“Anyway, back to the point—Junior Lu, do you know why Wen-chan insists on wearing the autumn work uniform even in this furnace of a day?”

“Long sleeves?” Nana Toki froze, like a sparrow pausing mid-hop in the shade. Without your reminder, I wouldn’t have noticed. The shop has summer and autumn versions with the same cut, only the sleeves change. “Is she one of those women who don’t feel heat?”

“...Come on.” Zhao Sitian’s sigh drifted like warm steam off a kettle. “People like that don’t exist.”

“Alright, alright. You won’t guess it anyway.” She lowered her voice like the room dimming at dusk. “Wen-chan’s got quite a few marks on her body... not the kind that leave scars. Just bruises from the usual bumps and hits.”

“Bruises from hits?” Nana gave her a look, cool as a fan’s shadow. “So, beaten. I already knew that.” And I already healed the scars, like smoothing ripples from a pond.

“Huh?” Zhao blinked, stunned like a bird at a window. “Wait, how would you know? You never went to the locker room with her. Hold up... did you peek at Wen-chan changing?” When did that even happen!

“Peek your own sister.” Nana’s glare snapped like a twig underfoot. “Who sneaks to watch people change? I look openly, thanks.”

Also...

“I found out half a month ago, when we were playing with an inflatable kiddie pool on the school rooftop.” Her tone was sunny, like water glittering in a basin. “And she healed after that, didn’t she?”

“Mm? Hold up, what did you just say?” Zhao leaned in, eyes wide as lanterns. “Playing with an inflatable pool on your school rooftop? Your school allows that?”

“It doesn’t.” Nana answered as if tasting cold tea.

“...” Zhao stared, helpless as a cat in the rain. “Are high-schoolers this reckless now?”

“And what do you mean healed?” Her expression turned odd, like clouds snagged on a peak. “I saw a huge ugly bruise on her arm a few days ago.” She hid behind the table and spread her hands, showing the size like shaping a dark moon.

“I thought I was seeing things. If Wen-chan hadn’t panicked and covered up, I would’ve blamed my eyes.”

“Wait... a few days ago?” A chill skated through Nana’s chest like a draft through paper screens, and her face darkened. A few days is long after I asked the System to heal her. There shouldn’t be any leftover wounds.

“Y-yeah, a few days ago... What’s wrong?” Zhao saw Nana’s mood plunge like a stone into a well and stammered. So much for calm—why the sudden storm?

“That’s strange...” Nana’s thoughts flicked like beads. The System’s unreliable in many ways, but not in healing; that’s ironclad, like a temple bell. If Wen Quan’s covered in fresh bruises now, it means she was bullied again after the last healing. Looks like trouble prowls not only at school but outside too, like stray dogs in the alley.

And from Zhao’s angle, the bully’s methods turned nastier, like thorns growing back sharper. Maybe seeing her healed sparked a crueler itch to hurt.

Nana’s expression shifted, clouds breaking and forming, until Wen Quan arrived. Only then did her face smooth like a calm pond.

“What are you two talking about?” Wen Quan came from the back with a milk coffee, steam curling like silk, curiosity leaning in.

“Nothing much.” Nana’s smile was a soft fan opening, her earlier gloom gone like morning mist. “Just asking your colleague what the dignified Miss Wen looks like when she’s at work.”

Zhao’s info was useful, like a map sketched in charcoal. The rest, I’ll check tonight, under streetlamps and moth wings.

“What else would I look like?” Wen Quan rolled her eyes, cool as a drizzle. “Exactly what you’re seeing.” She set the coffee down with a steady hand. “Anyway, Classmate Lu, don’t you have other things to do? Finish your coffee and get to it.”

“Hey, I just got here.” Nana stirred with the long spoon, the clink light as windchimes. She put on a theatrically wounded face, a mask tilted just so. “So eager to kick me out? Do you hate me that much?”

“...” Wen Quan stared at her, patience thin as paper. Must you always act like this?

