Unbearable - Chapter 44

Chapter 44: It’s All Yu Wei’s Fault!

 

The cake box in her hand banged into the door with a loud thud.

 

Yu Wei didn’t hear it. She leaned back against the door, her breathing rising and falling with such intensity it felt like the door behind her was moving with it. Her heartbeat and breath echoed in her ears.

 

“I’m sorry. I was in such a rush. I didn’t mean to scare you,” Yu Wei said, standing outside the door, her palm pressed flat against it. “Can you open the door?”

 

There was no response from inside.

 

Yu Wei frowned, her fingertip curling slightly against the wood as she lowered her voice. “I wanted to wait until everything was ready before officially confessing. After your birthday, after the competition, or when we leave this place.”

 

Ever since she realized they liked each other, she’d made a plan in her head—holding back, enduring.

 

But now, she had nothing. Everything had gone wrong. Faced with sudden separation and emotional turmoil, her defenses shattered, and she lost control.

 

“This is the first time I’ve found waiting to be so unbearable. We clearly like each other. Why not just go for it?”

 

Yu Wei spread her fingers wide, palm still pressed against the door. “You said you didn’t care if people knew about us, and I was really happy to hear that.”

 

Quivering, Yu Wei slid down the door and sat on the floor.

 

The cake box tumbled beside her, forgotten. She had no energy to care about it.

 

She couldn’t even hear Yu Wei’s voice clearly anymore. Her pounding heartbeat and surging pulse drowned everything out.

 

How… how could this be happening?

 

They were supposed to be sisters… weren’t they?

 

“You…” Yu Wei bit her lip, her brows tightly furrowed. “…You don’t like me?”

 

Her voice was soft, low, hesitant, muffled slightly through the door. Yet somehow, it landed perfectly in Quivering’s ears.

 

Her face, buried in her hands, burned.

 

She’d just pursed her lips, then quickly opened them again—and it still felt like that warm, soft sensation lingered on them.

 

She raised her hand to her mouth, paused, then wiped across her lips.

 

Don’t like her?

 

Maybe… she didn’t not like her.

 

But they were sisters! The kind whose names would be written together in the same household registry.

 

No, more than that—Yu Wei was her shadow, and Yu Wei was her original self, someone she had imagined for over a decade before they ever met. How could they possibly…?

 

“Are you okay?” Yu Wei asked softly.

 

It was the first time Quivering had heard her sound so regretful. She tilted her head to listen, but the hallway fell silent again.

 

Had she left?

 

Quivering relaxed a bit and turned her head blankly. A breeze came through the window, causing the sheer curtains to puff and fall rhythmically, rustling as they moved.

 

The wind cooled the heat on her body little by little.

 

“Good night,” Yu Wei said quietly. “You don’t have to give me an answer right away. Just… wait until I come back.”

 

The curtain, just beginning to settle, flared up again with a whoosh. Quivering held her breath. Her heart felt like it was tied to the corner of that curtain—lifted, suspended.

 

She pressed her lips together and said nothing.

 

The world fell into silence, only the sound of the wind remained.

 

She didn’t know how much time had passed before a car started in the courtyard downstairs. Quivering sat motionless by the door.

 

Training camp started tomorrow, and tonight was business as usual—training.

 

She’s really so calm, Quivering thought. After doing something like that, she still just… carried on like normal. As if nothing had happened.

 

Quivering was a little jealous. She looked down at herself, curled up miserably. The little cake beside her had toppled over, smearing cream across the box, ruining the design.

 

After hesitating, she opened the lid, dipped her finger in, and put it in her mouth.

 

The light sweetness and creamy aroma had barely begun to spread before she froze. Her finger quickly brushed her lips, and her lashes trembled as she looked down.

 

Yu Wei came back half an hour later than usual, near 3 a.m.

 

She crept up the stairs, footsteps light, and paused outside Quivering’s door… before walking away.

 

Seconds later, she came out of the room across the hall and stopped at the door again.

 

Quivering lay in bed, holding her breath, waiting for her to speak.

 

Nothing. Not a word.

 

From the faint moonlight of the night to the pale glow of dawn, the silence stretched on.

 

When morning came, Quivering got up like usual—changed, washed, grabbed her backpack, and walked to the door. She looked at the doorknob, hesitating before placing her hand on it.

