Chapter 54: Love Lunchbox

Thursday.

A warm breeze gently blew through the open classroom windows, carrying with it the faint scent of blooming flowers and fresh-cut grass. The sunlight filtered lazily through the curtains, spilling golden streaks across the rows of desks.

The first class was an excruciatingly boring language class. The middle-aged, balding teacher in his forties stood on the podium, droning on about the literary meaning behind a paragraph no one cared about. His tone was so low and hypnotic that it could easily compete with a seasoned sleep therapist. Within minutes, the students in the classroom looked like wilted eggplants after a frost—drooping, sluggish, and utterly lifeless.

Kouya rested his chin on his hand, gazing out the window at the playground below. Outside, some energetic students were running laps in the sunshine, laughing, shouting, brimming with life. For a moment, he felt a pang of envy. He finally understood why Gabriel was so obsessed with cultivation—because anything, literally anything, was better than this.

Then, just as he was about to drift off completely, a familiar poking sensation came from behind.

“Poke, poke, poke—”

Once, twice, three times… That rhythm—it was impossible to forget.

Humans, after all, have instinctive memory. You can tell who’s coming just by their footsteps, or sense who’s watching you without looking. And for Kouya, there was only one person who could poke him in that annoyingly steady, deliberate way.

“Not that lazy blonde angel again…” he muttered quietly.

“Who else could it be!”

Because of his subtle self-imposed presence-dampening technique, he was practically invisible in class. But the one exception—the only person who ever ignored it completely—was that infuriating, golden-haired angel.

He hadn’t felt that poking in weeks. Ever since Gabriel had fallen into her cultivation addiction, she’d stopped bothering him. And now, suddenly, it was back? Revived from the dead?

Oh, hell no.

This time, I’m fighting back!

Tenfold retaliation—I’ll poke her till she cries!

With righteous fury, Kouya turned his head, only to find Gabriel staring at him with a secretive little grin, cheeks puffed out adorably like a hamster hiding seeds. Her bright eyes sparkled with mischief.

Then, without saying a word, she handed him a sticky note.

Kouya blinked and took it. On it was a neat, elegant line of handwriting:

“Kouya-kun, you didn’t bring a lunchbox, did you?”

Of course not! He snorted inwardly. Making a lunchbox wasn’t the hard part—the hard part was washing the damn dishes afterward! He hated that chore with a passion. If he could avoid it, he absolutely would.

The next line made him freeze.

“Well… I made lunch this morning, but accidentally made too much. So, you can have one portion.”

Holy shit!

Did he just read that right?!

The lazy blonde angel actually wanted to give him a lunchbox?

That couldn’t be right.

No, no, no—this was definitely a trap. She must have poisoned it. This was a murder attempt, pure and simple.

You’re trying to kill me and silence me, you scheming angel!

You look cute and soft on the outside, but inside you’re pure darkness!

“What are you staring at!” Gabriel huffed, her face turning a little red. She crossed her arms and looked away. “I just happened to make an extra one. Eat it if you want—or don’t.”

“Then I’ll pass,” Kouya said immediately, deadpan.

Gabriel’s eyes widened. “No way! If you don’t eat it, I can’t keep gacha-ing—”

“What?” Kouya frowned. “What did you just say?”

“E-Eh, I said… nice weather today, huh.” She coughed awkwardly, her tone turning unnatural. “Anyway, I made too much, and it’d be a waste to throw it away. You look like someone who eats a lot, so it’s fine.”

Eat a lot, my ass!

Still, Kouya couldn’t help smirking a little. A man who doesn’t eat might as well be a salted fish. Only those who eat well grow strong enough to survive anything—hell, in a true apocalypse, it’d be the fat ones left standing.

Don’t underestimate them—they’re evolution’s hidden aces!

But knowing Gabriel’s culinary reputation, it was more likely that whatever she made could cause spontaneous internal combustion.

“You’re definitely testing poison on me,” Kouya muttered under his breath. “I’ll probably die with my face twisted and foaming at the mouth.”

“Anyway,” Gabriel interrupted, “during lunch break, I’ll give you the lunchbox. Don’t let anyone see, okay?”

…

Noon arrived before he knew it.

