Chapter 147: I Never Blamed You
Sasuko ran all the way from home, tears blurring her vision.
She didn't know how far she'd run until burning pain from her lungs forced her to stop.
She leaned against a wall gasping for breath, instinctively looking back—behind her stretched only emptiness, just her solitary shadow elongated by the setting sun.
He truly hadn't chased after her.
Sasuko's heart ached.
He'd clearly said he'd never let her feel sad...
Liar!
Sasuko raised her hand to forcefully wipe away tear traces on her face, yet felt more tears surge forth.
In the distant shadows she hadn't noticed, a pair of black eyes continuously watched her figure quietly, that gaze hiding indescribable heartache yet ultimately never taking a single step forward.
Sasuko wandered the streets aimlessly from afternoon until dusk. Sunset stretched her shadow long, emphasizing her solitary state.
A tear-stained yet ethereally beautiful young woman wandering alone should have attracted considerable attention. Unexpectedly, however, until twilight gathered and lights began glowing, truly no one approached to strike up conversation.
People either hurried past her or, upon inadvertently glimpsing her, would pause slightly before naturally averting their gaze as though separated by some invisible barrier, continuing their own journeys.
The sky gradually darkened, streets brightly lit, crowds still flowing.
Sasuko stood amid the bustling throng yet felt unprecedented loneliness.
She rarely went out alone, much less wandered outside this late by herself. The world's clamor seemed separated by a transparent wall. She existed within yet couldn't integrate.
She could sense that the Flying Thunder God mark carved on Yu's heart had become clear again. With a single thought, she could immediately return to that familiar embrace. Yet right now she inexplicably resisted that choice.
She didn't want to return to that place where he existed yet made her feel even sadder.
She needed someone to listen to her speak, even if just listening.
Before she realized it, she found herself already standing before Naruko's apartment door.
She hesitated briefly before finally raising her hand to press the doorbell.
"Who is it?" Naruko's characteristic energetic voice came from within.
"...Me." Sasuko responded softly, her voice still carrying incompletely suppressed choking.
Naruko, who'd been making instant ramen in the kitchen, froze.
She recognized Sasuko's voice, but what made her heart tighten more was that usually cool, calm tone now carrying such obvious crying.
Naruko immediately set down what she held, quickly running to the door and pulling it open.
The instant the door opened, Naruko froze in place—the scene before her made her body pause.
Sasuko stood alone under dim corridor lighting. Her usually neat hair now appeared somewhat disheveled, several strands dampened by tears, clinging to her pale cheeks. Those eyes usually clear as water were now red and swollen, filled with tears threatening to spill.
"Sasuko? How did you..." Naruko's words cut off abruptly. She saw another tear roll from Sasuko's eye corner, sliding down undried tear tracks toward her jaw.
Sasuko opened her mouth yet couldn't produce any sound.
All grievance and unwillingness surged up in this moment, blocking her throat. She could only helplessly look at Naruko, allowing tears to flow silently.
"Come in quickly." Naruko immediately stepped aside to clear the doorway.
The apartment wasn't large but was kept warm and tidy—Naruko, who'd always lived alone, had long learned to manage life independently.
She carefully supported Sasuko to sit on the sofa, hastily closed the door, then hurriedly poured a cup of warm water and pressed it into her hands.
Sasuko mechanically held the cup, fingertips ice-cold.
"What happened?" Naruko sat beside her, voice very gentle. "Weren't things fine at lunch?"
This sentence seemed to open some switch.
Sasuko suddenly raised her head, gazing at Naruko's concerned eyes through tear-blurred vision, finally recovering her voice:
"He... he rejected me again."
Before her words finished, new tears surged up.
Naruko watched Sasuko crying uncontrollably, momentarily at a loss. This was her first time seeing such a fragile Sasuko—that usually cool, composed girl showing this appearance before her.
Logically, she should feel a trace of secret pleasure. Sasuko's words confirmed Yu had never accepted her feelings. Yet watching her good sister trembling all over from crying, Naruko's heart held only overwhelming worry and heartache. How ridiculous—two people who should be romantic rivals now nestled together on this small sofa, one pouring out feelings, one listening.
"Don't overthink," Naruko clumsily comforted, gently grasping Sasuko's ice-cold hand. "Yu... certainly cares most about you."
Sasuko raised eyes brimming with moisture, her voice carrying desperate trembling. "Then why won't he accept me? Why?"
Naruko gently patted Sasuko's trembling back, feeling the fine shaking beneath her palm. She carefully chose words, saying softly, "Perhaps... Yu has reasons he must persist in."
Sasuko gazed at Naruko's face filled with worried tenderness, voice choking. "Why are you still speaking for him? He previously clearly..."
Her words stopped abruptly, but Naruko already understood—she referred to Yu erasing the Flying Thunder God mark.
Naruko's eyes dimmed momentarily before raising a seemingly carefree smile. "Liking him is my choice. Even if he doesn't like me yet, that's fine. As long as he doesn't find me annoying, I want to follow my heart in drawing closer."
These words made guilt rise in Sasuko's heart. If positions were reversed, she simply couldn't imagine what irrational actions she'd commit, much less what pain she'd sink into.
"I'm sorry, Naruko." Sasuko lowered her eyes. "That matter was actually because of me..."
Naruko suddenly showed a mischievous smile, reaching out to lightly pinch Sasuko's tear-stained cheek. "Oh my, our Miss Sasuko can apologize too?"
This affectionate teasing dispersed some of the gloom in Sasuko's heart. This time she didn't slap away Naruko's restless hand, allowing that warmth to knead her cheeks.
Seeing Sasuko's expression still serious, Naruko released her hand and put away her joking manner. She gently pulled Sasuko into her embrace, voice tender:
"It's fine, Sasuko. I never blamed you."
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