Christmas had arrived, and the air was buzzing with people; even the snowflakes seemed to melt from the sheer enthusiasm.
Gifts hung from the emerald-green Christmas trees, while music swayed continuously with wishes and the ringing of bells. A white-bearded old man's comical performance attracted many tourists. Children held their parents' hands, saying in tender voices, "Santa, I love you!" drawing doting gazes from their elders.
I had decorated the bookstore with The elderly man. The originally ancient and mysterious storefront had become light and lively. Although it felt a bit out of place, many people still stopped to admire it.
Business was much better than before. The store manager and I were busy running around, and the two of us barely managed to cope with the sudden surge of customers.
"Xiao Ye, I have something for you."
The elderly man finished placing the small, twinkling Christmas tree by the door. With his hands behind his back, he walked into the bookstore with trembling steps and pulled out an exquisitely wrapped box.
I didn't expect to receive a Christmas gift from The elderly man. "Is this for me?"
"Merry Christmas, Xiao Ye from China." The elderly man always liked to call me that with a smile. I wasn't used to it at first, but gradually, I began to find it endearing.
"Thank you, and Merry Christmas to you too!"
The gift box was heavy; judging by the weight, it was probably a book. However, I hadn't prepared a return gift. In China, the tradition of exchanging gifts on Christmas is rare, so I could only stand there awkwardly holding the box.
The store manager cleared his throat nearby. "I have one too." He pulled a black fountain pen decorated with a bow from behind his back and handed it to me solemnly.
"Miss Nozawa, Merry Christmas."
Eh? Even the manager... I could only accept his gift with even more constraint, not knowing what to say.
One gave a book, and the other a pen—both were items I liked very much.
I held their gifts tightly and lowered my eyes bashfully. "Thank you, thank you."
"I hope you have the most wonderful Christmas in Japan."
The warmth and care felt in a foreign land are precious memories that make one smile even years later. The book was "Snow Country" by the famous author Yasunari Kawabata, and the black fountain pen was of a brand I wasn't very familiar with, but it looked elegant and beautiful.
Clutching these gifts, I slowly walked back.
Mr. Kuroki returned to Tokyo on Christmas Day.
It was said that during the holiday period, their record album sales had increased significantly. Originally, the traditional media industry had been limited by the development of the internet, but Rainbow Media had secured all online and offline music copyrights and channels, including popular Japanese apps and short videos. Every Christmas, there were considerable promotional activities, and this traffic drove the sales of physical albums. Judging by the rise in corporate market value and stock prices, they had certainly made a fortune.
The Madame also began to appear frequently in news reports, with titles like [Media Entrepreneur Kuroki Reika's Mysterious Lover] or [Exclusive Scoop! The Femme Fatale Maid Who Swept Up 5 Billion], accompanied by several blurry photos of her back.
The content of these news reports was too exaggerated and completely divorced from reality; Madam Kuroki had absolutely nothing to do with the term "femme fatale."
At the same time, on YouTube, Instagram, and Abema TV, the girl band Readymade was sparking a wave of renewed interest. Since they hadn't released a new song in a long time, some fanatical fans began creating "Kichiku" style videos from classic tracks in old albums and uploading them. Aside from the humorous ones urging for updates, most were promoting the lead singer's beauty. One video focused on her looks even reached 100 million views, drawing many people into the fandom. As the popularity soared, the sale of personal image merchandise also became increasingly hot in the second-hand market, and the albums sold became rare out-of-print copies, with prices skyrocketing to two or three times the original price.
Netizens and music fans never tired of it. Songs that were originally niche began to appear in various cafes and instrument shops across Tokyo. That cold and violent voice was too unique. Many imitators appeared, but they were all critiqued as "not even a ten-thousandth as good as the original" and "the original is the eternal god."
Old offline album stores also welcomed a rare boom. Students emerged like bamboo shoots after rain, eagerly discussing their favorite bands and singers, while office workers also wandered in after work to pay for their musical nostalgia.
The internet changes in the blink of an eye, and these viral events had only been happening for a week.
This noisy online information felt very far away from me, yet very close.
In the videos, Kusanagi's face was beautiful yet unfamiliar, possessing a more alluring temperament than in reality. The comments were full of expressions of love and adoration for the girl, and the language often revealed certain erotic undertones, which made me feel deeply displeased.
