Wait—that voice… it’s Xuewei’s.

So the one I just hit was…

A chill crawled over me, like winter water soaking into bone.

“Uh… Xuewei, wait, let me explain!”

As I edged for the door, a slender, pale arm caught my right hand.

The ice pop slipped and fell, like a bead of frost dropping from a branch.

The girl ignored the blue‑haired little one’s cry.

She pulled hard and drew me onto the bed, like a net hauling in a silver fish.

Xuewei rolled and pressed me down, storm shadow covering a small fawn.

“Xuewei, I didn’t mean it…”

She didn’t answer. She just stared, eyes still as a pond holding the moon.

She looked tired; faint shadows pooled under her eyes, like ink washed thin.

My earlier flurry of blows left no marks, which only deepened my guilt, like ash settling after a fire.

The old Xuewei would have faked a bruise to make trouble.

Now she hadn’t—meaning she was truly angry, like silent frost biting at dawn.

I curled on the bed, shaking, like a child awaiting a switch.

“I thought there was a thief…”

“So in your heart, I’m no better than a thief?”

Her eyes flushed red; bright tears slipped out, like dew on new leaves.

“I didn’t mean that, I…”

Seeing her like this, a knot swelled in my chest; tears pressed up, like rain crowding a low sky.

Xuewei didn’t let me explain; she shut my mouth with force, like a hand clamping a bell.

“Mm—!” Sound collapsed in my throat, like a finch pinned under heavy snow.

She was clumsy yet ruthless, passion unmoored, like a river in flood ignoring its banks.

She didn’t care about feelings; she only pressed on, chasing answers without end, like a hound driven by scent.

“Mm—mm!” Breath thinned to threads; stars pricked at the edge of my sight, like frost blooming on glass.

My gentle pushes were feathers against stone; they only stoked her storm, like wind feeding wildfire.

She didn’t stop; even her hands grew rough, until darkness pooled and the girl in her arms went limp, like a candle snuffed.

When I woke, aches pooled in every limb, like tidewater settling in old rocks.

My mouth tingled; my voice rasped, like a reed flute cracked by cold.

What happened to me…?

“My head hurts…” I held my temples and sat up, slow as dawn climbing a ridge.

“Strange… why am I in bed?”

“Right! I think I hit Xuewei, and then…”

Heat crept into my cheeks, like coals under paper.

I realized something troubling about her… and couldn’t bring myself to name it, like a thorn under silk.

“She even laid hands on someone like me… No, I have to stop her!”

“If she keeps crossing lines, what then?”

“Good thing it was me this time; with anyone else, she’d be locked up.”

“I have to teach her, properly.”

“Teach who?”

Xuewei stood in the doorway with a stiff face and stepped inside, like frost walking over tiles.

“About those hits you landed earlier—shouldn’t we settle that now?”

“Eh? Did I hit Teacher just now? I forgot…”

Eh‑heh~

“It’s fine if you forget; I remember.”

Xuewei smiled at me, spring light over ice.

“I’m hungry.”

“I choose to cook right now!”

Suddenly my waist stopped aching and my legs found wind; I sprinted to the kitchen, like a swallow diving.

Xuewei watched the little blue‑haired girl regain her spark, eyes soft as warm lanterns.

Then her gaze hardened, like a blade cooling to steel.

If she’d wanted to expose me before, that impulse cooled.

Since I chose silence, she saw no need to tear the veil.

She could use this season to ask more and more, like a vine winding tighter, until… I admitted who I was.

By then, what reason would I have to refuse her?

It was close to midnight; dinner felt wrong, like a heavy coat in spring rain.

A late‑night bite would do.

Stirred noodles are quick; soup noodles take fuss, like clouds that demand a long boil.

Either way, toppings matter most.

We had sauces I’d prepped and ham at home.

A chilled meat plate with stirred noodles would make a fine midnight treat, like stars beside the moon.

Xuewei liked spicy, same as me, so I sprinkled a little fire, like chili dust drifting on snow.

Ten minutes later, a bowl of sour‑and‑spicy ham noodles came up, scallions scattered like green confetti.

“Ta‑da~ Teacher Xuewei, hungry? Come taste!”

Xuewei didn’t fuss; she took up the chopsticks and lifted a slice of cold ham, dipped it in sauce, and tried it, like a carp testing spring water.

“Not bad. You even remembered I like it hot.”

The praise made me float, like a kite on a good wind.

“Of course! How could I forget something like that?”

Heh. You remember that, and forget other things…

“You’re hungry too, right? Eat with me.”

Now that she said it, my stomach chimed, like a drum under silk.

“Ah? But it’s only one portion… Teacher, you eat first. If there’s any left, give me some.”

“Then I’ll eat till I’m full, and you can have the rest.”

She wiped her mouth with a tissue and started to rise, like a cat stretching to leave.

“Wait—no! L‑let’s share!”

Xuewei glanced at me with a sly smile, like moonlight hiding a fox.

“I’ll grab another pair of chopsticks…”

“No need. One pair is plenty.”

“Eh—eh—eh?!” Σ( ° △ °|||)︴