Two devilish angels

It is funny how things can turn sour so fast.

One moment I was thinking of ways to help Kurokawa survive her ordeal, going as far as asking for permission from the others to follow her. Sadly, a couple minutes later, I am stumped in my place, only allowed to stare at her shaking body disappearing from sight. Regrettably, everything goes in the most unexpected way possible.

This is not an over-exaggeration, but anticipation filled my chest while coming here. Thinking everything would go well even made me feel a bit giddy. Honestly, I had high hopes.

I really did.

And now, when all is said and done, from my neck to my feet, as if everything is temporarily disconnected, the signals are all cut, making me a temporarily paralyzed man. No matter how fast my heart beats and how I force my arms and legs to move, nothing. Not even the slightest. They have all given up on my command as if disappointed in their owner. I can understand that completely, though. Because I am just as disappointed.

For a second, I am nothing more than a dead body: cold, lifeless, and out of reach.

Simple as that.

Outside, the sun shines brilliantly without batting an eye on us, but it is hard for me to feel anything good after what happened. From that endless source of warmth up high in the sky, its radiance comes down to this place and touches my face. And as I stay still, never changing my stance, slowly but surely, that majestic warmth turns into searing heat on one side of my cheek.

In a way, that feels like a painful slap. A harsh reminder from the world, if you will. Still, although it is not a great thing to experience at this instance, the guilt in my heart would have been less if Kurokawa slapped me directly. She could have punched me in the face, kicked me, or done anything she would do to ease the pain I caused. Instead, she went on her way.

Know your place, the hot sensation on my cheek says. Who are you to change anything, it says. She never needed your help. To begin with, you are but useless canon fodder, it says. How I wish I am only imagining that.

"I am one dumb piece of crap..." I look to the ground, and traces of the bookworm are still there.

Unlike her disappearance, Kurokawa's tears have not yet been vaporized on the hallway floor. In fact, they are now refracting light back onto my face. Thanks to the lighting from outside our hallway, her teardrops glow like beautiful transparent crystals, even brighter and sparklier than diamonds ever can.

However, in contrast to her gem-like tears, crimson-colored droplets of blood are littered all over the tiles from the entrance of the female restroom. I still do not know what caused that wound on her hand. Yet I have no doubt it came from the bookworm herself. Once again, she could not contain her emotions, and that laceration on her arm was the result.

Staring aimlessly at those droplets, I suddenly think that Kurokawa's blood and tears are the only proof of her ever being here. In the most literal sense, without those, no one would think of a conversation in this long hallway. Actually, no one would ever believe there was even someone called Kurokawa.

After so long, I can say that I understand the bookworm to some extent. Kurokawa's existence is confirmed just because she is hurt. Whether the origin was from her or someone or something else did not make any difference. Ever since she could remember, Kurokawa has always met with disdain and dissatisfaction. She tried everything she could to improve that situation, and yet nothing changed after so many years.

All this time, the only way for her to understand she was still alive was thanks to the pain she had to endure. There was no love in her life, no friendship, no nothing. Her mother taught her that to love was to suffer, and she took that lesson onto her skin under the hands of her beloved mother. Kurokawa never knew how to deal with positive feedback as she lived inside of self-blaming and self-doubt. Even when praised, she would never accept herself and only disregarded her achievements as pure luck. In her mind, Kurokawa was never good enough.

Then, what would happen if that person killed their abuser? Would she finally break free from those curses? Would she finally be able to live outside the cages she set up for herself?

The answer was a big fat no. Kurokawa could not live through it. So much so that...she would kill herself only to be released from the horror of her mind.

I was there. I saw the relief in our bookworm's green but lifeless eyes. Kurokawa was glad to be killed off. She was only happy...after she was dead.

What if saving her is not the way? What if I should let Kurokawa go with the story, killing her own mother and then being unable to live with that immense guilt?

"Was I wrong?" Ahead of me is no longer the slender body of Kurokawa. She runs away so fast that I can not catch even a glimpse. Honestly, it is as if she wants to escape reality and me rather than just run from me alone.

"Was it wrong to come after her?"

I cannot answer these questions anymore because they are already answered.

Firstly, they are rhetorical. Secondly, they were completed by none other than Kurokawa herself.

Standing here like a scarecrow, I keep asking myself what to do next. Of course, going back to class is one of the options, yet it seems like I have not accomplished anything worth note-taking. Then again, being in the corridor is also utterly useless to anyone.

