I'm Being Threatened by My Sister's Ex-girlfriend. (GL) - Chapter 21

In the world of dreams, Hakobe was there, looking as if it were completely natural.

It seems that some people can recognize when they’re in a dream, and some cannot. I’m the type who can tell. Usually, it’s the scent that gives it away.

In the dream, she was scentless—none of that sweet vanilla-like fragrance she usually carries. Her pink lips moved, and I thought I heard her voice, like the chirp of a small bird, but I couldn’t make out what she was saying. The only thing clear was her teasing smile, a slightly sadistic one, as she looked up at me.

“Senpai.”

That was the first time the words made sense.

Hakobe, in her uniform, jumped into my chest. Her delicate, fragile body felt softer than in my memories.

“I like you, Tsuguno-senpai.”

My arms lifted and wrapped around her back. The smooth fabric brushed against my fingers.

But when I paid more attention, I realized it wasn’t fabric—it was her skin. I traced her bare back, unimpeded.

Something felt off. I hadn’t been waiting for a memory of embracing someone naked, so where did this sensation come from?

“Hakobe.”

I called her name, and she lifted her head from where she had been burying her face near my collarbone.

Her lips came closer.

That’s when I woke up.

The room, which I had set the air conditioner timer to turn off, was stuffy and humid.

I crawled out of bed, took two sips of tap water, and opened a bag of stick bread I had left on the fridge. I nibbled at it. The small amount of chocolate chips melted on my tongue, and the sweet taste spread in my mouth.

“Ahhh…”

No, no, no, no.

I sank to the floor in a slump.

The remnants of the dream, which usually fade quickly, clung to me like sweat-soaked clothes that wouldn’t come off.

They say dreams are just a reconstruction of memories. I know Hakobe in her uniform. I know the feeling of being hugged, and the kiss too. Unwillingly, they all combined to form that kind of dream. That’s all. It must be.

Even if that’s the case… no, that’s what it is.

But still…

Wait, seriously?

I admit she’s good-looking. Her features are well-balanced, and honestly, she has the kind of face I like, even as a girl. But what about her personality? Would I want to be friends with her? No way. She’s the kind of person who’d threaten someone with their personal information. I’d rather not get close.

And what’s with this “senpai” business?

But… someone inside my head whispers, “She’s not such a bad person, you know. Sure, the way we met was terrible, but we get along well when we talk, and the way her hair is done, and how she seems like a literature girl, that’s a pretty high score, don’t you think? And she’s from Mihama University’s affiliated school. You like smart people, right? Like Hayasegawa.”

“Shut up, be quiet.”

With a foggy mind, I headed to the university. I met up with Hayasegawa before the second class started.

“What’s with that face?”

Hayasegawa looked at me with a puzzled expression.

“You look like you haven’t slept all night.”

She gently stroked my cheek. When I glanced at myself in the mirror earlier, I didn’t think I looked that bad. Maybe the summer sun drained whatever little energy I had left before I even reached the campus.

We both had the third period free. When this happens, Hayasegawa usually goes to the club building, and I check my social media to pass the time. But today was different.

“I’d rather you not pass out from heatstroke; it’d leave a bad feeling.”

She said this and dragged me into an empty classroom.

“Let’s kill some time together.”

Hayasegawa took something out of her lavender shoulder bag and placed it on the table. She read the English written on the box aloud. She then added, “It means ‘four’ in Italian.” It wasn’t English, though.

Inside the box were a board and two types of pieces. The pieces were about the size of a pinky finger, some round, some square, some with holes, and others without.

“You take turns placing pieces on the board. You need to line up four pieces with either the same color, height, shape, or hole/no hole. The first to do so wins.”

“Hayasegawa, you carry stuff like this around all the time?”

“Yeah.”

“When do you even use it?”

“Like right now,” Hayasegawa smiled.

She rested her elbow on the table and placed her chin on her palm in a way that looked so effortless it could’ve been a painting.

“One more thing. The opponent chooses the piece you place. That’s pretty much the rules.”

“Got it. Probably. But I’m really sleepy right now.”

“You’re so tough. Fine, let’s make a bet.”

Why is it a “bet” now? I pouted, and Hayasegawa added:

“If you win, I’ll let you rest your head on my lap.”

My eyes involuntarily dropped. Today, she was wearing denim shorts that looked like something a K-pop idol would wear. Her boldly exposed thighs reflected the fluorescent light, glowing white.

“And if I lose?”

“A canned coffee is enough.”

“I’m in.”

There was no way I’d win against Hayasegawa in games like this, and I was practically half-asleep. So, the bet wasn’t based on my intelligence or attention; it was on Hayasegawa’s kindness.

“I’ll let you go first.”

Her long fingers picked up a wooden piece and placed it in my palm. The tips of her gel nails brushed against the base of my thumb, making it feel ticklish.

