Chapter 95: So, Eriri Hated Himekoji… Absolutely, Positively, Forever!

…

Someone had cried right at the doorway.

Himekoji looked down at the ground.

Besides the traces left by tears, surprisingly, there was also a small, startling blotch of red…

B-Blood?

Himekoji shook his head, suddenly feeling unsettled.

His legs lifted mechanically. Down the stairs he went. Then, his steps grew faster and faster.

He rushed out of the building.

In the pitch-black night, the pair of golden, artistic-quality locks, practically her signature trademark, let Himekoji spot the girl instantly.

Eriri leaned against her bicycle’s handlebars, standing motionless by the side door.

Their eyes met for the briefest instant.

Then they looked away.

…

Was the blood Eriri’s?

So, where was she hurt?

His gaze instinctively wandered over the girl’s body. Finally, it landed on her bare feet.

No shoes?

On the delicate, almost see-through skin of her pale instep, small scratches from stones were faintly visible. The bleeding part, though, must be her narrow, small sole…

…

Eriri bit down hard on her lip. Her eyes felt so sore.

She had knocked for so long at his door, called out for so long, and not a sound had come from Himekoji inside. Yet, the moment she turned away, immediately after she left, Himekoji emerged from Kasumigaoka’s place.

“Hi–”

She had barely started speaking, but Himekoji was already turning and running away.

So, the words she had left went unsaid. Instead, a loud “Wah!” burst out, turning into full-blown sobs.

She just wanted to cry—wanted to cry, wanted to cry, couldn’t hold it, couldn’t choke it down, couldn’t stop the tears even if she tried.

Tears scalded her skin as they rolled down, unstoppable, continuously splashing onto the ground.

Her vision blurred, cleared, blurred, cleared again. A warm, aching sensation spread chaotically down from the back of her hand to her wrist, endlessly radiating outwards.

She wiped her face roughly with the back of her hand, scrubbing her delicate little nose bright red.

With both hands rubbing madly over her face, her bicycle, left unsupported, crashed to the ground with a “Crash!”

Eriri cried even harder.

…

Rushing to the nearest pharmacy for bandages and ointment, practically flying back up the street in his panic, Himekoji saw this scene and froze on the spot.

He had never seen the girl cry like this—a crying mess, sobbing as if the world were ending.

Something inside his chest suddenly felt hollow, completely empty; if you knocked on it, it would just give a hollow echo.

…

The absolute worst.

He cursed himself.

…

Himekoji walked up to her. His voice sounded hoarse when he spoke—

“Stop crying. I’m sorry.”

He said this as he crouched down, examining the wounds on Eriri’s feet.

“You… you… you ran off! So why’d you come back?”

Eriri, still crying so hard she was struggling for breath, jumped at the sudden sound of Himekoji’s voice.

“I… I wasn’t crying!”

That was her first reaction, without fail. Sniffing, she denied it.

“Yeah. Yeah.”

Himekoji nodded agreeably. He paused, then said softly,

“Sit down for a bit. I’ll treat your wounds.”

Saying this, Himekoji took off his own jacket and spread it on the ground.

Eriri was dressed lightly; it was nighttime now, and sitting directly on the ground like this would probably be cold.

“Y-you… you hold on a second!”

Her words broken by intermittent sobs, Eriri suddenly called out to him.

“What is it?”

Himekoji, who was preparing the bandages and ointment, looked up.

“You… come a little closer…”

Her tear-streaked face was making an intense effort to pull off an angry expression, a little fang peeking out.

It wasn’t scary at all, though.

Only at times like this was Himekoji utterly obliging towards Eriri like this.

He leaned in slightly.

Immediately, the girl stretched her neck forward. Her little nose twitched and sniffed as she moved: over his hair, his neck, his collar, his chest, his waist, and even further down…

Hold on, any lower and it’d be the restricted area!

Himekoji quickly pushed her restless little face away.

Eriri didn’t seem to mind his rough handling at all. Instead, she brightened up almost immediately, a bit of her spark returning.

“There’s none of that… that shameless woman’s smell on you…”

She could actually sniff that out? Are you a bloodhound?

Normally, this was exactly when Himekoji would have muttered that inside his head. This time, though, he stayed silent.

He took Eriri’s small foot in his hand. The first thing he felt was the coldness. Only afterwards did he notice how incredibly soft, smooth, and delicate it was.

The girl’s perfectly proportioned little foot, slender and fair as ten new scallions. The tips of her toes trembled slightly when he first took hold.

Gently applying the ointment, Himekoji couldn’t help but speak up. There was a touch of tender reproach in his voice:

“Why didn’t you wear any shoes?”

“Shoes? Huh?” Eriri seemed to jolt awake only just then, letting out a startled yell. “Where are my shoes?!”

“I clearly wore slippers out!”

“From now on, you’re not allowed to ride a bike in slippers.”

Himekoji knocked Eriri’s head lightly with his hand, annoyed.

“Hmm.”

Without noticing when, Eriri had stopped sobbing. Only two wet tear trails remained on her face, making her look pitiful.

The girl nodded slightly and responded.

Her soft and weak appearance was opposite to her usual stubborn nature.

As soon as those words fell, Eriri suddenly realized something was wrong.

“It’s all because of you! You… what was that photo about? And why did you go to Kasumigaoka’s home?”

He had clearly decided to let her misunderstand to the end and be done with it. But Himekoji sadly realized that right now, he couldn’t do it no matter what.

…

Even if he couldn’t make the girl laugh, at least… he shouldn’t make her cry.

Himekoji carefully held the girl’s cold, injured foot in his hands. He hoped to use the warmth of his palm to drive away its chill.

“The photo was one I promised to my book friends long ago; I said I’d post a bath photo if average orders broke six thousand. I took it and stored it on my phone, but Kasumigaoka found it.”

“I went to her home because I needed to get the outline for Sonoko-nee. I was afraid you’d misunderstand, so I hid and didn’t come out earlier.”

Himekoji lied once again.

“Afraid… afraid I’d misunderstand? Afraid I’d misunderstand what? Do you really… care so much about me misunderstanding? But… I’m not anyone to you…”

The girl was easy to fool.

Her voice grew softer and faded into the night wind.

The moon was bright, and the stars were sparse; dark currents at the edge of the sky slowly became clear under the streetlight.

…

“Akito, my foot is still cold.”

Even though Himekoji was holding it in his palms.

“Oh, oh… what about like this?”

Himekoji placed the girl’s bandaged, snow-white foot into his embrace.

“Hmm, hmm, much better…”

…

Finally—

Himekoji slowly picked up the bicycle that had fallen by the road. He turned back and said softly and lightly:

“Get on; I’ll take you home.”

This scene felt familiar.

After school, in a crowded, noisy stream of people, the boy holding the bicycle turned back and asked her, “Hey, want to go home together?”

So it seemed,

The gentleness in endlessly long times.

And the long times within endless gentleness.

Had always been there.

Eriri froze on the spot.

…

“Oh, right, I think it’s against the rules to carry a passenger on a bicycle backseat. So let’s forget it.”

“You… you!”

Give me back that touching feeling!

Dragging oversized shoes, Eriri rushed forward and chased the barefoot Himekoji around wildly.

“Careful, careful! Your foot’s injury!”

“If you just let me hit you a bit, any injury would be fine!”

When she hit him, she couldn’t bring herself to do it too hard.

It seemed as if she had already forgotten that just before, she had cried hard because of that jerk.

So really—

Eriri hated Himekoji the most, most, most!