Chapter 28: Where Is He?

“If I don’t study all this,” Alan said quietly, “how could I walk forward with you?”

The boy’s voice brushed past her ear.

Nozomi Sakura froze. Her heart twisted, then she quickly looked away.

She couldn’t bring herself to meet Alan’s eyes.

So that’s why they all adore you.

Back then… you must have said the same thing to them, too.

Her hands clenched tightly on her lap, nails biting into her palms.

Damn it.

I’m supposed to be the one conquering him, so how did I…

End up being the one who got moved instead?

She lifted her cup, swallowed a mouthful of coffee to force the turmoil down, then asked the question she had rehearsed long before coming here.

“By the way… what do you usually do, exactly?”

“Hm?” Alan glanced at her. “Why the sudden curiosity?”

“I just realized I barely know you.” She frowned faintly. “I don’t even know your hobbies or habits. When friends ask about you, the best I can say is, ‘Handsome, pretty smart, hates green peppers and scallions…’”

Nozomi sighed, worrying her lower lip. “It feels like I’m in a fake relationship.”

“……”

Alan thought for a moment. “My everyday life isn’t anything special.”

“That’s only how it looks to you.” She tilted her head slightly. “I might find it interesting. I heard you’re in the kendo club?”

“Yeah.”

He nodded, about to elaborate, when the phone on the table suddenly buzzed.

Bzzzt.

The screen lit up, pulling both their gazes toward it.

[Kendo Club President]

Nozomi’s eyes sparkled.

Alan frowned. Why would the president be calling him now?

He answered. A gravelly voice burst out immediately.

“Alan, you didn’t come to practice today?”

“Something came up at the last minute.”

“Uh…” Clearly not expecting that, Makoto hesitated. “Is it super, super, super important?”

The triple emphasis made Alan’s brow pinch together. “What happened?”

“C School’s kendo club is here today for a coaching session. And the exhibition match draw… pulled your name.”

“Huh? I’m not even there. How could they draw me?”

Makoto scratched his head, his face scrunching in distress.

“Even if you ask me, I’ve got no clue. Your name wasn’t on any of the slips. You shouldn’t have been picked at all…”

“……”

Listening to the absurd explanation, Alan couldn’t help asking, “You’re joking, right, President? Just redraw the lot.”

“Why would I joke about something like this?”

Makoto’s voice snapped serious, then softened into a sigh.

“We redrew. Your name came up again…”

He paused, sounding genuinely puzzled.

“Alan, do you know someone in C School’s kendo club? Someone says they saw you here. Where are you right now?”

Alan glanced sideways at Nozomi. “At a café. On a date.”

“Forget the date!” Makoto blurted. “I’ll treat you later—coffee, canned oolong, anything—just come over now!”

Before Alan could retort, Makoto continued in a rush.

“Which café? You’re still nearby, right? I’ll hop on my bike and come get you!”

“No need for that. I’m at the closest one.”

Makoto brightened instantly. “Perfect! I’ll put you last in the lineup. Hurry!”

The call ended without giving Alan a chance to refuse.

Nozomi, who had been leaning in shamelessly to eavesdrop, straightened up. “Club stuff?”

Alan nodded. “Yeah. They somehow drew me for today’s coaching match. Feels strange.”

“Are you going?”

She pursed her lips briefly. “I’ve been watching a drama lately. The heroine does kendo. Could I tag along and watch?”

***

Nino Kitagawa pressed her face to the bus window, her pulse racing at the thought of seeing him again.

Even the possibility of taking a men strike head-on had never thrilled her like this.

Her heart felt trapped, pounding violently against invisible bars, heat creeping into her cheeks.

She stayed glued to the glass, her nose nearly flattened against it.

Screeech.

The bus lurched to a stop. Nino jolted forward. Just as she was about to dash out, she saw the aisle clogged with people.

An idea flashed.

She slid the window open, grabbed her shinai, and jumped.

“Wha—?!”

“Captain! Someone jumped out the window!”

“Huh?!”

Miyuki froze halfway through unpacking equipment, mouth hanging open.

We’re parked. Why jump like she’s storming a fortress?

Hearing the commotion, Miyuki rushed down the steps. The figure standing calmly on the pavement was Nino Kitagawa.

Miyuki exhaled in relief and marched over. “Nino, why did you jump—”

She stopped short when she noticed the flush on Nino’s cheeks.

“Nino… your face is red. Are you that excited?”

“Excited…?” Nino tilted her head.

Something flickered in her clear eyes. She pressed a hand to her chest and murmured softly.

“So that’s why it’s so loud…”

Thirty-seven days.

That was how long it had been since she last saw him.

