Hoping to Get Closer - 2

In a quiet cafe in the capital, Yuria and I had ducked into a nearby spot to escape the cold snap. We'd ordered simple drinks and were gazing out the glass window at the chilly wind beyond, letting out a sigh.

"Warm places are the best, huh? After over two hours outside, even something this small feels like a blessing."

"Hic..."

"People really only appreciate life's little things after suffering a bit."

Even I, who felt bad for Yuria, was still miffed about standing outside for an hour, so I eyed her hiccuping self and vented about that lonely hour in a sorrowful tone.

"It's cold..."

A little time passed, and our drinks began arriving on the small round table. When the carrot cake Yuria liked from the novel and two cups of warm yuja tea appeared, I flashed a kind smile at the server and thanked them.

"Thanks for bringing it so quickly."

"Y-yes..."

The server's face flushed red as they accepted the 3-gold tip I handed over, bowing politely. I smiled again.

Ignoring Yuria, who couldn't lift her head, I cupped the steaming teacup in both hands, gave a warm smile, and spoke once more in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that sad voice.

"My frozen hands are finally thawing."

"Hic... I'm sorry."

"No, it's fine."

Yuria mumbled in a tiny voice without looking up. Her muttering screamed that she wanted to crawl into a mouse hole, but my wounded heart wasn't healing easily.

A wicked thought to tease her a bit more crossed my mind, but since she'd probably burst into tears if I kept going, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I decided to stop the prank. I carefully set the teacup down on the table.

"You must've been freezing, right?"

"Y-yes..."

Yuria nodded timidly at the mention of the cold. I tossed out a light apology.

"Sorry for teasing you. My personality's just too twisted—I can't help poking fun."

"No... It was my fault..."

Yuria bowed her head and apologized again.

"...I'm really sorry. It sounds like an excuse, but I must've lost my mind from drinking too much yesterday."

"It's okay. Things like that happen. I've done it a few times myself—like asking you to bring chocolate when you came over. If you're really sorry, we can call it even with that one mistake I made to you before."

It was a casual remark, but loaded with weight. This meeting had stemmed from drunkenness, after all. Thinking I needed to lighten the emotional load a bit, I was glad to wipe one debt off the slate for her.

Yuria paused at my words, then nodded awkwardly.

"But today, I'll pay."

Yuria declared she'd open her wallet today. What an arrogant thing to say. It scratched at a man's pride.

From what I remembered, Yuria's finances weren't great. Adventurer father. Living off scholarships. Barely scraping by at school, and now she wanted to pay? Knowing her wallet situation well, I straightened up and firmly rejected her offer.

"What are you talking about?"

"Huh...?"

"A man's wallet thickness is his pride."

Even if it meant installments, pulling out the wallet was a man's pride. I made it clear I had no ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠intention of freeloading off her.

If I hadn't settled up with Malik yet, I'd have snatched it up, but now my wallet was flush as Young & Rich. A little splurge was fine.

Yuria hung her head and couldn't continue.

"I could pay..."

"I'll just accept the thought."

"Thank you..."

"No problem. But if you open your wallet today, I'll mooch off you forever after—your choice."

"Huh?"

"Once a man's pride crumbles, it can't stand again."

I cracked a light joke to ease the sunken mood. Smiling at Yuria, I forgave her tardiness.

Everyone's late sometimes, sleeps in—hell, I was late too, I lied as an excuse and offered her some small comfort.

"Anyway, thanks for coming out today. I had nothing going on, but you made it meaningful."

"No... I asked you."

Yuria echoed my thanks. Her small, creeping voice carried a faint tremble.

"Thank you for coming."

And so our "hoping to get closer" began. I looked up at the hazy favorability window above Yuria's head.

Last time I'd checked, her favorability was at '-81'—a massive improvement after so long. At this rate, I could leech off the world's future top powerhouse in my old age.

Slowly blooming the conversation like a flower, I started chatting with Yuria.

What to talk about? Remembering the novel and real life, I pondered deeply.

Her liked topics seemed wholesome. I'd mostly chatted unwholesomely about stepping on ladies or whatever, but Yuria preferred moral stuff.

Flowers? Dolls? Academy life, maybe.

After careful thought, I opened my mouth.

"You look pretty today."

Best to start with that.

*

In a certain hospital in the capital, the Desmont family waited solemnly for their turn, watching patients enter the exam room with serious expressions.

The old Desmonts would've summoned a doctor to the mansion, but after a year of hardship, they'd learned frugality. Despite their wealth, they queued patiently—killing two birds with one stone by dating Olivia too.

"Next, patient number 3."

Olivia eyed the nurse calling the next patient and asked Darbav.

"Daddy, that's not us?"

"No, we're 4. Next is us."

"Nuh-uh."

Olivia showed Darbav the paper marked '3'. He looked puzzled.

"What the...?"

Darbav checked his own number 4 ticket. A bad feeling hit him about why Olivia had that one, so he asked his darling daughter.

"Nice sleight of hand."

"Didn't steal it."

"What...!?"

Olivia pointed at Darbav's ticket. "This is the one you drew." Then she clutched her number 3 to her chest proudly. "This is mine."

"No..."

Darbav's eyes welled up red.

"You drew it yourself without stealing...? You've grown, Olivia."

"Yeah. Tried to snatch number 2, but Ricardo would've scolded me."

At his grown daughter's sight, Darbav covered his eyes and looked up.

"Daddy crying?"

"No. Just dust in my eye."

Kyle, who'd been silently gripping the handle of Pexri 1, spoke to Olivia in a trembling voice.

"Olivia."

"Yeah?"

"Did you draw the ticket? With your own hand?"

Olivia nodded like it was obvious.

"Ricardo taught me. Draw a number at shops or banks before going in."

The old Olivia would've barged in, saying "My turn, I'm busy." Proud of her newfound patience, Kyle stared blankly at his number 5 ticket, quivering with emotion.

"You're all grown up..."

"Yup."

Kyle swallowed his swelling pride and nodded.

"Let's go..."

He pushed the wheelchair toward the exam room. And then—a cheeky green head cut past Kyle and Darbav, heading inside.

Olivia gawked at the boldly striding green-haired guy.

"My turn?"

"Yeah."

"Right?"

Olivia asked again.

"But what's with that cutter?"

"...Yeah."

"That fucking asshole..."

The Desmonts advanced as one toward the green-haired youth. Darbav and Kyle for interrupting their glorious moment. Olivia just 'cause she was pissed.

With murderous intent, they stood behind the green-haired boy.

Lead Kyle handed Olivia's wheelchair handle to Darbav and said very calmly to the guy.

"Hey, greenie."

"What?"

"Wanna get hospitalized?"

Ruin turned, meeting Kyle's menacing glare.

"What?"

Kyle stared at Ruin and said curtly.

"Get hospitalized."