Chapter Text
☕ 🍂 ☕☕ 🍂 ☕☕ 🍂 ☕☕ 🍂 ☕☕ 🍂 ☕☕ 🍂 ☕☕ 🍂 ☕☕ 🍂 ☕☕ 🍂 ☕☕ 🍂 ☕☕ 🍂 ☕☕ 🍂 ☕☕ 🍂 ☕☕ 🍂 ☕☕ 🍂 ☕☕ 🍂 ☕☕ 🍂 ☕☕ 🍂 ☕☕ 🍂 ☕☕ 🍂
🍂 ─────── ୨ৎ ─────── 🍂
𝐈𝐟 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐞
Chapter [2]
❝ [ I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush ] ❞
— [ Taylor Swift ]
🍂 ─────── ୨ৎ ─────── 🍂
☕ 🍂 ☕☕ 🍂 ☕☕ 🍂 ☕☕ 🍂 ☕☕ 🍂 ☕☕ 🍂 ☕☕ 🍂 ☕☕ 🍂 ☕☕ 🍂 ☕☕ 🍂 ☕☕ 🍂 ☕☕ 🍂 ☕☕ 🍂 ☕☕ 🍂 ☕☕ 🍂 ☕☕ 🍂 ☕☕ 🍂 ☕☕ 🍂 ☕
Yumeko hated it when people ended up becoming a mystery to her — but at the same time, she found that fairly interesting: uncovering the nature of someone who didn't put themselves on display for everyone. And with all that, she'd gotten absolutely nothing from the mayor's daughter. Nothing was nothing — she hadn't even glanced back after Yumeko handed her the coffee, and that left her feeling oddly hollow, because she always drew everyone's eyes.
"Won again!" Yumeko exclaimed, scooping the money off the betting table.
The other players scowled at having lost their money to Yumeko Jabami yet again, and walked off. That was what she did with her free time at university — gambling. She loved gambling, loved the rush of the adrenaline and the uncertainty, loved leaving everything to chance. Her mother encouraged her betting, as long as she stayed responsible and never cheated.
"God, you're on an insane streak," Mary said, flopping down beside her without much energy. "That's why I won't play against you."
Yumeko let out a small laugh, idly wondering whether the mayor's family gambled.
"This degree is going to kill me." Ryan arrived and dropped onto the grass with dramatic flair. Who would've thought history majors got tired of their own field. "And to make it worse, the professor's going to pick the top five to chat with the mayor about St. Dominics history."
"Really?" Yumeko tilted her head, smoothing the freshly won wad of bills between her hands with slow, deliberate motions. Her dark eyes lit up at Ryan's words. "How interesting… so the mayor wants to learn about our dear St. Dominics' past — something he really should already know, by the way."
"Yeah, he really should, and be grateful they can't pick you, Yume," Mary added, letting out a snort while fixing the curls in her hair. "You'd probably end up betting the town's budget against the old man in the middle of the meeting."
Yumeko let out a soft laugh, tucking the money into her bag without taking her eyes off Ryan, who kept complaining on the grass. The mention of the mayor only brought back the memory of the previous afternoon at the café. The memory of that city girl who had simply taken her black coffee, paid, and left without sparing her a single extra glance. That had been so unbearable she'd had to think about it all night.
"Don't be dramatic, Mary," Yumeko replied in a falsely innocent tone, almost unconsciously shuffling the deck of cards in her lap. "I only play if the other person is willing to accept the consequences. Although… I doubt very much the mayor is a betting man."
"I doubt it too — my father said he was pretty serious yesterday," Michael said, still watching Yumeko. That only confirmed for her that she drew the eyes and hearts of anyone she set her sights on — except this one woman hadn't given her the slightest bit of importance.
The alarm on Yumeko's phone went off, signalling it was time to start walking to her classroom.
"Well, it was lovely seeing you all, but I have to go." Yumeko stood up slowly, well aware of the lovestruck looks from her two best friends. "See you later, Mary. Bye, Ryan, Michael."
And she left.
She adjusted the strap of her bag over her shoulder and walked at an easy pace along the main path of the campus, leaving the noise of the courtyard behind. As she entered the main building, the air felt cooler, carrying that typical scent of old wood and books that defined St. Dominics University. The echo of other students' footsteps rang off the high walls as she moved without hurry.