I seriously thought I could persuade Kurokawa not to go home for today or at least convince her to let everyone follow her just in case things got bad. In the end, nothing came out of my mouth that made sense.

Perhaps I valued myself too highly. That is probably correct... What can a mob character achieve without the help of the protagonist? They have no reason to lean on me for comfort. In fact, it is the exact opposite. I am the one who has to find comfort in looking at them to feel alive. Seeing Rachel and Laura giving me my attention has been both positive and negative.

I am getting overconfident in my limited ability. That will not do.

"False hope, huh." I breathe out heavily. Those two words, even though short, are heavier than neutron stars.

They are so heavy that I felt like Kurokawa punched my stomach just by saying them. No, I wish she would beat me so hard that I vomited breakfast.

I never thought there would be a day that I would cause such a devastating thing to anyone. Not in a million years, at least. Usually, the one on the receiving end would be none other than me.

Only until being on that end that one would fully grasp how utterly painful their heart would feel. Imagine being squeezed in an airtight container, put into a grinder, and thrown into the deepest part of the sea. That is the physical equivalence of being crushed by false hope. It puts you up high on the pedestal made from the finest marble in the universe, feeds you the best food and beverage money can ever buy, and then tears your limbs apart, ripping your heart out from your chest while laughing.

And I was giving that to Kurokawa...

"I'm so...so sorry..."

"Hey, pretty boy. Why are you sitting in front of the girl's room?" Suddenly, from behind, I hear the voice of a familiar chef-wannabe.

"He's not here for jokes, Rachel. Get serious." Laura walks in front of me and scolds Rachel immediately.

"Well, I thought that would lighten my darling up a little. Don't be such a party pooper all the time, Reppy." Of course, that silly blond girl will never listen to the class rep.

Also, Reppy?

Laura shares my same thought apparently: "Reppy?" Her voice sounds a bit stunned.

"Class rep is so long and dull. Reppy is a much better alteration to your job. C, do you like it?" From behind, someone wraps her hands around me and puts her chin on my right shoulder. Her full bosom presses tightly on my back. My dark vision changes in less than a second, thanks to that. "I want to hug you with all my strength, but you'll pop like a balloon if I do that."

How does she say something so graphic but so cartoonish at the same time?

That Reppy sounds pretty cute, though. My lips unconsciously move after hearing Laura's ridiculous nickname.

"No, Rachel. Reppy sounds like a dog's name." Laura's amber eyes turn upward as she sighs.

Wait, now that Laura is putting it like that...

"Reppy... Reppy... Yeah! I can hear it too!" Rachel laughs merrily.

"Stop saying it, please!"

"Reppy! Reppy! Reppy!"

"Now YOU are sounding like a dog!! Cut it out!" Laura yells.

"Ahem!" Rachel lets go of me to join Laura in front. "As you can see, darling, we thought that you would need some cheering up after seeing you being alone in this place."

"Even though I never expected to hear Rachel behaving like a dog, I really hope we could make you feel somewhat better." Laura stares at me with worried eyes. "Also, we need to apologize for following you here. We were only making sure nothing goes out of the line."

I know they would not leave me alone, so that is expected. On the other hand, I feel blessed because they came to cheer me up like this more than anything. It certainly helped since I have been staying still for who-knows-when. If they had not come here, I do not know when I will start moving. Even though Kurokawa's case still weighs heavily in my chest, it feels good to see these two girls working side by side for once.

That last part in the class rep's sentence sounds a bit heavy, though...

Rachel glances at Laura with a mischievous smile but says nothing.

"As your girlfriend..." Laura continues.

"Girlfriends!" Rachel corrects her with lightning speed.

"Shut the hell up! Ahem! Pardon my rudeness. You know you can count on me, right, C?"

Rachel shoots her hand up like a rocket. "And me! You can always ask Rachel about everything!"

They both smile warmly, wanting me to confide in them.

Honestly, these girls have no idea how much of an impact they have created. Bad and good.

(I found out that it is Webnovel that people are using to leak my work. Because of this and to make it fair for all my loyal (and broke) cheese consumers, I'll still keep a free chapter weekly update schedule on my Patreon. Posting there weekly. However, I will not post on any other social platform that frequent. Maybe 2 weeks, maybe 3, heck maybe even 4.)