Chương 413: 191.Our New Year's Night 1

Outside the gate, rules. Inside the gate, a reserve unit of incidents. The moment I arrived at school, the first thing I saw was Nikaido standing in front of the gate. And I mean literally the first thing. Can't be helped — the way she existed in that winter night was different from most people. Other people "stand there." Nikaido was more like "already there." Like the gate. Like the streetlights. Like chapter three, article four of the school regulations.

In short, the kind of thing that got erected during the founding of the school itself, unchanged for a century, wind can't move it, snow can't tilt it, even her posture looked like it had been officially passed at a faculty meeting. And standing beside her — a bonus — was some unlucky soul I didn't recognize. Judging by the uniform, she was a disciplinary officer of some class. Judging by the expression, she'd been dragged out to keep Nikaido company.

That look, of trying very hard to stand at attention while clearly thinking "why exactly am I accompanying the committee chair in zero-degree night wind," had a very realistic year-end labor atmosphere to it. I'd meant to keep watching, but Maki had already walked ahead. The moment Kushima Maki stepped into official territory, she switched into a different system entirely.

Walking speed, shoulder angle, even the length of her scarf hanging down — all calculated in advance, steady enough to be uncomfortable, steady enough to be reassuring. That contradiction made no logical sense when you thought about it, but Maki just had a talent for making nonsense look like common sense itself. Nikaido saw us and gave a slight nod.

"No entries or exits today." Nikaido said, as flat as if reporting snow depth.

"You'll be able to lock up shortly."

"That's it?" I blinked, genuinely a little surprised. This was Nikaido. The one who talked about patrol routes like tactical deployments, who lectured on flashlight angles like military regulations, who could make even "today is calm" carry an unanswerable chill. And the handover was this short?

"That's it." Nikaido's reply was clean and clipped, as if even one extra particle of tone was a waste. The corner of my mouth twitched. I was about to fire off a jab — "so today you finally learned to speak like a human" — when Maki cut off my right to court death first.

"Thank you for your care this year, Chair Nikaido." Then, very properly, Maki bowed to Nikaido — and, naturally, with the air of something that simply went without saying, pressed one hand down on my shoulder, forcing me down with her. In that instant of being pressed into the bow, my brain had time for exactly one sentence.... Kushima Maki, you are a human-shaped etiquette enforcement device.

"We look forward to your continued guidance next year as well." Maki went on.

"Overstated." Nikaido returned the bow.

"Likewise, I look forward to your continued guidance next year." That return bow was so precise it looked measured with a ruler, down to the angle of the silver hair falling at her forehead — tidy to an irritating degree. The winter night light hit her profile, cold as glass. The unlucky soul beside her hurriedly bowed as well, and the whole picture briefly took on the solemnity of some great family's joint year-end safety prayer ceremony.

And I, pressed in the middle, just felt like a wild animal that had wandered into a high-society gathering. Only once Nikaido and that disciplinary officer had walked off together did I finally let out the breath I'd been holding.

"I know you can't stand Nikaido," Maki said, walking toward the gate with a flat voice, "but Nikaido is still a member of the Ten Great Houses. Basic courtesy has to be maintained."

"Oh," I shoved my hands into my coat pockets and followed along slowly, "the classic thank-you-on-the-mouth, baka-yarou-in-the-heart routine." Maki paused half a beat, as if judging whether that line belonged in the category of twisted logic or the category of beyond saving. In the end she chose the most Kushima-Maki way to respond.

"Your way of thinking is extremely biased." She said it while reaching for the school gate. The heavy iron gate ground out a low, dull sound in the winter night, like some old-fashioned monster humming deep in its throat. Maki's gloved hand pressed against the metal lock, movements brisk, her profile cold and clean in the gate light, wearing that particular focus of being on duty. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Then she added one more cut.

"Besides, I'm strict with you too, and you don't react that hard." I stopped in my tracks.... This woman really knew how to turn an ordinary sentence into an interrogation. The gate closed fully in her hands, letting out a solid metallic thud. Click— The moment that sound landed, for some reason the whole gate area suddenly felt like it held only the two of us. The wind was cold, the light white, Nikaido long gone, the unlucky companion of hers vanishing off around the other end of the school buildings.

Maki had her back to me, still head-down locking the gate; behind her neck, a small strip of skin where the scarf had shifted aside, so white it was almost unreasonable. I looked at that back, and my brain didn't even bother with what could pass for thinking. Or rather — some things simply aren't meant to be thought about. While Maki's back was turned to me at the lock, I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her from behind, gently. Her whole body went obviously stiff. Not struggling. Not resisting.