But it had been one hundred and seventy-eight days since he last saw her.

Which meant, in truth, they had been apart for two hundred and fifteen days.

Being a couple like this… whether it’s me or Alan, we’re both pathetic.

I’m an assassin, not a vampire, but after two hundred days without sunlight, all the energy I stored up is gone. Even my chest feels flatter…

Nino Kitagawa rubbed her chest unconsciously, Akari Hojo’s image flashing through her mind.

Regret flickered in her eyes.

It’s all her fault.

She stole the energy that was supposed to be mine from Alan.

Thief.

If Alan and I hadn’t broken up… as an assassin, I wouldn’t have had a choice but to eliminate her.

***

Inside the club building, Nino followed Miyuki up the final flight of stairs, sticking so close she nearly stepped on the president’s heels.

The hand that usually held her heavy shinai steady trembled faintly.

When Miyuki opened the rooftop dojo door, Nino slipped past her and planted herself at the front, scanning the room like a hawk searching for prey.

Her gaze swept from the lower left corner to the far right, skimming over every face.

The silhouette she had carried in her heart for weeks wasn’t there.

The thrill in her chest cooled into disappointment, and the light in her eyes dimmed.

Akari Hojo’s teasing voice echoed in her mind from two days ago.

“If you go, you’ll definitely run into him.”

So he’s not here.

Is he avoiding me?

“Hm?” Miyuki tilted her head. Noticing the downturn of Nino’s lips, she asked, “What’s wrong? Nino, are you hungry?”

Nino sniffed, lifted her gaze, and raised two pale fingers like surrender flags.

“I’m in a bad mood today. Two onigiri will be enough.”

“Only two?” Miyuki blinked. “You must really be upset. I’ll get them in a minute—”

“Mm.”

Nino nodded, her high ponytail swaying gently behind her.

She cast another glance around the kendo club, puffed her cheeks slightly, then asked in a soft voice, “President, later when we draw lots… can I be the one to do it?”

“You want to draw?” Miyuki asked, surprised. “Why all of a sudden?”

“Er…” The question stumped her. Nino scratched her temple, thought until her brain nearly squeaked, then tugged at Miyuki’s sleeve, eyes shining.

“Can’t I?”

Looking into those clear, guileless eyes—especially when they took on that kicked-puppy shimmer—refusal was impossible.

“All right,” Miyuki relented.

“You can.”

Nino’s eyes lit up like twin lanterns. She flashed five slim fingers. “President, I feel better now. Five onigiri later.”

“……”

Miyuki pressed her lips together, already regretting her soft heart. She eyed Nino’s flat stomach. “No way. Three. Max.”

“Okay.”

Saku, who had been listening to Miyuki’s briefing, stared at the girl bent over the sign-up table, scribbling names with one hand while stuffing rice balls into her mouth with the other.

“You’re saying she’ll take part in the men’s instructional exhibition match?”

He studied Nino more carefully.

She was tall for a girl—well over 170 centimeters—but kendo was still kendo. There was a reason men’s and women’s divisions existed. The gap in training volume and raw physicality was enormous.

Miyuki nodded, reading his thoughts. “Don’t worry. Nino’s our ace. She won gold last year.”

Saku’s brows shot up.

That sounded like boasting.

“That good, huh?”

“You’ll see. And honestly, if Nino hadn’t asked, we wouldn’t have put her in this exhibition at all.”

Saku understood. The club was divided into casual members and the competitive squad. The latter trained under paid coaches, their workload far heavier.

If Nino was truly that strong, using her to demonstrate basics would be excessive.

Seeing Miyuki’s confidence, Saku nodded. “Then I’ll look forward to it.”

At the table, the volunteer signaled that the draw was ready. Saku stepped forward. To prevent cheating, each school drew from the other’s box.

Nino stood at the edge, eyes locked on Saku’s hand.

When he unfolded the slip and her name appeared, a spark flashed in her gaze. With a subtle flick of her sleeve, she palmed another slip and theatrically drew it out.

She unfolded it hastily.

Alan.

Saku blinked. At first, nothing seemed wrong.

But when he called the name—once, twice, three times—no one answered.

A quick glance around confirmed Alan wasn’t even in the hall.

Saku turned to the vice-president. “Tazawa, where’s Alan?”

Tazawa scratched the back of his head. “No idea.”

“……” After a moment, Saku offered Miyuki an apologetic smile. “Looks like he’s not here. Maybe the name was written wrong?”

Miyuki shrugged. “Let’s draw again.”

She turned to Nino. “One more time.”

“Okay.”

Nino answered mechanically, eyes darting as she plunged her hand back into the box. Another flick of the sleeve.