For some reason, the saint of our school drops her façade when she's with me (GL) - Chapter 18

The next morning, I woke up feeling awful.

I’d had sleepless nights before, but this was the worst I had ever felt.

“I’m pathetic.”

I hadn’t been able to say anything.

For a brief moment, I had almost managed to put my feelings into words.

But the moment I became aware of them, the deep-seated fear that I had never noticed before—shaped like my mother’s lingering shadow—held me back.

…No, that’s just an excuse.

The truth is, I was terrified.

Terrified that the feelings I had just realized would be shattered so soon.

What a small, cowardly person I am.

I felt disgusted with my own weakness.

I wanted to vomit.

“I need to get up.”

Dragging my heavy body out of bed, I forced myself to get ready.

I felt so awful that I wanted to skip school.

But I couldn’t.

Someone as ordinary—no, someone less than ordinary—like me had no choice but to keep moving forward, one step at a time.

When I arrived at the classroom, the Saint was nowhere to be seen.

There was still some time before homeroom started, but after everything that had happened yesterday, I couldn’t shake the bad feeling creeping up my spine.

Just as my unease grew stronger, the Saint arrived right before homeroom.

“You’re late today.”

“I had some business to take care of.”

She smiled as if nothing was wrong, her expression as flawless as ever. She took her seat without raising a single suspicion from our classmates.

I wanted to say something.

But I didn’t know what to say.

As my thoughts kept circling, I thought I saw the Saint glance at me for a split second.

…Enough hesitation.

I pulled out my phone and sent her a message.

“You were late today. Did something happen?”

I avoided mentioning yesterday and simply asked about this morning.

A message marked as ‘Read’ popped up almost immediately, followed by a reply.

“I got into an argument with my mother. It was a deadlock.”

Her mother… The same woman who had arranged her marriage meeting.

“What about lunch today?”

“I’d love to eat together. But as long as my mother is here, I don’t think I can.”

“Did she forbid it? Or does she just not like me?”

“Neither. She’s just stubborn about things like this.”

Did she not trust homemade food from outsiders or something?

That seemed possible, given the kind of household the Saint came from.

A moment later, another message arrived.

“I want to eat your bento again.”

I stared at the screen for a moment before replying.

“I’ll make one for you anytime.”

Immediately, she sent back an excited stamp.

Our connection wasn’t completely severed yet.

That was a small relief.

But at the same time, I wondered—was she being careful?

Was she deliberately keeping her distance to avoid having our connection cut off entirely?

I didn’t know.

What I did know was that I didn’t know enough about the Saint.

I wanted to know more.

I wanted to be closer to her.

But… was there anything I could do?

Did I even have the right to interfere in her family affairs?

I, who had been abandoned by my own parents…

After school, I went to the clubroom.

But the Saint never showed up.

She was probably busy.

Or maybe she was stuck dealing with her mother.

My thoughts kept looping as I walked home alone.

Then—

“Excuse me. May I trouble you for a moment?”

A voice called out from behind me.

When I turned around, I saw a woman dressed in a kimono.

She had stunning silver hair and striking blue eyes.

A breathtaking beauty.

A foreigner, perhaps?

Something about her features felt strangely familiar.

“Uh… Can I help you?”

“This store… Do you know where it is?”

She held out a map, her Japanese slightly accented but understandable.

I glanced at the location she had marked.

Oh, that’s Tame-san’s diner.

I’d been there a few times with my uncle, so I knew the way.

“Yes, I know it. I can show you if you’d like.”

“Oh! That would be most helpful!”

She beamed brightly, full of warmth and energy.

“Let’s go!”

As we started walking, she looked at me curiously.

“High school student?”

“Yeah.”

“My granddaughter is about your age!”

…Granddaughter?

Wait—granddaughter?!

“You mean your child, right?”

“No, granddaughter! Why, is something strange?”

“Uh, well… You don’t look old enough to have a granddaughter.”

At first glance, she looked like a young woman in her early twenties—someone you might mistake for a college student.

Would someone with more life experience be able to tell that she was actually older, with a husband, children, and even a grandchild?

My uncle might be able to.

He can be a bit dense about people’s feelings toward him, but when it comes to everything else, he tends to be sharp.

