People in Mygo are emotional firefighters.

Her mind was foggy, a jumble of exhaustion and overwhelming emotions. Her fingertips trembled as she almost instinctively typed: "Um...Ishikawa-kun, are you asleep? I feel a little..."

Halfway through the fight, her remaining rationality and intense shame suddenly returned, and she realized that she had once again lost her composure in front of that strange boy.

She abruptly pressed the undo button, clutching her phone tightly to her chest, as if that would erase the vulnerability she had felt just moments before.

My heart was pounding in my chest, and my cheeks were slightly flushed.

She prayed, knowing that the guy was already asleep and hadn't seen her message.

However, almost within seconds of the message being retracted, the phone screen lit up again.

Why aren't you asleep yet?

Are you still feeling unwell?

Looking at the two straightforward yet concerned questions on the screen, Nagasaki Motoyo's heart felt as if it had been gently struck by something.

She subconsciously tried to adopt her usual thoughtful and composed demeanor, hovering her fingertips above the screen, attempting to type something as casual as, "It's nothing, I just accidentally sent it to the wrong person, I'm going to sleep now."

I typed and deleted, then typed again, pretending to be calm.

In the end, her carefully constructed facade crumbled. She curled up, her fingers weakly typing out a confession that was almost a surrender:

【……Um.】

I just... can't sleep.

I'm so tired, but when I close my eyes, my mind is a jumbled mess...

The message has been marked as read.

However, silence fell on the other side of the screen. One minute, two minutes... time passed in silence, and no new replies appeared in the chat box.

Nagasaki Motoyo stared at the glaring "read" mark, and the grievances and bitterness that had just subsided surged up again, even more intensely than before. It felt as if something was tightly choking her throat.

As expected... it happened again.

Did you get abandoned because people found you annoying?

He asked first...

The chill of despair and loneliness enveloped her once more, heavier than before. Her nose stung, and she almost couldn't hold back her tears. In a fit of pique, she threw her phone screen-down onto the pillow beside her, unwilling to witness that suffocating and awkward silence any longer.

Just as she buried her face in the blankets, preparing to swallow this bitterness alone—

"toot"

A crisp LINE notification sound broke the silence of the bedroom.

Her heart skipped a beat, and almost instinctively, she grabbed her phone again. The screen lit up, and a preview pop-up for a new message appeared:

Ishikawa Mayu: [Voice Message] - 1:15

With a hint of trepidation, she opened the voice message.

There were no comforting words as expected.

Instead, a melodious and soothing violin tune flowed gently from the phone's speaker, slowly spreading throughout the quiet night room.

It was a song she had never heard before.

The melody is gentle, carrying an indescribable loneliness and inclusiveness, like calm waves at night, gently caressing the beach again and again; it is also like a silent but steadfast companionship, quietly dispelling the unsettling silence around us.

The tension that had been building gradually eased with the sudden sound of the piano.

She didn't even realize when she closed her eyes; she was simply immersed in the melody played for her, her breathing gradually becoming long and steady.

The song ended, its lingering notes still echoing.

The phone screen lit up again, displaying two new text messages.

But at this moment, Nagasaki Motoyo could no longer hear. Her consciousness was being gently enveloped and slumbering in the warmth of sleep, and the fingers that had been tightly gripping the corner of the blanket had somehow loosened, with a barely perceptible smile playing on her lips.

This is a piece of music I really like, called "Echoism".

I don't know what you're thinking, but I hope this is helpful.

Ishikawa Mayu looked at the message he had sent, and its status remained "unread".

After waiting for a while, there was still no response from the other end.

Looks like she's asleep...

Well, at least the effort wasn't wasted. At least the piece of music seems to have served its purpose.

Chapter Fifteen Breakfast

5 month 1 day,

Sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting clear patches of light on the floor.

Because of the routine he developed in his previous life, Ishikawa Mayu woke up early.

"Isn't it seven o'clock yet?" He glanced at his phone, calculating in his mind. Classes at Yuqiu Middle School start at 8:45. Although there's a small class meeting before class, it's more than enough time for him.

