Chapter 53: Whatever You Say, Nino Will Do

After leaving Nozomi Sakura’s apartment building, Alan did not head straight home.

He took out his phone, glanced at the dinner address Makoto had sent, and brushed off the man’s teasing with a few perfunctory replies. Then he strolled beneath the neon lights at an unhurried pace.

By now his mind had let go of the day’s events. If anyone asked why he was simply drifting, he would probably mutter something like "I’ve thought it through," or "I’m too tired."

First the Akari sisters, now Nino Kitagawa—his ex-girlfriends were popping up in rapid succession. Nino’s raw emotion earlier had hit him harder than he expected.

A wave of exhaustion rolled over him, the reckless urge a driver feels to let go of the wheel on a freeway.

Yet the thought lasted only an instant. Alan snapped back, reason tightening its grip on the steering wheel.

He had been here before, when his parents died and he was left alone, when he lived under his aunt’s roof, when he went under the knife, when money ran out, when failure loomed again and again.

Self-destructive thoughts always whispered, but controlling them had become second nature.

There has to be a better choice.

He drew a long breath, his eyes steadied. Lowering his gaze to the navigation on his phone, he confirmed he was one traffic light away from where Nino’s club was eating.

Just as he looked up, right foot half-lifted, a figure halted in front of him.

Under the streetlamp’s glow he recognized her and spoke her name without thinking.

"Nino?"

"Yes~"

The girl nodded dazedly. She had changed into a black-and-white tracksuit, her hair gathered in a high ponytail.

She stood so close that Alan caught the clean scent of laundry detergent.

He stepped back half a pace. "What are you doing here? Didn’t you go to the club dinner?"

"Um..."

Nino hesitated, her clear eyes flickering. She pressed her lips together and murmured, "Because... because Alan said he would buy Nino dinner, so... Nino didn’t go..."

She dared not admit she had followed him the whole way, had watched him see Nozomi home, then realized he was heading toward her own club gathering and jumped out to intercept him.

Alan studied her for a long moment. Instead of asking how she had managed to appear so conveniently, he simply nodded.

"I did promise you dinner, but only if you answer my questions properly, right?"

Nino’s eyes widened, her breathing quickened. She swallowed. "Did Nino... answer wrong?"

Alan met her gaze, voice calm. "Lying is wrong, isn’t it? And stabbing people at random is also wrong. I remember telling you, Nino, unless your life is in danger, you never draw your sword against another person. Did you forget all that?"

Her heart seemed to crumple. Color drained from her face. She bit her lip and reached for his sleeve.

"I’m sorry... Nino was wrong..."

Her voice cracked, pleading. "Then let Nino treat Alan to dinner, okay..."

Where would you get the money? Alan thought, exasperated. High-school kendo tournaments were educational showcases with no prize money. Nino’s funds came from a meagre allowance and whatever she scraped together at part-time jobs, most of which vanished into her stomach.

He glanced at her worn but spotless tracksuit and sneakers, at her bare face that still managed to look lovely.

"Sigh..."

He pulled his gaze away and shook his head. "Let’s go."

"Okay~"

All the way to the ramen shop Nino followed like a scolded bride, keeping a careful half-step behind. When the gap between them felt too wide, she bit her lip, hesitated, then timidly caught the hem of Alan’s jacket.

He stopped. Her heart lurched, panic flashing in her eyes—

But he merely paused, then walked on.

Relief loosened her shoulders, the corners of her mouth lifted, eyes curving into crescents.

See? Alan’s the best. He won’t abandon Nino...

They crossed one street from the kendo-club dinner venue and entered a tiny ramen shop Nino frequented. The menu was short, the portions artisanal, the flavor close to what he remembered from Kyoto.

"Three bowls of tonkotsu, three chicken skewers, three beef skewers, and one seafood soup, please."

He chose a corner table for two and waved the owner over.

"Er... there are only two of you, isn’t that—"

The owner knew Alan well, but the order made him glance up in surprise. When he noticed the girl at Alan’s side, understanding dawned, he closed his mouth, scribbled quickly, and asked, "Anything else?"

Alan caught the owner’s look, then studied Nino again. She sat like a quail facing the wall, hands clenched in her lap.

"That’s all for now, we’ll order more if we need."

"Right, coming up."

Aware his regular customer disliked small talk, the owner withdrew.

Alan poured tea and slid the cup to Nino, took a sip himself, then fixed his gaze on her smooth forehead.

"Nino, you’ve been following me since school started, haven’t you?"

When Alan asked, Nino’s shoulders gave a startled twitch, her downcast eyes fixed on a crack in the tabletop as she nodded.

"Mm..."

"..."

Alan’s eyelid flickered.

He had known the answer for days, yet hearing it aloud still hurt. He couldn’t help pressing her.