“Oh—right. This is for you.” Nana fished out a slip that looked like a paper charm and offered it like a petal on a palm. “A little something I made for you.”

“Huh? What... is it?” The lines on the paper were tangled like vines; Wen Quan couldn’t read them and felt a prickle.

“Ara, it’s a token of love.”

Wen Quan’s hand jerked, the yellow Talisman almost flying like a startled butterfly into Nana’s face. Who wants your token of love!

“This already counts as sexual harassment, Classmate Lu.” She held the Talisman, gaze steady as still water. “If you keep this up, I’m calling the police.”

“Ah, then call it harassment.” Nana lifted a shoulder, casual as a summer breeze. “To make amends, why don’t we grab dinner later?” She’d already told her parents she’d be home late—like setting a lantern in advance.

“...” Doesn’t this girl have any sense of restraint? Wen Quan’s temples throbbed, a drum under cloth.

No—if she had that, she wouldn’t be the her I know. Wen looked at the arch of Nana’s brows, sly as a fox stealing grapes, and her breath grew a touch rough, like wind through reeds.

“No, thanks.” She turned her eyes aside, stance neat as a folded umbrella.

“Eh? Then what if you really call the police next time?” Nana’s voice came light, like a pebble across a stream. “I don’t want jail. I wouldn’t get to see you.”

“...” That’s your concern?

“But fine.” Nana sighed theatrically, a fan snapping shut. “If I don’t even dare jail, what’s my love worth? Go ahead and call. I’ll be out in a few days.” By the law, simple harassment means a detention center stay, usually no more than fifteen days.

Zhao, who’d watched the whole show, looked dazed, like a deer in headlights. Are high-school girls this hardcore now?

She suddenly understood why this “Lu Qiqi” clung to Wen—oh. Lesbian?

“...”

“By the way, I finished what I came to do before you brought the milk coffee.” After a bit more chatter, Nana set her spoon down, the cup’s rim shining like a ring. “I’ve got nothing else on. So I can just sit here and watch you work, right?”

“What did you finish?” Wen glanced at the spot Nana had just vacated, the chair still warm like a sun patch. She’d been gone less than five minutes to fetch the drink. Can this girl really be that efficient?

“Just small stuff.” Nana’s smile was a folded secret, tucked like a letter. “You’ll find out later.”

Wen didn’t press. Questions can be fishhooks; sometimes you let them drift.

When Wen was about to clock out, Nana finally rose and trailed after her like a shadow. “Miss Wen!”

“What is it?” Wen looked past Nana at the seat she’d occupied, now empty as a quiet pond. “Not staying?”

“Oh, come on.” Nana nudged closer, shameless as a cat. “I’ve been here this long because I want to walk home with you.” Surely you’re not that dense.

“...” I wish you’d stop sticking to me twenty-four seven, like honey stringing from chopsticks.

“Our routes aren’t the same.” Wen stood outside the cafe in her school uniform, calm as a white crane.

“No problem.” Nana grinned, bright as a streetlamp at dusk. “We can split when we have to. Until then, we walk together. You grow feelings step by step.”

“Then we can say goodbye now.”

“Eh?” The words hit Nana like a splash of cold water. She blinked, lost for a beat.

“Your place is north of this shopping street.” Wen’s tone was smooth as a blade. “Mine’s south. We’re not on the same path the moment we leave the cafe.”

“...” Damn it. Is that how it is? I didn’t even know.

“Well then, see you tomorrow?”

“S-see you tomorrow...”

Nana watched Wen’s back recede, like a willow fading into evening mist, and felt a sudden, pointless burst of frustration.

So annoying. We can’t even walk home together.

Maybe I should check housing prices around her place soon, like studying a map before a journey. Then I wouldn’t need to tail her and worry about getting caught.

System: If you keep this up, people will think you’re a creepy, overzealous stalker.

Doesn’t matter. As long as Wen Quan doesn’t think so, I don’t care. Nana’s resolve sat like a stone in a riverbed.

System: ...I meant Wen Quan.