novelraw Chapter 20
Chapter 20
Chapter 20
Click!
The shutter sounded the instant Spencer's finger brushed the screen, freezing the chaotic scene inside the equipment room.
Sakuramiya's black hair was tousled from their tight embrace moments earlier.
Her uniform hung askew, and she pressed a hand to her temple as though her head were splitting, half-crouched on the floor.
In front of her, Yan Huan shielded the side of his own face, fingers tangled in disheveled bangs.
The aftershock of that sudden migraine still left his eyes unfocused; through the strands of hair he stared at the blonde girl who had just lifted her phone.
The whole tableau reeked of something unspeakably intimate.
A pang of pain lanced through his skull again and memory flashed—Saturday's glimpse of this girl, the keychain that had seemed tugged by unseen hands, and now the second ambush.
She's definitely the new host.
"Hey!"
He snapped out of it, voice sharp enough to cut glass.
Spencer glanced at the photo—at Yan Huan's beautiful, if slightly disheveled, face—then grinned like a devil baring a single pointed canine.
Without a shred of guilt she pocketed the phone and casually tossed a basketball into the room.
"Oops, sorry for interrupting your little moment. I'll be on my way."
She spun on her heel and sprinted off.
Yan Huan lunged after her, then hesitated, looking back at Sakuramiya still clutching her head.
He knelt beside her, worried the Modifier might have left strange side effects.
After all, his own resistance had barely blunted the pain—how was she holding up?
What he didn't know was that the headache was the price of resisting memory loss.
Sakuramiya felt nothing at all; she was simply studying the girl who had shattered her Boundary.
Years of careful camouflage had made her paranoid, and the breach had every alarm in her mind shrieking.
No matter what had happened, lying low was the only safe play.
She swore inwardly never to use her ability in front of others unless she was absolutely certain she wouldn't be exposed.
So she gave a flawless performance.
"I—I'm fine. What happened? We came to return equipment, then suddenly..."
Seeing that Sakuramiya's memory was gone too, Yan Huan grew certain the blonde girl was responsible.
He shook his head.
"I'm not sure either. Last thing I remember is being locked in here. That must have been her doing. I'll bring her back."
"Wait—President!"
Sakuramiya reached out instinctively.
If that girl could break her Boundary, who knew what else she could do?
If she turned on Yan Huan...
No, no, no.
"We should find security first, President. She's wearing our PE uniform—she's a student. She can't get far."
Yan Huan shook his head.
"By the time we fetch security she might've copied or deleted those photos. I don't care about my reputation, but you could be in serious trouble if they leak."
Sakuramiya froze.
Yes—her reputation wasn't just her own.
The political family back home scrutinized every scrap of news.
Even studying abroad wouldn't shield her from scandal if the photos surfaced.
Having visited her Linmen villa and known her half a year, Yan Huan understood enough.
More importantly, he had business with the Modifier and didn't want to drag Sakuramiya into it.
Two expert actors, each shielding the other from supernatural danger, spoke in perfect unison:
"I'll catch her fast; you alert security."
"I'll go with you, President."
Yan Huan shook his head.
"You're still light-headed. You'd slow me down."
He turned and sprinted away.
"Wait—"
Sakuramiya reached out, face pale, but he was already gone.
A knot of dread tightened in her stomach; instinct screamed that letting the President confront that girl alone could end badly.
She forced herself upright, only to sway as blood rushed from her head.
And she really, really needed the restroom.
Hand pressed to her temple, Sakuramiya staggered into the corridor, but Yan Huan had vanished.
"Meow-chan!"
"Meow?"
Outside the gym Yan Huan tore across the grounds, calling silently for the black cat.
A lithe shadow burst from the bushes, keeping pace with him.
"What's up, meow?"
"I've found the third host—one of our students! Same girl who made Ye Shiyu drop her keychain on Saturday. She just hit us with a Modifier. Meow-chan, where is she now?"
The cat, having memorized the girl's scent over the weekend, sniffed the air and dashed ahead.
"This way!"
Guided by Meow-chan, Yan Huan reached the teaching building.
Classes had ended half an hour earlier; most students had gone home or to club activities.
The corridors stood empty.
Meow-chan skidded to a stop outside a door and looked back.
"It's here, meow!"
Yan Huan glanced at the sign and hesitated.
"Girls' Locker Room."
Hopefully no one else was inside.
He noted the broken lock, clear scuff marks from a kick—the same method she'd used on the equipment-room door.
After school, both the equipment room and the locker room were locked.
Arriving half an hour late to return the ball and change clothes, she'd naturally found herself barred.
A normal student would have left or fetched staff.
Only she would kick in two doors in a row—a small window into a very nasty temperament.
