Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Who’s The Real Puppy Here?

The “tall bald guy outside” presumably referred to Ayase Aoi’s personal bodyguard, Kazuichi Akiyama—a taciturn but fiercely loyal man.  

Following Aoi’s gaze, Sakuya spotted Kazuichi standing silently by the classroom window like a patrolling sheepdog, his expression unreadable. The sleeves of his tailored suit strained against his muscular arms as he crossed them, showcasing intimidating definition.  

His sharp eyes scanned every inch of the room for potential threats to Aoi’s safety.  

Yes, Kazuichi could probably toss someone as frail as Sakuya into Tokyo Bay like a ragdoll. But coming from Aoi, the threat felt more like a flustered attempt to save face—an adorably petty bluff.  

She’s kind of cute like this.  

Sakuya decided to play along—just enough to tease, not enough to provoke. Even rabbits bite when cornered.  

Nodding, she pointed out a flaw in Aoi’s logic with faux sincerity: “Okay, but what about turning pages or taking notes?”  

“Still no crossing the line. I’ll handle all of that.”  

Aoi’s tone brooked no argument, her glare sharp enough to pierce steel.  

Unfazed, Sakuya propped her chin on one hand, tilting her head with an amused smile. The intensity was almost endearing—  

Like a puppy.  

A puppy puffing itself up, hackles raised, growling low in its throat to seem intimidating.  

All bark, no bite. Not even unsheathing its claws.  

The kind of puppy you desperately want to throw a frisbee for.  

Aoi snapped her mechanical pencil lead with a violent press. That radiant grin was unbearable.  

“You look like a dumb mutt when you smile like that…”  

“Who’s the real puppy here?” Sakuya mused silently.  

—The one who waits eagerly by the door for me, who pretends to be scared on Ferris wheels just to cling to me, then flails around on roller coasters like an overexcited husky?  

Aoi’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “What did you just say?”  

“Ah~ I said~” Sakuya drew out the pause, then—”Woof!”  

“You—?!” Aoi pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling sharply. “Never mind. Don’t speak to me from now on.”  

Up front, Futaba-sensei lectured animatedly. Meanwhile, Aoi massaged her temples with one hand while the other drummed irritably on the desk, dissecting why she was so agitated.  

This was their first meeting. So why did Sakuya’s presence feel like a white-hot blade slicing open her chest—searing, unbearable?  

Every cell in her brain screamed in unison: “Stay away! Stay away!”  

She hadn’t lost control like this in years. Why was a stranger unraveling her so completely?  

As if Sakuya held a remote to her emotions.  

Was it those ocean-blue eyes? The golden hair? Or just her hatred for dogs?  

Dogs were pathetic—groveling, wagging their tails at the slightest kindness. Disgusting.  

The more she stewed, the more Sakuya’s scent—citrus and roses, intoxicating as Pandora’s box—clung to her senses.  

Infuriating.  

Finally, Aoi glanced sideways. Sakuya was diligently taking notes, her golden hair cascading like a waterfall, lashes fluttering like butterfly wings. When she tucked a strand behind her ear, the delicate curve of her jaw and the soft shell of her ear formed a profile so exquisite it was distracting.  

“Look at the book, not me,” Sakuya murmured without looking up.  

“I said no talking.”  

Silence fell between them, the only sound Futaba-sensei’s lecturing voice.  

Aoi seethed. This was deliberate—Sakuya’s petty retaliation, and she had no counter.  

Sure, she’d picked the fight first, but wasn’t that how yakuza princesses operated?  

All she’d wanted was for Sakuya to keep her distance. Bowing her head to avoid someone? Unthinkable.  

“Shimizu Sakuya.” She broke first.  

“Hmm?”  

“Can you disappear? Preferably to another hemisphere?”  

Sakuya beamed. “After class ends~”  

—  

The moment the bell rang, Aoi snatched up her chair and retreated to her seat, as if afraid of being glued in place.  

At lunch, most students flocked to the cafeteria or the sakura-lined courtyard. Only a few stragglers remained, catching up on sleep.  

Sakuya stayed behind, waiting for Amami Saori to join her.  

“Sakuya~!” Saori’s bright voice carried from the doorway. She peeked in, waving. “Lunch time!”  

“Come in.” Sakuya cleared her desk, dragging the front-row chair beside her—exactly where Aoi had sat earlier.  

Aoi, now back to her usual aloof self, waited for Kazuichi to deliver her lunch. Propping her chin on one hand, she stared blankly out the window—though her peripheral vision tracked the pair.  

The white-haired girl eating with that mutt wore a high ponytail, her eyes sparkling with confidence. She blended masculine and feminine charm effortlessly—the type Aoi would normally admire.  

Yet watching them stirred an irrational urge to fling a chair at them.  

Why do I care?  

She forcibly turned away, focusing on the sunlit soccer field below. Boys dashed across the emerald grass, their laughter blending with the drifting cherry blossoms.  

A perfect scene—if not for those two chatterboxes.  

“Oh, is she alone? My mom packed extra. Should we invite her? Skipping lunch isn’t good…”  

“…Don’t bother.”  

“Want this tempura? Ah~ say ‘aah’!”  

“Hey! You stole my takoyaki! You have your own!”  

Like nails on a chalkboard.  

Finally, Aoi snapped. She beckoned Kazuichi inside. “Kazuichi. Here. Now.”  

The bodyguard strode over like a summoned attack dog, his bulk stirring a small breeze. “Orders, ojou-sama?”  

For once, his usually inscrutable mistress wore a competitive glint. Chin lifted, she commanded.  

“Eat lunch with me.”  

Hah. So what if she has lunch buddies? I have one too.