Returning the Cloth Bag

Airi Sakura's cloth bag was carefully washed clean by Yuefeng, left out to dry, then tucked away in the deepest part of his drawer.

He never found an opportunity to return it to her in person—Class D and Class C rarely crossed paths, and Airi Sakura always kept to herself, deliberately avoiding crowds.

Yuefeng could only hold on to it for the time being while quietly keeping an eye on Class D's movements, hoping to find a suitable chance.

Ishizaki's group settled down for a while. Ibuki Mio's intimidation was clearly no small thing, and the Garden incident had not reached the teachers.

But Ishizaki also knew that if the matter came to light, it would do him no good whatsoever.

Yuefeng knew this was only the calm before the storm. Ishizaki's revenge would never end there; it would only become more covert and vicious.

As for Ryuen, he seemed completely unaware of the Garden incident, or perhaps he simply did not care even if he knew.

He continued to "ask" Yuefeng about the research group's progress through veiled means, displaying an unusually keen interest in the movements of Sakayanagi Arisu and Katsuragi Kohei in particular.

Yuefeng continued filtering information with care, playing the role of someone "useful, but not overly outstanding."

Yet whenever he reported in, Sakayanagi Arisu's violet eyes—eyes that seemed capable of seeing through everything—would involuntarily flash through his mind, along with her metaphors about "players" and "pieces."

The pressure had not eased. Instead, as time passed, it tightened around him like a noose.

Yuefeng felt as though he were walking on a blade's edge. On one side lay Ryuen's exploitation and Ishizaki's hostility; on the other, the scrutiny and maneuvering of the brilliant minds in the research group.

And Father's gaze, along with Kiyotaka's ever-present "observation," hung over him like the sword of Damocles.

He needed strength. Not merely intelligence and adaptability, but real strength—the strength to protect himself, and to protect others when necessary.

He could not remain as helpless as he had been in the Garden, when facing the assault of Ishizaki and the other two, able to rely only on Ibuki Mio's timely arrival and a bit of luck.

The Old Book Section of the library became his new "training ground."

Besides looking up materials for his research topic, he began deliberately searching for dusty books and manuscripts on human biomechanics, basic fighting, self-defense techniques, and even classical martial arts.

Advanced Nurturing High School had an exceptionally extensive collection, covering many obscure fields. These forgotten "miscellaneous books" tucked away in corners became Yuefeng's treasure trove of knowledge.

He had no delusions of becoming a fighting master. He knew his physical limitations and the limits of his time.

His goal was clear: with the aid of his Slow Motion ability, he would learn the most efficient and practical defensive and counterattack techniques, focusing on vulnerable joints, power generation, breaking free from holds, and using the environment.

He did not seek to defeat his enemies. He only wanted a better chance of protecting himself should another incident like the one in the Garden occur, perhaps even creating an opening to escape or strike back.

Late at night, when all was quiet, he would slip into a more secluded corner behind the Old Gymnasium and practice the movements from the books over and over against the air or imaginary opponents.

Break down, slow down, imitate, adjust. Sweat soaked through his clothes, and the old injury in his left arm throbbed faintly under repeated exertion, but he gritted his teeth and persisted.

He knew that in this place, weakness and hesitation would only invite fiercer attacks.

Beyond physical training, he also began applying his Slow Motion ability more systematically to his daily observations.

He forced himself to concentrate, catching the microexpressions, gestures, and changes in tone during people's conversations.

He observed the way students from different spheres of influence walked around campus, the patterns in how they gathered, and the warning signs before conflicts broke out.

This too was enormously taxing. It often left his head splitting after class, but the rewards were equally obvious.

He gradually became able to detect Ishizaki's group approaching with ill intent earlier, and to judge the real motives behind some of Ryuen's vague instructions more accurately.

He could even more keenly perceive, during research group discussions, what lay beneath Katsuragi's persistence, Horikita's stubbornness, Hirata's mediation, and Ichinose's sincerity.

Those subtle emotions and inclinations in their true positions—things even they themselves might not have realized.

As for Sakayanagi Arisu... he still could not see through her. That woman was like an ancient well with no visible bottom; throw in a stone, and only a silent echo returned.

Yuefeng could only be doubly careful, controlling his words, actions, and expressions more cautiously around her to avoid revealing anything that could be interpreted.

That evening, Yuefeng stayed in the library's Old Book Section until late, as usual.

He had just closed a thin volume on the evolution of modern jujutsu, rubbed his aching eyes, and prepared to leave. Outside, the lights had just begun to come on, and the campus had grown much quieter.

Just as he finished packing up and headed toward the exit, the corner of his eye caught a familiar figure standing on tiptoe with difficulty, trying to reach a heavy illustrated volume on the highest shelf.

It was Airi Sakura.

She appeared to be alone as well, hugging several books to her chest. Her thick glasses were nearly slipping off her nose. After several failed attempts, anxiety and helplessness appeared on her face.

Yuefeng stopped. He looked around. Apart from the two of them, the Old Book Section was empty at the moment. It was a good opportunity.

He gave a soft cough.

Airi Sakura jolted like a startled deer, nearly dropping the books in her arms.

She turned around in a panic. When she saw Yuefeng, her eyes instantly widened, the color drained from her face, and her body instinctively shrank back. She clutched the books tightly to her chest as though they were a shield.

"Sorry, sorry! I-I'll leave right away!" She stammered incoherently, lowering her head as she prepared to run.

"Sakura," Yuefeng hurriedly said, keeping his voice soft, afraid of frightening her further. "I don't mean you any harm. It's just... you dropped something in the Garden last time."

As he spoke, he took the light-blue floral cloth bag from his backpack—the one he had washed clean and carefully folded—and held it out to her.

Airi Sakura froze in the middle of fleeing. Slowly, she lifted her head, her gaze falling through the thick lenses onto the cloth bag in Yuefeng's hand.

That familiar, treasured cloth bag was now spotless and neatly folded.

Her lips trembled slightly, and her eyes quickly misted over.

She looked at the bag, then at Yuefeng, as though she wanted to say something, but the words caught in her throat.

"I washed it. It should be fine." Yuefeng extended the bag a little farther, doing his best to make his expression seem gentle and harmless. "Check whether anything is missing."

Airi Sakura hesitated, then slowly reached out. Her fingertips trembled slightly as she accepted the cloth bag.

She pressed it tightly to her chest as though holding a recovered treasure. At last, she could not hold back her tears; large drops rolled down her cheeks, yet she bit her lip and made no sound.

"Th-thank you..." she choked out, her voice as faint as a mosquito's buzz. "And... that day... I'm sorry... it was all because of me..."

"No, I'm the one who should apologize." Yuefeng shook his head, his tone sincere. "I dragged you into it. Ishizaki and the others were after me."