Classroom of the Elite, I Have a Life Simulator 16

Karuizawa Kei quickly rummaged through the cabinet and found the remote. The next second, the quiet hospital room was filled with the broadcast tone of the evening news. You had no intention of listening; your purpose in turning on the TV was simply to add some background noise to an environment so quiet it threatened to lull you back to sleep. Karuizawa Kei, however, listened to the news with great interest, holding an apple she had produced from somewhere, clumsily peeling it with a fruit knife.

Amidst the rustling sounds, the uneven apple peel began to fall in circles. Just as the snow-white flesh was about to be fully revealed, you heard a burst of hurried footsteps in the hallway. Immediately after, the door to the hospital room was shoved open violently.

The girl's long, gold-pink hair—praised and admired by so many—was now plastered against her forehead in a disheveled, pathetic mess. Her right shoulder was soaked through, and the patch of white shirt turned a jarring, earthy yellow by the rain stabbed at your eyes. Matching her upper body, her pant legs below the calves were roughly rolled up, and her feet in sandals looked as if they had been soaking in water for a long time; her once plump and translucent toes were wrinkled, and there was even a bit of rainwater clinging to her arches.

You suddenly recalled a line Sakamoto Yuji wrote in Quartet:

The first step to seduction is to abandon your humanity.

Basically, there are three patterns.

Become a cat, become a tiger, become a dog caught in the rain.

The large umbrella she clutched was still dripping. Drop by drop, the rainwater rolled off the canopy. The handle of that umbrella was engraved with I&K, the initials of your and Ichinose Honami's names in romanized script. It was a gift you had given her previously. If she was still soaked despite holding an umbrella large enough to cover two people with ease, she must have run all the way here.

Ichinose Honami looked up.

The evening news on the TV screen was still broadcasting, and the anchor was speaking with a smile:

"According to relevant weather forecasts, this year's fireworks festival may be moved up to the 22nd of this month, which is four days from now. We hope all citizens can enjoy this grand annual celebration."

[Plot CG Triggered: Fireworks Fade Cold]
[Fireworks Fade Cold: Fireworks fade cold, people drift apart, hearts are easily broken.]
[Would you like to read this plot CG? (This may be helpful for your subsequent game progress)]

Chapter 17: Fireworks Fade Cold (Part 1)

You often think back to that late autumn day in the park, when you and he buried the cat named Hotaru together. This pure white, fluffy creature had accompanied you for eight years. You and he grew from childhood toward maturity, while it walked from the beginning of its life to the end.

While digging the hole with a shovel, you noticed you had no desire to cry. You blinked, and it remained so dry that it was hard to imagine you had just lost a pet cat you'd raised for eight years.

It was only when you saw him crying his eyes out, his snot and tears mixing together on his face, that you began to feel a pang of heartache. You had never seen Kitagawa Ryo like this before; at such close range, his dark eyes were brimming with crystalline liquid.

His emotions seemed to refract through those tears, transmitting clearly into your heart.

"The reason I refused is because I have someone I like. Her name is Ichinose Honami."

"The person I like is Ichinose Honami."

Then, he confessed to you.

Even though you had long since decided on a refusal, at that moment, you were genuinely considering a relationship, considering a lover, and even imagining a future wedding dress and a bouquet of fresh flowers. You felt as if you could see yourself walking down a long red carpet, with him in a suit and tie waiting at the end of the path.

But it only lasted for a fleeting moment.

Perhaps everyone who knew you both assumed you would end up together; even that white cat, now accepted by the earth, had been most intimate with the two of you.

But your mother had long ago told you how it would end with him:

In the future, you would have to endure being worlds apart from the boy standing before you confessing his love. You would have to endure the two of you drifting further and further away, and you would have to endure seeing photos of other women on his social media. Back then, you might still "like" his posts, as long as he was living a stable life and had found his own happiness.

You could certainly be with him—you had already been together for a long time. You could be his lover, but you were destined never to be his wife.

Following your mother's words, you imagined a day in the future, five or ten years later, when you would go to see the other girl he brought before you. By then, you should have the money to buy yourself a decent and beautiful outfit—preferably in a style he had once complimented. The top should be loose; he had become even more shy after entering puberty than he was in childhood. The waist could be cinched tight; you had to prove that you hadn't gained weight in the years you were away from him. The skirt didn't need to be long, just slightly past the knees would do. It didn't need lace; a pure black hem was his favorite color. You used to think this color made one look old, but who told you he was a man of no taste?

