harleyscars Page 18
Page 18
Nagasaki Motoyo, enduring the pain, pressed the button for the 45th floor. The elevator smoothly and slowly ascended.
"Ding."
Upon reaching the 45th floor, Koshimura helped Nagasaki Motoyo out of the elevator. The corridor was carpeted with soft carpets, and at the end was a door that looked very high-end.
"It's...here." She felt a little better and tried to stand up straight. "This is all you need to do. Thank you so much, Koshimura-kun. I can manage on my own..."
Before she could finish speaking, Yuecun Ze skillfully traversed the corridor and led her to the door.
Seemingly noticing the confusion in her eyes, Yuecun Ze explained, "Actually, I also live in this building, right downstairs from yours."
"Ugh?"
Motoyo Nagasaki felt that she had broken her record for the number of times she had said "Huh?" today.
You mean the person who saved my life on the street happens to live in the same neighborhood as me? In the same building? And we're even neighbors living on different floors?
The overwhelming amount of information overwhelmed her already confused mind, which was still reeling from the pain and shame. She could only stare blankly at Yuecunze, then at the door of her house, and suddenly felt a strong sense of absurdity.
Yuecunze didn't seem to think there was anything wrong with it. The poor live with Xiangzi, and the rich live with Sushi. Isn't this the underlying logic of Bang Bang fanfiction?
Seeing that Nagasaki Motoyo was still standing there dumbfounded, he assumed she was in a lot of pain and asked, "Where's the key? I'll open the door for you."
Nagasaki Motoyo was still in an out-of-body state when she subconsciously took out her house key from the side pocket of her schoolbag and handed it over.
Koshimura took the key, inserted it into the lock naturally, and turned it.
"Click."
The door opened.
A somewhat indescribable smell, a mixture of stuffiness from a long period of poor ventilation and the lingering odor of food, wafted towards me.
The stench made Yuecunze feel as if he had returned to his high school dormitory, and he almost couldn't catch his breath.
The moment the door opened, Nagasaki Motoyo seemed to suddenly remember something, and finally awoke from her petrified state, her face turning deathly pale.
"Wait! No..." She hurriedly stepped in front of him to stop him, but it was too late.
The door was pushed open shakily, and the light coming from the hallway illuminated the entryway.
The first thing that catches the eye is the mountain of cardboard boxes piled up at the entrance, seemingly with no intention of being thrown away at all.
Koshimura's gaze extended beyond the entryway into the living room—
Various takeout boxes and convenience store plastic bags were scattered on the floor, along with several sheet music books. On the table surrounded by sofas, several empty instant noodle containers were prominently displayed, one of which still had a disposable fork stuck in it.
The trash can next to it was obviously full, with several crumpled snack wrappers sticking out from the edge.
His gaze swept over the garbage scattered on the ground, then slowly returned to the pale-faced, swaying Nagasaki Motoyo beside him.
"ah...?"
A syllable filled with confusion and bewilderment came from his mouth.
Chapter Seventeen: One Person
In the messy living room, two people sat silently on the sofa, surrounded by a newly tidied open space.
The air seemed to solidify, pressing down so hard it was hard to breathe; only the wall clock ticked clearly in the deathly silence.
Nagasaki Motoyo lowered her head, her light brown hair falling down and obscuring her profile.
She awkwardly poked at the instant noodles in the bucket with her fork, glancing every now and then at Koshimura Sawa, who had slurped up the noodles in two bites and was now diligently wiping his mouth with a 20808 tissue.
This Nissin Tea isn't that great either. It doesn't even have the top-of-the-line "Flying and Sleeping" flavors. It feels... not as good as Master Kong's.
[So you rarely eat white elephants, right? I won't eat anything that isn't a white elephant.]
Sweetie, this is White Elephant Coriander Instant Noodles, eat it.
You seem to be going a bit too far.
"Um... I'm sorry... Koshimura-kun..." Her voice trailed off, "There's nothing much to eat at home... this is all I can offer you..."
"It's nothing. I'm used to being hungry when I was little, so I'm not picky about what I eat. Thank you for treating me to a meal. I was worried about what to eat at this time."
However, what was just a simple statement to him made Nagasaki Motoyo feel even more guilty.
She glanced at Yuecunze again and found him sitting stiffly, his gaze fixed on the small patch of clean floor beneath his feet, as if a knife-forging competition and hoof-repairing excavator-driving competition were playing on a loop, completely oblivious to the mountains of garbage around him.
Do not look at this part.
Just then, his gaze inadvertently fell on Nagasaki Motoyo, who was standing to the side.
It wasn't an accident.
She had taken off her delicate little leather shoes and put on indoor slippers. Her slender ankles were visible above the slippers.
The black nylon stockings accentuated the soft curves of her calves. Although they looked clean, the thought of them being inside those thick leather shoes all day...
First of all, I am not a friend of Zhou Yinlong Yiqi_Dead Wujiu"⒋（九）g@岜友.
Secondly, why am I drooling?
Let me reiterate that I am not a porridge enthusiast.
Koshimura casually wiped his drool with his sleeve, then pointed to her left foot: "Nagasaki-san, is your... foot alright?"
Upon hearing this, Nagasaki Motoyo subconsciously curled her toes, and a dull pain immediately shot through her ankle.
"Hiss..." She gasped, her brows furrowing. "It's alright... it just hurts a little, I'm afraid to use too much force."
"Let's take a look." Yuecunze stood up, naturally walked around a plastic bag next to the coffee table, squatted down in front of her, and suddenly noticed a problem.
"Um... it's not easy to see with socks on..." He felt himself starting to ramble.
