The rooftop often witnessed many kinds of “battles,” ranging from intimate confrontations to more violent, drama-filled scenes.

But aside from these, Kotomi found the school’s rooftop to be a great spot for having lunch. Compared to the crowded schoolyard, the rooftop was much quieter, making it a better choice for a peaceful meal.

“How did you find the physics and chemistry exams? Did they go smoothly?” Kotomi asked with concern.

Yui Yuigahama nodded with confidence. “The final essay questions were a bit tricky, but I felt pretty confident about the multiple choice and fill-in-the-blank questions. At first glance, the questions seemed unfamiliar, but after reading them carefully, I realized they were just like the ones you taught me, only with slightly different wording or numbers.”

Hearing this, Kotomi smiled and exaggeratedly sighed in relief.

“Am I… am I such a burden that you’d be this worried?” Yui blushed slightly as she spoke.

“In the exam room, I couldn’t help but think about you. I worried about whether you’d be able to solve the problems, and I feared that if you saw how the difficulty level had been raised, you might, like some students, lose your cool. Even though I finished my exams quickly each time, I never felt at ease during the test. It wasn’t because I was worried about myself, but… I was worried about you,” Kotomi confessed slowly, revealing all the thoughts that had been running through her mind during the exams.

Since unlocking the system’s learning ability, Kotomi had never worried about her own grades. But despite that, she found her anxiety shifting toward Yui. After all, this was Yui’s first serious test following weeks of focused study, and Kotomi desperately hoped that Yui’s efforts would be reflected in her results.

She thought to herself how strange it was—though her own academic success was guaranteed, she still found herself worrying about exams, albeit for someone else’s sake.

Yui Yuigahama’s expression turned serious as she gazed at Kotomi. “Kotomi, are you really that worried about me?”

“It’s not that I’m afraid you’ll do poorly, I’m just a little concerned that your final score won’t match the effort you’ve put in. I want you to feel like all your hard work was worth it. I don’t want you to be disappointed in yourself,” Kotomi said softly.

“Kotomi, I want to hug you,” Yui suddenly declared.

“Eh?” Kotomi, caught off guard by this sudden declaration, let out a sound of confusion.

The wind picked up, carrying the sound of the breeze through the air, as if any words spoken too softly would be swept away.

Yui lowered her gaze, looking at their feet, a shy smile forming on her lips.

“I guess… I also want to be selfish for once.”

Before Kotomi could react, Yui moved. The faint scent of her perfume filled Kotomi’s nose as soft arms wrapped around her, and both of their hearts began to race.

Years ago, at her father’s funeral, Yui had held her younger sister close, looking at her frail, grieving mother. That was when she decided she had to grow up, to stop being selfish.

Maybe she no longer had the right to be selfish.

She needed to help her mother support the family.

From then on, no matter what she wanted or how much she liked something, Yui never asked her mother for anything.

If I asked, Mom would definitely buy it for me. But I don’t want her to sacrifice even more for my sake—she’s already worked so hard. I don’t need anything. I don’t need makeup, I don’t need a new phone… I won’t be selfish anymore.

Yui often repeated these thoughts to herself.

Maybe not being selfish was one of her good traits.

But now…

As she hugged Kotomi, Yui realized something.

—Turns out, I do want to be selfish sometimes.

Yui wasn’t sure what Kotomi was thinking as she held her, but in this moment, she decided not to care. She let herself be swept away by her emotions.

The first step was hugging her.

The second step… was kissing her.

The third step…

Yui didn’t know why she felt this way toward Kotomi.

But hearing Kotomi’s words earlier, she just wanted to indulge in her selfish thoughts for once.

Kotomi’s delicate, porcelain-like face, viewed from this angle, glowed softly as if illuminated by gentle lighting. Yui’s eyelashes fluttered slightly, and her gaze traveled slowly over Kotomi’s face, as if pondering where to kiss her.

Kotomi bit her lip gently. When Yui suddenly hugged her, Kotomi’s body stiffened instantly, and she felt like she forgot how to breathe. She didn’t even dare blink.

However, instead of feeling any resistance in her heart, there was a persistent voice urging her to relax, to accept it, and to experience more.

“I wonder if Kotomi and Yui are having lunch on the rooftop. Maybe I’ll join them today.” Megumi Kato, holding a bento box, smiled softly as she ascended the final step to the rooftop, having specially asked her mom to make extra Kanto-style tamagoyaki.

Her mother had been quite surprised at her request, thinking Megumi had finally developed a liking for eggs.