 

She knew the house was empty.

 

Yu Wei had gone for her run before six, returned twenty minutes ago to wash up, and stood outside her room for a while.

 

The door clicked open. On the floor outside was a bag—inside were the stationery and sunshade Yu Wei had brought her last night. She had dropped them in Yu Wei’s room in a panic.

 

Quivering stared at the bag for a moment before picking it up.

 

“You feeling okay?” Ding Qing walked over from the dining room, worry in her voice. “You look pale. Didn’t sleep well?”

 

Quivering froze at the stairs for a few seconds. Looking at the fine lines at the corners of Ding Qing’s frowning eyes, she was momentarily dazed. “No, it’s nothing. Why didn’t you… see her off?”

 

She stopped herself halfway, swallowing the end of the sentence.

 

Ding Qing didn’t notice her odd tone and replied with feigned casualness, “She didn’t want me to. Took a cab by herself.”

 

Quivering responded with a quiet “Oh,” and they both fell silent.

 

After breakfast, Ding Qing drove her to school. Quivering sat in the back seat as usual, leaning against the door.

 

Sunlight streamed in through the window, falling across her knees.

 

She turned her face away from the light, gaze drifting sideways.

 

Empty.

 

The car suddenly felt a little too spacious. They hadn’t ridden together in it that many times, but when she glanced at that smooth black seat, she felt like it should be occupied.

 

“You and your sister okay?”

 

Ding Qing asked casually from the front seat. Quivering, lost in thought, jolted upright like she’d been caught red-handed. “W-What?”

 

“You had a fight?” Ding Qing’s voice was gentle but slightly awkward. “You didn’t go to the rink last night or see her off this morning. I went upstairs and saw her standing outside your door. She wouldn’t let me wake you.”

 

Quivering clenched her fingers tightly.

 

“She didn’t want you to go to training camp?”

 

It was a casual question.

 

Quivering’s heart skipped a beat. Her face tingled with numbness. “No,” she said, her voice stiff.

 

Ding Qing sighed. “I didn’t want her to go either. Training camp is tough. When I was your age, school would organize camps before competitions—just study stuff—but we’d wake up early, go to bed late, and still wouldn’t be tired. It was so hot in the dorms we’d all wander around the school feeding mosquitoes.”

 

She’d never talked about her past before.

 

It felt like a clear boundary was suddenly lifted, like a door opening to Quivering, inviting her in.

 

She stood at the threshold, hesitant.

 

If it had been before, she’d have been thrilled. But now… now she couldn’t.

 

“She’s in decent shape, I guess,” Quivering muttered.

 

Ding Qing replied, “Still won’t be comfortable. I wonder if she’s arrived yet.”

 

Quivering made a soft noise of agreement, reflexively reaching for her phone. She pulled it out halfway, then shoved it back into her pocket and turned it off.

 

She exhaled. “Not sure.”

 

By morning, news that Yu Wei hadn’t shown up to class had spread. Curious classmates kept asking Quivering about it, so she ducked out between periods to hide in the shadow of the teaching building.

 

Her thumb hovered over her phone’s power button—on, off, on, off again.

 

She hadn’t spoken last night out of nerves. Today, she had to explain everything. It was all a misunderstanding. When she’d said she didn’t mind what others thought, that wasn’t what she meant.

 

It was just a misunderstanding.

 

She’d clear it up.

 

She slipped into the classroom just as the bell rang, eyes landing on the empty desk by the wall. Her heart lurched. She quickly looked away and sat down.

 

“You look totally out of it today.” Cheng Miao turned around, waving a hand in front of her face. “Hey, where’s your mind at?”

 

Quivering blinked, took off her glasses, and rubbed her eyes. “Nowhere. Just looking outside.”

 

“What’s there to see out there?” Cheng Miao muttered, glancing out the window. Then she suddenly said in a hushed, excited tone, “Xiaoyu’s gone to camp—you know that, right?”

 

Quivering hesitated between acknowledging and denying.

 

“Her photo’s up on the official account,” Cheng Miao grinned.

 

She shut up just as the teacher stepped onto the podium. Quivering lowered her head, put her glasses back on, and opened her workbook, focusing hard.