"Don’t you have a life of your own? Don’t you need to study? Where have you been putting your energy? Remember what I told you, once you’re in university you have to hit the books. Even if your kendo’s top-notch, becoming a teacher or a cop still depends on your academic grades. The bar isn’t high, but can you even pass the next set of finals?"

Japanese diners prize silence, raise your voice and the staff will scold you. Mindful of Nino’s feelings, Alan kept his voice low, audible only to the two of them.

Nino still flinched at his tone. Crystal tears pattered onto the table.

Alan opened his mouth, the anger draining out of him. He tore off two tissues and slid them over.

She had cried more today than in all the years he’d known her.

The girl’s body shuddered with every sob, her words broken.

"I—I’m sorry... But, but Nino just wanted to see Alan..."

"When I can’t see you, it hurts right here..." She pressed a hand to her chest.

Alan glanced, beneath the cloth, the spot was as flat as ever. He leaned over and dabbed the tissues against her cheeks, ready to offer comfort—at least to stop the tears—but she went on.

"I’m sorry... Nino, Nino will apologize to her. Alan, please forgive me, okay?"

Alan rubbed the bridge of his nose, resigned. "There’s nothing to forgive..."

It’s hard to resent someone who loves you wholeheartedly, especially when she used to be yours. Watching her cry, his anger evaporated. He moved to the question that mattered most.

"Tell me, did you come because Hojo said something to you?"

This time Nino didn’t dare hide, she bobbed her chin like a pestle, the two tissues fluttering against her face like white butterflies.

So that’s it.

The confirmation landed, Alan leaned back, exhaling quietly. He didn’t want to admit it, didn’t want to believe the once-innocent Hojo had changed this much. But the truth was clear, Akari Hojo was no longer the girl he remembered.

Using even Nino...

The owner arrived with three bowls of tonkotsu ramen. He took in their faces, kept his smile, and murmured, "Three tonkotsu, skewers will be a few more minutes..."

"Thank you." Alan nodded, sliding all three bowls toward Nino. "Eat first."

Nino bit her lip, she had no appetite. She looked up at him, careful.

"Alan, aren’t you eating? Nino can’t finish all this..."

"They’re for you. Eat."

Nino sniffled, the smell of pork broth curled into her nose. She swallowed, fighting the urge to grab her chopsticks.

"Alan’s not mad at Nino anymore?"

"Eat first."

He peeled the "white butterflies" from her face and nudged the tissues closer. "Blow your nose."

"Okay."

Aware she’d misbehaved, she turned obedient, nothing like the girl who had cornered him that morning.

Slurp.

Nino lifted her wrist, gathered the noodles with chopsticks, and guided them into her mouth without breaking them. The broth painted her lips vermilion, steam curled up her pale neck. Lamplight caught in her eyes, turning them glassy, luminous. A clean, fragile beauty spilled from her.

Watching her dainty manners, Alan’s gaze softened, memories flickered. At least the lessons hadn’t been wasted.

Soon three empty bowls sat before her. Afraid to waste a drop, she ran her chopsticks around the rims, clink-clink.

"If you’re still hungry, order more."

Nino shook her head. "Nino isn’t hungry today."

She glanced toward the kitchen, confirmed the skewers weren’t ready, then looked back at him, lips pressed tight.

"Alan... do you really like that girl?"

Alan frowned. Nozomi Sakura?"

"The one from this morning..." Nino chewed her lip, stole a glance, then whispered, "If Alan likes her, Nino can like her too. Just... don’t send Nino away... You still like Nino, right? Nino will be good—whatever you say, Nino will do..."

She rubbed her chest, eyes glistening with hurt. "Even though Nino’s chest hasn’t grown... books say massaging helps. Maybe later..."

An idea lit her face, the worry vanished. "Alan likes Nino’s legs, right? Look, they’re still the same."

She stretched one leg past the table, grabbed the hem of her track pants to pull it up.

The moment an ankle flashed pale, Alan’s spine iced over. He bent, seized her wrist, and pinned it down, voice low and sharp.

"What are you doing? Is this how I taught you?"

Held fast, Nino froze, lower lip trembling, chin crumpling like crumpled paper.

"But... Nino has nothing else to offer. Don’t make Nino leave, please..."

She seemed to shrink into the dust.

Alan closed his eyes, drew a slow breath, fingers tightening around her wrist. At last, he opened them, gaze steady.

"Nino, let’s make a promise."

"Mm-hmm!"

Nino sat up like an eager pupil, eyes sparkling.

Alan raised three fingers in front of her.

"Three years. If, after three years, you still feel the same, I’ll marry you."

"Okay!"

Without hesitation, Nino’s smile bloomed like a flower.

"I’ll always love Alan."