Ring, ring—
The lunch bell rang.
Yuki Kurokawa had already packed her textbooks into her bag in advance.
Today, she had gone out of her way to bring a box of her homemade cookies in addition to her bento. They were packed in a light blue bag, the ribbon tied much more neatly than last time.
She carefully placed the bag of cookies into the outer pocket of her schoolbag, taking an extra look as she zipped it up to make sure the ribbon didn't get caught.
When Qiluo said something was “delicious,” her eyes would narrow slightly, as if she had eaten something that exceeded her expectations.
She wanted to make Qiluo show that expression again—ideally, when it was just the two of them.
Students were already gathering in small groups in the hallway. As she walked through the crowd, she habitually kept her head down and quickened her pace.
She was thinking about how to tell Qiluo that she had brought cookies today. Would it be better to say, “Since you said they were delicious last time, I baked some more,” or “I happened to bake too many, so I brought a box along”?
The latter seemed too forced, but would the former make it look like she cared too much about what Qiluo said?
She did care, she just didn't want to make it too obvious.
The back door of Class A's classroom was just ahead. She took a deep breath and looked inside.
She froze, greeted by a sight that made her heart skip a beat.
In the second-to-last row by the window, Qiluo was leaning on her desk, her head turned as she spoke to the person next to her.
Her arm was casually draped over the edge of the desk, her expression completely relaxed.
And the flaxen-haired girl next to her was leaning in very close—so close that their shoulders were almost touching.
There was also a bag of cookies sitting on the desk.
Cookies.
Those were cookies someone else had given to Qiluo.
Yuki had always thought that giving cookies was a silent understanding unique to the two of them.
Now, someone else was doing the exact same thing.
That girl had a beautiful smile, her teeth were perfectly straight, and her hair had a soft glow in the sunlight—unlike her.
She couldn't smile so naturally, nor could she hit it off so well with someone on their very first meeting.
She wanted to turn around and leave, but her feet felt glued to the spot.
Yuki stood frozen, her hands tightening unconsciously.
It wasn't that she minded Qiluo making other friends.
She just hadn't realized that when that seat was empty, every time she came to find Qiluo, Qiluo would clear the chair next to her for Yuki to sit in.
Now that the seat was occupied, her place was gone.
Watching Qiluo turn her head to say something to the transfer student, the light-flaxen-haired girl giggled, covering her mouth with the back of her hand as her shoulders shook gently.
The smile didn't last long, but at that moment, Yuki felt a sharp, gentle pang in her chest.
Silently, she pulled the bag of cookies out of her schoolbag.
...
Kizuna was leaning over her desk, writing a diary entry for her first day of school.
With her notebook spread open, she used a highlighter to trace the title. When she wrote the word “deskmate,” she looked up at Qiluo, smiled, and then lowered her head to keep writing.
“Tian Gong-san, where is the school cafeteria? I saw someone walking by in the hallway with a plate of curry just now, and it smelled amazing.”
“Turn right after you leave the school building, and it's right past the gymnasium. But it gets crowded during lunch, so if you go late, you'll have to wait in a long line.”
Qiluo packed her textbooks into her desk drawer and was about to stand up.
Kizuna beat her to it, pulling a bento box out of her schoolbag and placing it on the desk.
“I brought a bento today. My sister made it. She got up at five in the morning to fry chicken, filling the whole kitchen with greasy smoke, and she still ended up slightly burning the rolled omelet.”
She opened the lid, revealing the neatly arranged side dishes inside.
There were indeed a few charred spots, but they had been turned into a smiley face with ketchup, making them barely noticeable unless one looked closely.
“What about you, Tian Gong-san? Did you bring a bento too?”
“I—”
Qiluo was about to say she was going to the cafeteria, or maybe sneak out to the convenience store during lunch to grab a bun to munch on.
Because the convenience store had closed for restructuring, Qiluo couldn't buy any discount bento.
And she was too lazy to wake up early and make one herself.
But before she could speak, her peripheral vision caught a figure at the door.
Yuki Kurokawa stood at the back door of Class A, holding two bento boxes—one was her own white one, and the other was a simple, solid black one.
In her other hand, she clutched a small, individually wrapped bag.
On her way over, she had probably been wondering where she and Qiluo would eat today—whether on a bench in the courtyard or on the rooftop.
For the past few days, their lunch breaks had always been like this. Yuki would text her in advance, and then they would meet at their usual spot. Sometimes Yuki would bring cookies, sometimes homemade sandwiches, and the two of them would sit quietly under the shade of the trees to finish their meal.
