True Education: I Have a Life Simulator

"Honami?"

Kitagawa Ryo's mind instantly snapped back to clarity. He nearly yanked the needle out from the back of his hand, his legs scrambling to find the floor and his shoes. He didn't even notice when Karuizawa Kei, who had been sitting beside the bed a moment ago, stood up. She gently steadied his IV pole and followed beside him.

"Ryo, lie back down for now."

Ichinose Honami wiped her wet hands on the hem of her shirt, leaving behind faint palm prints. Despite the slightly disheveled appearance, her expression was energetic, her tone as lively as ever. Turning to Kei, she said,

"Could I trouble Karuizawa-san to help Ryo back to bed?"

"Sure."

Seeing the stubborn look on Honami's face, Ryo didn't resist. He obediently allowed Kei to help him back under the thick blankets. As the warmth covered his legs again, Mr. Izaki passed Honami a warm towel and took the dripping umbrella out of the room.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the soft rustle of Honami wiping down her arms, legs, and face. Only her right shoulder had a visible wet patch, while the rest of her clothing was just slightly damp.

"Whew."

After finishing, her flushed cheeks turned toward Ryo. The white of her skin had a soft, pink glow, and her long hair still shimmered with droplets. Her blue eyes glistened with moisture, and her lips were dewy, almost sensual in their softness.

"I'm feeling warm again."

Honami sat gingerly at the edge of Ryo's bed, taking up even less space than Kei had earlier. She gently took Ryo's left hand in both of hers. Ryo's hand, like the rest of him, was striking. Pale, slender fingers with neatly trimmed nails glowed softly under the fluorescent lights. His hand looked like it belonged to a pianist or a magician.

Honami wrapped both her hands around his like she was warming them with her breath on a snowy day.

"It's so cold... Are you still feeling bad?"

Her forehead leaned lightly against his. Their hair brushed; her breath warmed his fingers. Her voice, like lukewarm syrup, poured into his ears. In that moment, Ryo felt it — the tenderness she showed only to him.

Again, he was moved by her.

Every time he made up his mind, he would waver again after seeing her. Honami didn't need promises — just by standing there, she kept him.

"I'm okay now. It was just a chill."

Ryo shook his head, like a child trying to act tough.

Honami leaned closer, letting their foreheads touch. Her whisper brushed his ear:

"Looks like your fever's gone."

Karuizawa Kei stood silently across the room. Though only minutes had passed, it felt to her like years had flowed between these two. The weight of time between them formed a fortress of memories.

Kei didn't cry easily anymore — she had cried far too many times during her bullied days. But now, her tears felt like precious gems, each one carrying a piece of her soul. She pressed her lips together, blinked hard, determined not to let them fall.

"My birthday is the day after tomorrow."

Honami moved her hand, pressing a finger to Ryo's lips.

"Then I'll make an early wish. I hope Ryo gets better soon. Let's go see the fireworks together, okay?"

He could only nod.

"Since you're okay, I'll head back. If I'm too late, my mom will worry. I'll tell Maki how you're doing too."

She stood up, still holding his hand.

"It's a promise."

She pressed her thumb against his, like sealing a pact.

"Honami."

He called out just as she turned to leave. A silent unease lingered in him — a sunken ship buried deep within.

"...Let Izaki take you home."

He didn't ask anything else. He just realized she could now lie with a straight face — like an actress perfecting her role.

"No need. It's not far, and the rain's let up. Izaki-san should stay and take care of you."

She left without another word to Kei.

"Don't forget your umbrella."

"Like I'd forget. Trust me a little, will you?"

With a teasing tone, she left the room.

For a long time afterward, Ryo sat silently, not speaking, not even blinking. The TV had switched from the evening news to a family drama. A wife and mistress were fighting onscreen. Kei got up and turned it off.

The apple she had cut earlier had started to oxidize. She peeled another, quietly borrowing a plate and toothpicks. She returned with a neatly arranged plate of slices.

"Want some?"

Ryo didn't refuse. He methodically chewed and swallowed, bite after bite.

"Thanks. Aren't you heading home?"

"Told my parents I'd be late."

She nervously cleared the plate.

Ryo looked at her. Their shadows overlapped like a miracle. He realized her feelings now mirrored his own past ones for Honami — sincere, full of yearning... and hopeless.

True happiness can only be born from equality. They hadn't been equal back then, just as Kei wasn't now.

"Come walk with me?"

He didn't know whether to call her "Karuizawa-san" or "Kei."

"Sure, but just inside the hospital — it's still raining."

She skillfully helped him into cotton slippers and adjusted his IV.

The hospital at night wasn't scenic. After walking a while, they entered a different ward with more patients. The noise roused Ryo's fading senses. He noticed Kei was tightly holding his hand.

"It's crowded — better to hold on."

She shielded him like a guard despite her smaller frame.

"Izaki-san left you some hot cocoa. I'll go get it."

She quickly returned with two cups. Before she could open hers, a child bumped her, and her cup spilled onto the floor.

"Please watch your child. Patients are resting."

No apology came. She sighed, fetched a mop, and cleaned the mess.

"At least no one got burned."

"Still their fault — there's cameras."

Kei returned to Ryo.

"I'll get another later. You drink yours."

He tried offering his cup instead.

"What's wrong with sharing?"

A nearby mother laughed.

"Not a couple yet, but maybe close?"

Kei flushed red.

"Kids these days always shy about it. Nothing shameful in love."

The woman launched into her love story. For thirty minutes, Kei and Ryo listened politely.

"Goodbye."

As the woman left, Kei noticed Ryo leaning against her shoulder.

"IVs make you cold, right?"

The woman handed her a blanket meant for patients.

"You weren't assigned here, right? Cover him — AC's cold."

Kei wrapped them both in it.

The cocoa sat half-finished beside them. She took a sip — cold, but still sweet.

A while later, Izaki returned holding the large black umbrella. Judging from his expression, Honami had indeed forgotten it.

He wanted to say something, but Kei raised a finger to her lips.

"Shh. He's sleeping. Don't wake him."