Your hair wouldn't need to be pinned up, nor styled into any bun; just letting it hang loose would be fine. Let the ends brush over your shoulders and fall across your chest. Of course, you certainly wouldn't have dyed it; it would still be gold-pink, and it would still smell like green tangerines—after all, once you used a certain shampoo, you were too lazy to switch.

Well, if you did that, that girl who hadn't appeared yet would surely think that you, this so-called childhood friend, were there to intimidate her. If that were to ruin Ryo's relationship, it would seem to go against your original intention.

Fairy tales only end with "the prince and princess lived happily ever after." If your story with him ended here, and you let time and the world stand still, you could also rightfully record that "you and he lived happily ever after." But real time does not stop for two people. Its pages will keep turning with the years until the very end of life. You certainly wouldn't see the final ending, but one thing you could be sure of—

You could not say yes.

Your mother, your sister, his father, his mother. Love was never a fairy tale for just two people. Just as your mother said, the child who chops wood cannot play with the child who herds cattle. After the day is done, his work is finished, but what about your firewood?

What's more, your sister also held an unusual fondness for him. You had long known that the current state of the Ichinose family was as fragile as a clay giant—one light push and it would collapse into ruins. The current Ichinose family could not afford to have him in it; he would destroy even this facade of peace.

And so, you opened your mouth and refused him. You had already rejected many boys' confessions over the past year. At the very beginning, you would fret, wondering if your tone and choice of words were too harsh, until later, when you saw a boy who had confessed to you just yesterday chasing after another girl the next day. Only then did you begin to feel at ease, as if repeating a task on an assembly line.

Listen patiently, smile, shake your head, refuse, bow slightly to thank them and apologize.

But this time, you couldn't manage any of the preceding steps. You tried hard to curl the corners of your mouth into your usual warm smile, but your vocal cords felt as if they were struggling just to move. In the end, you only gave his confession an answer of [No].

The day after that, Kitagawa Ryo moved out of that apartment. His reason was... you couldn't remember.

Packing up the furniture and luggage took an entire day. By dusk, you were still helping him tidy up the last room. For the first time, he was as silent as a wall in front of you, and you didn't exchange a single unnecessary word with Kitagawa Ryo. You intentionally avoided his gaze, feeling like a prisoner you had captured yourself, nailed to a cross, waiting for judgment.

Your sister was still wondering why "Brother Ryo" from next door had to move away so suddenly, while your mother was unexpectedly happy. She perhaps thought that the only variable in your life had finally left for good. It had been a long time since you had seen your mother look so relieved.

You certainly didn't hide the fact that he had confessed to you. Your mother had always been disdainful of so-called "liking" at this age. She would always comment in the tone of someone who had been through it all:

[Little boys at this age change every single day. Every moment they have new ideas and new things they like. They are never stingy with making grand promises, always acting with the bravado of someone pulling out their own heart in front of a girl, but they are never reliable. Even if he is sincere at the very moment he confesses to you, he will change afterward.]

[Why must everything be tied to romantic feelings between men and women? People don't live in this world just for love.]

You had no way to refute your mother. For once, she spoke to you about the father you had never seen. Your mother told you about her passionate love for your father during her student days—the man who claimed he was going abroad for a business trip right after they got married, and never came back.

She, too, had once been hooked by the other party's "my dear" and "my darling." Those sweet nothings were like the most delicious bait; only after swallowing them did she realize the sharp hook had already pierced her throat.

When the man first abandoned her, she would call him day and night, fantasizing that he really was just too busy with work. While taking care of two children, she would desperately send him long, long text messages, as if she were pouring all her emotions and even her very flesh into those lines, as if that would make him change his mind.

This self-abusive life lasted for a full six months before she truly accepted that he would never return.

The man who had made her countless promises disappeared without a sound. She had spent half a year scooping for the moon in the water, and in the end, all that fell into her palms was the fading moonlight.

That is why she was happy you had escaped that fate.

You struggle within your heart; your mother's happiness is enough to make you happy, to the point where everything you do is intentionally or unintentionally aimed at seeking her approval. You have always followed the life path she set for you, growing up until now with the most sincere and honest personality. You love seeing your mother's furrowed brows relax, and you love seeing her smile and praise you for a job well done.