 

Much later, when everyone was flipping their test papers, the rustle filled the room. Quivering quietly pulled her phone from her pocket.

 

The screen lit up.

 

She had changed the wallpaper just a few days ago—it was a drawing she made herself, a silhouette of her and Yu Wei on stage during the school anniversary.

 

Her hand jerked like it’d been burned. She tossed the phone into the desk drawer with a thump.

 

Half the class turned to look.

 

Flustered and embarrassed, she ducked her head.

 

…It’s all Yu Wei’s fault.

 

Quivering did her best to get life back to normal—hiding during breaks, slipping out with Cheng Miao after school to find somewhere quiet.

 

Phone on, off, off, on—she kept going until after lunch, when the battery nearly died.

 

By that point, she was forced to calm down. With a steady hand, she placed the phone on the desk like it was no big deal.

 

It buzzed twice.

 

Her old phone made a huge noise. She snatched it up, composure crumbling.

 

A push notification showed unread messages.

 

She hesitated, then opened them. Yu Wei had messaged.

 

Yu Wei: “I’m here.”
Yu Wei: “Busy, I’ll message you at lunch.”
Yu Wei: “Have you eaten?”
Yu Wei: “Things are going well here. My individual ice time is in the evening. Mornings are fitness training, afternoons are land drills and dance classes, plus two hours of group ice.”
Yu Wei: “If you have time, could you check in on Grandma for me?”

 

That last one was recent.

 

Quivering’s fingers curled, eyes fixed on the screen. The chat showed Yu Wei was typing, but no new message came.

 

She stared down, thumb hovering.

 

…: “Okay.”

 

A few seconds later, a reply popped up.

 

Yu Wei: “Thank you.”

 

…: “It’s nothing. Grandma’s always taken care of me. It’s only right I go see her.”

 

But nights weren’t convenient. Only lunch breaks worked.

 

She used to go with Yu Wei. Alone, it felt weird.

 

But she didn’t tell Yu Wei that. She scrolled the screen, wondering if she should explain that they didn’t like each other that way. That her feelings weren’t… like that.

 

But Yu Wei hadn’t said anything. She was acting like nothing had happened last night, like it was all a dream.

 

Should she still explain?

 

Maybe if Yu Wei didn’t bring it up, she wouldn’t either?

 

Just let it go?

 

Maybe Yu Wei had only been impulsive. At this age, that’s normal. A month apart, and they’d both realize it was just a misunderstanding. Just a silly, forgettable moment.

 

“You’ve been changing expressions like a color palette—what are you even looking at?” Cheng Miao leaned over, curious. “You didn’t hear a word I said.”

 

“Huh?”

 

Quivering looked up, visibly relaxed. “What did you say?”

 

Cheng Miao stood up, leaning on the desk to peek at her phone. “Come on, let me see. What kind of vixen bewitched you?”

 

Quivering instantly covered the screen. The phone happened to finish its countdown and shut off.

 

“Really, it’s nothing,” she said, rubbing her thumb over the screen. “Just a figure drawing tutorial.”

 

“What’s so great about that,” Cheng Miao muttered, then her eyes sparkled. “Unless it’s that kind. Hehehe. That’s fine! Study hard, my dear! When you master it, let me be the first to enjoy the harvest! Close to the granary eats first! I’ve got a few dream ships…”

 

Quivering listened to her go on about her favorite CPs being so sweet and real, tearing up the heavens with love. Cheng Miao twisted in her seat, then suddenly asked in a guilty whisper, “Do you know what yuri is?”

 

“Yeah. The flower.”

 

“No, I mean two girls going all mwah mwah…”

 

Quivering’s hand shook, her phone fell with a clack. She bent to pick it up, face full of shock and panic.

 

Cheng Miao quickly waved her hands. “Hey, I just ship yuri! I never said I am yuri, okay? Don’t get the wrong idea! My love for you is as pure and untainted as crystal! Heaven can testify—I have nothing but pure sisterly affection!”

 

The chain of idioms didn’t even matter anymore.

 

Quivering clutched her phone tightly, lips twitching. “Sister? Sister as in…”

 

Cheng Miao looked puzzled. “Of course. Different fathers, different mothers. Duh.”

 

Quivering exhaled, wiping her cold sweat.

 

It’s all Yu Wei’s fault!