She reached the junction of three separate hallways — left, centre, and right — but there was no confusion; her classroom was to the left, so she turned and kept walking.
She opened the door to the psychology classroom gently. The room was already half full, the murmur of conversations filling the air, and the professor was still finishing organizing some papers on the main desk.
Yumeko walked to her usual seat, keeping that impeccable posture that made a couple of heads turn to watch her come in, though her mind was already somewhere else entirely. She sat down, pulled out her notebook, and rested her chin in her palm, staring fixedly at the board.
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. . . ╰────── 🍂 ☕ 🍂 ──────╯ . . .
Kira was lost. The campus was enormous, even though it looked small from the outside. The worst part was that her sister's building was far from hers, so there was no taking refuge with her. Still, she was too stubborn to ask for help — especially since she hated the looks everyone gave her, as if they weren't human too.
She followed the signs and ended up at a junction of three separate hallways, but had no idea which one to take — none of them had a single bit of signage.
"Are you lost?" asked a small voice behind her, making her jump.
"No, I'm just standing here staring at the three hallways like an idiot because I'm analyzing the depth," Kira shot back defensively, then realized her sarcastic tone hadn't landed well when the girl's mouth fell open, startled. "Sorry. It's been a rough few days."
The shorter girl smiled wide and gave a little wave with her fingers.
"Don't worry about it, happens to all of us. What building, classroom, class, or professor are you looking for? By the way, I'm Sayaka."
Kira studied the girl for a brief second, weighing whether to invent another excuse or just give in. Sayaka was dressed impeccably, a university notebook clutched against her chest, with an expression so neat and orderly it gave away that she knew every corner of this university by heart. She looked like the textbook model student who never broke a single rule.
"I'm looking for the Constitutional Law classroom, with Professor Vance," Kira admitted, letting out a sigh and dropping her shoulders, defeated. "My class was supposed to start five minutes ago, but this place is a maze."
Sayaka nodded enthusiastically, her smile widening as if guiding lost students were her main mission for the day.
"Ah, Constitutional Law! You're in luck — that classroom's down the centre hallway," the dark-haired girl said, pointing with her index finger toward the middle path. "Go straight, pass the language lab, and it's the third door on the left. If you hurry, Professor Vance probably hasn't closed the door yet. She usually gives newcomers a ten-minute grace period."
"Centre hallway… noted. Thank you so much, Sayaka," Kira replied, feeling a small weight lift off her shoulders. She made to take her first step, but the girl's voice stopped her again.
"You're welcome. By the way… you're the new mayor's daughter, right? Kira, isn't it?" Sayaka asked shyly. "My father works in campus administration, and he mentioned you'd transferred this week."
Kira clenched her teeth imperceptibly. There it was again — the label. Again, the reminder that in St. Dominics she wasn't Kira; she was simply an extension of her father's damned political position. She looked at Sayaka, searching for any trace of mockery or hidden agenda, but found only kindness.
"Yes, that's me," Kira answered in the flattest tone she could manage. "But I'd rather just be called Kira. See you later, Sayaka."
"Good luck in class!" the girl called after her with a small wave, as Kira was already striding quickly down the centre hallway.
As her boots echoed against the floor of the middle hallway, she hated this.
Right about now she'd be on break with her boyfriend, kissing him, talking with her friends. She cursed herself for never having truly told him she loved him, even though he had taken the risk to say it to her, before she left.
"You're late, Miss Timurov," the professor remarked the moment she walked in.
The general murmur of the room cut off instantly. Dozens of heads turned in sync toward the door, fixing her with an unbearable curiosity. Kira felt tension gathering at the back of her neck, but forced herself to keep her chin up and her jaw firm. She hated being the centre of attention, and hated even more that her last name rang through the classroom like a warning.
"I'm sorry, professor. I had trouble finding the building," Kira answered in a flat, emotionless voice, trying to ignore the whispers already starting in the back rows.
Professor Vance, a woman with a stern gaze and square glasses, studied her over the rims for a few seconds that felt eternal.
