Sweeter than Cake [MxM] [English Version]

01 / Antisocial Friend

"Rui, the food is ready!"

I had just finished putting on my school blazer when my mother screamed from the first floor. Like a psychic, my mother could tell when I was done getting ready each day. Maybe it's because I always wake up and get ready at the same minute every day. Or maybe my mother was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs every morning until I got out of the shower and.... Wait a minute... I think my mind is starting to wander.

Introducing my name is Rui Hemlock Oleander, an only child who lives alone with his mother. I don't know anything about my father. My mother never talked about Dad and there is not a single photo of Dad's face in this house. Almost all parts of my face are a copy of my mother. An oval face with shining kitten-like eyes and lips that were quite petite for a man. The only thing that may have been passed down from my father is my posture: broad shoulders and a height of 177 cm.

I have a bad habit that I can't get rid of since I was little, which is asking anything that could possibly happen. My mind can be likened to a tree root that branches and propagates in all directions. Messy and confusing. Sometimes I can't even stop my own thoughts, especially when something big is happening to me.

Not everything I thought was important. On the contrary, unimportant thoughts are thought of more often, such as: Will there be anything new today? Will today be fun? Will there be any problems today?

Subconsciously, I mumbled unimportant things running through my brain while brushing my brown hair in front of the mirror attached to the closet door.

"THUD!!"

Suddenly, my bedroom window closed tightly and made me gasp.

What's that? I thought as I approached the window to check it out. The jolt was quite strong and I was worried that my window glass would c***k. But upon inspection it turned out that nothing was cracked.

Still in amazement, I closed my window back in its proper position. When I looked down from the window, a cat was meowing and looking at me from beside a big tree in my yard. We looked at each other for a moment, but soon the animal drifted away.

"Naughty cat."

I accused the cat of being the culprit who had lowered the hook on my window and startled me. Then I went down from my room to the first floor, where I could see my mother being busy from early morning.

"Good morning, career woman," I greeted her as I put my sling bag on the dining table chair. The woman I called out turned around and gave a half-lipped smile that lifted. Even though it's been almost seventeen years of living alone with her, I still don't know if that smile is a sign of a mother's love or a sign of being helpless to have a child like me.

I walked up to the woman who was always angry when others called her my sister because of her ageless face. Luckily, the character of my face has declined from her, so I'm sure in twenty years I will be ready to be said to be youthful.

We have the same hair color, light brown as the color of our wooden floors, but with different lengths. Someone once imagined that if my hair were shoulder-length like Mom's, our faces would be exactly the same and that meant my face would fit into a girl's face. Yes... I don't need to imagine it, but for some reason that person's words always flashed for a moment when I saw Mother's face up close.

"Good morning, my naughty child. It's been quite noisy this morning," Mom said, discussing the sound of the window being shut loudly.

"Your youngest has acted annoyingly again. After closing the window loudly, he meowed at me proudly from the garden," I said, elicting a chuckle from Mother.

I bent down a bit to kiss his forehead and Mom was stroking my hair with her left hand, while her right hand was still holding the soup ladle. I took the tool from her hand and continued Mother's activities in preparing breakfast.

"I'm getting ready first, okay?" Mom said as she left the dining room which was attached to the kitchen.

She was going to the bedroom, which is next to the dining room on the first floor. I knew that she was going to her bedroom even though I didn't see her, because I can still hear the noise when Mom opens the cupboard, washes her face in the sink and so on.

As I moved the soup pot to the center of the dining table, I was still thinking about whether Mother could hear what I was doing in my room from the first floor. Is it possible that Mom always hears what I am doing in my room? My mind still dwells on the sensitivity of the human ear when Mother put her bag on the pantry table and then sat across from my seat.

Mom, who was originally dressed in pajamas and a tousled apron with ragged hair, is now ready to go to work. She wore a shirt covered in a blazer and an above-the-knee skirt in dark tones. Her curls were naturally flowing and the simple make-up looked more colorful on her eyelids, eyebrows and lips.

"How to be a high school student? Fun?" Mother asked, filling her two empty bowls with rice and soup.

"Because some students don't understand the Lynx situation, I still have to rack my brain to respond to their various responses. It's been a week and there are still many who are curious. But it's fun. Don't worry," I replied in a relaxed tone.

"That boy... always him." I could still hear Mom's muttering even though she seemed to be doing it unconsciously. Yes... it's always about the boy. Anyone who asks me, whether neighbors, people who work with my mother, or students at school will definitely ask me about that one person: Lynx Olivine.

