alone? Aren’t you afraid I’ll walk off with your stuff?”
Nana Toki tossed the question like a pebble into a quiet stream.
“I... um... I think you’re a good person...”
Yuzuki’s cheeks flushed a mystifying pink, like sunset leaking under snow. (The System muttered in the background, invisible eyes rolling.)
So, without rhyme or reason, Nana Toki got handed a random “you’re a good person” badge by a girl she barely knew.
Nana Toki: ???
System: Host, are you heading out too?
Yuzuki stepped out the front door; Nana Toki was already at the entryway, bending to change shoes, a shadow ready to move.
Yeah. Of course I’m going out.
It took her forever to wrangle her black, studded knee-high leather boots on, the laces stubborn as thorn vines.
The one who fed me drugs is still out there. The male and female leads haven’t met.
Let’s push the main quest.
System: ...
Push the main quest if you must, but what’s with that twitchy smile? I’m scared.
Less talk. We move.
...
As expected.
Just a few steps into Tinglan High, whispers swarmed like midges over water.
“Look, it’s Suo Sen.”
“The one who ruined Brother Yan’s plan?”
“Heard Diguang poached her. Someone saw her go in and out of a Black Street hotel with Diguang people last night.”
“So cheap. Brother Yan backed her, and that’s how she pays him back?”
“She brought it on herself—jealous of Chen Yiyi, tried to play dirty, and got burned.”
A few who really couldn’t stand her lobbed rotten fruit, overripe skins flying like bruised comets.
...
Sticky juice smeared her clothes, a sickly-sweet stench rising like swamp gas. Nana Toki’s blank mask finally shifted, a faint crack in the ice.
“Who threw it?”
Her gaze was cold as moonlit spring water in the mountains. The sound alone could chill a spine like frost down a windowpane.
The air felt colder by degrees, like clouds sliding over the sun. Ripples of chatter shrank away.
No one answered, though the pointing and murmurs thinned like mist at dawn.
Suo Sen seems... different.
“I’ll ask again. Who threw it?”
Nana Toki swept the crowd with a winter hawk’s stare. Wherever it fell, eyes flinched away, fear blooming like a shadow under the ribs.
But—
“I did. So what?”
A bored voice cut through the hush, a pebble skipping across glass.
There were always a few who didn’t fear the cliff.
Nana Toki turned toward the sound. A mohawk sauntered out, clothes torn like gnawed leaves, a chain around his neck glinting dull as rain-wet iron. “What? You got a problem?”
He looked at her with a hyena’s sneer, arrogance dripping like oil.
Nana Toki said nothing. She watched him, eyes flat as a drawn blade.
“What are you looking at? Got a problem with your grandpa?”
He smirked at her frostbitten calm, grin slicing like a cheap knife.
Heh.
From the original body’s memories, this mohawk had pushed hard when the frame-up hit. Not a good person. Not even close.
Nana Toki let a thin smile show, a crescent of winter. Then her hand shot out for his head like a hawk snatching a hare.
“What are you—”
He didn’t finish. She fisted his hair and yanked him down, hard. His face met the ground with a brutal thud, a drumbeat of bone on earth.
Blood sprayed like crushed berries across the pavement.
He couldn’t even scream. His body spasmed once, then went slack, a puppet with its strings cut.
The crowd recoiled, silence falling like sudden snow. No one dared breathe too loud.
In their minds, Suo Sen didn’t just tear into people without cause.
“Think I’m easy to bully?”
Nana Toki crouched and hauled up his head by the hair, dangling him like a dead dog so their eyes leveled.
His face was a mess of dust and blood, a ruined peach trampled underfoot. Her voice was winter-quiet, cutting to the bone.
A shiver went around the ring of students like wind through dry reeds.
This woman... something’s wrong with her.
