It's 4:35 PM, and I find myself in a rather unusual situation—held hostage in my own classroom. By whom, you ask? Well, brace yourself, because it's not the kind of person you'd expect. The captor in question? None other than an incredibly beautiful girl with long, flowing dark hair and striking red eyes, eyes so intense they seem to hold a mysterious, almost supernatural pull.
Now, I know what you're thinking: some people would consider this their dream scenario, and honestly, I used to be one of them. Who wouldn't want to be trapped in a classroom with someone so captivating, right? But before you get any romantic notions, let me burst that bubble—this is far from the fairy tale you might imagine.
The girl holding me hostage sits sideways on the desk before me, her posture casual yet brimming with a silent, unnerving intensity. I, on the other hand, find myself too afraid to meet her gaze, especially those crimson eyes that burn with an eerie, predatory focus. Every time I glance in her direction, a chill runs down my spine, urging me to look away before those eyes devour me whole.
Mustered up enough courage, I finally asked, "Tadashi-San, is there something you need from me? Shouldn't you be busy with student council duties?"
To my surprise, she leaned in, closing the distance between us, her face mere inches from mine. My breath hitched, and my cheeks burned as she spoke.
"Saito Yuta," she began, her voice steady and deliberate, "age 17, second-year high school student, Class 2C. Looks? Average. Grades? Average. Clubs? None. Hobbies? Based on my information—none. And, as of a few days ago, I no longer am a member of the student council."
What the...? I stared at her, stunned. Am I... famous? Or does she have a crush on me? Is this the moment my luck finally turns around ? But wait—did she just say I look average ?
Before I could gather my thoughts, she tilted her head slightly and asked, "Do you know who I am?" Her tone was calm, but her eyes glimmered with curiosity.
Of course, I knew who she was. Who wouldn't...? Even people living under rocks knew her name.
Swallowing my nerves, I answered,
"Miss Tadashi Lily. Age 17. Second-year high school student, Class 2A. The student with the highest scores in every exam."
She didn't just stand out —she was in a league of her own.
A moment of silence hung between us before she spoke again.
"And...? Keep going."
She stared at me expectantly, as if waiting for me to unravel every detail I knew about her. Does she seriously want me to spill it all...?
I sighed inwardly and continued.
"Miss Tadashi Lily—Suou High School's most brilliant student. A child prodigy who excels in both academics and sports, admired by everyone, and famously nicknamed the 'Crimson Princess.'"
She smirked slightly. "That's quite the fancy nickname, isn't it?"
I shrugged. "You could say that again."
Her smirk grew as she tilted her head ever so slightly.
"So then, what business would
'The Princess' have with a typical, average guy like me?"
I asked, my curiosity finally spilling out.
Her grin widened as she leaned back, exuding an air of confidence.
"I've been watching your movements for quite some time," she said casually, as though it was the most normal thing in the world.
My heart skipped a beat. Watching me...?
"And I've come to a conclusion," she continued.
"You seem to have a knack for helping others in need, and It's not just the ordinary acts of kindness that define you, but the extraordinary ones. Like the day you threw yourself into the path of a speeding car to save a helpless puppy, fracturing your left arm in the process. It wasn't for applause, nor for recognition. You acted purely out of an innate selflessness, driven by something far greater than the need for attention or any personal gain."
She grinned as if the memory amused her.
I blinked, stunned.
How did she know about that...?
Though I was momentarily taken aback, the surprise was fleeting. By now, I had come to understand exactly what kind of people Tadashi Lily and her family were. A family of impossibilities—individuals who seemed to make the unthinkable seem effortless. So, uncovering information about someone as ordinary as me? That was child's play to them.
"Are you sure about that?" I muttered, glancing sideways to avoid her gaze. "You're probably mistaking me for someone else."
Before I could say anything more, she slammed her hand down on my desk, startling me.
"I DON'T MAKE MISTAKES," she declared, her voice sharp and unwavering.
Her crimson eyes blazed with an unshakable confidence, pinning me in place.
