novelraw Chapter 16
Chapter 16
Chapter 16
Today's Yan Huan isn't yesterday's Yan Huan.
It's a sophism he doesn't actually believe, yet he does—genuinely—regret a choice he made yesterday.
It feels like the time he wished, at six years old, for life to turn fantastical, only to have a game-modifier pop up in his first year of high school and try to beat him to his knees.
In short: he's really regretting it now.
After washing up, Yan Huan straightens his appearance in the mirror. Meow-chan trots over, tail high, circling his ankles.
White cotton T-shirt under a loose printed overshirt, paired with straight-leg jeans—that's his Monday uniform.
The boy in the mirror yawns, the languor softening his handsome face.
Only now does Yan Huan realize what that unshakable drowsiness means. Cold water on his face, breakfast—nothing dispels it. The feeling is mild but constant, leaving him drained. Only total concentration pushes it away, and how many moments in a day allow for that?
At about 7:10 he shoulders his bag.
"Meow-chan, I'm heading out."
"Meow?"
Meow-chan will appear whenever called, yet Yan Huan still says goodbye; the drowsiness has him that rattled.
He takes his phone and heads downstairs. The bus stop is seven or eight minutes away; several south-district students are already waiting.
"Morning, President."
"Hey."
Yan Huan smiles and greets them, then leans against the shelter and scrolls on his phone. Before long a coach bearing the Yuanyue crest pulls up. He taps his student card and chooses his usual window seat.
The ride takes forty minutes, stop-and-go. School starts at eight; first period at eight-thirty. His stop is early in the south-district loop, so only a handful of passengers are aboard.
At the next stop Hashimoto boards, phone in hand—same route as Yan Huan.
"Yo, morning, President."
"Morning."
Hashimoto scans the bus, spots Yan Huan by the window, and slides in beside him.
The moment he sits, he flips his phone sideways and launches a waifu-collecting gacha game.
"Ah, Leader's already on the job at this hour? So diligent! Then Hoshihime-chan must work hard too~"
The chibi mascot greets him sweetly; the boy under the Bluetooth earbud smiles.
"New banner drops soon, and the new girl's stacked. I've saved a mountain of gems—she's coming home!"
He burns stamina, does dailies, proclaiming it with the fervor of a general.
Yan Huan glances at the screen, cheek propped on hand.
"You pulled both last banner's units. Still pulling? How much have you spent?"
"Just my allowance—totally worth it for my wife. I even snagged her signature weapon. Look at this blade."
On the screen physics engines jiggle the heroine; numbers erupt in a glittering cascade.
Yan Huan yawns, says nothing, and slumps against the window.
"Slept badly. I'm gonna nap. Wake me when we get there."
"Rare sight—President napping on the bus? Was Auntie Ye's house that fun? Still not over it?"
"Haha."
Try being hypnotised and see how fun it is.
Even now the memory of Ye Shiyu tugging at his bedroom door Saturday night sets his nerves on edge.
With that thought he lets his eyes fall shut and the drowsiness swallow him.
Hashimoto, meanwhile, tends his digital bonsai—morning routine. Every day he logs in, same tasks, same habits.
While he plays, a hand reaches from the aisle and tugs his sleeve.
"Hm?"
He turns. A girl, cheeks pink, meets his eyes.
"..."
Hashimoto pauses, adjusts his glasses.
"You're not on this route. I've never seen you."
"Hehe, sorry. I slept over at a friend's—she takes this bus. Um, Hashimoto-kun, could you...?"
She fishes from her pocket an envelope scented faintly of soap, plus a tin of candies, and holds them out.
She jabs a shy finger toward Yan Huan asleep beside the window; the rest needs no explanation.
Hashimoto glances at the sleeping boy—so handsome the sight feels criminal to disturb—then smiles.
"When the President wakes up I'll give them to him. Don't worry."
"Thank you! You're so nice, Hashimoto-kun!"
"...A compliment that doesn't feel like one at all."
The girl leaves. Hashimoto, muttering, is about to open another game when another hand taps his shirt.