Lynx and I have been friends since we were kids. In fact, we've interacted with each other since we were babies because my mom and Lynx's mom are good friends. Until now, wherever Lynx went, it almost had me with him. I'm with Lynx almost seven days a week and thirty days a month. You could say we were almost inseparable.

Even though the two of us have only been in high school for less than one month, our unnatural closeness must have attracted a lot of attention from the students at school. And what definitely raises a question mark is the fact that Lynx only wants to interact with me at school.

Medically, the symptoms experienced by Lynx lead to ASPD or what is commonly referred to as antisocial. Lynx doesn't care at all what her people are doing, even the teachers. He will easily avoid being greeted by his classmates and say he doesn't want to answer when asked by the teacher. This has been going on since we were elementary school students.

"There was a teacher who didn't know that Lynx was the youngest child of the Olivine family. So Lynx was called into the teacher's room and because I was the one who was there and not Lynx, the teacher nagged me.... 'Why didn't Lynx come?!' I just replied 'I was asked by Charlotte Olivine to take care of her child' and she just kept silent after hearing Lynx's mother's name was mentioned," I said explaining what happened a few days ago at school. I gave each sentence a different intonation so that the story sounded exciting and unconsciously my hands and face expressed as if I wanted to re-describe a scene that happened in real life.

"How can you have so much fun humiliating a teacher," Mother said with a smile and shaking her head.

I'm sure we both currently have the same thought that people in power will be respected by everyone. Friends of people in power will be affected as well, including the ease of interacting. It has become a very natural thing, so naturally we did not refuse the opportunity.

In contrast to Lynx, who tends to be quiet and withdrawn, I am quite challenged to solve social problems that will occur. So, even though Lynx's mother didn't ask me to accompany Lynx when I was in elementary school, I would still volunteer to be a combat tool to deal with Lynx's problems.

"Mom should see the stunned expressions of the teachers around her when I say Lynx's mother," I said as I started my breakfast with a spoonful of hot soup.

When Mother has to prepare food for the two of us early in the morning, cleaning up the tools after eating is my job. Mother approached me who was piling empty plates, then kissed my forehead.

"I'll go first."

After the sentence, Mom left me alone in the house. A few minutes later, there was the sound of the car starting and the sound disappeared as Mom left.

While Mom was driving herself, I still had to wait a few more minutes before the Lynx picked me up. The privilege of being delivered every day, of course, I take for granted. If I was given the more practical one, why should I do the more difficult one?

Exactly at seven AM, a Mercedes Benz was parked in front of our first floor house which had no fence. Every day this shiny black car is parked sweetly in front of my house so that it invites displeased glances from the neighbors.

After locking the door, I walked to the back of the car and opened it. Inside the luxury car was a middle-aged driver and, of course, it wasn't him whose name was Lynx. Then my little friend got right behind the driver's seat and made room next to it for my seat.

The Lynx in my childhood memory was a very shy child and would often tug at my sleeves wherever I went. How do I know that, in the end, the boy turned into a super cool figure in the eyes of everyone, who made me the center of attention along with him.

Lynx today has a height of 183 cm with a sturdy and bulky body but not to the point of forming large muscles in his arms. His black hair was parted sideways with a sharp eyebrow line supported by the corners of his eyes that were raised. Lynx naturally already has a firm and sharp-eyed character. Even when he threw his usual gaze, his eyes looked like they were about to strangle the other person. The proportion of the eyes, nose, and mouth to the shape of the face looks very balanced on Lynx's face, so that from her face it is very suitable to enter the world of modeling.

I had time to think whether there is a correlation between good looks and sweet food mania because the contents of his bag filled with candy, chocolate and flavored drinks can always run out in a day. If asked what disease Lynx will face when she grows old, I'd say diabetes. Just look now, he must be eating candy.

"Which flavor?" I asked spontaneously. I would always ask this question every time I saw Lynx's face at the beginning of our conversation. I understand this is absurd, but it's hard not to ask.

"Strawberry," Lynx replied curtly. And like the ritual we always do, Lynx will open another candy for me to eat. Lynx took a ball-shaped object with a red color from the small plastic wrap, then leaned closer to me. And opened my mouth spontaneously to let him put the candy inside.

As we got out of the car in the Johnson High school parking lot, people didn't look at us the way they did in front of my house. The reason, of course, was that almost all of their parents were prosperous, so the sight of the luxury car pacing back and forth was very natural.

Johnson High School students almost all come with cars and drivers. Most parents have businesses that are known nationally. Some are in the world of politics. Some are successful in the entertainment field, whether former artists, models, singers, or famous presenters. Although I don't fall into any of the above categories, I'm not the main character who is being bullied at school. No.

