A Love Triangle in Progress?

The clamor of the Sports Festival had completely settled, and campus life seemed to have returned to its orderly routine. Yet certain subtle changes, like stones cast into a still lake, continued to send ripples spreading silently.

Yuefeng's left arm was recovering more slowly than expected. Though the risk from the bone fracture had been ruled out, the strained muscles and ligaments required time and patience.

He still applied medicine and took his medication on schedule every day, attending class with his arm in a sling. His movements were slower than usual, but they carried an added caution that had become necessary.

Although Ishizaki and his group had temporarily gone quiet, the occasional looks they cast his way remained hostile, like venomous snakes lying in wait.

Yuefeng acted as though he had not noticed. Instead, he devoted more energy to his studies and refining his Survival Notes—following Kiyotaka's suggestion to "use more impactful facts to bury the rumors."

It made him realize that increasing his own irreplaceable "value" might be the fundamental answer to everything.

Advanced Logic and Game Theory had become a rare mental oasis for him lately, a place where he could temporarily set aside the troubles of Class C.

The coursework was extremely difficult, and the professor's standards were demanding, but the clashes of thought with brilliant minds like Katsuragi, Ichinose, and Horikita—

along with the unspoken academic exchanges between him and Hiyori Shiina—benefited him immensely. They also gave him a more firsthand understanding of the logic followed by this world's "elite."

Hiyori Shiina also seemed to have gradually emerged from the distress caused by the rumors, and her classroom contributions had regained their usual clarity and sharpness.

Yet whenever her eyes met Yuefeng's, she would still blush faintly in embarrassment before quickly looking away.

But the panic from before was no longer in her gaze. In its place was a measure of trust, and... something soft Yuefeng could not quite describe.

After class that day, Yuefeng was slower than usual while packing up because of his injured arm.

By the time he left the seminar room, there was hardly anyone left in the hallway.

The afterglow of the setting sun streamed through the tall glass windows, dyeing the empty corridor a warm golden orange.

Holding several thick reference books, he carefully balanced them with his uninjured right arm and slowly headed toward the library.

He planned to visit the Old Book Section Hiyori Shiina had mentioned and look for several out-of-print works the professor had brought up concerning the origins of early game theory.

Just as he rounded a corner connected to the central courtyard, a petite figure suddenly darted out from behind a nearby pillar like a startled rabbit, nearly crashing straight into him.

"Ah! S-sorry!" came a panicked, weak voice.

Yuefeng quickly shifted aside to steady himself, keeping both the books and his injured arm safe. Looking closely, he saw that it was Airi Sakura.

She was dressed as she always was—thick black-framed glasses, two meticulously braided pigtails, and a perfectly proper school uniform.

At that moment, she was clutching a small square box carefully wrapped in pale blue floral cloth with both hands.

Her head was lowered, and her body trembled slightly from nervousness. Her cheeks were so red they seemed ready to bleed, and she did not dare look at Yuefeng's face.

"Sakura?" Yuefeng was somewhat surprised, but he softened his tone. "It's fine, we didn't bump into each other. Why are you here?"

"I, I..." Airi Sakura seemed to summon enormous courage before forcing several words out of her throat. Her voice was so quiet it was almost inaudible. "I... I was waiting for you, Yuefeng..."

Waiting for me? Yuefeng was even more surprised.

Aside from that time on the path when he had helped her out, he and Airi Sakura had barely interacted at all. Class D and Class C had different schedules, so they rarely even ran into each other.

"Waiting for me? Is something wrong?" Yuefeng asked, discreetly surveying the area around them.

The corridor was quiet, with only the faint noise of students from the activity rooms in the distance.

Airi Sakura appeared to grow even more nervous. Her fingers tightened around the box until her knuckles turned white.

She took several deep breaths before seemingly making up her mind. Then she suddenly shoved the little box wrapped in pale blue floral cloth into Yuefeng's arms!

"Th-this! F-for you!" She spoke incredibly fast, her voice trembling. "I-it's cookies I made myself! Th-thank you for... for helping me last time!"

After saying that, she did not dare look at Yuefeng's reaction at all. As though she had completed some major mission, or was terrified of being rejected, she turned and ran!

Her little leather shoes pattered urgently against the floor, her braids flailing wildly behind her. In the blink of an eye, she disappeared down the other end of the corridor.

All she left behind was a faint sweet scent of butter and icing sugar, along with the cloth-wrapped box in Yuefeng's arms, still carrying the warmth of a girl's body.

Yuefeng stood frozen in place, holding books with another box stuffed into his arms. It took him quite a while to come back to himself.

Cookies? Homemade? As thanks for what happened last time?

He looked down at the square box in his arms, carefully wrapped in floral cloth and tied with a delicate bow.

The fabric felt soft, and the bow was tied slightly crookedly, revealing an awkward sincerity. The sweet aroma drifted into his nose in waves.

An immensely complicated feeling rose in Yuefeng's heart. There was surprise, a little amusement, and more than anything... an indescribable sense of being moved.