He looks up; this time a senior student offers chocolates with a grin.
"Haha, Hashimoto, you know the drill."
"..."
"From now on, if the President rides the bus, you take the aisle seat. I want the window."
On campus, after disembarking, Hashimoto suddenly says,
"From now on I'm taking the aisle seat on the bus. You take the gifts."
Yan Huan, arms full of presents, looks resigned.
"I usually refuse, so you can just turn them down."
Hashimoto flushes, waving his hands.
"How could I? I'm not you—I don't have that experience! And isn't it rude to refuse?"
"Not at all. Or just ignore them and wake me."
Beyond the surrounding chatter, rhythmic clanging drifts over—the north campus construction.
Yan Huan follows the sound and spots the skeleton of a new building nearing completion.
"School's building again. Making a racket this early."
"Think it's the new teaching block. Started over break, should finish this month."
Talking idly, they climb to the top floor of the teaching building—student-council territory.
At the end of the corridor a plaque reads:
[Yuanyue Academy Student-Council Office]
Hashimoto rummages in the mailbox outside the door—empty.
"Huh? Weird. No files this week?"
"It's Monday. There should be."
Every Monday the council meets. That's why Yan Huan and Hashimoto bypassed homeroom.
Usually the school office drops off files over the weekend, notifying the council of the coming week's schedule.
Why is the mailbox bare?
Yan Huan steps to the door and, smiling, says,
"Sakuramiya Vice-President is already here."
"Huh? This early?"
Hashimoto pushes open the door to reveal an office of roughly thirty square meters.
A wool carpet covers the hardwood floor. A glass coffee table sits between two black sofas; a potted plant rests on top.
Along the wall, one sofa faces a row of cabinets stacked with files and books.
At the far end the curtains are open; latticed windows let in morning light that falls on a larger desk.
On the desk a gold plate reads:
"President, Yuanyue Student Council."
Beside the desk, in front of the bookcase, stands a girl in a black British-style uniform.
Her black hair is tied back with a simple white ribbon. Strands at her temples fade to a soft cherry pink.
A dark-green blazer and white blouse wrap her petite frame; a white bow at the collar adds a delicate touch.
Below the pleated dark-green skirt, white socks and black loafers—heels lifted—she's dusting the shelves with a feather duster.
Because of her height she must stand on tiptoe to reach the upper shelves.
At the sound of the door her heels touch down. She turns, eyes bright.
Her smile is elfin and beautiful.
"Morning, President, Hashimoto."
"Morning, Sakuramiya."
"Vice-President Sakuramiya, good morning."
Yan Huan walked to the coffee table and unloaded the armful of snacks he'd brought.
"Sakuramiya, help yourself—let's finish these together."
Sakuramiya Hitomi set her duster down without looking at the treats. A pink envelope caught her eye. She picked it up and studied the writing.
"To the adorable President Yan Huan—please open!"
She pinched the envelope, then focused on the name at the bottom.
"From Year 1 Class C, Park Seo-mun."
Unconsciously her fingers dented the paper. After a moment she said, "Let's wait until Yua Lina and Ashley arrive before we dig in."
Then she placed the letter on the table and went to pour tea.
"Sure thing."
Behind her, Yan Huan and Hashimoto sat on the sofa and began sorting snacks. Sakuramiya returned with two cups of hot black tea and set them in front of Yan Huan and Hashimoto.
"Here you go, President, Hashimoto."
"Ah, thanks, Sakuramiya."
"Thank you, Vice-President!"
She placed two more cups on the table, then sat opposite them with her own.
Moments later the door burst open and a voice brimming with energy rang out.
"President! Sakuramiya! Hashimoto! Morning!!"
They turned to see a girl in a JK uniform whose hair had been dip-dyed pink and red. Her mixed-race features were striking; the wide grin and hands on hips showed off her full figure.
Behind her strode a tall girl with short blond hair, expressionless—clearly used to the first girl's exuberance.
"Good morning, everyone."
These two were Student-Council Secretary Yua Lina and Discipline Captain Ashley.
"Morning, Lina, Ashley."
