Vellmiraa

Copyright © [gurenomuto], edited by me.

CHAPTER 3 PART II-THE TREAT

When they reached the bathrooms, they headed straight for the accessible one. They opened the door, dragged him inside, and dropped him on the floor. Derin forced his mouth open.

“Help!”

The second he shouted, she dumped the cola all over him.

For a moment, he went silent, confused. Derin aimed it carefully, pouring most of it right into the crotch of his pants.

Then she crouched and tossed the empty can into the trash over his head.

“Dear Tolga. I don’t know what the rules of this school were when I wasn’t here. But I’m here now. And I have one rule: JUSTICE.”

She stood up and started taking photos of Tolga with Tolga’s own phone.

“Stop, stop, for God’s sake stop! I’m sorry! I regret it! I shouldn’t have done it! Please!”

“Too late.”

She sent the photos to all the group chats. Underneath, she wrote:

“Who’s next?”

As they stepped out of the accessible bathroom, Deniz was still staring at her.

“There’s someone,” he said.

Derin started toward the regular stall. Right then, the door opened.

A well-groomed boy stepped out, about Deniz’s height, wearing clothes that screamed money.

“Aras?” Deniz blurted before he could stop himself.

Derin didn’t take her eyes off him. She tilted her head toward Deniz.

“Your friend?” she asked.

Deniz’s gaze went empty.

“No.”

“Good.” Derin’s voice was calm. “Aras, right? So. Did you see what happened, Aras?”

Aras’s gaze slid to the open accessible bathroom, then to Tolga on the floor. Without saying a word, he angled his head and pointed with his eyes.

Derin stayed strangely composed.

“Mm-mm,” she said. “That’s not the right answer. Think again.”

“I’m guessing you want me to say, ‘I didn’t see anything.’”

Aras put on a sly smile and held up his phone, showing the photo he’d just received and the message beneath it.

Derin didn’t even blink.

“Do you want to be next, Aras?”

She asked softly.

“Right now. Right here.”

Copyright © [gurenomuto], edited by me.

CHAPTER 3 PART I-THE THREAT

Derin walked down the school corridor with a can of cola in her hand. Classes had ended half an hour ago. There was no one left inside.

She ran through the plan one more time. With Deniz’s help, she’d sent that piece of trash an anonymous love letter yesterday. At the end, she’d added a note:

“Tomorrow after school, I’ll be waiting where the hall monitors stand.”

If he didn’t come, she’d switch to Plan B. But that piece of trash would come. She could feel it.

She would give him the cola as a “gift,” keep him busy until the laxative kicked in, and then the real fun would begin.

Derin took a breath. “Don’t lose to your nerves,” she whispered to herself.

She was close. A little farther, then a right turn, and that was it.

As she quickened her pace, a boy’s voice drifted over.

“Aahaha! No, man, I’m still waiting!”

She smiled. With the pride of being right, she squared her shoulders and forced her face back into something neutral.

She was about to step right when what she heard made her stop.

“He didn’t come today, did you see? Ahaha!”

Were they talking about Eren?

She leaned slightly and looked down the corridor on the right. The bastard was sitting at the hall monitor’s desk, grinning into his phone. His back was turned.

“Dude, that loser won’t show up for a week. He’s gonna die of embarrassment!”

So it was Eren.

“Winning bets is literally my job.” So that’s what it was. A bet. That’s why he did all of it.

“Listen. I want my new shoes in two days, got it?”

“Aahaha! That idiot was useful for once.”

“I don’t care, man. Let him go rot at some disabled school!”

Derin couldn’t stop the fire that flared inside her. She felt like a volcano about to split open. The lava was already climbing up her throat.

“W-why? Why? Ahahah!” He was mocking Eren. Straight up imitating him.

Derin slammed her fist into the wall in front of her. Her eyes burned.

Why had she bothered with a plan for this lowlife? Why not just jump him, right here, right now?

