Baiyu stood behind the door, peeking at me timidly. "Liar," she called out softly. "You don’t know Sensei Chidori at all."

"No one knows that guy better than I do!"

And that was absolutely true. The person who understands you best isn’t your parents or your closest friend—it’s yourself.

She pushed the door open, hands hidden behind her back. Head bowed at the threshold, she avoided my gaze. "This doujinshi... the club president gave it to me yesterday. But I really didn’t know it was *that* kind of thing!"

"It’s not like I’m worried about you! I just didn’t want you getting the wrong idea. Girls having stuff like this... it’s weird, right?"

Having such things wasn’t actually strange. I even knew a girl who drew this stuff... *she* was the truly weird one.

She pulled the doujinshi from behind her back and held it out. "Here. You keep it."

"That’s my good girl."

"Don’t pat my head!"

She shook her head, dislodging my hand from her hair. Face flushed, she stammered, "B-But you can’t look at it yourself! This stuff... it’s too awful."

I didn’t take the book. Instead, I asked, "Can you promise me you won’t read it either?"

"Of course not! I hate this kind of thing."

Her answer came without hesitation. *Good kid. Good kid...*

"Then keep it yourself," I said.

"Huh? What?"

"You were worried I’d peek, right? Just hold onto it. You promised you wouldn’t read it anyway. Return it to the president next time you see her."

"R-Right..."

Baiyu slowly took the doujinshi back. She had this habit—when flustered or embarrassed, she’d fidget with her hair strands, eyes darting away.

"Get some sleep. It’s late."

"Mm."

I yawned, waved goodbye, and headed to my room.

...

Monday morning. After a sleepless night, I kept yawning through breakfast. Baiyu still hadn’t gotten up—she’d clearly tossed and turned too. With classes starting soon, I knocked repeatedly on her door. She had a terrible case of bedhead, refusing to budge.

"If you don’t get up now, I’m coming in!" I warned from the hallway. I had a spare key to her room—all our house keys had spares tucked under the coffee table. Baiyu knew that.

"No! You absolutely cannot come in! I’m up already!"

At breakfast, Baiyu looked half-asleep, eyes heavy. She nibbled a few slices of toast, then grabbed her backpack and left. Her school was the junior high affiliated with my high school—same campus, but she’d never walk with me. I’d offered to pick her up after class once, but she refused: "What if my classmates think we’re dating?"

I cleared the dishes and rushed out. Woke up too late—washing could wait till after school.

Stepping outside, I froze. Perched on my garden wall was a cat-like girl, carefully crawling along the edge.

"Xia Xi? What are you doing?"

"Whoa!"

My voice startled her. She nearly tumbled off, then twisted around with her backside facing me. "Don’t sneak up on people like that! I could’ve fallen!"

The wall separated my yard from hers.

"You still haven’t answered me. What’s this about? Don’t you have school?"

"Shh!"

She pressed a finger to her lips, eyes wide.

From next door came Auntie’s frustrated voice: "Where did that girl run off to now? Skipping school again? Honestly... Her sister even asked me to look after her."

Uncle’s calmer reply followed: "Let it go. Xia Xi’s got a job that supports her. School isn’t everything."

"At her age, she *should* be studying!"

"Come on, we’ll be late for work."

Xia Xi mouthed silently at me: *Catch me.*

"What?"

Before I could react, she leaped from the two-meter-high wall. I lunged forward, arms outstretched. My body dipped under her weight—I nearly fell. Only her small frame saved me.

She giggled in my arms. "Not bad reflexes," she whispered.

The neighbor’s gate clicked shut. Footsteps faded.

Xia Xi slipped down only when silence settled. She peeked cautiously from my gate, confirming her aunt and uncle were gone, then sighed in relief.

"Thanks! I’m heading back."

"Hey—you haven’t been skipping school, have you?"

"School’s boring. A lady like me doesn’t need it."

She stuck out her tongue, then skipped back to her house.

I sighed. *What a weirdo.*

Crap—I’d wasted too much time! School was going to start without me.

I sprinted toward Qingteng High.

Qingteng stood in S City’s south district. Though in the same borough as my home, my neighborhood was practically suburban while the school hugged downtown. One of S City’s top high schools, Qingteng boasted sky-high university acceptance rates. Every year, dozens of students entered China’s elite institutions—Tsinghua, Peking University, you name it.

My grades were average now, but only because I juggled work and home duties. Back in junior high, I’d paused my job for one intense year of studying. That’s how I’d gotten into Qingteng.

Still, I wouldn’t attend university. It was the path most Chinese students took, but not mine.

Truth was, if I left for college, who’d take care of Baiyu? Even a local S City university wouldn’t work. After graduation, I planned to write full-time.