"Ooh! So many goodies! Where'd they come from?"
Ignoring Lina, who knelt at the table with shining eyes, Ashley sat beside Sakuramiya and glanced at the heart sticker on a candy tin.
"Girls gave these to the President—his name's on them."
"Wha—?!"
Lina's head snapped up, eyes blazing at the languid Yan Huan.
"President, are you in love?!"
"Lina, we're about to start the meeting."
Sakuramiya cut in smoothly, rising to fetch some folders.
"Aw, come on! Aren't you even curious, Sakuramiya? Ashley, what about you? Who'll win our President's heart? Seriously, why is nobody interested? The student council's turning into a kingdom of singles—and it's all your fault!"
Sakuramiya sat back down without replying, sipping her tea. Ashley pulled out her phone and scrolled through short videos.
"The President and Vice-President won't have trouble finding dates. President's just busy—no time, probably no crush either. Sakuramiya declared the day she joined that she'd never date."
"I work part-time and juggle school and council work—dating's impossible. As for Hashimoto, he and his two-dimensional wives seem perfectly happy."
Sakuramiya paused mid-sip; Hashimoto adjusted his glasses as if to say, "Touché."
Still not giving up, Lina leaned toward Yan Huan and whispered,
"President, just tell me—do you like anyone? I swear I won't tell!"
Yan Huan yawned.
"Sure, I like you, Lina."
Ripples danced across Sakuramiya's tea, reflecting her blurred eyes. Lina's face flared red.
"No-no-no! I can't be with the President! I'd worry every day that my handsome President might cheat—I'd be depressed! If we married and had kids, I'd cry all the time and die before twenty-five!"
Ashley rolled her eyes.
"Already planning the wedding? How many drinks did you have?"
Lina spun toward Yan Huan, incredulous.
"President, were you joking?"
"Aren't you the one who started joking?"
Yan Huan spread his hands, done teasing the guileless Lina.
"You said you wouldn't tell anyone, but if I actually told you, the news would be all over every group chat before first period."
Lina pouted, about to protest, but Yan Huan accepted the folders Sakuramiya handed him. After a quick glance he turned serious.
"All right, meeting time. Take the appropriate file."
He distributed the papers. Sakuramiya, having already read them, sipped her tea.
"Three items. First, the placement-exam results come out tomorrow—apparently they're grim."
"Results in one weekend? Gotta love those specially recruited teachers from Longguo," Hashimoto muttered.
Yan Huan nodded.
"Posting the results—same as always, Lina's job."
"Got it!"
Sakuramiya continued.
"Second, Club Wars is coming. This is our second time organizing a major event. Last term's Sports Day had... issues, and the board is skeptical."
"I object! Why doubt us?" Lina raised her hand before Sakuramiya finished.
"Filling the pool with cola for a swimming race and a half-naked basketball game were voted in—sure, the board vetoed them, but the five-kilometre faculty marathon made perfect sense. The vice-principal losing to students is on him!"
"You put the vice-principal in the track-team heat," Ashley deadpanned.
"He said in his opening speech he used to be an athlete—let him show his stuff, right?"
Yan Huan skimmed the file and smiled at Hashimoto.
"We have two weeks. For now, Hashimoto, lock in the budget. Sakuramiya and I will notify the clubs. We'll sort out the schedule later."
"OK, President."
The first two items were from the school; the last was not. It came from the Linmen Education Bureau.
Sakuramiya lifted the cover page: "Linmen Guidelines on Preventing Campus Bullying."
She held it up.
"Do we have bullying at our school?"
Lina shook her head like a fool.
"Nope! Everyone's nice. I've never seen a fight."
"Bullying isn't just fighting," Hashimoto snapped.
"Physical assault is obvious and easy to handle. What's scary are the hidden insults, rumours, exclusion—hard to define, and asking the victim outright rarely works."
Ashley nodded.
"I've heard a student in the second-year withdrew last term with depression. The school across town made the news after a suicide. This memo probably came because of that. When they investigated, students lied through their teeth—prevention failed."