“Ooo… New bet? I’m in for a round…”

Derin went cold.

“Crutches, maybe? Hmm…”

That was it.

She couldn’t hold herself back anymore. Her feet moved before her mind could argue.

She came up behind him and tapped his shoulder twice with her fingers.

The second he turned around, her fist was already there, right by his ear.

“Ah!”

His phone flew out of his hand. He toppled off the chair and hit the floor.

“Crutches? A new bet?! You filthy little bastard!”

Derin kicked him hard in the stomach as he curled on the ground.

“Ah! Wh-what are you doing?”

Everything happened so fast he couldn’t even react. The hits didn’t stop.

She dropped onto him and started punching his face. He tried to shove her off, flailing, and finally managed to grab her face.

It didn’t help.

Seconds later, she bit down on his finger.

“Ah! Let go! Let go!”

Derin spat his finger out like it was trash, grabbed his blood-smeared face, and stared at him.

Her eyes were enough to scare a normal person to death. She looked at him, but it felt like she was staring straight into whatever darkness lived inside him.

“So you want crutches, huh? You should’ve said so earlier.”

She stood up, grabbed the edge of the desk, and planted one foot on his leg.

“No! Don’t! Don’t! Please! Ah!”

She pressed down.

“This will take a minute. Legs don’t break just like that. Hold on.”

“Ah!”

“Shh. I’m giving you what you want. Why are you screaming?”

“You’re sick! You’re a psychopath! Ahh!”

Right then, a boy’s voice cut through the air.

“Derin!”

She didn’t hear it.

The boy on the floor tried to scramble away.

“Derin, what are you doing? Stop! He’ll be crippled!”

It was Deniz. He grabbed her from behind, trying to pull her away from the desk.

“Derin, snap out of it! This wasn’t the plan!”

Derin froze, then whipped around to face Deniz.

“To hell with the plan!”

For a second, silence fell between them. Only the boy’s groans filled the corridor.

“Do you get it? To hell with your plan! This piece of trash doesn’t have the guts to report us. He’s too low for that!”

Her voice was so loud Deniz instinctively lifted a hand, like he might have to cover her mouth.

“Shh… Someone could still be in the school. Calm down. I get it. I do. But let’s finish it.”

Derin blinked, like she was coming back to herself.

“You’re right. Okay. Grab his leg. We’ll carry him.”

“Let go! Let me go!”

Derin looked at Deniz.

“First we need to shut him up."

Copyright © [gurenomuto], edited by me.

CHAPTER 2: SWEATING

She saw Eren coming out of the restroom. Someone was with him, helping him along. The way his crutches clicked against the floor gave his trembling away.

Suddenly she opened her eyes wide. Eren was sweating so much his shirt was completely soaked.

“Eren!”

She ran to him and pressed her hand to his face.

“What happened to you?!”

She was wiping the sweat off him, unable to stop the fear spreading through her.

“What happened to you?!”

“What are you doing here?” His voice was shaking. He’d been crying, it was obvious.

“You were gone from class for a long time, so I came to check on you… Forget it, tell me what happened!”

The boy next to Eren spoke up.

“He slipped and fell in the restroom. It’s nothing. We’re going to the infirmary now.”

She studied the boy. Taller than average, curly hair, light freckles, hazel-green eyes. She’d never seen him around Eren before. Was he the one who’d done something to him? The way he talked made it clear he was trying to hide something.

“Who are you?”

“And you are?”

She caught the defiant look in his eyes. Defiant about what, exactly? He didn’t seem malicious, but she decided to push a little more. She touched the arm he’d thrown over Eren’s shoulder and lifted it away.

“I don’t know who you are, but go to class. I’ll handle the rest.”

The boy looked at Eren. Eren’s voice trembled as he spoke, his eyes on the girl.

“He’s my old friend. Neither of you needs to come. I can handle it.”

Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead. He started walking without waiting to hear what they’d say behind him.

