At the far end of the clubroom, where shelves overflowed with manga, wuxia and xianxia novels, and stacks of old anime CDs, Yuki stood in quiet contemplation. Her fingers lightly traced the edges of the book in her hands, but she wasn't reading a single word. The usual atmosphere filled the room—Ren and Akari trading playful jabs at Oliver, Hiroshi lost in his own world. It was the kind of familiar chaos she had grown used to, a comfortable rhythm of laughter and conversation.
Yet, her thoughts were elsewhere.
Her eyes flicked toward Oliver when she thought no one was looking. He was right there, yet somehow distant. Even as he bantered with the others, there was a weight in his gaze, a quiet detachment that made it seem like he was never fully present. And still, he carried that effortless presence—like gravity itself bent toward him.
Yuki took a quiet breath, steadying herself.
For the past twenty minutes, she had been debating whether or not to ask him to walk her home. A simple request. Nothing unusual about it. But hesitation gnawed at her, making something so ordinary feel impossibly difficult.
What if he said no?
No—Oliver wasn't the type to be outright rude. He'd agree without a second thought. But what if he saw through her? What if he realized she just wanted an excuse to spend more time with him?
Her grip on the book tightened.
"Yuki-senpai, what do you think about adding this to the shelf?" Hiroshi's voice broke through her thoughts. He held up a manga, waiting for her input.
Yuki blinked, her mind taking a second to catch up.
"Mm." She nodded, barely glancing at the cover, and busied herself with sorting the new arrivals. Her hands moved on autopilot, picking up books, placing them on the shelves, making small comments where needed. But her focus remained elsewhere, the words in her mind forming and breaking apart in endless loops.
Across the room, the conversation at the table shifted again, something about dream rituals, but the words barely registered. Instead, she kept replaying the sentence in her mind, forming it, breaking it apart, second-guessing every possible way it could sound.
Before she knew it, she had finished packing the new arrivals. Hiroshi said something to her, but she didn't pay attention—just hummed in response. Before she walked to the table where Oliver was sitting.
She gazed at him briefly before looking away, a flush creeping up her neck. Embarrassment gnawed at her, but she shook it off quickly, determined.
But as she turned back, she caught his eyes on her. There was no mistaking it. His gaze lingered a moment too long, and Yuki's breath caught in her throat. His eyes seemed to sweep over her—assessing, undressing. She felt the heat of it crawl across her skin.
Instead of pulling away, she turned her head, pretending she hadn't noticed. Deep inside, her thoughts spiraled.
He was looking at me. That means he's interested, right?
She quickly moved to one of the seats at the table, taking a spot as far from him as she could. The anime on the screen played in the background, but she hardly saw it. Her eyes were fixed on Oliver, sneaking glances every now and then. Ten minutes passed, or was it more? It didn't matter. She was counting seconds in her head.
Finally, Oliver glanced up, checking the time on the wall. He stood, grabbing his bag, and Yuki's heart thudded in her chest.
It's go time, Yuki. Don't mess this up.
Oliver's footsteps grew closer to the door, and she could feel the weight of her hesitation pressing down on her. The moment had arrived. But she couldn't move. Not until he was almost out the door.
"Um… Senpai," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
He turned, raising an eyebrow, a flicker of curiosity crossing his face.
Her heart pounded louder. "You're heading toward Hoshizakura, right? Can we walk together?"
The words tumbled out before she could stop them.
Oliver blinked, then shrugged. "Yeah, sure. But I gotta make a quick stop first. If you don't mind waiting, we can go together."
Relief flooded her chest, though she kept her expression calm. "I don't mind."
---
The hallway stretched out before them, the bustling noise of the clubroom now fading into the distance. Yuki was hyper-aware of everything—the quiet rhythm of their footsteps, the small space between them. She wasn't close enough to brush against him, but she could feel his presence like a weight pressing on her chest.
The silence was not uncomfortable, but Yuki wished she could say something. Ask him why he'd seemed so distant, why he was always so guarded. But the words stuck in her throat. She had never been good at starting conversations with him. And now, standing next to him, she didn't know how to find the courage to break the silence.
Before she could gather her thoughts, they reached the study club room. Oliver knocked, and Yuki watched as the exchange unfolded.
Kazu smirked, teasing. Oliver responded casually, but the words stung Yuki's chest, despite her trying to brush them off. "Just a friend."
Of course, that was the truth.
But still, it hurt more than she expected.
She shoved the feeling aside, trying to focus on the path ahead. But when Oliver mentioned making a stop, her heart sank. She hadn't expected it to be for this.
Drugs.
She wasn't naive. She knew people did these things. But seeing Oliver accept it so casually, almost like it was routine, left her feeling uneasy.
They walked in silence after that, the air thick between them. Her heart thudded harder with each step, for reasons she didn't fully understand.
When Kazu split off at an intersection, Yuki's nerves hit an all-time high. It was just the two of them now. Her heart raced as the distance between them slowly closed, and she couldn't help but feel that this was her chance.
When they reached her house, she hesitated for a moment, then turned to him.
"Do you… want to come in for a bit?" she asked, her voice soft but steady.
Oliver raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. "Sure."
Yuki unlocked the door, stepping inside first and watching him follow. There was a brief pause as his eyes swept over the interior—just a normal house, cozy and quiet. Nothing about it screamed excitement, nothing about it suggested the chaos of his world.
She bent down to slip off her shoes, and as she did, she felt his gaze linger. The thought of his eyes on her sent a warm shiver down her spine. She took a breath, steadying herself.
"You can leave your shoes here," she said, her voice steady.
Oliver followed her in, and Yuki gestured toward the living room. "You can sit over there."