Chastened, Lina wailed and flung herself into Sakuramiya's arms.
"Waaah, Sakuramiya! They're bullying me—make them stop!"
Sakuramiya patted her back, speechless.
Yan Huan studied the document, remembering an old line: "Subjectively none, objectively... maybe?"
Then his brow furrowed. He suddenly thought of Ye Shiyu.
She'd transferred in today, out of the blue. With that bizarre personality, could she mesh with classmates who'd already spent a year together? At the aquarium she'd clashed with a Modifier user. If she ever ran into real trouble... Ye Shiyu wouldn't hesitate to hypnotise everyone in sight.
"Amen—sophomores, you're on your own."
"President?"
Just as Yan Huan pictured Ye Shiyu rampaging with the Modifier, Sakuramiya Hitomi's voice snapped him back to the present.
"Sorry—was lost in thought." Yan Huan gave her a small smile. "Good thing the problem isn't ours to solve; the Education Bureau stepped in first. The memo lists exactly what the school has to do—we'll just follow it."
"Understood, President."
Same moment, Year 1 Class C.
"Hey, Seo-mun, did you actually give the letter to the president this morning? He never takes stuff like that—how'd you pull it off?"
Classes didn't start until eight-thirty, so students were scattered inside and outside the room. Toward the back, several girls clustered around a desk, chatting excitedly.
The girl they called Park Seo-mun covered her mouth, grinning. "Totally! The president was asleep on the bus, and the student-council accountant sitting next to him is a total nerd—so easy. I batted my eyelashes and he got dizzy; promised he'd hand it over."
"The president was asleep on the bus?"
"Swear it. Look—my sneak shot. Handsome, right?"
"Sneaky! Send it to me—come on."
While they giggled, another girl slipped past in the aisle.
She kept her head down, heavy black hair veiling a fair face and dragging her whole aura downward. It wasn't even a uniform day, yet she wore the full Yuanyue blazer—making her stick out among the casual clothes. What really drew eyes was the way her blazer strained across an impressive chest; the buttons looked ready to pop and shout, "Command, I can't hold the line! Tell the lower buttons I love them!"
Her name tag read: "Year 1 Class C, An Le."
As she shuffled by, one word from the gossiping girls snagged her attention. Her steps slowed; her lips parted slightly.
The clique noticed the brooding girl who'd stopped. Park Seo-mun glanced at her friends and smirked.
"Hey—anyone else smell milk?"
"Yeah, super strong milk scent!"
An Le pressed her lips together at the taunt, but mustered courage and said to the girl sitting on the desk behind Park Seo-mun, "Th-this seat is mine."
The occupant laughed without moving. "Just borrowing it—don't be stingy. Have a bigger... chest of generosity."
Snort.
Park Seo-mun turned away, already bored, and raised her phone to share Yan Huan's sleeping photo. Just then the homeroom teacher stepped in.
"Quiet, everyone. Announcement—we're starting five minutes early."
"What?!"
"Other classes aren't!"
The teacher cut through the groans. "Seats. Now."
Like birds to roost, the students scattered. An Le finally reclaimed her chair. She lifted her head just enough to glimpse Park Seo-mun's screen—and froze. The candid shot of the sleeping, beautiful boy seized her gaze; her throat bobbed, cheeks pinking.
Park Seo-mun felt the stare, twisted around with disgust, and shielded her phone.
"Gross."
"..."
An Le bit her lip and ducked her head again. Beneath the desk, pale fingers worried at her skirt hem, stung by the single word. Under her sleeve, a ghostly serpent tattoo stirred against her skin, writhing with her emotions.
Gurgle-gurgle~
Huh?
An Le blinked, searching for the source of that phantom sound. Meanwhile the teacher spoke.
"Today a new student is transferring into Class C. Let's welcome her."
Clap-clap—scattered applause. An Le joined in.
Through her lashes she watched a golden-haired, statuesque girl stride in, chin high. At the podium she swept her gaze over the class, flashed a sharp canine tooth, and said lazily,
"I'm Aria Spencer. Your new classmate—nice to meet ya."