However, you can simultaneously feel the suppressed pain of Kitagawa Ryo, like thrusting your hand into a freshly opened clam, tracing its tender flesh all the way to the deepest point. This image, which you once caught a fleeting glimpse of on television, is now vividly imprinted in your mind.

When you walked out of the apartment, the sky was already gloomy and raining. This late autumn rain knocked down many leaves from the roadside trees that had turned yellow but had not yet fallen. Soaked soft by the rain, they didn't crunch underfoot like they would when dry, but instead felt much more muffled.

You held up that large umbrella, saw him to the car, and told him you would see him tomorrow.

For the first time, you blamed that umbrella for being so enormous—large enough to cover two people and block out every drop of rain, so much so that you couldn't even deceive yourself, couldn't pretend that the things blurring your vision were just splashing raindrops.

But you also felt fortunate, because you only needed to lower the brim of the umbrella slightly, and it was enough to shield your expression.

I&K, you stroked the texture on the umbrella handle, watching the vehicle drive away.

After the birthday banquet for Ichinose Maki ended, Karuizawa Kei and Ichinose Honami had a conversation.

Karuizawa Kei looked up at the girl in front of her, the hot cocoa in her hands rising with swirling mist.

"Karuizawa-san, is there something you wanted to see me about?"

Ichinose Honami, sitting opposite her, was also holding a warm cocoa. The way she sipped it looked just like a cute hamster. Even as a member of the same sex, Karuizawa Kei had to admit Ichinose Honami's charm as a woman, from her appearance to her figure, and then to that kind of approachability she could never possess.

"This... for you."

Karuizawa Kei took an item out of her bag; it was a long, thin wooden slip, crudely made and of poor material.

"A fortune slip?"

Ichinose Honami took it with some confusion, suddenly remembering what happened the day before yesterday:

"Is this from that temple..."

"Yes, it's the fortune you and your senior drew back then. I went back and asked for it later."

Karuizawa Kei bit her straw lightly and explained to Ichinose Honami:

"Actually, after I got home, I looked up some things about that temple on online forums, including their service for custom fortune slips. They carve pre-written messages onto them and use sleight of hand to ensure the two people draw that specific, custom-made slip. That is the reason why they don't 'interpret' the fortunes there. Whether you like it or not, if one party writes their own words, the fate is already sealed—why bother interpreting it?"

"So, this should be what your senior wanted to convey to you."

Karuizawa Kei stared into Ichinose Honami's eyes, trying to find some boiling emotion within them, but in the end, she sensed nothing.

She was just honestly and relievedly smiling, as if she were listening to a story that had nothing to do with her:

"Mm, I see."

"Aren't you going to look at it?"

Ichinose Honami returned it to Karuizawa Kei and lowered her head to sip her cocoa:

"There's no need to look. It's probably a confession."

Even though these were words that would make any girl her age's heart race, they sounded so ordinary coming from Ichinose Honami's mouth. This tone even made Karuizawa Kei feel a bit annoyed.

Karuizawa Kei knew all of Kitagawa Ryo's arrangements on that mountain, from the foot to the summit. If Ichinose Honami had truly climbed to the top with him that day, she would have enjoyed a sky full of fireworks set off just for her, and seen hundreds of drones forming a confession formation in the air. It was the most romantic confession scene, one that any girl could reminisce about for a lifetime.

"Tch."

Karuizawa Kei suppressed the faint disgust welling up from the bottom of her heart. The role she played did not allow her to show such emotions. She was the catalyst meant to realize their romance; what she had to do was be like that white cat named Hotaru, giving Ichinose Honami a hard push from behind.

That was the role she was playing now.

"You clearly like your senior, yet you refuse to accept his confession, always fantasizing about using your childhood friend relationship to bind you both, leaving your fate entirely to an unknowable future. That isn't right, is it?"

Karuizawa Kei felt she was acting perfectly. If Kitagawa Ryo were by her side right now, he would surely sincerely praise the jealousy contained in her words.

"Why does everything have to be dragged into the realm of romance? People don't live in this world just for love."

Looking at the still-smiling Ichinose Honami, Karuizawa Kei inexplicably thought of the term "prematurely aged." It was as if she weren't facing a fifteen-year-old girl, but a thirty-five-year-old single mother abandoned by her husband, struggling to make a living with two children.

