Why does the Ruined King still fall in love?

Page 277

No sane girl wants to take responsibility for me.

But I still want to know.

So I ask.

"why?"

Yukinoshita took out his phone.

She was looking at something, scrolling up and down the list.

She watched for a few seconds.

It's rare to see Yukinoshita so uncertain, but finally, she presses a button and holds the phone to her ear.

She dialed a number.

Yukinoshita took a deep breath.

She glanced at me, her hair bouncing quickly, and this time she made up her mind.

I knew that after saying this, she didn't want me to talk anymore - I could tell that from the tone of her voice.

Yukinoshita then explained why she did this for me.

Her voice was soft, as if she was ashamed of the whole thing.

But that doesn't make much sense to me.

Her answer was simple:

"Because it was my fault."

???

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Yukinoshita grabbed my arm as we left the apartment.

She took my arm as we walked into the elevator.

She took my arm as we walked out of the hall.

She opened the limo door for me, made sure I was buckled up, and gave the driver directions to my address.

I really didn't do anything.

Along the way, I could feel her breasts, or rather, missing breasts, rubbing against my arms.

If it weren't for the debilitating illness that took a huge toll on my feelings, I might be a little happier about the coincidence.

But then again, Yukinoshita's lack of support for me was nothing exciting.

On the contrary, I don't think I've ever had such close contact with her...

The thought of touching her, Sobu High's untouchable ice queen, was something I hadn't thought of until now.

As we passed block after block, packed with students and corporate slaves, toward our destination, I hadn't forgotten that I was in the limo that hit me.

Is this the call Yukinoshita made before? She is calling the driver?

I mean, I could have walked home...

I sneezed again.

I clutched my chest tightly, feeling like my ribcage was about to collapse.

"We should buy you some cold medicine." Yukinoshita said softly. "Maybe we should stop at the hospital first..."

The driver in front heard her. "May I make a detour to the hospital, Miss Yukino?"

"I believe that would be—"

"No," I said, interrupting her, "take me home."

Yukinoshita bit her lip.Maybe she's annoyed by my stubbornness? Then again, if she's not used to my annoyances, how long is she going to be around?

"You heard what he said... Please go to his house."

"No problem, Miss Yukino." The driver said as we continued on our way.

When we got to my house, Yukinoshita helped me in.

I could feel her boobs, or missing boobs, rubbing against my arm again.

Now that I think about it, maybe Yukinoshita and Ms. Yono are not related by blood.

One can have a chest like Muhammad Ali, ie Muhammad Ali.Every poke like that, it's like... the other feels like sandpaper.

Without warning, she helped me up the stairs, into my room, and put me on the bed.

Then she started to unbutton my shirt.

"Hey!" I said, turning around. "I'm not that helpless yet." The thought of Yukinoshita unbuttoning my shirt made me distraught.

When did she feel so comfortable with male bodies? Isn't she ashamed?

"This is not the time to worry about cultural expectations about gender. You're sick and wearing sweaty clothes doesn't help."

"I can undress myself." I said nervously.

Oh my God!this woman.

When you come home with a guy and you're in his room trying to undress him.

If this was some kind of rom-com, my sister would have stepped in and caused a misunderstanding.

"Look," she said, walking towards the door. "I'll be back soon. Please rest in bed and don't do anything strenuous until I get back."

"Until you come back? Well, don't you go to school?

The door slammed shut.

I went to the window and the driver of the limousine was busy on the phone before I greeted the driver under the snow.

Then, she hurriedly put away her phone and opened the door for Yukinoshita.

Not long after, they drove to the end of the street again, turned a corner, and disappeared from my sight.

No matter where Yukino goes, it must not be for herself.

Doesn't that woman think about her future?

Bah, never mind that...

I rubbed my eyes.

Maybe I can get a little sleep...

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The smell of porridge woke me up.

porridge, gruel, rice porridge

...no matter what it's called, I can smell this wet rice with vegetables and fish anywhere in my house.

It's traditional food for the sick, like the kind a mother would make for a sick child, or, in a more fantastic case, when a girl comes to a young man's home to help him get well soon made.

Now, however, neither is the case.

Because this porridge was not made by anyone else, but by Yukino Yukinoshita.

"Hey...didn't you go to school?" My head was buried deep in the pillow.

I started coughing again, and this time Yukinoshita got closer to me.

"Here. Have some tea," she said.

Holding the steaming cup, I took a sip.

It doesn't taste like regular tea, it's a bit bitter, almost sour in taste.

My throat started to clear mucus from the rising acidity.

"A colleague of mine owns a Chinese herbal and dry goods store. They recommended this tea for sore throats." Yukinoshita reached across the table and held a bottle of the oil to my nose. "Yes, this. Take a deep breath."

"......what is this?"

"Smell it." Yukinoshita said.

It wasn't an order or anything, and her voice didn't seem forced or angry.

It's more like the normal tone of voice an owner would ask a dog to sit down.

"Whatever it is..."

I took a deep breath of the bottled oil, which smelled like perfume from a nursing home for the elderly.

"What is this?" I kept coughing.

God, what leather vomit did they stuff in this thing? I feel snot starting to come out of my nose.

"Tissue." Yukinoshita said, and handed me some precious paper.

After blowing my nose, I said, "Thank you."

My sinuses are pouring into the tissue bit by bit.

"It's a mixture," she explained. "It's an odor oil that clears the sinuses. It seems to be quite effective." She unscrewed the cap of the small bottle of oil and put it aside. "Here, have some porridge."

Yukinoshita brought a bowl of white rice.She lifts the spoon upwards, and the scene is like a mother flying a plane while the child throws a tantrum in the booster.

I did not accept.

"What's in it?" I looked at the spoon carefully.

"I contacted some producers of agricultural products. They are all family friends, as well as rice and vegetables from Mount Kinabalu, which are provided by the Chitanda family, and various seafood caught."

I don't know who those people are, but they sound impressive.

"Sorry, I'm allergic to seafood..."

"You are not allergic." Yukinoshita said matter-of-factly.

"how do you know?"

I mean, of course, it's a flat-out lie, and a neon person with a seafood allergy is like saying "I'm a grass-allergic cow."

"I have contacted your doctor. You do not have this allergic reaction."

Yukinoshita must have some means of contact.

I reached for the bowl, but Yukinoshita snatched it from me.

"Hey, didn't I want to eat that?"

"Sit down," she said, setting the bowl aside.She pinned me on the bedside table, propped me up with pillows, and covered me with a blanket. "It's best not to risk forcing you to do anything strenuous."

"Like what? Feed me?" I shook my head and asked.

"If I don't support myself, who will support me?"

That person was obviously Totsuka, but he's at school now, so I figured I'd starve to death.

"I feed you."

- and then his big angelic smile makes me feel better in an instant - wait... what?

what! ?

"Can I clarify something?" I asked as Yukinoshita picked up the bowl and spoon.

She started prepping it through my mouth, scooping a little carefully, and blowing.

"You." She said stoically and pretendingly.

"Are you going to feed me?"

"I believe I said so."

"Like, you're going to take a spoon and put it in my mouth?"