So without a second thought, she had made plenty of tamagoyaki for today’s lunch.

In truth, Megumi still didn’t like eggs. She hadn’t liked them before, and she still didn’t now. But because Kotomi enjoyed them, she was willing to have tamagoyaki in her bento and even force herself to eat eggs.

The thought of Kotomi’s happy and satisfied expression when she ate the tamagoyaki brought a deeper smile to Megumi’s face.

As she approached the half-open door of the rooftop, Megumi took a step forward, ready to enter. But when she caught sight of the scene before her, her smile froze, and her eyes darkened.

Her expression became a cold, empty void that sent chills down one’s spine.

Standing silently in the shadows, Megumi stared at Kotomi, who was wrapped in Yui’s embrace. Her tightly clenched hands threatened to crush the bento bag she was holding.

Megumi’s lips parted, as if she were uttering something in a voice laced with frost, before she turned away and disappeared back into the shadows.

…

Looking at Yui, who was simply holding her without knowing what to do next, Kotomi couldn’t help herself. She blurted out,

“Do you want to kiss me?”

It was a simple sentence, but it was as if Kotomi had dropped a bomb into Yui’s mind. The explosion left her stunned, her face flushed red, and she became completely flustered.

Yui hurriedly let go of Kotomi, her cheeks bright red, and stammered in panic,

“I-I-I-I… I wasn’t! I didn’t! I wasn’t even thinking about that… really!”

Seeing how nervous Yui had become, stumbling over her words, Kotomi pursed her lips into a mischievous smile. For some reason, when she was with Yui, she felt like she could act more confidently and take the lead.

“I was just teasing you. Even if you wanted to kiss me, I might not agree, you know~ But your sudden hug really surprised me. I thought you were about to do something else.”

I really was about to do something else… Yui mumbled shyly in her heart. Then she sighed softly, murmuring,

“I must’ve been a fool earlier. After hearing what you said, I just wanted to hug you.”

“Feeling foolish makes you want to hug me?”

Kotomi couldn’t help but laugh. Although she wasn’t quite sure how to describe her emotions, hearing Yui’s words filled her with an inexplicable sense of happiness.

Yui Yuigahama, her face slightly flushed, nodded and scooted closer to Kotomi. In a small voice, she said, “Actually, I wanted to hug you just now and tell you that, no matter how I do on the exams, I won’t be disappointed. Since you were the one tutoring me, I didn’t feel tired at all during this time. On the contrary, I’m really happy because the tutoring gave me a chance to get closer to you.”

“If that’s how you feel, then I’m relieved. There are still two exams this afternoon, so do your best. We didn’t get a chance to go over biology as much as I’d like, but just pay attention during the geography test, and you should be fine,” Kotomi said, sounding satisfied.

“I can’t wait to make that cake for you!” Yui replied, referring to the promise between them.

“No chocolate on the cake, please.”

“Don’t worry, both my mom and I remember that you don’t like chocolate.”

After finishing their lunch, they cleaned up the leftover wrappers and prepared to leave the rooftop and return to their respective exam rooms.

As they stepped off the rooftop and closed the door behind them, Kotomi’s eyes caught a glimpse of water stains on the ground.

The stairs leading to the rooftop and the platform in that area had concrete floors, so any spilled liquid would be quite noticeable.

The faint water stains hadn’t yet evaporated completely, almost as if someone had been standing there crying not too long ago.

In Kotomi’s mind, a scene started to form—a girl, standing unnoticed at the door, silently watching them through the glass, her tears falling down her cheeks…

If this were midnight, the thought alone sent chills down Kotomi’s spine. She shivered, thoroughly spooking herself.

There’s something inherently eerie about doors with glass panes. People tend to fear the idea that a face might suddenly appear, or that a pair of eyes might be watching them through the glass without their knowing.

Fans of horror and suspense often imagine such scenarios, but even people unfamiliar with such genres tend to develop a certain fear of doors with glass panes.

One particular group of people who feel this way are students.

Classroom doors typically have glass panes, and during lessons, the dean of students would often sneakily appear at the door, peering through the glass into the room.

If you were unlucky enough to be caught playing on your phone during one of these moments, well, say goodbye to that phone—next thing you know, it’s confiscated.

Even Kotomi, who had lived through two lives, felt a sense of dread thinking about such situations.

But perhaps it was precisely because of the risk involved that sneaking a phone in class felt so exhilarating.

Of course, Kotomi had her own methods for dealing with teachers who liked to sneak up on students from behind.