"Then you should clearly and explicitly reject his confession! Just like you did before—find some other guy, say you like him, that he's your boyfriend now, and go tell your senior things like that."

Anger broke through her chest, and her prepared lines shattered. But Karuizawa Kei still stared directly at the other girl, like a bird of prey, using a sharp beak to peck the girl in front of her apart layer by layer until she saw the bloody nerves beneath the skin. She savored this miserable sight, the corners of her mouth curling into a cruel arc as she added in a low voice:

"At the fireworks festival, he will confess to you again."

"What are you talking about?"

Ichinose Honami's tone suddenly turned cold.

"What are you afraid of?"

"Go and reject him again. Isn't that what you already decided to do?"

Karuizawa Kei followed up immediately, feeling for the first time that she had finally provoked Ichinose Honami.

Today, Karuizawa Kei learned two facts:

First, Ichinose Honami was not a gentle and omnipotent angel; she was also capable of casting hateful gazes at others. This fact made Karuizawa Kei feel incredibly satisfied; she couldn't wait to see Ichinose Honami truly discard her feigned facade and sob her heart out.

Second, she also understood why, when Kitagawa Ryo first took her to meet Ichinose Maki, he had subconsciously ordered a hot cocoa for her.

Even after Ichinose Honami left, Karuizawa Kei remained sitting there for a long time. Before leaving, she muttered to herself and tossed the wooden slip straight into the coffee shop's trash can. She thought she could finally feel at ease to unseal that rose-scented perfume.

"After all, you were the one who didn't want it."

Chapter 18: Fireworks Fade Cold (Part 2)

"Honami?"

Kitagawa Ryo's brain cleared in an instant. He nearly ripped the IV needle from the back of his right hand, his legs swinging to the bedside as he scrambled to find his shoes. He didn't even notice when Karuizawa Kei, who had been sitting by the bed just a moment ago, stood up; she thoughtfully held the IV line and stand for him, following right by his side.

"Ryo, lie back down, please lie back down."

Ichinose Honami wiped her damp hands on the hem of her top, leaving two faint palm prints behind. Although she looked a bit disheveled, her spirits seemed high, and her tone was as energetic as ever. She turned to Karuizawa Kei and said:

"I'm a bit indisposed at the moment, could I trouble Karuizawa-san to help Ryo back into bed?"

"Yeah."

Seeing the stubborn expression on Ichinose Honami's face, Kitagawa Ryo stopped struggling and obediently let Karuizawa Kei help him back onto the bed. By the time the thick quilt was pulled back over his legs, Izaki had already handed Ichinose Honami a warm towel, taken the dripping umbrella from her, and stepped out of the ward.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the friction of Ichinose Honami wiping her arms, face, and calves. In truth, she wasn't soaked through, and there was certainly no risk of any wardrobe malfunction; aside from a noticeable wet patch on her right shoulder and her hands and feet, most of her clothes were merely slightly damp.

"Phew."

After wiping her cheeks with the hot towel, Ichinose Honami turned her slightly flushed face toward him. Her snow-white skin was tinged with red, her waist-length hair still held traces of moisture, and her azure eyes shimmered with a watery luster, while her damp lips glowed with a soft sheen. Though such a term might not yet be appropriate for a girl of her age, somehow, this posture was strangely provocative.

"It feels warmer now."

Ichinose Honami sat naturally by Kitagawa Ryo's bedside. Seemingly concerned that her clothes weren't entirely clean, she sat even more cautiously than Karuizawa Kei had before. In an incredibly awkward position, finding only a tiny point of support for her body, she sat there and then wrapped both of her hands around Kitagawa Ryo's left hand.

Kitagawa Ryo's hand was beautiful, much like his handsome face; every detail of his appearance left a deep impression on girls.

His fair, nimble fingers, with their rounded and neatly trimmed nails, emitted a soft, white luster under the incandescent light. It was a beautiful, slender hand—the kind of hand that might make one think the boy before them was a famous pianist or a magician.

And at this moment, she gently tucked this hand into her palms. Ichinose's left palm pressed against Kitagawa Ryo's, and her right palm rested against the back of his hand, much like how one might cup their hands and blow warm air into them during a winter snowfall. Kitagawa Ryo could feel her warm, moist breath hitting his fingertips; Ichinose Honami was leaning in closer than he had imagined.

"It's very cold."

"Do you still feel unwell?"