Chapter 40

Chapter 40: Why Don’t You Dare Acknowledge Me!

Those who cannot distinguish between reality and illusion are like prisoners lost in the boundless mist—no matter how they run forward or retreat backward, they can never escape the prison of their own hearts.

Fujiwara Yuki was in exactly that kind of state right now.

After finishing the full skincare routine—toner, serum, lotion, and cream—she sat before the vanity mirror with her head slightly bowed, her gaze aimlessly cast to the floor, the highlights in her pupils scattered, her mind absent and dazed.

Her smooth, black hair was slightly tousled from sleep, with a few strands curling up at the ends.

She had already changed into the deep-black school uniform, with a red bow neatly tied at the center of her neck. From head to toe, she looked impeccable.

Everything was ready. As soon as her hair was done, she could go eat breakfast and then head to school.

Once at school, things should get a lot easier.

With that in mind, Shimizu Sakuya was full of motivation. As she gently tucked a few strands of black hair behind her ear, she softly asked for Fujiwara Yuki’s opinion.

“Master, would you like a different hairstyle today?”

Fujiwara Yuki gave a dull “Mm” in response, offering no suggestions at all.

Shimizu Sakuya was a bit surprised—she had expected her to refuse outright.

In other timelines, whenever she tried to braid Fujiwara Yuki’s hair into a princess style or twin tails, the latter would often refuse immediately. Her agreeing so readily now was a rare occurrence.

Thinking of that, Shimizu Sakuya quickened her hands.

First, she parted the hair down the back of her head, splitting it into two sections, then tied each side into high ponytails using jet-black hair ties.

Next, she made a small gap at the base of the ponytail, looped the entire ponytail through it to create volume at the crown, and finally clipped on two bow-shaped hairpins.

And just like that, an ultra-cute, princess-style twin-tailed Fujiwara Yuki was born.

Throughout the whole process, Fujiwara Yuki behaved obediently, showing no resistance whatsoever.

With both hands resting on her shoulders, Shimizu Sakuya leaned sideways near her ear and softly asked,

“Master, how do you like the new hairstyle?”

“Ah…” Feeling the breath at her ear, Fujiwara Yuki’s shoulder trembled. It was as if she had just awakened from a dream.

She looked up at the mirror, seeing a version of herself with a completely different style. Her expression shifted dramatically.

Her delicate brows furrowed and lifted repeatedly, her eyes full of shock and disbelief—it was clear her inner thoughts were in turmoil.

In the end, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath to calm herself down.

Shimizu Sakuya blinked and asked again, “You don’t like it?”

Suddenly, Fujiwara Yuki snapped her eyes open, stood up, and took a step back. The sharp screech of the chair legs dragging across the floor rang out clearly in the quiet room.

There was a trace of uncontrollable anger in her eyes, and her expression had turned serious.

It was unclear what had provoked her. Just a moment ago, she had been applying lotion with such tenderness—and now, as if possessed by another soul, she glared at Sakuya fiercely.

Her tone was like icicles from a deep freeze, sharp and cutting.

“Have I been too gentle with you, that now you think you can control me?”

Fujiwara Yuki’s emotions were odd, and Shimizu Sakuya couldn’t figure out why she was so angry.

By nature, she should have been someone who buried all her emotions deep within.

Though she once knew Fujiwara Yuki very well…

But knowing someone’s personality doesn’t mean you can treat them like a fixed template, easily manipulated.

Different experiences during growth shape different aspects of personality.

Very few people can remain unchanged after ten years of facing society’s grinding.

Yet this sudden shift in demeanor, this fierce and sharp tone, left Shimizu Sakuya at a total loss.

Why was she angry? Wasn’t it she herself who had agreed to the new hairstyle?

Now was not the time to argue—she could only go along with her, let her vent.

Shimizu Sakuya also stepped back, her thigh pressing up against the edge of the vanity.

The distance between them stretched far, as if a vast river now flowed between them.

Feeling completely baffled, Shimizu Sakuya asked innocently, “Hmm? What do you mean, Master? Why would I try to control you?”

“You clearly know what you’re doing—how you manipulate me, how you lie to me—do I need to spell it out?”

She aggressively interrogated, angrily pulling out the bow clips and undoing the twin tails.

Her long hair fell loose again, and her golden vertical pupils were as cold and sharp as blades catching the light.

She had returned to the distant, untouchable ice queen she was when they first met.

Fujiwara Yuki wasn’t the type to be moody or erratic.

Even when she entertained twisted ideas, she would wear a smile to conceal her malicious intentions.

When embarrassed by physical contact, she would simply send people away.

The only time she had completely lost control was in the bathroom. At all other times, she could calmly rein in her emotions, wearing her mask perfectly.

So this reaction was very out of character.

Why would she use words like “manipulation” and “lying”?

Shimizu Sakuya’s eyes widened. A ridiculous thought suddenly crossed her mind.

Could such a drastic emotional shift be caused by—her giving her a cute, princess-style twin tail?

Impossible.

Even the still-immature Fujiwara Yuki couldn’t possibly get mad over that.

Everyone from the Fujiwara family wore a mask, fluttering like brilliantly patterned butterflies through the garden of social affairs.

They formed cliques, forged bonds through money, favors, and arranged marriages, building a vast, solid web of human connections.

All their sharp edges had long been smoothed out, and their true thoughts buried under emotional masks, rarely showing vulnerability.

That left only one obvious possibility—she was testing her.

Yes, a person’s words may lie, but their actions do not.

So she didn’t believe what she had said in the bath.

Shimizu Sakuya suddenly understood—her task now was simply to play dumb.

She feigned panic and waved her hands, steering the conversation back to the twin tails.

“Master, didn’t you already agree to let me style your hair? Where does manipulation even come into it?”

The HE-route Fujiwara Yuki may have escaped the Fujiwara family, but the twisted part of her personality had only been masked by blind love.

That’s right—she had transferred all of those extreme, unresolved emotions onto her, obsessively controlling her with a possessiveness beyond reason.

But because the story involved mutual love, it had all worked out in peace.

Now, Fujiwara Yuki pressed forward step by step, forcefully closing in.

Shimizu Sakuya didn’t even have time to think anymore—her hips had already bumped into the vanity.

With her hands pressed against the table behind her, she was completely cornered. Fujiwara Yuki’s soft chest was nearly pressing against her.

Lifting her chin, eyes burning like molten gold about to erupt, her cherry lips parted with a threatening tone.

“You’re still lying! If you won’t tell the truth—do you want me to say it, for you?”

“What truth?”

Gritting her teeth in exasperation, she lightly cupped Shimizu Sakuya’s cheek with her right hand, and questioned her, one word at a time.

“Why don’t you dare acknowledge me?”