The girl stared at the boy’s face more closely and spoke with open suspicion.

“What kind of old friend, exactly?”

Then she hurried after Eren and moved to support him. The boy stayed behind, clearly unsure whether to leave or not. He called out:

“Eren! Is it a problem if I come?”

Eren stopped and looked back.

“Go to class, Deniz.”

“I want to come!”

Eren didn’t answer, just kept walking. Deniz seemed to take that as his answer anyway, because he jogged forward to Eren’s other side and started walking with him.

Eren’s shaking had eased, but his eyes kept filling up, like he was barely holding it in.

The girl broke the silence.

“Was it a bad fall? What did you hit?”

“I fell on my hip. If I lie down a bit, I’ll be fine. It’s nothing.”

She clearly didn’t buy it, because she turned her eyes to Deniz. Deniz instinctively looked away.

Something’s definitely going on, she thought.

When they reached the infirmary, they helped Eren lie down. Both of them intended to stay, but Eren refused.

“I want to sleep for a bit. I can’t sleep while you’re here.”

There was nothing else to do. They stepped out. But Deniz stayed posted by the door.

Seeing someone else do exactly what she had in mind surprised the girl, but she kept her composure. She folded her arms across her chest. One leg straight, planted at a right angle, the other slightly bent. Her expression was suspicious.

“I’m listening, Deniz. Tell me what happened.”

Her voice was low. She didn’t want Eren to hear.

“I told you what happened.”

She stepped closer to Deniz. If she moved even a finger closer, her arms would’ve brushed his chest.

“I said tell me.”

“I don’t know anything else.”

She lifted her phone and showed him the screen. Eren’s photo was on it.

“Eren falls in the restroom and someone sends his photos into group chats!”

After a second of silence, she added:

“Give me your phone.”

Deniz looked stunned. A few seconds later, the shock turned into anger. Now he was the one starting to sweat.

“If they sent that photo to you, then you’re friends with them too!”

“How do you know they took photos? You said you didn’t know anything else.”

Deniz shoved her.

“Enough! Who are you? Just because you hang around Eren doesn’t mean you get to interrogate me!”

Fueled by his anger, Deniz moved to get past her. She tried to trip him. Even in his anger, Deniz saw her leg in time and stepped over it, avoiding the stumble.He took one step closer, tipped her chin up with two fingers, and tightened his jaw, holding her gaze. He was clearly trying to hold himself back as he stared straight into her eyes. From a distance, you could’ve caught flashes of hatred deep in his gaze.

“If you want an enemy, it’s not me. We’re on the same side.”

The words came out of Deniz slow and low. The girl lifted her eyes calmly and replied:

“So we’re on the same side. Then prove it.”

Deniz hesitated. He blinked, then asked:

“How?”

“You saw who took the photos, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“I have a plan.”

Copyright © [gurenomuto], edited by me.

GOING TO THE BATHROOM WITH CRUTCHES

He had been waiting for the restroom to be free for ten minutes. No, there was no one else in the school who used crutches or had any disabilities. So why was the restroom meant for him occupied? Especially when the other seven stalls were empty! He knocked on the door again.

"Class is about to start. Are you coming out or not?"

At that moment, the door opened.

"Sorry, sorry. You can use it now."

He recognized the person leaving. Even though they weren’t in the same class, this guy hung out with some people from his class, occasionally played with his crutches, and always left them in hard-to-reach places when he was done. It wouldn’t be hard to retrieve them for someone else, but the problem was his legs, which lacked sensation. He was in much better condition than two years ago, but he still struggled with bladder control and couldn’t put weight on his legs for more than a few seconds. The doctor had said he would recover over time. In about a year and a half to two years, he would be able to use his legs fully again. Even now, holding in his urine for ten minutes had felt unbearable. He entered the restroom and closed the door.