She would place two notebooks on her desk, with the textbook for that class on top, propped open so that the pages hung down, creating a shield. She would place her phone behind this setup, with a stack of books as further cover.

Using this method, she could sneak in some phone time during class. Even if the dean looked in from behind, it would appear as though she was diligently studying.

And in case the teacher approached unexpectedly, she could quickly shove the phone into a blind spot, leaving no evidence.

Kotomi had been using this technique since her previous life and carried it into this one.

But back to the matter at hand—what were these tear-like water stains about?

Kotomi stared at them for a while but couldn’t make sense of it. She glanced up at the ceiling.

Could it be a leak?

“Kotomi, is something wrong?”

Yui, who had already descended a few steps, noticed that Kotomi was still standing on the platform. She turned back and asked, concerned.

“Ah, it’s nothing.” Kotomi snapped out of her thoughts and quickly caught up with Yui.

Before heading to the exam room, Kotomi made a quick stop at the girls’ restroom, having learned from yesterday’s lesson. She made sure to “drain the water” and avoid any distractions during the exam.

Back in Class 1-A, Kotomi noticed that, even though only two exams remained, the atmosphere in the exam room wasn’t exactly lively.

It was clear that the unexpected increase in difficulty had weighed heavily on many of the students.

They had anticipated the midterm exams would be tough, but the monthly test had caught them off guard.

Honestly, whether they were average students or top performers, most didn’t take the monthly tests too seriously. They usually didn’t prepare much for them, so it was no surprise that they were caught off guard this time.

As for the difficulty level that left so many students grumbling, Kotomi was mostly unfazed. She still finished early, as usual.

After all, no matter how much more difficult the exams became, as soon as Kotomi laid eyes on a question, her brain would immediately present her with the solution and the detailed answer.

The answers came rushing in as quickly and powerfully as a tidal wave, unstoppable.

Often, by the time she finished reading a question, the answer had already appeared.

Kotomi’s habit of finishing early puzzled the teachers who wrote the exam questions. While they knew she was a top student in Class 1-A, her speed was simply outrageous.

They even started wondering if the questions were still too easy.

As a result, the teachers agreed to raise the difficulty level even further for the next monthly test.

Warning: other students—be afraid.

Kotomi, however, could only sigh. It wasn’t her fault; her academic ability was just that strong. No matter how challenging the teachers tried to make the questions, her brain would immediately provide the correct answers.

The biology test was scheduled to last an hour, but Kotomi finished in less than 40 minutes.

If she had gone all out, she might have finished in 20 minutes, but Kotomi found that going at full speed made her wrist ache.

So she took her time, writing at a steady pace.

Once again, because it wasn’t a double exam, Kotomi stood up and submitted her answers early, in front of everyone.

The geography exam went the same way.

Kotomi’s repeated early submissions left some of the top students in quiet awe, breaking down any remnants of their earlier skepticism about her abilities.

There were no official rules about early submissions, and teachers had varied opinions on the practice. Some allowed it, while others didn’t.

But it was generally understood that if a teacher accepted an early submission, it meant the answers were likely satisfactory.

In Kotomi’s case, she was always the first to finish, and as long as it wasn’t a double exam, she would always submit early. And each time, the teacher would allow it without question.

This only reinforced the idea that Kotomi’s accuracy must be incredibly high for the teachers to allow her to submit so early.

Combining that with her speed, it became clear to the other students just how terrifying her academic prowess truly was.

The bell rang, signaling the end of the geography exam and, with it, the end of two days of monthly tests.

“Finally, it’s over,” Kotomi stretched and muttered to herself. “It’s been two days without sneaking in some phone time during class. It feels like a lot of fun has been missing from my life.”

Some of the top students nearby, in the middle of packing up their things, nearly stumbled at her words.

Onee-sama, we beg you, please stop destroying the pond!

“My, how interesting~”

A light, lilting voice rang out, making sure that every student in the room heard it. Accompanied by the tapping of a cane on the floor, the speaker made her way toward Kotomi.

A silver-haired girl, leaning on a cane, approached Kotomi. Her silver hair glistened, her skin and cute features exuding a delicate charm. But due to the cane, people’s first impression of her was often one of frailty.

Once she had steadied herself, the silver-haired girl, still holding onto her cane for balance, extended a hand to Kotomi, and in a friendly manner, introduced herself in a voice that seemed to belong to a wonderland:

“Hello, Kotomi-san. Nice to meet you. I’m Arisu Sakayanagi, class representative of Class 1-A.”

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep