025. Consequences of Long-Term Vegetarianism-Dissemos que montaríamos uma banda para a vida toda, que história é essa de Dragon Clan?(A nuvem fala é chuva.)

[You have witnessed the dormancy of the Golden Pupil. Free Skill Point +1]
[Perhaps, this is a form of resonance between certain Spirit Words.]
[Progress toward igniting the Spirit Word (3/4)]

?
!
As expected.

Nagumo Ametsuki was momentarily stunned, though not entirely surprised.
"So, this is the kind of character who manages to appear in every single plot line? Just as I suspected."

But… a resonance between Spirit Words?
Blood of Sorrow?
That was what Nagumo had initially assumed. However, the Blood of Sorrow was a byproduct of the Dragon bloodline in hybrids, creating an inherent barrier between them and ordinary humans—a barrier that would continuously amplify until it resulted in an irresistible, profound sense of loneliness.
But then again… the Blood of Sorrow is not a Spirit Word.
It seems this might be related to some dormant Spirit Word within Nagasaki Soyo.

As he pondered this, Nagumo looked at Nagasaki Soyo and said, "Thank you."
Just then, the bell rang. Nagasaki Soyo waved at him with a smile and trotted back to her own classroom.

Nagumo returned to his seat, placed his textbook down, and sat beside Wakaba Mutsumi, suddenly realizing something was amiss. Originally, he had sat next to Mutsumi under the guise of not having a book, but now that someone had delivered one, he had no reason to stay.
Why did she have to go and deliver the textbook?
Only now did Nagumo realize the issue.
Damn it… damn it all.
Does that mean I have to move back?
Nagumo felt a pang of heartache, yet was utterly helpless.
"I’ve been outsmarted by my own 'World-Shaking Wisdom'," he muttered to himself.

Nagumo turned to Mutsumi: "Um… someone brought me my book. I think I should head back to my own seat. Thanks for these past two days."
After a moment, he added, "Seriously, thank you. Mutsumi is the best."

As he prepared to pull his chair away, Mutsumi suddenly grabbed his wrist. Her touch lasted for only a fleeting second before she pulled back as if electrocuted. But that was enough for Nagumo to react. He halted his movement and looked at her.

Mutsumi met his gaze and spoke: "Math. Forgot my book."

Oh. So she hadn't brought her book.
Even an honor student like Wakaba Mutsumi could forget her book. Nagumo felt she seemed more human now, drifting away from her usual stoic "Mutsumi-the-Head" persona and appearing more like an ordinary middle schooler.

He pulled his chair back to its original spot beside Mutsumi’s desk and sat down. He opened his book to the previous lesson's content, pressing firmly on the center of the binding to flatten the new, crisp pages.

Mutsumi leaned in, and they were close—close enough that Nagumo could clearly smell the faint fragrance from her hair. A few strands brushed against his cheek like a feather, leaving a slight, ticklish sensation. Nagumo instinctively tilted his head. Mutsumi raised her hand to brush her hair aside, her fingers gliding through the strands to tuck them back, revealing a pale, slender neck.

Nagumo’s gaze followed her movement before he caught himself and looked away. He blinked, staring straight ahead, saying nothing.

The math class began, and the room grew quiet. Having been impressed by Nagumo’s mathematical prowess the day before, the teacher didn't call on him, choosing instead to quiz students who needed the practice. Watching his classmates get called up one by one, Nagumo thought to himself that the pressure of a math class on middle schoolers was truly not to be underestimated; without any true math geniuses in the room, a teacher could always find a gap in knowledge if they tried.

Togawa Sakiko was also called upon, but the question was simple enough that she answered it with ease.

*Rustle, rustle—*
Between the teacher's lecture and the sound of pages turning, the math class passed quickly. The next period was Physical Education; as soon as the bell rang, students began filing out in small groups. Since PE didn't require textbooks, it felt like a liberation for everyone.

After the basic warm-ups, it was time for free activity. Nagumo scanned the playground but couldn't find Mutsumi. Thinking for a moment, he headed toward the school’s garden.

Passing the side of the teaching building, a fresh scent of soil greeted him. Nagumo bypassed a few plots of other plants and, sure enough, spotted Mutsumi near the cucumber patch. She was half-squatting, focused on watering the cucumbers. Sunlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled light upon her, outlining her slender and gentle silhouette.

Mutsumi watched the cucumber leaves intently, her small watering can tilted slowly. The stream of water fell, nourishing the soil beneath the vines. She would stare at the water droplets on the leaves until they trickled into the earth and vanished.

Nagumo stood to the side, watching her back, and said casually, "So, you’re here."
Mutsumi looked up at him, nodded slightly, and went back to her watering.

At this time of year, it was already time to prepare for the next batch of cucumbers. After all, apart from winter, they could be grown almost year-round in the right temperature. No matter when, they would reach out their vines, bloom with small yellow flowers, and eventually bear emerald fruit. The cold, quiet environment of Mutsumi’s home seemed to suit the nature of the cucumber plant perfectly.

The silence lasted for a while, broken only by the sound of water flowing from the can. Droplets seeped into the soil along the vines. The green leaves swayed in the breeze, and the sunlight filtering through the foliage illuminated Mutsumi’s hair, making her profile look clean and tranquil.

Mutsumi suddenly stopped.
"Tonight, there is a dance lesson."
She spoke. The implication was that she wouldn't be able to play the guitar tonight.

Nagumo smiled, his tone relaxed: "That’s fine. There will be plenty of chances later."
Mutsumi gave a soft "Mm," and continued watering.

The water in the can was running low. Fortunately, there was a tap nearby, so she made a few trips back and forth, ensuring no plant was left unwatered. These plants loved water, and in this season, they certainly needed plenty.

Nagumo just stood there, quietly watching Mutsumi. The sunlight was warm, the breeze was soft, and the water droplets on the vines reflected tiny, scattered sparks of light. The whole world seemed to have fallen silent.