This time, he wanted to try sitting down without using the grab bars on the side of the toilet. He turned his back to the toilet, unzipped his pants, and let go of his crutches for a moment. He had imagined lowering himself gently onto the seat, but instead, he fell onto it so hard that he let out a small scream. The pain caused him to lose control, and he couldn’t hold it in any longer. Thankfully, his pants weren’t in the way; otherwise, it would have splashed everywhere. A sense of relief washed over him.

When he finished, he looked around. Both of his crutches had fallen.

"Damn it…" he thought. He reached down, grabbed one, then the other, and propped them against the toilet. "Now for the hardest part…" he murmured. He flushed and reached for the grab bar to pull up his clothes. He usually used one hand to lift himself slightly and the other to adjust his underwear and pants. But this time, things didn’t go as planned.

Just as he put his weight on the grab bar, it snapped off, and he lost his balance, crashing onto the floor.

"Ah!"

The floor was wet. It was filthy. And he had landed on his shoulder. How could this happen? These bars were supposed to be sturdy—he had used them just this morning… Then, suddenly, someone knocked on the door.

"Are you okay? I thought I heard a fall…"

He recognized the voice. It was that same guy. So he hadn’t left yet.

"Do you need help?"

Help? The last thing he wanted was for someone to see him like this. He looked around. His crutches were on the other side of the toilet. But the door… the door was within reach. He had no choice. Desperate times called for desperate measures. He reached out and unlocked it.

"Just help me up—"

He couldn't finish his sentence. The guy standing in front of him was holding up his phone, snapping pictures.

"What the hell are you doing?!"

A wave of shame surged through his body, his face turning crimson. He lunged to grab the phone.

"Give me that!"

"Shh! Relax! We’re just having a little fun, that’s all."

Grinning wickedly, he continued taking pictures. He struggled harder to grab the phone, but it was useless. In frustration, he clenched his fists and pounded the floor, unable to stop the tears streaming down his face.

"You’re so naive, man! You didn’t even notice the screwdriver in my hand! Ahahaha!"

Unbelievable. He had loosened the screws on the grab bar on purpose. Just to put him in this position and take pictures…

"Wh-why?"

The words barely left his mouth.

"Why?!"

This time, he shouted.

"Man, you cry too much! What are you, a little kid?"

He rested his head on his clenched fist. He had no energy left.

"You bastard…"

At that moment, a sharp kick landed under his arm.

"Ah!"

The guy grabbed him by the hair, forcing him to look into his eyes.

"Listen to me, watch your mouth. Or else, I'll make you regret it."

Just then, someone rushed into the restroom, shouting his name. That voice… It was so familiar. Just like… Just like when he was a kid…

The newcomer grabbed the other guy by the collar.

What the fuck do you think you're doing, you sick bastard?! You absolute piece of shit!”

He threw a punch.

"Ah!"

Then another. Then he grabbed the guy by the collar and shoved him out of the restroom, swearing all the while.

"Get the hell out of here! Before I lose control and beat you to death! Get lost!"

His voice was slightly hoarse, but his hair and face were the same. They had seen each other in passing at school, but this was the first time he had seen him up close in two years. He reached up, touching his own face, running his fingers through his hair.

"Are you okay? What did he do to you? Did he hit you? Damn it… Let's get your pants on first. I swear, if I ever see that bastard again, I’ll kill him! Disgusting parasite!"

He held onto him and stood up. Then, they started heading toward the infirmary. It would take some time for him to recover from the shock.

He walked toward the classroom. A few minutes earlier, he had overheard the teacher say there would be a quiz today.

“Wonderful… If I fail this one too, I won’t be able to explain it to my family.”

He needed to find someone to cheat from. He paused at the door and threw a casual glance at the students inside. His eyes landed on the class nerd. Definitely a no. He would never let anyone copy. Cross him off. How about the class president?

“He’s on good terms with everyone, maybe he won’t mind…”

That optimistic thought vanished as soon as he remembered where the guy sat—way too far.