He nodded, settling on the couch as Yuki disappeared into the kitchen. Her hands shook slightly as she poured hot water into the teapot, her mind running in circles. She could hear him shifting on the couch, the small sounds making her pulse quicken.
Just tell him. Just say it.
She exhaled sharply, gathering the cups of tea before walking back into the living room. He looked up as she approached, his gaze casual, but there was something in it. Something she couldn't quite read.
She sat down a little closer than before, the warmth of her body just within reach.
They were silent for a moment, the soft sound of the wind outside the only noise.
Yuki wrapped her hands around her cup, grounding herself with the warmth.
"Thank you for walking with me, senpai," she said, voice quiet but firm.
Oliver gave a small nod. "No problem."
Her fingers tightened around the cup, but she didn't look away from him. She wasn't sure how to continue, but the words were burning inside her, ready to spill out.
"Oliver," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I think… I think I like you. More than just a friend. More than just a senpai."
Her breath hitched as she pushed through the words, her heart racing in her chest.
"I've been trying to find the right time to say it, but I don't think I can wait any longer."
The room seemed to close in around her, the silence hanging between them, suffocating. She wasn't sure how long they stared at each other, but the seconds felt like hours.
Finally, Oliver exhaled and leaned back, his gaze shifting to something far off in the distance. "Huh."
It wasn't the rejection she feared. But it wasn't the acceptance she had hoped for, either.
Her stomach twisted.
She had imagined this moment so many times—played it out in her head. Sometimes he would smile, pulling her into his arms. Sometimes he would be serious, telling her he felt the same way.
But this… this wasn't what she expected.
The silence stretched, heavy, uncomfortable.
"I mean it," she said, her voice quieter, but firm.
Oliver tilted his head, studying her. Something flickered in his eyes—amusement? Curiosity? It was gone too quickly to be sure.
Then, slowly, he leaned forward, closing the distance between them. Yuki's breath caught as his fingers brushed over her chin, tilting her face up just slightly.
His voice was quieter now, laced with something darker, heavier. "You sure about that?"
Yuki swallowed hard. She wasn't sure about much anymore. But one thing was certain.
"I wouldn't have said it if I wasn't," she whispered.
Oliver's lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Alright then."
And then he kissed her.
Yuki's breath hitched as Oliver's lips pressed against hers, rough and demanding. His grip tightened around her waist, pulling her flush against him, his warmth bleeding into her skin. There was nothing tender about his touch—it was all hunger, all need.
She knew it wasn't love. Knew this wasn't the fairy tale confession she had once imagined. But right now, that didn't matter. Right now, she was in his arms, and that was enough.
Oliver barely thought beyond the fire burning through his veins. He wasn't looking for meaning, wasn't searching for connection. He just wanted this—wanted to lose himself in the heat of her body, in the mind-numbing pleasure that came with it.
His hands roamed her form, feeling the way she shivered under his touch, the way her breath trembled against his lips. She melted against him, yielding without hesitation, her fingers tangling into his hair, pulling him closer.
Then something strange happened.
As his lips traced a path down her neck, a subtle shift stirred deep within him. A pulse, a ripple—something in his core stirring to life. It was faint at first, barely noticeable, but as their bodies pressed together, the sensation grew.
What is this…?
It was like the first time he had smoked—like the way the Qi had seeped into his body, thick and intoxicating. But this was different. This wasn't external energy filtering in. This was something raw, something potent flowing between them, as if her very essence was feeding into his.
His hands gripped her tighter as he focused on it, on the strange warmth coiling through his meridians. It wasn't just pleasure—there was power in this, a slow-burning energy bleeding into his Qi pathways, making his dantian hum with something alive.
Yuki gasped softly as he shifted, his movements becoming slower, more deliberate. She felt it too—not the Qi, not the cultivation aspect, but something deeper. A pull, a gravity between them that sent shivers down her spine.
"Oliver…" she whispered, her voice breathless, uncertain.
Yuki's school uniform was slightly rumpled now, her blue blazer slightly askew, and her blouse untucked from her skirt, exposing a sliver of pale skin.
She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face, her lips parted as if she wanted to say something but couldn't find the words.
He should stop.
The thought came and went, a flicker of logic buried beneath the haze of need.
But he didn't stop.
His hand slipped beneath her blouse, fingertips skimming over warm, smooth skin. Yuki shivered but didn't pull away. Instead, she leaned into him, her breath warm against his neck, her fingers gripping the front of his blazer.
She wasn't just letting this happen.
She wanted this.
And that realization sent a sharp thrill through him, tangled somewhere between satisfaction and something deeper—something he didn't want to name.
Yuki's heart pounded as Oliver shifted, pressing her back against the couch. The world blurred around her, shrinking down to the weight of his body over hers, the heat of his breath against her skin.
She had dreamed of this moment. Fantasized about it in quiet, stolen thoughts. But she had never expected it to be like this—so intense, so overwhelming.
Her fingers trembled as she reached up, cupping his face. "Oliver…"
He paused, just for a second.
Her chest tightened. Would he stop? Would he leave her like this, on the edge of something she wasn't sure she could pull back from?
Oliver's hands worked expertly, undoing the buttons on her blouse. With a deliberate movement, he tugged the blue blazer from her shoulders and tossed it aside, leaving her in just her blouse and skirt.
Then his lips brushed against her jaw, trailing lower. His hands moved with quiet certainty, unfastening the buttons of her blouse one by one.
She shivered as cool air met her skin, her pulse quickening.
No turning back now.
And she didn't want to.
She let herself fall.
Let herself give in.
Because even if it wasn't love…
Even if this was just a fleeting moment…
At least, for today, she could pretend it was real.