I logged onto my alt account and typed out a flurry of replies, rebuking all those foul-mouthed people and exhausting my entire vocabulary of Japanese swear words. After venting my anger, I felt I was making a mountain out of a molehill; whenever it involved her, I easily lost my composure. With a bit of regret, I deleted those comments one by one.
I didn't let out a sigh of relief until I deleted the last one. It was as if this could prove that I didn't care about Kusanagi that much and that my emotions were under control.
Yesterday was at the station where I saw off Mori Reiko.
Even though I had been walking very fast, I still couldn't shake off that shocking sentence from last night. It was so startling that I couldn't even recall it in its entirety.
...Is what Mori Reiko said true?
My first reaction was that it was impossible and absurd. Just because she liked women, she couldn't think that all the girls in the world were like that. What kind of logic was that?
Intuition? This was simply too ridiculous. Does she know we have a whole seven-year age gap?
But then, I couldn't explain everything Kusanagi had done. I firmly believed it was because she lacked maternal love that she was especially clingy to me as a senior, treating me like an older sister in her subconscious. But this reason was becoming harder and harder to maintain.
Or rather, I simply couldn't accept the possibility Mori Reiko suggested. The mere thought of it made my heart tremble violently, unable to calm down for a long time.
I slightly regretted asking, but I had wanted to know so badly at the time.
My internal organs felt twisted and tangled together, and I didn't know what to do. I could only try to soothe my emotions, forcibly suppressing my restlessness and shutting that possibility out.
I can't describe the feeling—it was confusing, frustrating, and left me speechless.
But this state didn't last long. I soon forced myself back into my usual state. It was too foolish to be so conflicted over a mere speculation from Mori Reiko. What I saw and what I believed were what mattered most. As for what Kusanagi did and why—she was a sixteen-year-old child; she didn't necessarily need a reason for everything she did. It wasn't entirely impossible, right?
Once I figured that out, I took a deep breath and pushed open the apartment door.
The December night wasn't as cold as I imagined. A slight chill crept up from my ankles, urging me to move forward quickly.
The sky was bleak. I exhaled a puff of warm air, looking at the young girl's pale, smooth face beside me, feeling a slight stir in my heart.
On Christmas Day, I set off with Kusanagi on time to visit the university. The two of us entered the station and swiped our cards. It was a one or two-hour journey to The Jikei University School of Medicine. We had to take the Shinkansen, then transfer to the subway, and walk a short distance to get there.
I don't think I had ever taken the high-speed rail with Kusanagi before.
We bought a double seat. After gesturing for Kusanagi to take the window seat, I sat down. The seats in Japan are very narrow. With my long arms and legs, it was a bit inconvenient. Once I sat down, I almost completely blocked Kusanagi in, and my elbows had nowhere to go.
"Miss Nozawa, don't you think it's too cramped?" Kusanagi rested her slender arm on mine. "Are you going to be my armrest?"
"Sorry, I'll move over a bit."
I awkwardly sat toward the edge, but even when I was at the very limit, my arm was still uncomfortably stuck against the seat. When I tried to adjust the backrest, it turned out to be broken. Talk about bad luck.
I barely managed to make some space, but my legs were pressed tightly against the bottom of the seat in front, and my knees couldn't move. Couldn't they design Japanese seats to be a bit larger?
The girl was curled up into a small ball inside. She watched me clumsily shifting and twisting without saying a word, just staring at me teasingly. I looked back at her awkwardly, and she gave me a smile, the corners of her long, beautiful eyes tilting upward.
After struggling for a while, I gave up. My whole body felt uncomfortable, so I had to hypnotize myself into thinking it was fine and that I just had to endure it for an hour.
In just one hour and forty-five minutes, I would arrive at the university I longed for. Thinking about that made it feel less unbearable.
It wasn't until the train started moving that this girl slowly stood up and pressed a hidden button on her side. The armrest between us began to lift automatically, and the space suddenly became much larger.
...Why didn't you say so earlier! My face darkened; she was deliberately watching me make a fool of myself, this mischievous girl.
"Miss Nozawa probably doesn't take the Shinkansen often. The armrests can be raised." She smiled, then leaned out and politely explained the situation to the passenger in front. After the passenger moved their seat forward, my legroom also became much more relaxed.
In almost a minute, all my problems were solved.
Who exactly is the older one here?
