The Fourth Class Is Modern Chinese (Continued)

"You don't need to worry about it. Let me think... Well, have you prepare it next time."

"Next time... Oh, yeah, next time, right? Next time..."

I muttered, "Next time, next time..." like I was talking in my sleep, then suddenly realized something.

"When exactly is one month from now? What date are we supposed to celebrate?"

I was completely lost... Could I Google it? Or would it be faster to search anniversary-related tags on Instagram? Though I had a feeling I'd find posts treating every single day as some special Salad Anniversary.

As I agonized over it, Yukino looked a little troubled too.

"I don't know... I think any time would be fine... But if we're celebrating, how about the one-year anniversary? It would be easier to remember."

"One year..."

Hey, hey, hey, I couldn't imagine that at all. Even hearing it said aloud, it didn't feel real.

By then, we'd have graduated from high school and should be living entirely new lives, yet my mind was completely blank. More importantly, I should have gotten into college by then, right? If I failed my entrance exams, my future self would probably come back and kill my present self.

The future was too far away for me to say anything. Yukino seemed to take my silence as confusion or rejection and hurriedly added:

"Is that... too short? Then... a ten-year anniversary."

"Ten..."

I started stammering at the exact moment Yukino did.

Uh, ten years... That was the kind of major contract even pro baseball players rarely signed.

As she spoke, Yukino probably realized she'd thought too far ahead and immediately changed her tune.

"Really, any time is fine... Don't worry about it..."

Then she covered her rapidly reddening cheeks, peering through her fingers with tearful eyes.

The moment our eyes