Velvet Shadows And Sparked Tempers.
512 Words
The victory from the debate still echoed in whispers across campus by the next day—but for Haruto, it had only drawn unwanted attention. Especially from **Renji Kamisaka**, who now watched him like a hawk, as if waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
Haruto knew how this worked. In a place like Saint Avalon, humiliation wasn’t loud—it was *orchestrated*.
That moment came during lunch.
As Haruto entered the cafeteria, he immediately noticed the silence. Then, a laugh.
On the central digital bulletin board—used for school announcements—someone had posted a photoshopped image of Haruto in a servant's outfit, kneeling beside Aoi Tsukishima, her hand resting on his head like a pet.
*"Know your place."* read the caption beneath.
The cafeteria roared with laughter.
Haruto’s fists clenched, but he didn’t speak. He looked around—most were laughing, a few were whispering, and Renji sat at a table in the center, casually sipping tea, watching.
Aoi wasn’t there.
Haruto turned and left without a word.
---
That evening, Haruto was in the library annex—quiet, nearly abandoned after hours—when a soft click echoed behind him. The door opened, and in walked **Aoi**, still in uniform, her steps silent as silk.
“I figured you’d be hiding here,” she said.
Haruto didn’t look up. “Why are you here?”
“To apologize,” she said, “and to warn you.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Warn me?”
She stepped closer, lowering her voice. “Renji’s not just some jealous ex. His family practically owns half of Saint Avalon. He doesn't just humiliate. He ruins.”
“Let him try.”
“You don’t get it,” she said. “He’ll dig into your past. Your sister. Your life. He’ll twist it all.”
Silence.
Then Haruto asked quietly, “Why do you care?”
Aoi looked at him—and something flickered in her expression. Guilt? Or something deeper?
“Because I pulled you into this,” she admitted. “And because… I don’t like watching him win.”
Haruto finally met her gaze. “So what do you want from me?”
“I want you to meet me tomorrow night,” she said, her voice low. “At the old greenhouse behind the gym. Midnight. No one goes there anymore.”
Haruto narrowed his eyes. “Why?”
Aoi gave a faint smile. “Because if you’re going to fight Renji, you need to understand what kind of war this really is. And you need to see what kind of girl I really am.”
She stepped closer, standing just inches from him now. The air between them charged.
Then, without warning, she reached out and gently fixed his collar—fingers brushing his neck, light as a ghost.
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
“And maybe… because I want to see you alone.”
She turned and walked out, leaving Haruto with his heart thudding and the scent of her perfume still clinging to the air.
- Writer
