Chapter 41

"Look, now you need me to blow on you, right?" She leaned over and blew gently on his calf twice.

Naraku's eyelids drooped slightly, staring at her pouty lips.

Like many girls her age, Naoko had soft, pale cherry lips that curled slightly when she smiled, giving her a hint of hidden malice.

Sensing his gaze, Naoko gently poked at his wound: "Are you glaring at me again?" Naraku

responded with a warning, laced with a low gasp: "Get away from me, I'll do it myself!"

"Oh, okay then," she said, moving the disinfectant cotton swab again, intentionally or unintentionally.

She was taking revenge.

Exhausted, Naoko, after a shower, slipped into sleep on the sofa.

It was rainy, and in the middle of the night, a sudden downpour broke, rattling the half-open windowpane.

She was so sound asleep that she didn't even notice, and instead woke Naraku inside.

He stroked the Four Souls Jade in his hand, and when he thought of the green-clothed man's stubble-like face, he was filled with anger.

Good things should belong to a strong man like him.

When he recovers, he will definitely snatch Sukuna's finger.

Because Naoko always wants to take all kinds of things. So his door is always half open, and the noisy sound of rain penetrates the crack of the door and pours into his ears.

He stood up and looked out through the crack of the door.

The glass window of the window was half opened, and the big raindrops hit the windowsill with a harsh crackling sound.

Naoko was still asleep, and a faint curve rose on the sofa.

He got up and closed the window.

The sudden rain made the temperature drop sharply in Tokyo at night. She curled up on the sofa, like some small animal drawing warmth from it.

It was just right, this kind of troublesome woman should have died long ago.

He raised the arc of a smile, turned and walked into the room, the teardrop mole under his left eye flashing a subtle light.

By the time Naoko woke up, it was already bright daylight. The sky, after the rain, was exceptionally clear, brightening her mood. She

was draped in a blanket, neither too thick nor too thin, which helped her avoid a fever or cold.

Naraku was more conscientious than she'd imagined.

Without the interference of that damned Amamiya-kun, Naoko's school life was unstoppable.

Because of her good grades and cute looks, everyone was happy to hang around her after class, asking her questions like, "What skincare products do you use?" and "Would you like to have coffee?"

Within a month and a half of school, she was already receiving advances from other male classmates, even some date requests.

Kitajima Shingo was one of them.

Handsome and tall, he was a world away from Amamiya-kun, but in this Amamiya-less school, he had caused quite a stir.

Many female classmates were proud to date Kitajima.

Naoko wasn't into playboys, so she rejected him several times.

But one day, while passing by a soccer field, she was nearly hit by a flying soccer ball. It was Kitajima who swooped in to block it, saving her in time.

Refusing further would have seemed ungrateful, so

she had no choice but to accept his request.

People who dated regularly were truly different from someone like her who was a total idiot in relationships.

Kitajima packed the entire date with activities, to the point where it was almost unbearable.

For example, in the morning, they'd visit a famous breakfast stall; then secure a prime beachfront spot to watch the sea; lunch would be a seafood feast nearby; afternoon shopping; and evening cinema.

The money they'd earned would almost cover her food expenses for half a month.

Not to mention, she had to put her work at the cafe on hold for this seemingly inexplicable date. Even

though it was a date, Kitajima was like a butterfly, unwilling to let go of any flower. Even as they walked side by side, he was openly flirting with the girls he passed.

From the very beginning of the day, Naoko regretted her impulsive decision to agree to this date.

After all, there's more than one way to express gratitude, right?

She lagged behind Kitajima by two or three steps, silently pushing the small straw hat on her head down to shield her face.

Noticing her retreat, Kitajima took two steps back with his hands in his trouser pockets, put his arm on Naoko's shoulder, and said in a sing-song voice, "Honey, you're behind~"

As he spoke, he extended his index and middle fingers and made a motion of brushing her bangs in the air, causing the girls around him to scream softly.

"..."

Naoko had discovered that these few dates had almost all taken place in crowded places. Kitajima probably wanted to use this to exude charm more than just dating.

In half a day, she had heard "I'm so envious, I want to be the girl standing next to him" no less than thirty times.

After finally making it to the afternoon, she was able to take a break by shopping in the mall, and the fake smile on her face became much more sincere.

"Kitajima-kun, are you thirsty? I'll buy you a drink."

"Shh—" Kitajima bent down and put his index finger on her lips, "Please don't call me so unfamiliar. Just call me Shingo."