As soon as the bell rang, the morning’s zombie-like students came to life, chattering and rushing out of the classroom like freed prisoners. The noise faded quickly, leaving behind a peaceful emptiness.

“Gabi-chan, let’s go eat together?” Vigne asked sweetly, approaching her friend’s desk.

“No, no.” Gabriel waved her hands frantically. “I have something important to do. You go ahead, Vigne.”

Vigne tilted her head. “Important? Alright, but don’t skip lunch, okay?” She smiled and walked off.

Kouya stretched and stood up, ready to leave too, when he felt something tugging gently at his shirt.

He turned, and there she was—Gabriel, crouched slightly, glancing around nervously. With exaggerated care, she pulled a lunchbox out from her desk drawer like a spy passing classified documents. Her voice dropped to a whisper.

“Kouya-kun, your lunchbox.”

No, it’s your lunchbox!

I’m not eating that thing!

But before he could speak, another voice—soft and melodic—floated into the air.

“Oh? Is that a love lunchbox from Gabi-chan?”

Kouya’s shoulders stiffened. Some voices were naturally soothing—like clear spring water trickling through a forest, or wind chimes swaying in the twilight breeze. But all that serenity vanished the moment he turned around.

Because standing behind them, smiling with closed eyes, was none other than Raphael.

The angelic devil herself.

And seriously—how the hell did she move so quietly?! Was she part ghost?

Never trust a girl with that innocent squinty-eyed smile. Never.

“It’s not!” Gabriel snapped instantly.

“Really?” Raphael teased, slipping behind her and wrapping her arms around her waist. “I was going to invite you to lunch, but I guess that’s unnecessary now~”

“Get lost,” Gabriel grumbled, cheeks puffing up like a cat.

“Hmmm,” Raphael purred mischievously, leaning closer. “Haven’t seen you for a few days, and it seems these have gotten bigger again.” Without hesitation, she cupped Gabriel’s chest with both hands. “At this rate, you might catch up to me soon~”

“I’ll kill you, you busty witch!”

Gabriel shoved her off with an indignant glare. “Anyway, you HAVE to take the lunchbox!”

The words came out louder than intended, and she froze.

The classroom had gone oddly quiet. Because Raphael had shown up, half the class was watching now. Her stunning looks and refined aura always drew attention—and soon whispers began spreading among the students.

“That’s a love lunchbox, right?”

“Gabriel actually made a lunchbox for Kouya-kun?”

“Wait, are they dating now?”

“Gabriel looks mad… maybe she was forced?”

“Oh my god, if she’s being forced at school, what happens outside? She’s probably being made to do… terrible things!”

“…”

Tragic, my ass!

She spends her days drinking cola, eating fried chicken, and gaming till midnight! She’s living the dream!

Kouya shot them an icy glare, and the gossipers flinched like scared quails, instantly going silent.

He sighed and looked down at the lunchbox in his hands. Taking a deep breath, he opened it carefully.

To his surprise—it wasn’t cursed. It wasn’t bubbling or changing colors. Inside was an ordinary, perfectly edible lunch.

Though the rice had cooled, the aroma was still gentle and appetizing. A comforting, homemade scent.

There was a neat serving of rice, a piece of grilled fish, two thin slices of lemon, some ham, onions, and a small salad with crisp lettuce. It wasn’t fancy, but it looked… nice.

Kouya blinked, glancing up at Gabriel, whose cheeks were faintly pink.

“Anyway,” she muttered, pretending to be casual, “I’ve handed it over. My job’s done. Whether you eat it or throw it away—I don’t care…”

She turned her head to the window, but her eyes kept darting toward him through the corner of her vision.

Obviously, if he did toss it in the trash, the fallout would be catastrophic.

So Kouya exhaled softly, then said, “Thanks for the lunchbox.”

The second the words left his mouth, he felt a familiar gaze on him.

He turned toward the door—and froze.

There stood a purple-haired girl, her eyes wide in quiet surprise.

Vigne.

Her gaze dropped to the lunchbox in his hands. Her lips trembled slightly as she bit down gently, then looked away, expression clouded. Without a word, she turned and walked off.

Something tightened in Kouya’s chest.

Ah… damn it. Why do I suddenly feel like explaining?

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