But today, she hadn't had the chance to text because she wanted to come directly to the classroom door to wait for her.
Following Qiluo's gaze, Kizuna turned her head and saw a girl with deep black hair and a cool, aloof aura standing at the door.
She blinked and pointed toward the door with her chopsticks. “Tian Gong-san, is that your friend?”
“...Yes,” Qiluo said, standing up and walking toward the door.
It seemed...
I, Qiluo, am completely doomed.
Seeing Qiluo approach, Yuki held out the black bento box in her hand.
“...Your bento. I made fried chicken today, and my sister told me to bring extra.”
She paused, her gaze drifting past Qiluo's shoulder to land on Kizuna. “Do you have a friend over today?”
“Her name is Kizuna Asana. She just transferred here today.” Qiluo took the bento box and stepped aside to clear her line of sight.
“Asana-san, this is Yuki Kurokawa.”
“Hello!” Kizuna waved her chopsticks at Yuki, offering a very warm smile.
Yuki didn't return the smile.
She stared at Kizuna for a moment, taking in every detail of her features, hair color, and the bag of cookies on the desk.
The bag didn't contain the store-bought kind from a convenience store; they were hand-baked, with slightly uneven browning around the edges and an irregular distribution of chocolate chips.
They weren't baked by Qiluo.
So, this newcomer had baked cookies herself and given them to her deskmate on her very first day of school.
Giving cookies on the very first day... What on earth is this girl trying to do?
“...Hello.”
Yuki's tone returned to the formal way she usually greeted strangers.
She didn't introduce herself, since Qiluo had just done it for her.
Kizuna's hand, still holding her chopsticks, froze in midair.
Though she occasionally had some wild thoughts, her intuition was far from dull.
The girl named Yuki Kurokawa across from her had been standing near her seat since she walked in, and the bento box in her hand was clearly meant for Tian Gong-san.
On her very first day after transferring, she had ended up as the outsider sitting next to the person Yuki usually waited for.
Kurokawa-san is probably unhappy.
She pulled back her chopsticks and nudged her bento box toward her side of the desk, clearing more space.
“Kurokawa-san, would you like to sit down and join us? I can move over a bit. If there are three of us—”
“No, thank you.” Yuki gently placed the small, individually wrapped bag onto Qiluo's desk.
But her fingers lingered on the bag for an extra beat before she pulled them back.
“Qiluo, I baked these yesterday.”
Qiluo noticed that she had said “Qiluo,” not “Tian Gong-san.”
In front of people she wasn't close with, Yuki usually used “Tian Gong-san” to maintain distance.
Yet now, she had called her by her first name right in front of Kizuna, as if drawing some invisible boundary line.
Yuki Kurokawa turned around, preparing to walk back to the door.
Qiluo reached out and grabbed her wrist.
“Yuki, I haven't eaten lunch yet, and you brought a two-person portion of bento, right?”
“...Yes, but Asana-san—”
Qiluo glanced sideways at Kizuna, who immediately held up her bento lid, showing off the rolled omelet with the ketchup smiley face.
“I have my own bento! Don't mind me!”
Qiluo turned her gaze back to Yuki.
“So your bento is still mine. Besides, if you don't open that bag of cookies soon, the chocolate inside is going to melt. Sit next to me.”
She let go and pulled out an empty chair from nearby, its legs scraping lightly against the floor.
Qiluo had to hold onto her today. If she let her leave like this, Yuki would spend the entire afternoon replaying this scene in her head, twisting every detail into evidence that “Qiluo doesn't need me anymore.”
She couldn't let her go home with that kind of misunderstanding.
Since Yuki had used the name “Qiluo” in front of Kizuna, Qiluo should respond in the exact same manner.
By calling her by her first name, right in front of Kizuna.
This wasn't about giving Kizuna the cold shoulder, but about putting Yuki's mind at ease.
See? You call me by my name, and I call you by yours. Our relationship won't change because of anyone else.
By having both of them stay, this would just be a normal lunch break.
Yuki stood there, her eyes dargeting quickly between the empty chair and Kizuna.
She saw Kizuna proactively nudge her bento box over to clear space on Qiluo's desk.
And she saw Qiluo push the textbooks on her desk aside, placing Yuki's cookie bag right in the center.
She sat down on the chair, placed the bento in front of Qiluo, and opened her own bento, using her chopsticks to transfer a few pieces of fried chicken into Qiluo's box.
“My sister fried them. She made way too much this morning and told me to let you try some too.”
Rate on N.U.
