Chapter 111: A Morning Scented with Mint

The dusk felt somewhat lonely, and the school building was quiet, devoid of anyone else. The classroom was empty, save for two figures standing on the podium. The boy was handsome and tall, looking down at the petite, beautiful girl before him.

A terrible Yukino and a terrible Haruhi Haruno.

Terrible? This was the first time anyone had used that adjective to describe her. Kiyoryo Yukino didn't know how to react—should she be angry, or just offer a disdainful smile?

"Sigh, your physical condition is mediocre to begin with, and I didn't expect your experience to be this poor either. Yukino-san, you really should learn a thing or two from your sister." Haruno Haruhi stroked his chin, gave her a thorough, critical once-over, and finally delivered a pitying verdict.

Kiyoryo Yukino knew exactly what this jerk was implying! Hearing that tone of utter disappointment, the young lady—who usually maintained a facade of refined upbringing and generous grace—suffered a mental breakdown once again, and in front of the same person, no less. If he had insulted her looks, she might have just offered a scornful smile, but to call her unremarkable? That was a bridge too far.

Lies don't hurt, but the truth is a sharp blade.

Having endured enough, Yukino decided to take matters into her own hands while Haruno was still pretending to be an invigilator, lecturing as if he owned the world. She landed a punch on his stomach, followed quickly by a kick—a fluid, seamless sequence of movements.

"Ouch!" Haruno felt a sharp pain in his abdomen. He looked up at Yukino’s icy expression, genuinely surprised that she, just like her sister, would resort to fists. "Why are you just like your sister? What century is this? Still resorting to violence?"

Wasn't this just being a sore loser? The violent genes in that family were clearly hereditary!

"Hmph!" Yukino felt a sudden sense of mental clarity, a refreshing feeling washing over her. She realized the irritability she had been feeling lately was all because of this guy. She had transferred schools under orders, and for what? To observe this annoying person? There was nothing worth observing here.

How infuriating. Thinking back to her father’s description of Haruno—upright, handsome, promising? Like he was back in the day? Pfft! Not a single word of that matched! He was just a total lecher!

Without sparing another glance at the grimacing Haruno, she snorted and turned to leave. Her beautiful, youthful silhouette soon vanished from sight, the sound of her footsteps fading down the hallway.

After crouching for a while, Haruno finally recovered. He tidied up the mess and walked out of the classroom with his briefcase.

The mid-November sunset painted the sky orange, masking the indigo depths of twilight as if the day were taking its final bow. Beautiful sunsets always stirred melancholic memories; in the face of such a magnificent sight, lovely young girls couldn't help but take out their phones to snap a few pictures. Haruno couldn't help but wonder if having a Sony FE 24-240mm lens would have helped him get the contact information of twenty pretty girls that afternoon. He wanted to create a miracle, but without the equipment, could he just rely on his face?

In the distance, on the athletic field, club members were still training, pouring out their sweat and youth. Even though they looked exhausted, they appeared vibrant and happy. As he reached the entrance of the club activities building, he could hear the overlapping sounds of the choir and the symphony orchestra, along with various instruments—the artificial sounds drowning out the human cries of youth.

Indeed, man-made things are always a bit more powerful than the real thing.

Haruno shook his head, walked through the building, and headed toward a quaint courtyard in the back. This was the practice area for the Archery Club. A few students in traditional uniforms sat scattered about, showing no surprise at his arrival. Some had even joked that the Archery Club’s average attractiveness crushed all other departments, thanks to Kiyoryo Miron and Terashima Kanae, plus their "extra-curricular staff member," Haruno Haruhi.

He kicked off his shoes and stepped onto the squeaky wooden floor, greeting everyone he passed with practiced ease.

"Haruno-kun, you're here!" Takezawa Eijiro, a third-year student who hadn't stepped down as captain yet, walked over to greet him warmly.

"Captain Takezawa, hello." Haruno nodded. Since the other party had taken the initiative, he returned the courtesy. Besides, he genuinely liked the guy—sunny, upright, kind, helpful, and generous. Just like himself.

"Since Kiyoryo is here, you’re bound to show up too. Why don't you just join our Archery Club? Then you two lovebirds could shine together on the stage of the National Tournament!" Even as a senior, Takezawa remained devoted to the club. After all, he had been the one to rescue the failing club in his first year and lead it all the way to the Nationals. Although they had lost in the end, he was a living legend in the school.

"I'll pass. I’m afraid if I get out there and try to draw a bow, I’ll be laughed to death. I’d lose face for the school and the club, and more importantly, for the honorable Miss Kiyoryo. I might get killed for it." Haruno shook his head. This wasn't the first time he’d declined the invitation. He couldn't draw a bow or nock an arrow, so joining would truly be an embarrassment.

Besides, Haruno wouldn't care if he lost face for the school, but if he embarrassed the young lady and made her unhappy, he’d be banned from the bedroom for at least two days.

"Ah, that’s a real shame," Takezawa said with a regretful look. If he could officially recruit Haruno, the Archery Club would never lose to anyone in terms of looks and popularity. Then he could leave without worries.

"Would I kill you?" A clear, crisp voice suddenly rang out. Kiyoryo Miron, dressed in her archery uniform, appeared before them. With her slender figure and cold, elegant temperament, holding her longbow, she looked like a maiden from a legend.

"Kill? I was just saying my clumsy archery skills aren't worthy of you, Kiyoryo-san." Haruno’s ability to change his tune left Takezawa speechless. Perhaps that was the only way to win over the most fiery girl in the academy.