"Uh, Shingo-kun, would you like some tea milk? Just consider it a thank you for your help."

He made a blew a kiss gesture: "Even I can't refuse a lady's request."

As soon as the words fell, the surrounding girls gasped one after another.

Enough.

Naoko ran away as if escaping, wanting to be quiet for a while, but she didn't know if it was too hot, but she actually saw the lame man who was bedridden at home.

But when she rubbed her eyes and prepared to look carefully, he was gone.

She ordered a hot drink for Kitajima and a cheap thirst-quenching lemonade for herself.

When she walked back reluctantly, five or six girls were surrounding Kitajima, seemingly talking about something interesting, and the group laughed along.

"Kitajima-kun, please drink it." She handed him the tea milk.

Kitajima winked at her: "Thank you, sweet Naoko-chan, you are as sweet and thirst-quenching as this cup of tea milk."

Perhaps other girls would like this kind of smooth-talking man, but it was obvious that she was not one of them.

In particular, he took advantage of her turning her head and lowered his head to take a sip of her lemonade.

Naoko only felt a loud bang above her head, as if something fragile had broken.

She raised her head stiffly and bumped into Kitajima's rippling eyes.

One tall and one short, a man and a woman, and they were both young teenagers. There seemed to be a charming atmosphere when they looked at each other.

Naraku stood behind the wall, looking in this direction from a distance.

In fact, when he hid, he realized that it was all unnecessary. No... it should be said that he was trying to cover up his mistake.

His vision is really bad. He either falls for a vicious adulterer or a smooth-talking playboy.

Although the injury on his leg has not healed completely, it does not prevent him from moving around and searching for the whereabouts of the man in green.

...In short, he has important things to do and has no time to care about Kawase Naoko.

After finally getting through this day of killing money, Naoko dragged her tired body home to cook.

Very good, she has gradually gotten used to the life of being a nanny.

She picked up the spatula and prepared to make a rare dinner instead of letting him eat the leftover sandwich brought back from the store.

When she was trying to flip the fried egg from the bottom of the pan, she met Naraku's deep eyes.

He was standing not far away, looking a little dusty, with messy hair.

He called out, "Naoko."

"Hmm?" She paused her stir-frying, and seeing he didn't respond, she took the initiative and walked over to him, spatula in hand. "What's going on? Oh, by the way, thank you for the blanket last night."

He scoffed, turning his head away, as if to avoid her. "It's none of my business."

In her peripheral vision, she could see the pink ruffles of her apron; the old-fashioned design looked rather cute on her.

Silence stretched between them, and Naoko felt uneasy. Just as she was about to turn back to the kitchen, he grabbed her wrist.

"Naoko, don't you have something to tell me?" His crimson eyes were so close she could almost count his eyelashes. But after two breaths, he released her. "It's okay,"

she replied, confused.

Could it really be affecting her brain?

She hoped not, because she didn't think she could afford the extra medical bills right now.

But being honest did pay off. Just after dinner, her neighbor, Mrs. Asano, knocked on her door.

She hurriedly shoved Naraku into the room, making sure the living room was clear of any unwanted objects before reassuring herself and opening the door.

"It's late, Mrs. Asano, what can I do for you?"

Mrs. Asano smiled, pushing Asano Yuuki from behind her toward her. "Kawase-san, here's a favor.

If it's convenient for you, could you please become Yuuki-kun's tutor? We'll pay you the market rate."

The pleasant sound of gold coins clashing echoed in her mind, and before she could react, her head nodded automatically, "Of course, I'd absolutely love to!" She

had previously considered finding a tutoring job, but it had always been too far and inconvenient.

Mrs. Asano was truly a lifesaver.

"Well, then, can you come in tomorrow night?"

She nodded quickly, grateful. "Of course!"

After escorting Asano and his mother out, Naoko excitedly shared the good news with Naraku.

He scoffed and scoffed, "Just for something as mundane as this?"

She had learned to be selectively deaf, so she pretended not to hear him.

The next day, she went to school as usual. To her surprise, Kitajima lost his usual high spirits and had his head wrapped in heavy gauze, like a swollen dumpling.

As a date, she should have gone forward to show some concern, but as soon as she approached, he ran away as if he had seen a ghost, and she couldn't call him back.

A good classmate told her that Kitajima had accidentally fallen on his face when he was going home yesterday and was seriously injured.

That was really strange, because Naoko thought he was the type who would tuck his head into his crotch in time to protect his face even if he fell down the stairs.

He shouldn't hurt his proud face.