There was no escape; she wasn't going to let me go until I answered her questions.
I let out a resigned sigh. "I just do it," I began, my voice low but steady. "I'm not special, and I don't think helping others should be considered special either. It just makes me happy—seeing others smile, knowing that even someone as insignificant and small as me can make a difference. And... I hate attention. It makes me want to puke."
For a moment, silence filled the room. Her intense gaze shifted, her expression unreadable, before she spoke again.
"I don't understand," she said coldly, her tone like ice.
"The concept of helping others selflessly... why should I waste my time on others when I gain nothing from it? Why should I squander my meaningful time on meaningless acts for meaningless people?"
Her words were cutting, each one sharper than the last. She leaned closer, her crimson eyes narrowing.
"From my perspective, people like you are just meaningless idiots."
For some reason, her words didn't surprise me. Coming from someone like her—an heiress to an incredibly wealthy family—it made sense. She probably thought anything that didn't yield profit or tangible results was a waste of time.
"It might be dumb and meaningless to you," I said, my voice calm but firm. "But at the end of the day, I'm happy knowing I did something—no matter how small—that made a difference. Nobody needs to know about it because I know, and that's enough for me."
She watched me silently, her crimson eyes unblinking, as I continued.
"I think every person has their own opinions, their own way of seeing the world, their own way of doing things. I'm in no position to judge what others think—or what you think. But even you—Princess or not—are in no position to judge me or anyone else."
As the words left my mouth, I realized something had shifted within me. The fear I'd felt moments ago was gone, replaced by a quiet resolve. I found myself meeting her intense gaze head-on, unflinching, staring back into those piercing red eyes.
We stood there, staring at each other in silence, the weight of our exchange hanging in the air. Neither of us spoke, yet the intensity of her crimson gaze lingered, unwavering.
*
The clock on the wall ticked steadily, the hands pointing to 4:50 PM.
Breaking the silence, she suddenly rose from her seat, her movements deliberate. "Thank you for taking the time to have this conversation with me," she said at last, her tone surprisingly soft. "It seems I've taken up far too much of it."
I shook my head, slinging my bag over my shoulder, meeting her eyes one last time.
"I have all the time in the world," I replied with a faint smile.
"So none of it was wasted."
Without waiting for a response, I turned toward the door, my footsteps echoing softly in the quiet room. As I walked out, the air seemed lighter, though the memory of her fiery red eyes lingered in the back of my mind.
*
Tadashi Lily had never met anyone like him. Everyone around her—classmates, acquaintances, even rivals—treated her like royalty. They obeyed her every word, followed her commands without question, and nodded in agreement even when she deliberately said things she knew were wrong. She had long understood that people gravitate toward those with power, influence, and wealth.
Standing alone in the quiet of an empty classroom, she gazed out the window, her crimson eyes lost in thought.
"Helping others... making others happy and smile, huh?" she murmured to herself. Her voice was soft, almost wistful. "When was the last time I genuinely smiled?"
Her eyes drifted downward to the school gate below. From her vantage point on the fifth floor, she noticed Saito Yuta crouched in the bushes near the school gate. A small, fragile movement caught her attention—a stray kitten, mewing weakly.
She watched as Yuta carefully reached into the thorny undergrowth. His hands brushed against shards of broken glass, leaving small cuts on his skin, but he didn't flinch. Ignoring the stinging pain, he gently scooped up the kitten, cradling it in his arms.
His voice was calm, almost soothing, as he spoke to the tiny creature. "Be still. It's going to get cold in a couple of hours. I'll take you to someone I know—he owns a cat café. He'll take good care of you."
From the window, Lily's expression softened. A warmth she hadn't felt in years spread through her chest as she watched him.
Unconsciously, a small, genuine smile crept onto her lips.
"You truly are a fascinating person," she whispered, her voice trembling with a hint of something unfamiliar. She placed a hand lightly on her chest, feeling the faint but steady rhythm beneath.
"The avidness I feel toward you... it's making my frozen heart race once more."