"Don't let it happen again. In the law faculty, punctuality is law," the woman declared, gesturing with her pen toward the seats. "Find an empty spot and get out your notes — we're already halfway through the introduction to civil code."
Kira nodded and walked down the central aisle between the rows of desks. Her eyes quickly searched for the most isolated corner possible. She spotted an empty seat at the back, right by the window, and headed toward it at a brisk pace. As she sat down, she let her heavy textbook drop onto the wood with a thud that released a small fraction of her frustration.
She pulled out a notebook and pen, but her eyes inevitably drifted toward the window glass. The St. Dominics sky was still that same depressing autumn grey.
She felt miserable. Trapped in a town she didn't want, surrounded by strangers who only saw her father's reflection in her, carrying the weight of words she'd never dared to say.
She ran a hand over her face, forcing herself to blink away the melancholy thoughts. She had to focus.
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. . . ╰────── 🍂 ☕ 🍂 ──────╯ . . .
One more mention of Wilhelm Wundt and she was going to fall asleep. She hated underperforming in class, but she would if theory were ever as exciting as gambling. Yumeko wondered idly what Mary was doing right now — finance was surely more interesting than this, or maybe the problem was the professor, who could say.
She rested her cheek on her palm, letting her long black hair fall to one side while her other hand twirled a pen between her fingers. The tick-tock of the classroom clock seemed to mock her boredom, crawling along at an exasperatingly slow pace. The professor's words about structuralism and introspection turned into a monotonous hum that went in one ear and out the other.
There was no uncertainty in that classroom. No risk. Everything was already written out on the slides, and for someone who needed to feel that stomach-drop of leaving everything to chance, that was absolute torture.
Suddenly, a soft knock at the door interrupted the professor's monologue.
Yumeko didn't even blink, but her eyes shot straight to the entrance the moment she saw Sayaka Igarashi peek her head through the gap. The tidy girl she'd met in the hallway looked a little flustered, holding some official folders against her chest while asking the professor's permission in an extremely polite, quiet tone. The professor nodded, cutting off his slide — Yumeko had already lost track of what he was even talking about.
"Sorry for the interruption, professor," Sayaka said, stepping forward and adjusting her glasses with professional poise. "Campus administration asked me to deliver the official list of students selected for the historical research project with the mayor's office. Mayor Timurov requested that the records of the top five GPAs be sent to his office today, before the end of the afternoon."
The last name echoed off the classroom walls, completely unaware that, down in the centre hallway, the owner of that very name was staring fixedly at the grey beyond her window.
Yumeko stopped twirling the pen between her fingers. Her pupils dilated in a fraction of a second beneath her impeccable fringe, and a slow smile, charged with sudden curiosity, began to form at the corner of her lips.
Timurov. So that was the new mayor's last name. And, therefore, the last name of the beautiful, indifferent girl from the café.
"Thank you very much, Miss Igarashi," the professor replied, taking the printed sheet Sayaka handed him. "I'll review the names after the session. You may go."
Sayaka gave a brief bow and left the room, closing the door behind her. The professor cleared his throat, ready to resume his dull explanation of Wundt, but for Yumeko the entire atmosphere of the room had completely transformed. The boredom and drowsiness evaporated from her veins, replaced by an electric current of pure adrenaline. Five GPAs. Five students who would get direct access to the mayor's residence. For what purpose? Did it apply across every degree program? She'd tease Mary about that later.
She glanced sideways at her own notebook, where her perfect grades — the ones she maintained without the slightest effort — placed her undeniably at the top of the faculty's list.
"Well, well…" Yumeko murmured to herself, feeling her heart give an excited little leap as the wad of cards in her bag seemed to burn with anticipation. "Seems like fate really does know how to deal a good hand, after all."
"Miss Jabami, have you found something particularly promising, or why exactly are you smiling so much?" the professor cut in. Damned grumpy man who only ever managed to put people to sleep.
Silence fell over the classroom instantly, and a couple of classmates turned discreetly to watch the dark-haired girl's reaction. Anyone else might have shrunk into their seat or stammered an apology after being called out like that in front of the whole group, but Yumeko wasn't like anyone else.
Instead of wiping the smile off her lips, she widened it just a bit more, adopting an expression of absolute, innocent sweetness that would disarm anyone. She straightened in her seat with that impeccable posture of hers, tucking a strand of her long black hair behind her ear.