In class tenth-C, Lynx and I sat side by side at the very back desk and near the glass on the outside of the building. One of the practical things I do every day is translate Lynx's thoughts to people who ask him questions. And today happened just seconds after we were in our seats.

"Lynx and Rui, the task..." Before the class president could finish her sentence, I took out two books and pointed at the girl who was between my desk and Lynx. "Oh... Lynx's homework is on you too, huh?"

I just smiled dryly to indicate she didn't have to deal directly with Lynx. Just as I had one person in front of my eyes, a student from another class passed behind my seat and tried to talk to Lynx. Wow, two combos in the morning!

"Lynx Olivine . . . can you talk to me for a minute? A friend of mine wants to talk to you," said a girl with short blonde hair. I turned to Lynx and saw his face squinting into the window pane. The girl was quite surprised at Lynx's ignorance but tried to cover it up with pursed lips.

I saw this scene very often when I was in middle school. The same disappointed expression from someone who wanted to help bring their friend closer to Lynx but was completely ignored. Seeing this girl's slightly irritated face, I used to conclude that she was from second or third grade. Usually, their pride as upper classmen is tarnished from feeling neglected.

"Where's your friend? She can just talk to me," I said, inviting the girl to stop staring at Lynx's back. The girl was silent for a while, but before she could speak, I got up from my seat and walked towards the classroom door.

My prediction of walking out turned out to be right. A cute girl with long black hair was standing outside the classroom while occasionally looking inside. I have a hard time remembering people's faces, but this girl isn't from tenth grade and she's one of the girls that caught the eye because of being in a magazine as a student council member.

"Hey, wait!" said the girl with short hair trying to chase me out. I looked at her for a while, then turned back to the student council girl, who was dumbfounded at the unexpected figure in front of her.

"I'll be representing Lynx to answer . . . please," I said, trying to show courtesy and friendliness.

Even though I tried to make the conversation as well as I could, it turned out that good intentions weren't enough for the short-haired girl because she was already upset.

"Hey, Manna won't talk to you. She just wants to talk to Lynx! Where's your manners?!" said the short hair as he tugged at the sleeve of my blazer.

"Cath...it's okay," said the student council girl named Manna.

"It seems that those who want to talk don't mind. Besides, I've used polite words," I said casually, seeing the look of a girl who was frowning.

Manna tried to grab the arm of the girl called Cath but couldn't take her friend's eyes off me.

"Manna, this person is still not polite," said the short-haired girl, still looking angry at me.

"If he can't talk to me, then you guys can come back because Lynx can't talk to her," I said, looking at Manna, then at her friend, who started to budge.

Some students in class tenth-C have started to glance at us and some who are just about to enter the class look curious, so they stop in their tracks. Scenes like this aren't on my side because it's as if I made these two girls shamed. But I'm just doing my job on a whim. After all, I don't really care what people say after this.

"I'd like to take Lynx out to dinner this afternoon...you can come too," Manna said in a sweet voice unlike any of her friends. Oh my... why am I the one who feels guilty for making such a good girl disappointed because my antisocial best friend ignored her?

"Sorry I had to turn down your invitation on behalf of Lynx. But he never wants to eat with a lot of people," I said, lowering my head and then looked back at Manna, who looked disappointed.

"Ah . . . I see. It turns out that the rumors that the Lynx are unapproachable are true," said Manna, somewhat embarrassed.

I can only smile and look at one sweet girl who is hurting again. Of the many tasks I have to do, this is actually the most difficult case for me. Sweet girl. Polite. Kind. Even though it wasn't rejected by me, it was still my words that disappointed her. In my heart I'm sorry for Manna.

The two girls who were not from class tenth-C left. I didn't pay attention to the short-haired girl's expression again because my focus wasn't on her. But I could see the short-haired girl trying to calm Manna down by patting her on the shoulder as she walked. They turned up the stairs in the middle of the corridor and the two figures disappeared from my sight.

I walked into the classroom thinking of a better way to not disappoint the other good girls in the future. Should I say yes first, but reject afterwards? Do women prefer to be given a little hope first? Should I just try to approach her? Ah.. forget it. It's as if I'm disappointed now that I can't go after a girl like Manna just because I'm not a Lynx.

My mind stopped wandering when I saw someone staring at me from the left. Lynx, who was propping his head in his hands, was looking at me with an innocent face.

"She's a sweet girl. The only thing I do that makes me feel guilty," I said, returning a glance at Lynx.

Lynx makes a momentary smile but with unsmiling eyes, then he turns his head towards the window and his back to me. All right... he's annoying. I'm not going to get him a drink this afternoon.