Just that — no matter how calm a person is, the body gets ambushed successfully first. I rested my chin beside her shoulder, lowered my voice, and said into her ear:"Because I like you." Then, casually, I kissed her cheek. Light. So light it was like a prank. But I knew perfectly well it wasn't a prank. Maki didn't move for half a second. That half-second was so still that even I started to wonder whether I'd overstepped again.

After all, Maki — no matter how cold she was with her mouth normally, when she actually decided to settle accounts, she didn't bother with warm-up formalities. A highly inauspicious premonition even flashed through my head: oh no, you've got to be kidding — is tonight's night shift really going to start with a domestic-violence scene at the school gate? But the next second, Maki drew in a low breath.

"Do you know you're acting exactly like a scumbag, Hoshino Shimo?" Hearing that, my heart lurched first. Huh? No way? For one genuine instant I thought I really had taken it too far this time. But when Maki turned around, I nearly laughed out loud on the spot. Because her whole face was already bright red. Not the exaggerated manga-style explosion of red, and not a deliberately staged show of shy anger.

A real one — burning from the roots of her ears all the way up her cheeks, like fruit just brought in from the snow that somehow ran too warm instead. To put it simply: fully ripe. Ripe in a way that held zero conviction. She was still frowning, clearly trying to keep her authority as Student Council President, but under that complexion the glare's destructive power dropped by a clean thirty percent. I fought to hold it in, failed, and let the corner of my mouth rise.

"Tough mouth." Looking at that face of hers — clearly rattled, still insisting it wasn't — I added the second half.

"But Maki, the way you look right now isn't very convincing."

"You—!" Maki had just raised her hand, still undecided between pushing me away first and strangling me first, when something icy landed on my face. I blinked, looked up. Snow had started falling from the sky at some point. Not a blizzard, and not that kind of dramatic snow built for a hero and heroine to stand in for three and a half pages of mutual confession.

Just light, slow flakes drifting down one by one, as if the sky had finally decided we'd been dragging out our scene at the gate too long and meant to use a natural phenomenon to drive people indoors. I wiped the melting snow off my face and looked at Maki again. Still red. Even the tip of her nose had been forced into a faint flush by the cold wind and that last exchange.

Half of her was already in disarray, and yet she was still trying, very hard, to stand back in her proper spot as Kushima Maki — which made me want to laugh, and also want to kiss her once more. Of course, I wasn't tired of living, so I didn't actually do it.

"All right. Time to go inside." I patted her shoulder lightly, my tone very proper, my meaning very improper.

"No matter who's taking the lead tonight, keep standing here and we'll both turn into ice sculptures together." Maki, as if choked even more by that line, got messier.

"Hoshino Shimo!" She rarely used my full name in that tone — genuinely serious, almost flustered. Honestly, it was refreshing. Whenever Maki called my name, most of the time it was either to correct me or to remind me to stop manufacturing incidents. Like this — clearly trying to keep the scene under control while a little instability leaked through her voice — was a rare sight.

"Tonight is the sacred New Year's Eve. You can't—""Inside first." I cut her off outright and steered her toward the duty-room door. Because if we didn't go in, Maki might freeze to death before the year-end night shift even began, and it would be very hard for me to explain to the Student Council a case of "vice president excessively flirts with president at school gate, resulting in the latter's death from exposure." Half pushed, half led, Maki took a step forward.

She looked like she still wanted to say something, but in the end just pressed her lips together. Looking at that expression, one thing became very clearly apparent to me. Tonight is trouble. Not because of the duty. Not because of the gate. Not even because of the year-end all-business, teeth-grating officiousness Nikaido had just shown. The real trouble was— I'd already kissed Maki. And Maki, in her current state, clearly hadn't cooled down at all.

In other words, for the rest of the night shift, I was going to be sharing a duty room with an apple that maintained the outward shape of a Student Council President while running hot inside.... A year-end-limited, large-scale disaster. I pulled open the duty-room door for her, and the smell of warmth and indoor light spilled out to meet us.

Before stepping inside, Maki turned her head to the side, as if finally regaining a little balance, and dropped a line in a very low voice:"You'd better pray tonight isn't long." I blinked. Then I smiled. Because to anyone else that line might have been a warning. To me it sounded more like something else. Like tonight was far from over. I followed her in and closed the door behind us.

Snow fell beyond the door; the heater hummed low; and Kushima Maki stood just a few steps away, ears still red, face already starting to force itself back into duty mode. That scene was deeply worth respecting. And deeply worth me slowly courting my own doom for the rest of the shift. So as I set the flashlight down on the desk, I reached a very honest conclusion in my head. Tonight's duty probably isn't going to be just patrols.