Nagasaki Motoyo was stunned for a moment. A strong sense of shame made her want to refuse immediately, but seeing that the other person seemed even more flustered than herself, she bit her lower lip and hesitated for a few seconds. In the end, she slowly and carefully took off the sock on her left foot with her hands.
Great job, giraffe! Did you record that part?
That reminds me.
?
[A. "Nagasaki-san, could you give me your socks?"]
[B. Sister Su is so cool! She's done it, guys! Grab your socks and go for an epic lung-crushing experience!]
【C. "Miss Nagasaki, you don't want your classmates to know your feet smell, do you...?"】
The database secretly gave extra weight to the porridge bar.
Koshimura Sawa let out a long sigh as if accepting a fateful decision: "Ahem... Nagasaki-kun, could you give me your socks?"
I think this Koshimura Sawa is quite a character.
"Ugh?"
"Nothing, you heard wrong."
But I think I just...
"You heard wrong."
As the socks were removed, the translucent toes beneath the fabric were gradually revealed, their lines smooth and graceful, like a meticulously crafted work of art.
Her skin had a delicate, cool white hue, as if covered by a soft, thin glaze under the light, revealing the pale blue veins beneath, as exquisite and fragile as porcelain.
[Hey bro, you've grown up!]
"It's alright." After a brief examination, Yuecun Ze breathed a sigh of relief. "It's a little red, but not swollen yet. It should just be a common sprain. Just apply some ointment and get some rest. Do you have any liniment or anything like that at home?"
"...It's in the first drawer on the left under the TV cabinet." Nagasaki Motoyo seemed to think that things couldn't get any more embarrassing, so she became more relaxed and less pretentious.
Upon hearing this, Koshimura Sawa got up and laboriously made his way through the small mountain of plastic lunch boxes and garbage bags to the TV cabinet, where he opened a drawer.
Wait a minute, isn't Nagasaki Motoyo the mother character in our dog group?
Why do I feel like I'm the mother?
Nagasaki Motoyo has become a gloomy, reclusive girl; I can't even imagine what the others are like.
Our (choking up) Mygo... will become (choking up)... what will it look like (choking up)...?
The drawer was neatly organized, with a household first-aid kit on top. After a quick search, Yuecunze found the ointment labeled "sprains and bruises".
He knelt back down in front of her, unscrewed the cap, squeezed out some milky white ointment, and warmed it in his palm. A strong herbal aroma instantly filled the air.
"It might be a little cold, bear with it," he reminded her.
Nagasaki Motoyo's body suddenly stiffened. The coolness from her ankles and the warmth of the boy's hands, along with the stinging pain from being pressed, made her let out a soft groan.
She quickly bit her lip, turned her face away, her cheeks flushed red as if they were about to bleed.
Fortunately, the light was dim, so the other person couldn't see very clearly.
Speaking of which, his movements were surprisingly...very professional?
Although Nagasaki Motoyo was in excruciating pain, she could feel the bruising slowly dissolving.
This made her tense nerves relax a little, and she secretly sized up the boy in front of her. He had his head down, and the wisps of hair on his forehead covered his face, but the lines of his profile looked rather delicate in the dim lighting of the living room.
Koshimura Sawa, on the other hand, was completely focused, or at least appeared to be so, keeping his head down the whole time, his gaze fixed on his ankle, without making any unnecessary movements.
Just looking at it makes me want to eat three bowls of rice!
I knew it...
Only the soft breathing of the two remained in the living room, and the strange silence seemed to have somewhat diluted the previous awkwardness.
"Speaking of which, it's already this late, hasn't your mother come back yet?" Yuecun Ze asked casually as he applied medicine to her.
Oh no, I think I accidentally let it slip.
He shouldn't know about Nagasaki Motoyo's situation right now.
Nagasaki Motoyo stared at him blankly for a few seconds, then suddenly laughed.
"What are you talking about? I've been the only one here the whole time."
Chapter Eighteen Miracles
Koshimura suddenly felt something explode in his mind.
He then realized where that huge sense of unease came from.
The entryway was piled with garbage, the living room was a mess, and slippers were neatly arranged by the door, but there was only one pair.
He suddenly felt short of breath, and an indescribable sour feeling stuck in his chest.
Something vague yet familiar seemed to surface from his memory, pricking his nerves like steel needles, and a strong sense of unease instantly disrupted all his thoughts.
"Alright, the medicine is applied." Yuecunze abruptly withdrew his hand, hastily wiped away the remaining ointment, and put the cap back on.
He heard his voice tremble slightly, even with a barely perceptible hoarseness, and he quickly stood up, his movements as swift as if he were fleeing from something.
Taken aback by his sudden action, Nagasaki Motoyo's mask-like smile cracked slightly as she stared at him blankly.
Yuecun Ze didn't look at her. He grabbed the ointment, strode to the TV cabinet, and shoved it back into the drawer with a bang. Then he turned around, his back to the mountain of trash on the floor and the figure on the sofa, and walked straight to the entrance.
It wasn't until his hand was on the doorknob that the coldness of the metal briefly brought him back to his senses. As if he had finally made up his mind, he suddenly turned around.
The dim light cast a long shadow behind him.
His expression was somewhat somber as he looked at Nagasaki Motoyo on the sofa. His eyes no longer held the previous embarrassment or confusion, but rather an undeniable seriousness.
"It's getting late, I should go back." His voice wasn't loud, but it was clear and strong.
Nagasaki Motoyo subconsciously shrank her shoulders slightly, seemingly intimidated by his imposing presence.
Koshimura paused, took a deep breath, and continued, his tone resolute:
"I will come again after school tomorrow."
“Then we’ll clean all this stuff up together—” His gaze swept over the suffocating pile of garbage in the living room.
He looked into her eyes and said, word by word:
“Nagasaki Motoyo, your mother wouldn’t want you to be like this.”