 He considered his best friend. He sat right behind him, in the last row. Easy access. But nope. Not smart enough. He walked to his seat with a growing sense of despair, mentally ranking everyone’s academic usefulness.

As he passed the second row, a girl caught his eye.

“Well-dressed, always attends class, grades aren’t bad…”

If only he could convince her…But they’d never really gotten along. She’d never agree to help.

Unless…

Unless his best friend, Aras, was involved. And everyone knew she was into Aras. For like, two years now.

“Then again, what girl isn’t into Aras?”

He was exaggerating. Sure, Aras was popular, but most girls were over him because of his indifferent attitude. But still… things were different when it came to Aras.

Everything was different.

That’s when the light bulb went off in his head. A perfect idea. He smiled and sat down. He turned to Aras.

“There’s a quiz today.”

Aras looked at him silently.

“I’ve got it covered,” he said, flashing a smug little grin.

“How?” Aras asked, curious and a little wary.

“You just have to back me up.”

“What are you planning?”

“Don’t you trust me?”

“No.”

Ouch. That was fast. He felt the need to explain.

“We’re going to use Melisa.”

Aras raised an eyebrow, arms crossed. Just then, the teacher entered the room. Conversation over. But before turning to face the front, he winked at Aras. He tore a page from his notebook and scribbled something random:

“Melisa, your haircut looks amazing. Where’d you get it done?”

He handed it to the guy in front. “Pass this to Melisa. Tell her Aras sent it.”

The message made its way forward. The last student passed it to the girl with a hint of confusion.

When it finally reached Melisa, she hesitated. Then looked back at Aras. Aras looked right back.

After she turned forward, he started rubbing his head like he was annoyed, he lightly punched the guy in front of him—not hard, just enough to get his attention.

“You’re messing around again,” he muttered, “but if this goes to shit, I’m making you pay for it.”

The teacher started roll call.

The response had already arrived. He pretended to pass it to Aras but sneakily read it himself first.

“Thank you! My cousin's a hairstylist, I can take you there if you want! =)”

He couldn’t stop grinning. What a naïve girl. Aras would never say something like that. But of course, Melisa didn’t know him well enough to notice. He glanced at her again. She had turned forward, rested her head on one hand, and was now twirling her hair. He nearly laughed out loud. He had to cover his mouth.

“I’d love to—if there’s a discount. =)”

He scribbled and passed the note again. The teacher had finished roll call and was signing some papers.

Another reply came:

“Don’t be silly! My cousin won’t charge you. You’re my friend, after all!”

“Sure,” he thought. “I bet your cousin gives all your friends free haircuts…”

Aras was poking him from behind. He turned and saw Aras giving him a thumbs-up, whispering:

“If you drag me into this, I swear you’re dead.”

Stupid Aras. If it were him, he’d totally use Melisa. Life at school was just one problem after another. The teacher’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

“We’ll be doing the quiz during second period.”

“Perfect timing,” he thought. He started writing:

“Teacher's doing a test. Did you stu…”

Before he could finish, another note arrived.

“Did you study for the quiz?”

He was surprised. He knew Melisa would help Aras if he asked, but this was even before that. For a second, he felt bad. Maybe he shouldn’t have used her like that? Then he thought about his parents. Two seconds later, the guilt was gone.

“Nope. You?”

He sent it off. Then turned to Aras.

“Quiz is handled. Start thinking about how you’ll thank me.”

Aras was spinning his pen. “We’ll see.”

A moment later, another note from Melisa arrived:

“I’ll write the answers on a tissue and pass it to you during the quiz!”

He grabbed the note and showed it to Aras. “Boom. Done!”

He had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing out loud. “At least say thank you to the girl…”

For a while, Aras stared at the note, then smacked the guy in front of him on the back of the head.

“Give me all the notes!”

“I threw them away!”

Aras grabbed his hair and pulled—nearly slammed the poor guy’s head into the desk.