At Advanced Nurturing High School, a place that believed in "strength above all" and was filled everywhere with competition and calculation—

such pure, awkward gratitude without any ulterior motive was like a ray of sunlight unexpectedly shining into the gloom that had settled over his heart these past few days.

Airi Sakura, that extremely introverted girl who was afraid of interacting with others, had gathered so much courage. She had baked cookies herself and waited where he might pass, all just to say thank you.

How much determination had that taken?

Yuefeng could practically see her hiding behind the pillar, nervously gripping the box and rehearsing what she wanted to say over and over.

Then, once he appeared, she had become so flustered that she could barely speak before fleeing like a startled fawn.

A little... cute.

He could not help curling his lips into a smile. Even the dull pain in his left arm seemed to ease slightly.

He carefully shifted his posture, securing the reference books between his chin and uninjured right arm. With his right hand free, he gently untied the slightly too-tight bow and lifted one corner of the floral cloth.

Inside was a plain white cardboard box.

When he opened the lid, he found more than a dozen cookies arranged neatly inside. They had been baked a lovely golden color, simple and round in shape, with slightly charred edges and a dusting of fine icing sugar across their surfaces.

They were not perfect in appearance, but the maker's care was obvious. The fragrance grew even richer.

Yuefeng picked one up and put it into his mouth.

The cookie was crisp, rich with butter, and moderately sweet. There was even a faint hint of... perhaps too much salt added by trembling hands?

It tasted homemade, unlike anything from the high-end pastry shops in his memory, yet it carried a peculiar warmth.

He chewed slowly, his gaze resting on the empty end of the corridor in the direction Airi Sakura had disappeared.

He accepted this gratitude. Not merely because of the cookies, but because this sentiment felt so precious in such a cold world.

He carefully wrapped up the remaining cookies, retied the bow, and held them close along with his reference books before continuing toward the library.

His steps seemed a little lighter.

He did not notice that, not far behind him, a figure stood silently in the shadows of another branching corridor.

Hiyori Shiina held a book she had just borrowed from the library. Her light brown eyes watched Yuefeng's departing back, as well as the conspicuous box wrapped in pale blue floral cloth in his arms.

Her gaze lingered on the box for a long time. There was no particular expression on her face, but her lips pressed together slightly, and her fingers unconsciously tightened, creasing the pages of the book she held.

Only after Yuefeng disappeared through the library doors—

did she slowly withdraw her gaze and lower her head to look at the thick book in her arms, Analysis of Modern Logical Philosophy Schools. The cover still bore creases left by the pressure of her fingertips.

She stood there silently for a while. The evening wind passed through the courtyard, carrying the faint scent of hydrangeas.

Then she turned, holding the book, and slowly walked away in the direction opposite the library.

The setting sun stretched her shadow long behind her, making her look somewhat lonely.

Yuefeng knew nothing of this. He entered the library and made his familiar way to the Old Book Section.

It was still so quiet that one could almost hear dust settling.

He found a seat by the window under a lamp, set the reference books and cookie box beside him, and began focusing on the documents he needed.

Time slipped by amid the soft rustling of turning pages. Outside the window, the sky darkened completely, and the library lights automatically brightened.

When Yuefeng finally found a useful old book and eagerly pulled it out, the corner of his eye seemed to catch a figure flashing past behind a gap between distant bookshelves, vanishing into deeper shadows.

The movement was swift, almost blending into the darkness.

Who was that?

Yuefeng's heart sank slightly. Was it a coincidence, or was someone observing him again?

His fingers tightened around the book, but no sign of it showed on his face.

He continued reading as though nothing had happened, while directing part of his attention toward the sounds around him.

However, until he left the library, that figure never appeared again.

The Old Book Section returned to dead silence, with only his departing footsteps echoing through the empty space.

After returning to his dorm, Yuefeng carefully placed Airi Sakura's cookie box in one corner of his desk.

He did not finish them immediately. Instead, he planned to savor this hard-earned "gift of thanks" slowly.

He sat at the desk, opened his Survival Notes, and prepared to record some of today's observations and thoughts.

His pen hovered above the paper, but he found himself lost in thought.

Airi Sakura's awkward thanks, and the warm sweetness of the cookies.

The "secret base" Hiyori Shiina had shared with him and all her precise academic guidance.

Ibuki Mio's stiff yet timely intervention; even Kiyotaka's cold but often incisive "analyses"...

This campus of "strength above all" did not seem to contain only competition, calculation, and cold rules.

There were also these tiny, gentle connections and acts of kindness that occasionally sparked between people.

They might be fragile, fleeting, perhaps unable to withstand a greater storm.

But it was precisely these small things that made this cold soil seem capable of growing something different, something worth protecting.

Yuefeng's gaze fell upon his left arm, still wrapped in bandages.

The pain was real, the threats existed, and the road ahead remained shrouded in mist.

But at least for this moment, the sweetness of cookies still lingered in his mouth, and a small warmth remained in his heart from having been thanked so sincerely.

That was enough.

Enough to support him as he continued onward.

He lowered his head and began writing earnestly in his notes.