"Meow-chan, hide yourself. I'm going in."
"Meow~"
Yan Huan stepped inside without hesitation.
One: those photos of Sakuramiya and him had to be erased.
Two: while his resistance could still blunt most Modifier effects, he needed intel on the device's powers and the host's desires.
Retreat now would only give the enemy time to snowball.
Past the entrance, a corner opened into a spacious chamber split by rows of lockers into narrow aisles.
Silence hung heavy, broken only by the mangled lock behind him.
Without that damage, he might have doubted anyone was here at all.
Thud.
As Yan Huan sized up the room, something clattered to the floor and rolled—a plastic water bottle. He started toward it, but a pale arm shot out from the side corridor.
Bang!
A palm slammed against the locker beside him, blocking his way.
Yan Huan raised an eyebrow and turned to face the blonde girl grinning at him with open mischief. Spencer's canine tooth peeked past her upper lip, impossible to ignore.
"Following me into the girls' locker room—bold move, President."
She'd just changed: a white graphic tee clung to her, black athletic shorts hugged her hips, and she hadn't bothered with socks or shoes. Bare feet planted on the tiles, she leaned in as if to pin him against the lockers. At five-three, though, she had to tilt her head to meet his eyes, which left Yan Huan looking down at her unruly golden hair with his usual calm.
"Phone," he said.
"What phone?"
"The one you used to take pictures."
Spencer cocked her head; a few strands of blond fell across her sharp, predatory face. Blue eyes glinted through the fringe like sunlight off broken glass—bright and dangerous, the way tequila turns lemonade into trouble. Even indoors, her hair seemed to catch a spotlight.
"Yeah, I took some. So what?"
A ripple—soundless, scentless—flowed from her and wrapped around Yan Huan before he could brace himself. Suddenly the girl looked taller, her smirk more obnoxious, her voice grating.
"Is that photo really so important to you?"
The words wanted to spill out of his mouth of their own accord.
The photo isn't important to me, but it is to Sakuramiya. Whatever it takes—delete it. For Sakuramiya I'd—
Yan Huan's mind lurched. Thanks to Resistance he could watch the compromised corner of his psyche like a spectator: half disgusted by Spencer, half desperate to protect Sakuramiya, and entirely off balance. It felt like being the heroine of a bad soap opera.
No way—her Modifier is—
He cut the thought off.
Spencer stepped back, flicking her phone so the screen flashed between them. There it was: Sakuramiya crouched beside crash mats, eyes wide, hand reaching toward Yan Huan's shoulder—an innocent moment turned damning evidence.
"So gentle with your girlfriend on the weekend, yet here we are on Monday, you and the vice-president alone in the equipment room. Now I remember—you're the famous Yan Huan, student-council president. Imagine the headlines."
She lifted her chin, the words Yan Huan had half expected now delivered with relish.
"President Yan, you wouldn't want this picture making the rounds, would you?"
Whoa—run, the bulls are loose!
Spencer's heroic proportions, her wolfish grin, the golden hair—everything slid into place like a meme he'd once laughed at. Back then the joke was: most people identify with the guy stealing the girl, a few with the guy getting cucked—and gods identify with the heroine.
Right now Yan Huan felt like writing a thesis: Why Yan Huan Is a God.
He had the gist of her power; the thoughts bubbling up told the rest. But she must have another trick—how else had she built that locked-room scenario?
Problem: he couldn't reveal Resistance. He had to play along.
Good thing Spencer didn't know he and Sakuramiya were only friends. Sakuramiya didn't like him that way; he harbored no designs on her either. Nobody had been "cucked."
Time to act.
Perfect Expression Management—activate.
Disgust, anger, worry for Sakuramiya—he let them all flood his face. Spencer's pupils dilated with excitement. Yes, President, you belong to someone else. That makes taking you worth it.
She licked her lower lip, waiting.
After a beat Yan Huan's cold mask cracked into a sigh. He glanced sideways at Spencer.
"What do I have to do for you to delete Sakuramiya's photo?"
The wicked curve of Spencer's smile sharpened to a peak—then collapsed into blank confusion.
Wait... what exactly did she want him to do?
Deep down she knew: the patient smile Yan Huan had shown Ye Shiyu on the weekend—that was what she wanted to steal. But was a smile enough?
No. Something more precious hid behind it. Spencer felt it instinctively, yet her mind stumbled, unable to name the prize. She scratched her chin, thinking hard. The effort only made her irritable.
"Ugh—haven't decided yet. I'll tell you when I do."
She spun to leave. Yan Huan caught her wrist before she could vanish.
Spencer's face darkened, veins bulging along her forearm. She looked ready to maul him.
"What are you doing?!"
