Hashimoto Arina's smile froze for a moment before she quickly covered it up, nodding toward the nurse. "I see."
"Then I'll head back on my own," Shirakawa Natsu said. He didn't see himself as the hero of a tragic drama. If Arina didn't want him to know something, he had no intention of lurking around to prove it. If he wanted to understand, he would have to investigate quietly and observe the situation before drawing conclusions.
"It's fine," Arina said, turning her head away from him. "I'll be back soon."
"Okay." Natsu didn't ask any more questions. He walked to the side and sat down on a wooden bench.
Arina, in high heels, hurried along the corridor. Usually, when she left the ward, she would turn and wave at him. But this time, she didn't even glance back.
Natsu sat on the bench, closed his eyes, and let the May–June evening air wash over him. Dongguo's early summer was relatively cool, and now and then a stray breeze brushed his cheeks, bringing a momentary sense of calm. Yet today, the wind did nothing to soothe the unrest inside him.
His mind began to wander to improbable scenarios—novel-like situations where a heroine is coerced into dating, or where a sick family member relies on a rich second-generation benefactor.
"What the hell am I thinking?" Natsu muttered, shaking his head. "Reality isn't some melodramatic story."
He took a few deep breaths to calm himself. Shifting uncomfortably on the bench, he adjusted his position again. From time to time, he checked his phone. Time seemed to drag endlessly today.
Feeling anxious, he opened the app. The favorability rating was still 99%, and he relaxed slightly.
Half an hour passed. Night fell slowly, and streetlights flickered on around him. He lost count of how many times he checked his phone, looked up, and saw Arina appear in his line of sight.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, Natsu," Arina said, holding one side of her hair back. She tried to force her usual sunny smile, but the effort was obvious; her shoulders still trembled slightly.
"No, I'm actually happy to sit outside for a bit," Natsu said, reaching out to steady her by the shoulder.
Once he supported her, Arina's trembling subsided significantly. The two walked in silence back to the ward. She helped him settle in, making the bed. The ward had emptied—the muscular man and the elderly woman had been discharged, leaving Natsu in a single room.
"I want to rest early tonight," Natsu said, smiling at her. "Sister Youcai, you should head home and get some rest too."
"Okay," Arina nodded, slightly dazed.
As she turned to leave, Natsu called out suddenly, "Sister Youcai, I really liked today's bento!"
Arina froze for a moment, then smacked his head lightly. "Idiot brat."
After that, she turned and walked to the door, pausing to wave. "See you tomorrow."
The sound of her high heels faded along the corridor—lighter than when she had arrived.
Once she was gone, Natsu pulled out his phone. The app still showed 99% favorability. That was within his expectations; reaching 100% clearly required a specific trigger. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief—at least the app didn't display a strange six-digit decimal after 99. It seemed to calculate only whole scores.
Looking down the hallway, he noted that nurses hadn't yet started their rounds. He sent a video call to Yazhikui. After a few beeps, the connection established.
Yazhikui appeared, lying on her bed. One hand held the phone, the other draped lazily off-screen. Her collarbone and the edge of her chest were visible. It wasn't fully revealing, but it left room for the imagination.
"Hmm? What is it?" she asked, frowning.
"I wanted to chat. Is this a convenient time?" Natsu said, feigning impatience but showing approval that she picked up quickly. "Why are you in bed so early today?"
Yazhikui didn't answer immediately. She tapped something off-screen, and a woman's voice could be heard, followed by footsteps, the sound of putting on shoes, and a closing door. Only then did Yazhikui sit upright, casually covering herself with a thin blanket, the shape underneath clearly visible.
She placed the phone near her feet and ran her hands through her hair. "Is this about Hashimoto Yuna again?"
"Yes. A handsome guy in a Porsche came to the hospital looking for her today," Natsu said, summarizing the day. "What do you think I should do next?"
"There's no chance of winning. Let it go," Yazhikui said, tying her mid-length hair into a braid. She picked up her own phone. "Forget about whether you two could be together. If you were Hashimoto Yuna, who would you choose?"
Natsu was momentarily speechless.
"The reason you feel hurt is simple: jealousy," Yazhikui said, staring at him through the screen. "You feel she's yours, but someone else takes her. You don't see much love from her yet. When love occurs, you notice a perfect rival appearing nearby."
"Stop scolding me!" Natsu buried his face in his hands, overwhelmed. He knew Yazhikui was trying to persuade him—trying to make him see reason. He also understood that there was almost no possibility for him and Arina, given their circumstances. Even if she agreed to date him, it would never be because of love. But he wanted to try anyway, knowing the road was thorny and that the only way forward was to overcome the obstacles.
Seeing him cover his face, Yazhikui didn't push further. She grabbed a bottle of water, unscrewed it, and took a sip. Natsu noticed her teeth through the screen.
"Yazhikui… why are your teeth so sharp?"
She looked puzzled. "What?"
"Uh… never mind, probably just the video," he said, changing the subject. "You said Hashimoto Arina might not be dating that guy—or that they have another relationship?"
TV dramas always made these things simple: a few episodes, a misunderstanding explained in a single scene.
Yazhikui fell silent, and Natsu noticed something was off. She picked up the phone again and said seriously, "His name is Kimurahama. He and Hashimoto Arina have been childhood sweethearts—together since elementary school through university."
Natsu's chest tightened, but he forced a smile. "Is that true? I heard people at the hospital saying Sister Youcai is single."
Yazhikui's expression didn't change. Calmly, she said, "Arina grew up in the hospital. The director's daughter is her cousin."
Natsu remembered that Yazhikui had said she had a date with the dean's daughter yesterday—the same woman she had been with recently. He didn't want to meddle in others' affairs, but he felt a strange blockage in his chest.
He leaned back on the soft bed, made by Hashimoto Arina herself. His emotions were tangled and confusing.
Seeing his silence, Yazhikui didn't comment further. She grabbed a bag of potato chips, tore it open, and ate with quiet efficiency. Her cold, handsome demeanor—chewing with that deadpan expression—broke his sentimental mood entirely.
"You did this on purpose!" he shouted into the video, marveling at the contrast between childhood sweethearts and fleeting flings.
Mi Zhikui frowned. "What did you say?"
"Never mind. Forget it," he waved. The reality was not a TV drama. There was only one reason they couldn't be together: childhood bonds. Arina was beautiful, Kimurahama was handsome, drove a Porsche, and clearly matched her in every way. If there was a conflict, perhaps she agreed to try dating today, but their future together seemed inevitable.
Natsu wasn't naive—his brief, ambiguous feelings over a few days were meaningless compared to decades of history.
"God really toys with people; fate is full of drama," he muttered. The app had given him a task that was basically impossible.
"Kimurahama is already married. And his wife isn't Arina Hashimoto," Yazhikui added.
"What?!" Natsu shot upright in disbelief.
"When Kimurahama graduated university, he joined a club trip and accidentally fell off a cliff. He disappeared," Yazhikui explained slowly. "The rescue team searched the mountains, but found nothing."
"And then?" Natsu felt his mind twisting.
"Three months later, he appeared on the road and was rescued by a passing car," Yazhikui continued. "He had lost his memory and couldn't explain how he survived alone in the mountains. The person who rescued him eventually became his wife."
"What kind of story is this?!" Natsu was dumbfounded.
"Kimurahama is now a professor at Dongda University," Yazhikui said, putting down the potato chips. "Tomorrow, I'll go to the school and gather information about him."
"Thank you," Natsu said, genuinely moved. Yazhikui didn't support a relationship between him and Arina, but she still helped him tirelessly when he insisted.
That night, he dreamt again—not of Arina, but of Yazhikui.
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