Since we still have so much time, why don't we go downstairs and check on Su Shi's condition?

After a quick wash, Ishikawa Mayu followed the emergency exit to the 45th floor.

Standing in front of that familiar door, he gently knocked on the door with his finger.

"Nagasaki-kun? Are you awake? How are you feeling?"

A soft footstep came from inside the door.

With a "click," the door was pulled open a crack from the inside, and Nagasaki Motoyo appeared behind it.

She was wearing soft, light-colored pajamas with a knitted cardigan casually draped over her shoulders. Her long, honey-brown hair was loosely draped over her shoulders, and her face still showed signs of sleepiness and fatigue. However, compared to her sickly appearance last night, her complexion was clearly much better; at least the abnormal flush had faded.

Upon seeing that it was Ishikawa Mayu, a barely perceptible glint flashed in Nagasaki Motoyo's eyes. She then subconsciously straightened her back, clasped her hands in front of her, and revealed a smile that was even sweeter than usual.

"Gui'an, Ishikawa..."

"Stop, stop, stop!"

Ishikawa Mayu was startled by the sudden, sharp sound, and goosebumps rose all over her body. In an instant, she recalled a video from her past life of when she was "just turned 18"...

“Speak properly... Your original voice was quite nice, you don’t need to say that.”

"..."

Nagasaki Motoyo's flawless smile froze for a moment. Her good mood after recovering from her illness and her efforts to behave more politely and even in a way that seemed to be a way of repaying him were shattered by his words.

His fingers, clasped together in front of him, tightened slightly, and his fist hardened.

But thinking of the care the other person had given her last night, she took a deep breath, barely suppressing her temper, and regained some of her usual tone, only her voice was a few decibels lower, carrying a hint of barely perceptible sullenness:

"...Oh. Thank you for taking care of me last night."

"Hmm." Ishikawa Mayu finally felt that sounded a bit better. He looked her up and down, paying particular attention to her complexion. "You even have the energy to say 'good morning' now, so you must be almost fully recovered, right?"

He stroked his chin, as if he had suddenly thought of something, and his eyes held a scrutinizing look.

"But speaking of which, according to your aunt, you've been sick for several days now... I only took care of you a little yesterday, gave you some medicine and a meal, and today you're already so well that you can eat with chopsticks... and so energetic that you can go to school?"

His gaze became somewhat suspicious. He leaned closer and asked in a low voice.

"Tell me honestly, you haven't been taking your medicine or eating properly these past few days, and you've just been toughing it out and letting things take their course, have you?"

Nagasaki Motoyo was taken aback by his question, her eyes darting around and instinctively avoiding his gaze. A guilty blush crept onto her cheeks, which had just regained some color.

Her slender fingers unconsciously tightened the cuffs of her pajamas, and her lips moved slightly, but she couldn't immediately utter a sound to refute them.

Seeing her reaction, Ishikawa Mayu couldn't help but let out a soft snort, his voice carrying a hint of knowing "I knew it," as well as a trace of helplessness or annoyance that was hard to define.

"I'll let you off this time, but next time I'll tell Aunt Nagasaki."

Please don't do that!

Nagasaki Motoyo readily admitted her mistake, inwardly lamenting how troublesome this guy was.

To change the subject, she stepped aside to let people in through the doorway, her tone returning to its usual gentleness as she invited, "Um... would you like to come in and sit for a while, Ishikawa-kun? Let me make you a cup of black tea. It's a way of... thanking you for taking care of me yesterday."

Ishikawa Mayu glanced at her, seemingly seeing through her little scheme, but didn't refuse, and stepped into the living room.

His gaze habitually swept over the excessively clean kitchen area, especially the gleaming stove and the empty countertop.

Have you had breakfast?

"...Not yet. I don't have much of an appetite, but I'm thinking of buying a bento box later."

"You should eat something nutritious since your fever has just subsided," Ishikawa Mayu interrupted her, sighing, "Wait."

After saying that, he walked to the refrigerator with great ease, took out eggs and milk, and then found the cabinet where the millet was stored.