My face felt hot, and I looked away in embarrassment.
It's normal not to know these things in a foreign country, but having a girl so much younger than me solve the problem was truly embarrassing.
"This is much better." Kusanagi stretched and then extended her long legs. "My legs feel much more comfortable too."
Wasn't that my line? Normally, I would have given her a light pinch to show my dissatisfaction, but Mori Reiko's words were still circling in my mind, forcing me to restrain my physical movements and try to avoid contact with her.
I had to lean back against the seat and close my eyes to rest. A gentle female voice from above reminded us that the train had departed. There were many people because of Christmas, and almost every seat was full.
With my eyes closed, listening to the steady sound of the train moving forward, I suddenly felt a weight on my legs. It was a very unfamiliar sensation, like the soft hollow behind a knee resting on my thigh.
I opened my eyes and instinctively checked several times. Sure enough, Kusanagi had placed her slender leg on my knees and was even swinging it back and forth.
She's being too spoiled. This was the only thought in my head. I wanted to push her off, but I couldn't help but feel her movements and the part of her thigh near her hip rubbing against my leg, as if she could sit directly in my lap if she moved just a bit forward.
"You have more space now, but it's gotten narrower on my side." The girl was quiet for a moment before explaining her actions. "It's all your fault for being so tall and taking up my space, so you're not allowed to refuse me."
I was just about to push her off, and she had read my mind. "Don't be ridiculous. Sitting like this is bad for your spine. Put your leg down."
"I won't. I want to sit like this." The girl was completely unreasonable. She hooked her slender leg around me, not letting me leave. "It's warm this way. Otherwise, I'll be cold."
"The train has air conditioning."
"The seat is cold!"
I stared at her narrow kneecap; it had the youthful, not-yet-fully-developed shape and carried almost no weight. Having it resting on my leg wasn't really a problem.
In the end, concerned about her body's sensitivity to cold, I silently acquiesced after a few minutes.
Like a thief who had succeeded, the girl leaned in with all her might, pressing against my arm. She had occupied my entire side. She wasn't careful at all and made no attempt to hide her closeness. From the corner of my eye, I could see the porcelain-white lines of her neck and catch a hint of her cold, faint fragrance.
It was truly a torment, in every sense of the word.
I don't know how much time passed, but Kusanagi's body grew warmer. The air conditioning in the train was set quite high, and the comfortably warm environment made one drowsy. She gradually leaned her head on my shoulder and began to breathe evenly.
The Shinkansen sped forward smoothly. After nearly two hours, we arrived at our destination in a daze: Nishi-Shinbashi, Minato City, Tokyo.
We got off the train with the surging crowd. Opening the navigation, I found that the Onarimon stop was only a three-minute walk from The Jikei University School of Medicine, with no need to transfer to the subway. Kusanagi and I glanced at each other, both very satisfied with the three-minute walk, and we hurried over.
"Hey, do you know that Jikei is a private university?"
"I know," I replied. "And how do you know?"
The girl replied as she walked, "Their school name contains 'Jikei,' which means mercy and love in Japanese. In the eyes of Japanese people, the whole school radiates a medical feel."
"I see."
"Besides, I know a bit about such a famous school." Kusanagi walked in her black leather shoes, making a crisp clicking sound. "The university you're at now is also quite good, it's just a bit below Jikei University."
I didn't expect her to know so much. Tokyo Jikei is ranked 13th in Japan and 601st in the US News World University Rankings. Overall, it's equivalent to a top-tier 985 university in China, whereas the university I chose for my studies was a few levels below, which was a regret of mine.
"And I also know that it's very difficult for foreigners to get directly into Japan's best medical universities." Kusanagi's pace suddenly quickened a bit, and her tone became gentler. "So Miss Nozawa is already very impressive."
Realizing I was being praised by her, my back suddenly straightened. "...I still have a lot to learn, I'm far from it."
"That's true." Kusanagi grabbed my hand; the thin calluses on her palm were cold. "Miss Nozawa's foundation isn't quite there yet. You'll need to study in Japan for at least another seven or eight years."
I gave a bitter smile. "Don't say that, seven or eight years is actually quite possible."
Hearing me say this, the girl's body clearly paused for a moment.
"Then please study for a long time, Miss Nozawa."
After saying that, she didn't look back and pulled me along with force, her steps light and full of joy.