“How old do you think I am?”

“Umm… around twenty, maybe?”

“Wow! I guess I still got it!”

She beamed with pride, her joy practically radiating off her.

There was something about her… Her way of laughing was different, but she felt familiar, like someone I knew.

“Do you enjoy school?”

“Yes.”

“But you seem a little lonely.”

“You think so?”

“Enough to make me want to flirt with you.”

…Was she hitting on me?

I knew there were people who pretended to ask for directions just as an excuse to start a conversation, but someone as stunning as her probably didn’t need to go through all that effort.

And if she were looking for someone to flirt with, I highly doubted she’d choose someone like me.

“Well, I guess you could say I’ve got the typical worries of a high school student.”

“Ah, youth! So many troubles, so many possibilities!”

Her eyes sparkled with curiosity, but before she could pry further—

“We’re here.”

“Oh! You’ve been such a help!”

She grabbed my hands and shook them enthusiastically, her gratitude overflowing.

“As thanks, let me treat you to a meal!”

“Ah—no, I’ll pass for today. But thank you.”

I wasn’t exactly in the mood to eat with someone right now.

“Then I’ll invite you next time!”

She insisted on exchanging contact information.

It wasn’t that I had been charmed by a beautiful foreign woman or anything—

But for some reason, she felt strangely familiar.

Like someone I knew.

And before I knew it, I had given her my contact details.

If it had been anyone else, I probably would have refused.

I watched as she waved goodbye, still as energetic as ever.

Then, I turned back toward home, trudging along at my usual slow pace.

Even after getting home, my thoughts kept spiraling downward.

“What should I do?”

Lying on my back, staring at the ceiling, I muttered to myself.

There were too many things I didn’t know.

Too many things I wanted to know.

But did I even have the right to know them?

Did I even have the means to do anything?

What was I supposed to do with these feelings?

Just as I was sinking deeper into my thoughts, my phone vibrated.

For a moment, I thought it might be the foreign woman from earlier.

But when I checked the screen, I saw a message from the Saint instead.

“This is the worst.”

The words flashed across my lock screen.

I sat up abruptly, my fingers trembling as I unlocked my phone.

I needed to see the full message.

“My mother is being too stubborn. Even when she’s away for work, she’s making sure I can’t act on my own. She even called my grandmother to stay with me. She knows I don’t get along with that woman. Isn’t that just cruel?”

Her mother had brought in reinforcements.

“What kind of person is she?”

“Loud and exhausting.”

If the Saint found her hard to deal with, then…

Could she be like that foreign woman I met earlier today?

The Saint never seemed comfortable around people with too much energy.

Just as I was wondering—

“I want to see you.”

A message that made my breath catch in my throat.

“But I can’t come to you.”

“Are you forbidden?”

“If I go, I’ll only cause trouble for you.”

I started to type—I don’t mind.

I didn’t mind.

But before I could send it, my fingers hesitated.

If even the Saint—who always saw right through me—was saying this, then she must have thought that me getting involved would only make things worse.

“What are you having for dinner?”

I erased my previous message and sent that instead, deflecting the conversation.

I knew I was running away.

I knew I was pathetic.

And in the back of my mind, I could feel the ghost of my mother’s voice whispering—

Telling me that I was still chained to her.

That I was still her daughter.

I needed courage.

I needed the strength to break free from those invisible chains, to overcome my own weakness.

But at the same time—

I knew that if I took that step, everything would change.

My relationship with the Saint would change.

And I, too, would become someone different.

Would the Saint still look at me the same way?

Would I still be myself?

“…God, I’m such an idiot.”

I was afraid.

I could make all the excuses in the world, but deep down, I knew the truth.

I was terrified of being rejected.

I forced myself to keep chatting with the Saint over text, trying to bury the fear inside me.

After that, I ate something—though I barely tasted it—then mindlessly took a bath and collapsed into bed.

It was going to be another long night.

My body was exhausted.

But I had no confidence that I would be able to sleep.

I knew I had to do something.

I had to move forward.

But I couldn’t.

And as I lay there in the dark, I could hear it—

The voice of my mother’s ghost, whispering—

“In the end, you’ll become just like me.”