"Looks like it's my turn again." He rolled up his sleeves and deftly began rinsing the rice. "The patient should just sit quietly over there and not cause any trouble."

Nagasaki Motoyo stood there, watching that guy once again "occupy" her kitchen with complete ease, and for a moment she was both amused and exasperated.

The slight resentment that had risen in my heart because I had been exposed also strangely dissipated, replaced by a complex emotion.

She opened her mouth, but in the end only whispered, "...Then, thank you for your trouble."

It didn't take long for a simple yet warm and comforting breakfast to be served.

Perfectly cooked millet porridge, tender scrambled eggs, and warm milk.

The two finished their breakfast quietly. Ishikawa Mayu deftly cleared away the dishes and put them in the sink; he clearly didn't intend to do the washing himself anymore.

He glanced at the time, picked up his things, and prepared to leave. As he reached the entryway, he seemed to suddenly remember something, stopped, turned to look at Nagasaki Motoyo who had come to see him off, and asked in a casual tone:

"Do you need me to call a car to take you to school? Tsukimori Girls' Academy, right?" He remembered the badge on her school uniform.

Upon hearing this, Nagasaki Motoyo quickly shook her head, her face showing a "please don't" expression.

"Really, it's not necessary, Ishikawa-kun. There's no need to go to such lengths..."

"Furthermore, in order to avoid traffic congestion during school hours, temporary parking is strictly limited near the school, and students are discouraged from being picked up and dropped off by private cars. I can just take the tram there, it's very convenient."

"Okay. Be careful on your way." He didn't say anything more, and simply turned around and pushed open the security door of the apartment.

Outside the door was a quiet, carpeted hallway. The motion-sensor light turned on as the door opened, casting a cool white glow that contrasted with the warm yellow light inside.

"I'm leaving." With his back to her, he casually waved goodbye and closed the door.

The heavy door closed gently, shutting out the light from the hallway, and the apartment returned to its previous tranquility. Nagasaki Motoyo stood alone in the entryway, listening to the footsteps outside the door gradually fade into the distance, finally disappearing in the direction of the elevator. The faint, warm aroma of millet porridge and the brief, lively atmosphere of just moments before seemed to linger in the air.

She let out a soft sigh, turned around, and prepared to go back to her room to change her clothes, thinking to herself that although this person always acted on his own initiative and spoke in a way that was unpleasant to hear, he had indeed been a great help.

Chapter Sixteen: Ishikawa, you'll suffer; I'll bear the blame.

As Ishikawa Maho entered the classroom at roughly the same time as usual, she cautiously glanced around at her classmates.

The students who were expected to gather around with curious and teasing glances did not appear.

Most people were busy with their own things, chatting with classmates, or copying homework...

It was as if the little commotion during yesterday's lunch break had been forgotten. Only one or two boys gave him a slightly ambiguous "I know, bro" smile when he looked over, but they didn't seem to want to gossip any further.

It seems yesterday's events are over...

He secretly breathed a sigh of relief, partly because he was glad that high school students could shift their interests so quickly, and partly because his "unremarkable" image was so deeply ingrained in people's minds that everyone seemed to assume that there was unlikely to be any lasting entanglement between him and the "transfer student beauty".

His tense shoulders relaxed, and like a fish finally finding familiar waters, he strode quickly to his private corner by the window.

He stuffed his schoolbag into the desk drawer, eager to enjoy this quiet moment.

Is it easier to make videos at school than at home?

However, he clearly let his guard down too soon.

Just as he adjusted his posture and was about to bury his face in his arms, energetic footsteps came from the classroom door.

He subconsciously turned his head and peeked through the gap in his arm, just in time to see Chihaya Aine put her schoolbag away and then walk briskly toward Mai and her friends.

She integrated into the small group so quickly; no wonder she was a former student council president.

He silently commented to himself, too lazy to pay attention, and continued to close his eyes, preparing to clear his mind.

The girls' conversation could be faintly heard from over there; they seemed to be talking about the band.

He heard Mai ask with a regretful tone, "Aine-chan, are you really not going to reconsider? We can practice Afterglow's songs slowly!"