"Kiyoryo-san, the National Tournament is coming up soon. You need to practice hard; we need you to widen the gap in the individual events." Takezawa gave a polite nod to Miron and wisely took his leave, giving the couple some space.

"You're amazing, Kiyoryo-san! Only a first-year, and already representing the school at the Nationals!" Haruno leaned in, not only flattering her but also giving her firm, shapely backside a light tap.

"Stop with the sweet talk. Why are you so late today?" Miron cut straight to the point.

"I had duty today, I couldn't help it," Haruno said with a troubled expression. "That guy Heisuke was throwing trash everywhere. I found so much under his desk—cleaning it up took forever."

Miron didn't speak; she just looked at him silently. Her expression said, *Keep lying. Keep going. See if I believe you.*

"Heaven is my witness, Kiyoryo-san! You don't doubt me, do you?" Haruno cried out, feigning injustice.

"You know what I want to say," Miron said calmly. Her small nose twitched, as if she could smell something.

"The sunset is really beautiful, isn't it?"

"Haruno Haruhi."

"Look, Kiyoryo-san, it's truly gorgeous."

"..."

"I swear, I really didn't do anything to Ogata Yuriko."

"..."

"Really, it's the truth! A bright, kind, and capable Tokyo youth like me—you have to believe me, Kiyoryo-san!"

"..."

"Um, could you let go? If you pull any harder, it’s going to break..."

"..."

"If not for my sake, do it for your own happiness! Do you really want a disabled husband, Haruno Miron?"

...

November 15th, sunny, cloudless.

The morning sun rose slowly. Haruno and Momotani Eri parted ways in the small courtyard. The older woman headed toward the second floor, her graceful, lithe figure—likely the result of long-term fitness—wearing very little despite the autumn chill. Haruno watched her until she disappeared from sight.

There wasn't a single trace of age on Momotani Eri; she was the ultimate example of perfection. She possessed both the mature, intellectual beauty of a woman and a firm, vibrant body. Haruno would never forget the system's first assessment of her: *Without a strong body, she is likely to pass away in her prime.* It must be true.

Returning to his rented apartment, the young lady was still fast asleep, a thin blanket draped over her youthful, curvy frame.

"Wake up, time for breakfast," Haruno said, sitting on the edge of the bed and studying the beautiful girl.

"Mmm..." Miron murmured groggily, but she fell straight back into a rhythmic breathing pattern. In her sleep, she looked peaceful, her soft, slightly drooling face a stark contrast to her usual high-energy self.

Haruno couldn't resist leaning in to kiss her corner of her mouth. Miron remained asleep, though she instinctively began to respond. They held each other and kissed for a while before Miron pushed him away with a look of disdain.

"Behave yourself in the morning." Her golden hair was a mess from the night. She reached up and gave it a casual toss. "Get up. I’ll make breakfast. Go brush your teeth."

Haruno reluctantly moved his hands away. Miron was speechless. *What happened to the foot-fetishist? Why does he insist on holding me all night?* She gave him a light tap, then sluggishly began to get dressed. Finally, she found her Crayon Shin-chan pajamas on the sofa and tossed them into the laundry basket in the bathroom without a second thought. It was full of both their underwear.

Breakfast was simple: vegetarian oatmeal and two sandwiches. It took less than seven minutes to prepare, but the young lady was still in the bathroom. Haruno walked in, hugged her slender frame from behind, buried his face in her golden hair, and took a deep breath.

Miron tilted her head back, a hint of toothpaste foam on her lips. She turned around, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed him. Minty toothpaste. She brushed his teeth for him all over again.

The flavor lingered. In the end, the breakfast went cold. The sandwiches were fine, but cold oatmeal was truly unpalatable. Fortunately, it didn't take much effort to make two more bowls.

The sound of water flowed in the bathroom. Miron was washing up—a beautiful girl and Haruno were different in that regard. Boys were casual and could get away with anything, but girls had to wash up after sweating, or they’d feel uncomfortable all over.

When Miron finished, Haruno walked out of the kitchen with two steaming bowls of milk oatmeal. The small living room was instantly filled with the rich scent of milk.

"In the future, please don't come in and disturb me while I'm washing up. It's very troublesome," Miron complained. The young lady was lodging a strong protest against what Haruno had just done.

"Really? You seemed to be enjoying it just fine," Haruno countered, exposing her true feelings. *You want to play the saint after getting your fill?*

"I was only doing that for you," Miron said, taking a sip of oatmeal, a bit of it sticking to her rosy lips. She looked adorable. An adorable Kiyoryo-san like this should be experienced in all sorts of places.

"Anyway, don't you dare think about touching me again without my permission!" This was the young lady's ultimatum. He wanted to argue, but seeing her tiny raised fist, he decided against it.

...

They stepped off the train, holding hands as they walked up the slope toward school. At one point, he had hated this road, thinking that if he ever made it big, he’d make this stretch even longer. That’s right—not tear it down, but double it. If he had to walk through the rain, he’d make sure to tear everyone else's umbrellas to shreds.

His dirty thoughts were sharply detected by Miron.

"What are you thinking about in that head of yours?"

"Psychology and bridge slope design."

...

Reaching the top of the hill, the morning autumn wind blew against them. Her coat billowed, and the young lady instinctively huddled behind Haruno. The big boy had found his purpose. Perhaps, this is how a boyfriend is meant to be used...

Thank you for your support, everyone.

(End of chapter)