Her face was so pale.
It wasn’t the usual delicate white of warm spring snow, but a deathly pallor so severe that even her lips had lost all color, nearly transparent.
The rims of her eyes were faintly red.
A few strands of undried moisture clung to her lashes, and the edges of her eyelids still held wet traces that hadn’t been wiped clean.
Her silver hair was more disordered than usual.
Several stray strands stuck to her cheeks without care, as if she no longer even had the strength to lift a hand and brush them aside.
Those blood-red eyes gazed forward, yet they didn’t seem to be looking at anything.
Empty. Unfocused.
She really was about to break.
Could it be… because of what happened yesterday?
Yukina stopped walking and hugged the schoolbag in her arms a little tighter.
A dull ache faintly pulsed from the wound beneath the bandages, reminding her of what had occurred in that tin shack yesterday.
The soft mat. The ribbon. The pain. The fangs…
She was the one who had been hurt, so why did the Mashiro in front of her look as if she was suffering even more?
Is she… blaming herself?
She had heard that when a person self-loathed to the point of collapse, their skin would itch—itch terribly, so terribly that they would want nothing more than to peel their own flesh open.
Yukina noticed that on the wrist holding the umbrella, several red marks remained that hadn’t faded.
Those clearly weren’t traces left by a cat or some small animal.
They were from human nails.
Her own nails.
No.
Mashiro’s current state was very bad. If she was left alone, something dangerous would definitely happen.
She had to do something.
Thud.
Her small leather shoes stepped across the shadow, taking one step forward.
Yet Mashiro seemed to have sensed something in advance.
She slowly turned her head.
The movement was very slow, as if even this single action had exhausted every last bit of her strength.
Sunlight fell through the gaps in the green leaves, piercing the darkness enclosed by the black umbrella, and landed in those dried blood-red eyes.
The moment their gazes met, time seemed to freeze.
At first, a spark named “joy” ignited deep within those eyes. The pupils recovered an extremely faint light.
Yet in less than a second.
That light extinguished. A flame named “despair” began to spread.
Mashiro’s line of sight began to move—from her eye patch, to the skin-colored band-aid on the side of her neck, to the white bandages at the edge of her school uniform and wrists.
Trembling.
Unstoppable trembling.
Her face grew even paler. Her lips parted slightly, as if wanting to say something, only to close again, pressing into a line uglier than crying.
She wanted to approach.
For a fleeting moment, Mashiro tightly gripped the umbrella handle.
Her body leaned forward slightly. Her heel shifted half a step within the shadow.
That was a movement of wanting to draw closer.
Then she retreated again.
It didn’t look like she was stepping back so much as being shoved hard in the chest by something. Her shoulders trembled lightly.
The umbrella handle was gripped so tightly it made a sound as if about to snap.
“…Mashiro.”
Yukina wanted to say “It’s okay.” She wanted to say “These are only small injuries.” But just as she took her first step forward—
Thud.
Mashiro retreated one step.
The umbrella edge swayed. The shadow swallowed her a little deeper.
She was afraid. Those red eyes never left the bandages on Yukina’s body. With every glance, her throat seemed to be gripped even tighter by something.
She couldn’t approach any further.
Yukina stopped in place and stood still, trying hard to make her voice sound calmer.
“…It’s okay!”
She raised her arm so Mashiro could clearly see those bandages, then shook her head firmly.
The wounds weren’t actually that serious. They already didn’t hurt much.
They were just wrapped more heavily. It wasn’t a big deal. It really wasn’t a big deal.
“It’s not Mashiro’s fault.”
The distance was a little far. Yukina’s voice was already rather soft, so she could only try her best to make every word carry across.
Although something like that had happened yesterday, she believed it wasn’t Mashiro’s fault.
In the end, the malice this world held toward the female protagonist was simply too great.
Mashiro had always been forced into a state on the brink of collapse.
Over so many years, far too many emotions had been suppressed deep in her heart, and the Yukina who had appeared in the tin shack yesterday had coincidentally become the outlet for those emotions.
So what she wanted wasn’t blame, nor forgiveness, but—
“Let’s… sit down and… talk properly.”
She only managed half the sentence before her breath couldn’t quite support it.
Yukina’s lung capacity was simply too small; it could only carry her this far.
The moment the words reached her—
Rustle rustle.
A breeze happened to blow past. The black umbrella was lifted a little again.
The leaves overhead scraped against each other, and the fragmented shade swayed, completely illuminating the darkness that had been covering her.
Mashiro’s eyes widened as she looked at her, as if she had been struck by something.
Disbelief.
Helplessness… Some emotion that had been pressed down too deeply for too long violently trembled at the bottom of her eyes.
Her throat choked twice.
The expression that had already been hard to maintain began to melt little by little. Water mist gathered in those blood-red eyes, swaying as if it might fall at any moment.
Eh?!
Was Mashiro about to cry? Why?! Had she been angered to tears?! This was the school gate. If someone saw…
Yukina immediately grew flustered.
Strange “ah-woo-woo” sounds escaped the corner of her mouth. She thought she must have done something wrong again.
At that moment…
“Lit—tle—Yu—ki—na—!”
A full-of-energy voice smashed over from behind, startling Yukina into standing at attention on the spot.
It was Ningning.
Her heart skipped half a beat.
Yukina turned her head with trembling caution.
A light-blue raccoon dog was hopping and squeezing through the crowd, holding her camera high, her tail spinning like a propeller.
“Why did you run so fast! I looked for ages and couldn’t find you. I thought some loli-con pervert had abducted you!”
Don’t cause trouble at a time like this!
Yukina really wanted to punch this idiot raccoon dog.
But she couldn’t. The current situation was already bad. If Ningning found out she was with Mashiro, and that Mashiro was currently showing an expression like this, their private secret relationship would definitely be suspected.
“I…”
Yukina quickly organized her words in her mind, turning sideways to block Ningning’s line of sight, and pulled a rather unnatural smile at the corner of her mouth.
“I just… saw a… puppy.”
“A puppy? What puppy? Where where!”
Ningning instantly perked up.
Both raccoon dog ears whooshed upright, her head turning left and right as she looked around everywhere.
“It already ran away.”
“Eh, little Yukina actually hid from me and went off to pet a dog by herself. That’s just too much!”
“Sorry.”
Yukina pressed her lips together a little guiltily—both toward the deceived Ningning, and toward Mashiro, who had just been described as a puppy.
“Alright, alright, let’s go already. We’re really going to be late.”
She pressed the schoolbag against Ningning’s back and pushed her a little toward the school gate.
“Hm? Little Yukina seems a bit off. You were just petting a dog, so why are you suddenly in such a hurry?”
“…I’m not in a hurry. You’re overthinking it.”
What a sharp idiot raccoon dog.
Yukina used every ounce of her strength to push, then used the promise of snacks as temptation, before she finally managed to lead Ningning away.
As she was leaving, Yukina carefully turned her head and looked back toward that patch of tree shade.
Gone.
Under the tree shade, there was nothing.
Only the grass leaves that had been stepped on were slowly springing back up, the sole proof that someone had been there.
Mashiro’s figure had vanished cleanly, as if she had never existed.
Had her thoughts just now… really reached her?
“…Little Yukina?”
Ningning turned her head back.
“…It’s nothing.”
Yukina turned around and once again stepped forward, walking into the school.