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry, professor," Yumeko replied, her voice coming out so soft, melodic, and respectful that it was impossible to trace the mockery hidden beneath it. "It's just that Wundt's structuralist theory strikes me as fascinating. I was thinking about how analytical introspection can reveal the deepest secrets of the human mind through conscious experience. I got distracted imagining how fun it would be to actually put it into practice."
The professor blinked a couple of times, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose, visibly thrown off by such a perfectly composed answer from a student he'd assumed was completely checked out. He cleared his throat lightly to regain his composure, unable to find an argument to scold her with.
"I appreciate your… enthusiasm, Miss Jabami," the man said dryly, turning back toward the board. "But I'd suggest you keep that analysis within the bounds of class if you want to hold on to that perfect GPA everyone in the faculty talks about. Now, back to the topic…"
Yumeko lowered her eyes to her empty notebook as the drone of the technical explanation resumed in the background. She rested her chin on her hand again, but this time the pen wasn't spinning out of boredom — she held it firmly, tracing invisible lines across the paper.
Analytical introspection, she thought to herself, feeling a current of heat run through her body. What perfectly fitting words for what she intended to do. She couldn't care less about Wilhelm Wundt, but the idea of analyzing the mind and behaviour of the elusive mayor's daughter struck her as the most thrilling game of the season.
"Since class is almost over, I'll read out the five lucky students who get to take a tour of city hall and the museum's restricted wing — the mayor also wants to invite them to a gala. But the gala is in four weeks, so you'll need to keep your grades up if you want to keep your spot. That said—" he cleared his throat. "In first place we have Yumeko Jabami. Congratulations, Miss Jabami. I hope you'll take this opportunity with the seriousness it deserves," the grumpy professor remarked, glancing at her over his glasses before lowering his eyes back to the paper to continue with the next names. "In second place…"
Yumeko didn't hear the rest of the names being called. She no longer particularly cared.
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. . . ╰────── 🍂 ☕ 🍂 ──────╯ . . .
It turned out St. Dominics' law classes were far too overwhelming to keep up with. For starters, they focused heavily on local politics instead of covering general material like back in Vancouver. She missed her old life so damn much.
"We're going to do a paired exercise with help from your classmates in psychology. You'll work half the project in pairs, and the other half you'll do alongside a future psychologist, who will play the role of a potential client. We'll hold a mock trial at the end of the month, and I genuinely hope you all do well," the professor explained, and before she could continue, the girl Kira had met in the hallway knocked on the door.
Sayaka asked for permission in that polite, quiet tone, interrupting the class for a moment.
"Sorry for the interruption, Professor Vance," Sayaka said, stepping forward and adjusting her glasses with professional poise. "Campus administration asked me to deliver the official list of students selected from other faculties for the historical research project with the mayor's office. Mayor Timurov requested that the records of the top five GPAs across each program at the university be sent to his office today, before the end of the afternoon."
Kira clenched her teeth imperceptibly upon hearing her own last name echo through the walls of the Law classroom. She hated that label. Hated the reminder that in St. Dominics she wasn't Kira; she was simply an extension of her father's damned political position — a man who was already sticking his nose into things, inviting students to his new office. She looked at Sayaka, but the girl only offered her a subtle, encouraging glance before handing the paper to the professor, giving a brief bow, and leaving the room, closing the door behind her.
Professor Vance set the GPA sheet aside on her desk and cleared her throat, settling her reading glasses onto the bridge of her nose to get back to her own class matters. She ran her finger down the paper listing the internal pairings for the mock trial.
"Alright, listen up. I'll read out the assigned pairs for this classroom. Remember, this case demands a flawless strategy, so get to work starting today," the woman declared firmly, and the general murmur of the room died instantly. "Miss Timurov… you'll be working this case with Mr. Suki Hennessey."
Kira let out a sigh, scanning the rows of desks for this Suki person. A few seconds later, a boy with major influencer energy raised his hand from the far side of the room, flashing her a smile loaded with charisma.
Great. St. Dominics was really managing to turn her first day into a complete headache.