“I said give them!”

“Alright, alright, don’t freak out!”

Aras started reading through all the notes. When he finished, he rubbed his forehead and let out a long sigh. Then he patted the guy’s shoulder.

“Good job,” he whispered.

---

The warm water hitting his body helped soothe his nerves. He wasn’t usually someone who got stressed easily. But this time, he couldn’t stop the unpleasant thoughts rushing through his mind. A serious injury. It could lead to a permanent disability. “Oh God…” he thought. “Here I go again…” Letting the flowing water wash over him was the best solution he could come up with to drown out the negativity. But it wasn’t working. Flashes of the volleyball match played in his mind. It had all started with a pointless bet. Or rather, he didn’t even know what the bet was. He’d only agreed to play… because of her. He didn’t care about winning. He just wanted to see how she played. Very few people ever sparked his interest—she was one of them. At first, he’d been sure he could beat her with minimal effort. But things had gotten serious, and he’d gotten caught up in the heat of the game. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been that competitive. Just thinking about it made the blood in his veins rush with a strange kind of thrill. Lust. Yes, that girl reminded him of so many feelings he had long forgotten—anger, excitement, fear, ambition, curiosity, surprise… But lust? Was he really feeling that toward her too? He remembered the moment she jumped for a spike; the ball having deflected off a teammate toward her right side. Her entire body had tensed in perfect harmony, her legs spread slightly in mid-air. As she hit the ball, he focused entirely on how her torso flexed so gracefully. Well… maybe not just her torso. Maybe… her breasts. Okay, maybe not a little. “Damn it…” he muttered. Thinking about what had gone through his head at the exact moment she landed and twisted her ankle made him feel awful. Then came that scream of hers— There was something strange in the sound. No—seductive was more accurate. But he preferred calling it strange. At first, he’d kept his distance, watching with cold eyes from afar. But when it became clear her pain wasn’t going away, he walked over to help. “Stay away from me!” That sharp voice and piercing glare. Lust. The doctor had said it was a torn meniscus. She was given a two-week rest order. Whether it would fully heal would depend on how things will progress.

To you— Who took beatings for being left-handed, Whose voice stumbled on every syllable. We haven’t forgotten you.

Sometimes, you fear your heart will finally surrender— And sometimes... Sometimes you wish you were nothing more than the yellow post-it across the room, waiting quietly for someone to scrawl their thoughts upon you, then press you gently against the wall, and simply walk away.

Hi guys! I'll be sharing my short stories on this blog, and below is my first attempt at a short story. Hope you like it! Copyright © [gurenomuto], edited by me. English is not my first language, so I appreciate your understanding! If you are into astrology, my second blog is velmiraa

When he opened his eyes, he found himself lying in a dimly lit room. He tried to get up, but something was holding him back. Tilting his head upward, he realized that his hands were tied together, secured to the bed. A wave of shock hit his body. His legs were also bound separately to the bedposts.

Just as he was trying to make sense of what was happening, he noticed someone sitting beside him on a chair. It was her. And at that moment, everything rushed back into his mind.

"Finally awake," the girl said, standing up from the chair.

"You took just one punch. How does someone as weak as you get away with bossing people around? I don’t get it."

She pulled off her sweater, revealing her school uniform underneath. She usually wore pants, but today, for some reason, she had chosen a skirt. After taking off the sweater, she fanned herself with her hands.

"It's so hot."

He could see the sweat at the roots of her hair. If I had hair that long, I wouldn’t have lasted this long, he thought. Her hair was beautiful. He couldn’t help but smile as he watched her.

"They're nice, aren’t they?"

She had caught him staring. He quickly averted his eyes.

"Real hair."

As if it were the most natural thing in the world, she reached up, grabbed her hair, and with a slight tug, pulled off a wig.

"Don't get the wrong idea. I would never wear my hair that long in real life."

He was stunned. Her real hair was extremely short—barely longer than a guy’s cut.