For a moment Yan Huan felt like he'd grabbed a lion by the paw—this girl was strong. Instead of holding on, he used her momentum, stepping in close.
Bang!
He mirrored her earlier move, palm slamming the locker behind her, caging her retreat.
She actually dared to flip the script and pin me against the wall?!
Spencer tilted her head back; the height difference meant she had to if she wanted to meet Yan Huan's eyes.
His face was cold. "Just you wait. I don't even know your name or your class, and you think you can walk away?"
"Oh? And what if I insist on leaving?"
Spencer, when angry, loved firing off rhetorical questions.
But the moment Yan Huan blocked her path, he'd already formed a rough guess about what she wanted. Whenever Sakuramiya Hitomi's name came up, Spencer's face lit up like a switchboard.
Her expressions were a direct feed to her thoughts—whatever she felt showed up instantly. Right now, for instance, the sneer and the bristling hair screamed irritation.
So Yan Huan decided to exploit that obvious trigger. First priority: make her delete the photo.
He looked at Spencer, features carved from ice and disgust, yet his gaze still flicked away as he said, "The girl you saw last weekend isn't my girlfriend. She's my older sister. The only person I like is Sakuramiya. Period."
"Delete the picture with Sakuramiya and I'll owe you a favor. Refuse, and if Sakuramiya gets hurt because of it, I swear this isn't over."
As expected, the storm on Spencer's face eased, replaced by that familiar, hungry spark. The more Yan Huan proclaimed his devotion to Sakuramiya, the stronger her urge to steal became. Hearing that he was loyal, not cheating, only fanned the flames.
Come on, serve him up—the boy who loves one girl and one girl only!
Spencer's tone softened; she wasn't half as mad anymore. "No dice. What if you go back on your word after I delete it?"
Yan Huan had guessed right; the tactic worked.
"Take a new photo of me instead. We're in the girls' locker room, right? I'll comply with your condition, then you delete the old one."
He hesitated, seemingly worried about his reputation—until his feelings for Sakuramiya rendered the worry trivial. He would sacrifice himself to protect Sakuramiya's image.
"Just make sure Sakuramiya never finds out," he added.
"Deal." Spencer grinned wide enough to split her face. "By the way, I'm Aria Spencer, newly transferred to Year 1 Class C."
She lifted her phone and snapped a picture of Yan Huan right in front of him. Then, with deliberate slowness, she deleted the original.
"Recently Deleted folder too," she chirped.
"Fine, whatever you say, President Yan."
"Cloud backup?" he pressed.
"Nope." She cocked her head. "You really like Sakuramiya that much, huh?"
He couldn't be bothered to answer. Once every possible copy was gone, he finally exhaled.
To Spencer, that sigh was as good as a signed confession. She waved him off, satisfied, and perched on the bench to tug on her white socks.
Yan Huan didn't spare her another glance. He turned and left, already sketching a mental profile: This girl's not too bright.
He didn't actually care if the photo leaked—he could spin the story a dozen ways, and Sakuramiya knew the truth. Besides, he had no intention of letting the picture surface; the so-called "favor" was just another lever for farming Modifier fragments. He'd learned more about the Modifier's effects and, as a bonus, erased Sakuramiya's photo. Zero-cost win-win.
Disappointed, Spencer drifted away, taking not a single cloud with her.
"President!"
Outside the locker room, Yan Huan ran straight into Sakuramiya Hitomi, who'd just finished leading campus security on a wild-goose chase. She hurried over, concern written across her face. "How did it go?"
"I found her. She deleted it in front of me."
"She... actually deleted it?" Sakuramiya sounded skeptical. The girl who had shattered her Boundary with a kick had simply... given up?
She trusted Yan Huan—if he said the photo was gone, it was gone—but she worried Spencer might have hidden copies, just like Sakuramiya herself might have done.
Before she could press further, Spencer strolled out of the building, shoes changed, a wicked smirk in place. The sight of Sakuramiya widened that grin.
Sakuramiya felt a chill crawl up her spine.
Spencer sauntered up beside Yan Huan, glanced at him—he ignored her—and addressed Sakuramiya. "Relax. I followed the president's orders and deleted it. Sorry, didn't mean any harm, Vice-President Sakuramiya."
She lingered on the word "Vice-President."
Sakuramiya kept her face blank for exactly one second. Then she turned to the security guards and pointed. "That's her. She's the one who kicked in the equipment-room door."
"Miss, please come with us. We need to call your parents."
Spencer blinked, stunned, as several guards closed in. She shot a pleading look at Yan Huan. "President...?"
Yan Huan only yawned, eyes half-lidded, and let the guards haul her away.
"Hey, I'll pay for the door, okay?!"
"Do we really have to call my parents?!"
"Hello? Are you even listening to me?!"