"Look at those nails." Suki slid over next to her, grabbing her hand to admire her perfect blue manicure. "Oh, I already like you, Miss Timurov. Something tells me you're going to be a diva."
"I'm Kira, so just call me Kira," the dark-haired girl said, pulling her hand back, irritated.
"You've already got that lawyer energy," Suki said with a grin. "Give me your Instagram! I need to know you already — I can tell a lot from your nails, but social media talks even more, sweetheart." His tone came out almost sing-songy.
Kira rolled her eyes and let out a resigned sigh. She pulled her phone from her pocket and reluctantly found her profile to hand over, knowing that if she refused, the boy would probably keep pestering her all semester. Suki practically snatched the phone out of her hands with a muffled squeal of excitement and started swiping through the screen, scanning her feed.
"Let's see, let's see… oh my God! Who is this specimen carved by the angels themselves?" Suki exclaimed, stopping dead on one of the recent photos. "Look at that gorgeous blond! Look at that jawline, sweetheart, he looks like a runway model!"
Kira glanced sideways at the screen. It was a photo of her and Ethan at a park in Vancouver, smiling under the trees. She felt a small pang of nostalgia in her chest, but couldn't stop her expression from softening.
"That's Ethan, my boyfriend," Kira answered, crossing her arms and leaning back against her chair.
"Oh, what a beauty!" Suki said dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest before looking Kira up and down with one eyebrow raised. "Though, honestly… given your vibe, your nails, and that 'I hate the entire world' face, I would've sworn you were a lesbian. You've got the whole energy for it."
Kira burst out laughing — the first laugh she'd let out in that classroom, completely disarmed by her new partner's nerve.
"I appreciate the compliment, and I fully support the cause, but I'm way too straight for that," Kira replied between laughs, taking her phone back before Suki decided to keep stalking her entire life. "Let's just focus on this, shall we?"
"Fine, future law diva. Let's get into St. Dominics' boring civil code — though I still think your boyfriend should have a twin brother who's on my team."
Kira laughed again, shaking her head.
"Do you know anyone in psychology? I have no idea who I'm supposed to be paired with."
"I know tons of people, diva — they're all good vibes, and with that gorgeous smile of yours, I guarantee they'll be fighting over you."
Kira hoped that was true.
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. . . ╰────── 🍂 ☕ 🍂 ──────╯ . . .
Finally, she could leave. She was sick of that class and just wanted to get home and sleep.
This was the worst hour of the day. EVERYONE poured out at once and the chaos piled up together — law students, engineering students, and her own faculty, psychology. The three-way hallway junction turned into a suffocating swarm of university jackets, loud chatter, and students subtly shoving each other to reach the main doors. Yumeko moved through it with her usual feline calm, keeping that impeccable posture that made a couple of law boys try to wave hello as she passed, in useless little attempts at flirting. She simply ignored them, filing those looks away in her mind to play with later, whenever boredom forced her to go looking for entertainment.
Right at the point where the left hallway merged with the centre one, the crowd slowed.
And there, barely two metres away, Kira's silhouette appeared. She was coming out of the middle hallway alongside the flamboyant boy who knew all the school gossip, but the brunette wasn't paying attention to her surroundings at all. It was obvious Suki was chasing after Kira's attention — he was a leech who only cared about expanding his little circle of hangers-on.
Yumeko slowed her steps subtly, letting the flow of students part around her. Her pupils dilated in a fraction of a second beneath her impeccable fringe, and her breath caught. She waited, perfectly still, hoping the physical proximity alone would force the mayor's daughter to register her presence.
But nothing happened.
Kira walked right past her, mere centimetres away, heading straight for the main exit without sparing a single fraction of a second's glance, utterly oblivious to the dark eyes scanning her. Her mind was somewhere else entirely, far from St. Dominics, and Yumeko once again became nothing more than a smudge on the wall to her.
Yumeko stayed frozen in place, slowly turning her head to follow the brunette's silhouette with her eyes as it disappeared through the building's double doors. The hollow feeling in her chest returned with overwhelming force — but this time it came paired with a slow, dangerous smile spreading across her lips. No one ignored her twice. No one.
"Suki!" Yumeko called out, her greeting laced with false sweetness. "Who's the new girl?"
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