"It’s called a short bob. Ahaha! You should see your face right now!"

Next, she took off her glasses.

"They're not prescription. I tell everyone I wear them to rest my eyes, but don’t believe that for a second."

She laughed again. But this time, her laughter came out more like a hiss. One of her hands ran through her hair while the other began unbuttoning her shirt.

"What are you doing?!"

The words slipped from his lips before he could stop them. Was she really going to undress? Right in front of him?

The girl burst into laughter.

"How would you feel if I stripped in front of you?"

She had finished unbuttoning her shirt. Then, she climbed onto him, placing her hands on either side of his face. Her eyes were fixed on one particular spot, as if she were analyzing something.

"Looks like I hit you a little too hard. You might be walking around with a bruise for a while."

Again, that hissing laughter. He didn’t know how to feel. The girl in front of him was completely dominating him. It was a feeling he had never experienced before. There was a slight unease in him, but more than that, there was an excitement—an intoxicating desire for this moment to last longer.

Her short hair definitely made her look sexier. Without the glasses, he could see her eyes more clearly. Then his gaze drifted downward—to her neck, and finally to her bra. He bit his lip. A deep wave of lust spread through his body.

A sudden flick on his forehead snapped him out of it. She had tapped his forehead lightly with her fingers.

"If you hadn’t thrown the key out the window, we wouldn’t be sitting here melting in this heat."

This time, he laughed. It was the kind of relaxed, sharp laugh of someone who had just won a victory. The girl grabbed his chin.

"Cut it out. Just tell me where the spare key is."

"Sorry, we’ll have to wait for the real owner to come back."

"Are you kidding me? This is your house!"

"This is where the staff stays."

"Okay… So when is the real owner coming back?"

"I gave them all the day off."

The girl suddenly threw a punch with her left hand. A sharp, pained cry escaped his lips. Then, he started laughing again.

Noticing the blood in his mouth, he stopped for a moment, tasted it with his tongue, then, in a sudden move, spit it toward her face. Or at least, that was his intention.

He must have underestimated her reflexes because she dodged just in time. However, the tips of her hair weren’t so lucky.

She wiped the bloodied spit from her hair with a disgusted expression. Then, she smeared it across his face with her fingers.

"Listen… You can’t do a damn thing to me. I’m several steps ahead of you. So stop wasting my time and tell me where the key is, or else…"

She gestured toward the electric razor on the table.

"Say goodbye to your hair."

He didn’t even hear her last words. Or rather, he didn’t care. His eyes were fixated on her sweaty body. For a brief moment, he imagined her cutting his hair. A sly grin spread across his lips.

"Go ahead. I was going to cut it anyway."

The girl narrowed her eyes.

"Just don’t regret it…"

"You shouldn’t either. By tomorrow, you might find every guy at school with a shaved head."

The girl let out a laugh.

"Every guy? Ahahah! You’re hilarious."

She then calmed down, running her fingers through his hair. He flinched at her touch, watching her closely. Leaning in, she whispered in a soft voice, "Do you really want this?"

She moved closer—so close that he could feel her breath against his face. Their lips barely touched. Anyone watching from a distance would swear she was enjoying this moment.

Somewhere deep in her eyes, for just a fleeting second, there was a flicker—like a small flame igniting. A hint of arousal, perhaps.

He could feel her breath all over his face. The scent of her sweat made his head spin. He had to fight with every ounce of willpower not to kiss her.

Smirking, she whispered again:

"Do you really want this?"

His ears burned. The word escaped his lips before he could stop himself.

"Yes."

She pulled away and picked up the razor. As she slowly turned it on, she spoke:

"Good. Then it’s time to say goodbye to that pretty hair of yours."

The next day, he showed up at school wearing a beanie. When people asked about it, he just said he was tired of his hair.

Apparently, "getting tired of long hair" had become the latest trend. A surprisingly large number of guys had shaved their heads overnight.

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