My deskmate is actually my yandere reader.

Shiraishi Chiren murmured those words, then suddenly laughed.

Is Kurose Izumi good?

how can that be possible.

'Izumi, nobody understands you. You're hiding your true feelings, aren't you...'

At this moment, Shiraishi Chiren desperately wanted to see Kurose Izumi and ask him how he was doing—but that was all she wanted to do.

She has lost the right to do so.

Going to see Kurose Izumi now would only embarrass him.

121. The distance between them is forever.

9:30 a.m., in Pyeongtaek Prefecture.

The warm sunlight streamed in through the slightly open window, illuminating Izumi Kurose, who lay exhausted on the bed.

As if stung by the light, he frowned, turned over, and buried his head in the blanket.

A few minutes later, Izumi Kurose regained consciousness and slowly opened her eyes.

He poked his head out from under the covers, squinted to adjust to the light streaming in from the window, and his thoughts gradually cleared.

The torment of tossing and turning last night is slowly coming back to me.

Kurose Izumi sighed and muttered to herself, "I really wish this was all just a dream..."

He got out of bed, took out the casual clothes he had prepared from the closet and changed into them, then opened the bedroom door to go wash up.

slam-la-

After the door was opened, Izumi Kurose saw a woman dressed in a kimono and wooden clogs standing quietly in the doorway, seemingly waiting for something.

"Good morning, young master," the woman said first, offering her greeting.

"Good morning," Kurose Izumi nodded slightly in return.

Then he asked, "Excuse me, where is the washroom?"

"Please let me take you there; this is also the young master's order."

"Then trouble you."

Led by Fengzi, Kurose Izumi washed up and was then taken to the main room for breakfast.

Fengzi stood to the side and asked, "Young Master, do you want to go to school later, or do you have some other plans?"

Kurose Izumi took a bite of breakfast, remained silent for a while, and then said, "...I'll stay here for now. I don't feel like going to school today."

“I understand.” Feng Zi nodded gently. “Please feel free to tell me if you need anything before the young master returns.”

"Okay, then I'll trouble you."

After saying that, Kurose Izumi quietly ate her breakfast, and Fengzi didn't say anything more.

He knew Hirasawa Fengzi; he had met her several times.

She was the one who received me when I visited here before and went to play with Hirasawa Shinbu.

When they first met, Izumi Kurose thought that Hirasawa was pregnant, which was a misunderstanding.

There's no way around it; being pregnant makes one look elegant and has the air of a noblewoman.

Well, the reality is that she was only 27 years old when she got pregnant, and she was not married or had any romantic experience.

She was adopted by Hirasawa's parents at a young age, and her abilities were outstanding, so she became a member of the royal family.

—This is what I learned from Hirasawa Shinbu.

At that time, Hirasawa Shinbu even teased Kurose Izumi, saying that since he liked older women, perhaps he could consider getting pregnant.

In that case, they would truly become brothers!

Unfortunately, it's true that Izumi Kurose likes older, unattainable women, but that doesn't mean she likes driving big cars!

After breakfast, Kurose Izumi returned to her room, picked out a book from the bookshelf, and sat on a Japanese-style rocking chair in the courtyard.

He lowered his head slightly, his hand stroking the page foot that was being blown about by the wind, his mind calm.

Feng Zi stood quietly to the side.

To outsiders, this scene might resemble that of a melancholy nobleman and his female attendant.

Since yesterday, Izumi Kurose has changed from giving off a gloomy vibe to one of melancholy.

Although she didn't break up with Shiraishi Chiren, this can be considered a breakup, right?

It's normal for people to become depressed after a breakup.

All day long, Kurose Izumi didn't go anywhere. She sat by the courtyard reading a book, and occasionally, when she got tired of reading, she would take a walk in the courtyard.

The courtyard of Pyeongtaek Prefecture alone is as big as half a football field, and the flowers, plants and trees inside are all carefully trimmed!

In the afternoon, Hirasawa Mabu returned home and glanced at Kurose Izumi sitting by the courtyard, gazing at the setting sun in the distance. His feelings were somewhat complicated.

"Ugh……"

He sighed softly, withdrew his gaze, and went back to the main room to change, without disturbing Kurose Izumi.

As evening approached, the two sat down for dinner, but they didn't talk much during the meal.

The current Izumi Kurose is completely different from before.

He became more withdrawn and preoccupied, and gave off a lingering sense of melancholy.

Hirasawa Shinbu remained silent – ​​he couldn't offer any help.

Kurose Izumi's feelings are based entirely on his own thoughts.

As an outsider, Hirasawa Shinbu really shouldn't be making any comments.

All he could do was provide Kurose Izumi with accommodation, help her apply for leave from school, and handle some trivial matters.

After dinner, Kurose Izumi packed her clothes and headed to the bathhouse.

But just as he turned around, his phone on the table suddenly vibrated and emitted several notification sounds.

—It's by Shiraishi Chirei.

Kurose Izumi had this inexplicable intuition.

He hesitated for a moment, but ultimately picked up his phone and went into the bath.

Soaking in the murky white bath, Kurose Izumi unlocked her phone screen and looked at the message sent by Shiraishi Chiren.

The message was short, just a simple greeting: "Good evening."

Kurose Izumi's feelings suddenly became complicated as she looked at the message.

She's always like that.

A single gesture was enough to captivate Izumi Kurose's heart and make him start to overthink.

Kurose Izumi did not reply; she simply stared at the message.

After watching for a minute, my phone started vibrating again.

"Izumi, what are you doing right now?"

"Is it inconvenient for you to reply to me?"

"It's okay, you go ahead and do your work. I'll wait for you until you reply."

On the screen, three messages were marked as read, but Izumi Kurose had yet to reply.

"Qianlian, are you coercing me...?"

After a long while, Kurose Izumi put down her phone, closed her eyes, and murmured softly.

The way he sent the message made him realize that Shiraishi Chiren was actually Kuchiki Touko!

Extreme concern leads to a twisted, obsessive mindset.

Kurose Izumi was certain that if he didn't return, Shiraishi Chiren would wait even for one night!

But how could he not want to go back?

But what's the point of replying?

Why waste time exchanging meaningless pleasantries with Shiraishi Chiren, only to find it unpleasant to avoid each other?

Isn't it ridiculous to deceive yourself like this?

Kurose Izumi cannot face Shiraishi Chire without any reservations.

Especially the night that Fuyuko Kuchiki asked him to meet her in Bunkyo Ward.

That night, Izumi Kurose was the one who found it hardest to let go.

He had no idea how Shiraishi Chiren, disguised as Kuchiki Touko, could feign concern for him, get angry at him, and then confess her feelings to him.

It's simply—so hypocritical, so disgusting.

This is also the fundamental reason why Kurose Izumi cannot believe the love that Shiraishi Chire spoke of.

If it's just imprisonment or coercion to change the ending, Izumi Kurose can forgive it.

But he couldn't bear the thought of his feelings being toyed with and trampled on!

Wasn't everything arranged by Shiraishi Chiren?

Whether it's imprisonment, rescue, improved relationship, or the series of events that followed...

Everything was simply pre-arranged.

He had been kept in the dark all along, foolishly indulging in wishful thinking.

'How could someone like me, so outstanding and dazzling, possibly be liked by Qian Lian?'

Kurose Izumi gave a bitter laugh, silently mocking herself in her heart.

Before long, the world before his eyes began to blur, and tears welled up silently again.