“Any tips?”

I grabbed a dark-colored piece, probably walnut, and placed it in the center of the board. I then picked up a lighter-colored piece and handed it to Hayasegawa.

“Just be careful.”

Hayasegawa placed her piece next to mine. While the height and color were different, both pieces had holes in them.

“The clever part of this game is that you get to choose the piece your opponent places. If you’re not careful, you might end up tying your own hands.”

“I see.”

The pieces gradually filled the board. We exchanged turns while engaging in casual conversation about various things—recipes for homemade meals, manga we’d recently read, and the dynamics within the club that Hayasegawa belonged to.

“As the board starts filling up,” Hayasegawa said, “there are moments when I pray.”

“Pray for what?”

This game had no element of luck. Hayasegawa squinted her eyes, looking somewhat distant, and spoke in a voice that seemed almost detached.

“Pray that my opponent doesn’t notice something.”

I was handed a small, round piece. As I twirled it between my fingers, I reviewed the board. After staring at it for a while, the solution became clear.

I placed the piece and, saying the word for “4” in Italian, I won the game.

She was still kind, after all.

“Let’s change locations. I can’t lie down here.”

Hayasegawa quickly packed up the pieces and grabbed her shoulder bag.

“I know a good spot. Follow me.”

Between the business school building and the university library, we found a small gazebo about the size of a one-room apartment—it felt like a secret hideout. If this were an open-world RPG, I would definitely mark it as a location to visit. It was that out-of-place and hidden from the rest of the campus.

“I heard from a senior that there’s a great spot for napping,” she said.

True to her word, there were no other people there. It made sense. This gazebo wasn’t visible from the main street, and it wasn’t listed on the campus map either.

There was a U-shaped wooden bench and a table. Surprisingly, neither of them was particularly dirty.

“Go ahead, have a seat.”

Hayasegawa sat on the bench, her knees neatly together.

I checked around to make sure no one was nearby, then sat down next to her. The warmth of her body transferred to my left side.

For now, I leaned my body sideways.

My ear pressed between the hard skull and her soft thigh.

“So, how are my thighs?” she asked.

“Soft,” I replied.

Hayasegawa’s thighs were smooth and cool to the touch, and they felt surprisingly comfortable.

“Do you think you can sleep?” she asked.

“I don’t know…”

Even if the pillow is of great quality, everything else is just a hard bench. The walk had helped to shake off some of the drowsiness. The breeze flowed through, and with a roof overhead, it was a lot more bearable, though the temperature was still an issue.

“So, Hayasegawa…”

Having lost track of my sleepiness, I spoke up.

“When was your first love?”

“That came out of nowhere.”

“Come on, just tell me.”

I adjusted my neck and looked up. Wow, I thought. Half of my view was covered by the curve of the bench.

“It was with my tutor. Back in middle school.”

After a slight pause, Hayasegawa replied. Her chest was in the way, so I couldn’t make out her expression.

“Nice. That sounds about right.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, it’s very ‘you’. It’s not like you fell for some basketball player in your class, but a teacher or a college student—just feels like something you’d do.”

“Hmph. What do you know?”

She said it with a hint of pout.

Hayasegawa’s fingers brushed my bangs. Surprisingly, her touch was gentle, adjusting the ends of my hair.

“What do you think I should do if I can’t forget my first love?”

“Huh?”

This time, her voice was filled with a sense of disbelief. I quickly defended myself, saying it was about a friend’s story.

“So, you were actually that innocent?”

“It’s really just my friend’s story. It’s more unreasonable for you to believe this is my story, but still.”

“Hmm.”

The summer breeze blew away the rising humidity. After a sincere pause, Hayasegawa spoke again.

“It’s impossible.”

“That’s blunt.”

“Essentially, it’s impossible. People are fragile like stones. When you connect with someone, you can easily crack or break. Whether it’s friendship, love, or malice, stones break. Once they break, you start looking for something that fits the broken pieces. It doesn’t always have to be another person, though.”

She paused and continued.

“You can’t just pretend that any encounter didn’t happen.”

I didn’t mind her roundabout way of speaking, though I wasn’t in the mood for philosophical talk. I wanted something more ordinary and straightforward.

“So, how did you get your heart broken, Hayasegawa?”

“You’ve been unusually talkative today.”

“Come on, tell me.”

“…I confessed like everyone else, and got rejected like everyone else.”

“How typical.”

“Is it?”

Before I could respond, Hayasegawa’s palm covered my eyes. They say the size of your hands is proportional to your height. Hayasegawa’s hands were big and warm.

“Just sleep. I’ll wake you up when the bell rings.”

A gentle warmth spread through my eyes. The sleepiness I had lost track of slowly crept up from my stomach, and before I knew it, I had fallen asleep easily.