I gently took Ayase's arm, guiding her into the safety of my house. "Let's get you dried off," I suggested. "You don't want to catch a cold after all of this."

It was painful to see her so out of sorts, her usually bright purple eyes were filled with fear and uncertainty. I wanted to reassure her, to tell her everything was okay, but for now, all I could do was help her get dry and warm.

I led her into my bedroom, where I handed her a towel and a set of spare clothes. "Ayase," I said quietly, "I'm going to dry your hair if that's okay." She gave a small nod, but her eyes remained distant and unfocused.

"I'm sorry," I said, holding out a large, white t-shirt and a pair of my PE joggers, "I don't have any clothes that would fit you better." She didn't respond verbally, but her small nod told me she understood.

Stepping out of the room, I closed the door behind me, giving her some privacy to change. Each passing second felt like an eternity.

I was worried, of course. Seeing Ayase in such a state was distressing, but I didn't want to push her or make her feel any more uncomfortable than she already was.

After a few minutes, I gently knocked on the door. "Ayase, may I come in?" I asked. I heard a quiet "yes" from the other side, and I turned the knob, stepping back into the room.

Ayase was sitting on the edge of the bed, now dressed in the clothes I'd given her. The shirt was indeed too large for her, but she seemed more comfortable, at least physically. Her hair, however, was a different story. It was untied and spread out in a pink, messy heap around her shoulders.

She looked so fragile sitting there, so vulnerable and weak-looking, the complete opposite of the shy yet determined "Pinkie" that I first knew. It was a heartbreaking sight.

I carefully picked up a comb from the side table, turning back to Ayase. "May I?" I asked, gesturing to her hair. She didn't respond with words but gave me a slight nod.

As gently as I could, I started combing through her long, pink hair. Every now and then, I would encounter a tangle and would do my best to carefully untangle it, hoping to not cause her any more discomfort.

Tears began to fall from Ayase's eyes as I combed through her hair. Her crying, though quiet, was like a stab to my heart. I had already failed her once in middle school, and even though we weren't that close in middle school, I had always kept an eye on her. I could tell, even back then, that she was dealing with more than she let on. But I never stepped in, never tried to help her.

And now, I might be seeing the consequences of my decision, even after I was already living a kind of comfortable life as Kurotsuki, who works with a great illustrator named Pinkie.

I stopped combing her hair and gently wiped away her tears. "I'm sorry, Imaizumi-san," I said softly to her.

However, at my apology, something seemed to snap within Ayase. She pushed my hand away, her face contorting in a mix of anger and sorrow. "N-No, don't apologize, Kurumizawa-san," she snapped, her voice shaking with the intensity of her feelings.

"You don't get to apologize, not after all this time."

I blinked, taken aback by her sudden outburst. Ayase wasn't typically confrontational. She was shy, reserved, and always trying to keep her emotions in check. But now, it seemed as if she couldn't hold back any longer.

What good timing...

"You were there," she continued, with her voice growing louder with every word. "You saw how they treated me in middle school, for three years! You saw how I was picked on, how I was humiliated, how I was hurt... and yet, you did nothing. Why? Why didn't you help me, Kurumizawa-san? You were the only one who could have done something, but you didn't."

Her words stung, effectively cutting deep into my heart. I knew she was right. I could've intervened. I could've helped. But I didn't. And for that, I felt my guilt start to envelop me and intensify with each of Ayase's accusations.

As if that wasn't enough, she suddenly started tugging at her hair, her face was formed into a figure filled with despair as she let out a heart-wrenching sob.

"I hate this! I hate my life! Myself! Everything! God I wish I could die!" she cried out, her words loudly echoing in the bedroom.

"And now I'm living my life for someone who sacrificed themselves for me, and it wasn't you, Kurumizawa-san. It wasn't you!"

Sacrificed? Did someone save her? From what?

Shaking those questions off for a moment, I moved closer to her, wrapping my arms around her trembling form.

"It's okay..." I murmured gently into her ear, even as my own heart ached. "It's okay... It's okay, I'm here now. I won't leave you alone anymore."

I could feel Ayase stiffen in my arms before she forcefully pushed me away. The next thing I knew, I was nursing a stinging slap on my face, sending my glasses flying across the room.

"H-How dare you...!" Ayase's voice wavered. "How dare you try to make things up when it's too late! After I've already hit rock bottom... after everything!"

Her outburst hit me harder than her slap. I could hear the clear despair in her voice, the pain and anger intermingling.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

But I didn't mind, because she was right.

"My parents don't love me," she sobbed. "And I thought I was safe from bullying after transferring schools... but it's still happening! It's still happening..."

I felt my heart clench painfully. Now I had no idea what to say, how to comfort her. I'm an author, a writer, yet I can't get my brain to work and say something meaningful to her.

"I'm sorry," I found myself saying again, bowing my head in shame. But the words felt hollow, it was clearly insufficient to ease her pain.

"I hate you!" Ayase cried out. But then her voice softened to a whisper, interrupted by some of her hiccups. "But I can't... I can't mean it."

My head shot up, my eyes meeting her tear-streaked face. And I saw that there was so much hurt in her eyes, so much pain, clearly. But there was something else too. Something that looked a lot like... longing?

"Y-You're... you're unfair, Kurumizawa-san," she choked out. "N-Not Kurotsuki-sensei... but you."

I listened quietly as her words were punctuated by sniffles and the hiccupping sobs that wracked her frail body.

"I-I didn't know you were Kurotsuki-sensei that time," she confessed. "So I was so shocked... shocked to meet you again at Hikari Suisei. To know that you were the one who wrote... wrote the books that inspired me so much."

She took a shaky breath, her hands balling into fists at her sides. "I... I admired you even more because of that, looking past your mistakes," she continued.

"But... but that's not it," she added. "I-It's you... you're the one being unfair."

My heart clenched at her words, but I didn't know what to say. Instead, I gently reached out and wiped her tears away, despite the risk of her lashing out at me again. I didn't mind it. If she needed to vent her pain, I'd gladly take it.

Ayase didn't hit me again, instead, she cried until there were no more tears left. I stayed by her side, wiping away each one.

Eventually, her sobs began to quiet down, and her body relaxed slightly. Taking this as my cue, I stood up to retrieve my glasses from where they'd landed and walked out of the room to get her a glass of water from the kitchen.

When I returned, she was staring at me, her eyes wide as they landed on the mark of her slap on my face. I couldn't help but chuckle at her surprised expression.

"S-Sorry," she stuttered, her eyes dropping to the floor. "I shouldn't have hit you... And I said some really terrible things... I'm sorry."

I gave her an understanding smile. "It's okay, Imaizumi-san. I know you've been through a lot."

As she continued to recover from her sobs, Ayase seemed to remember something. "O-Oh, Kurumizawa-san? I... I got 9th place on the Top 25 scorers among the first years," she said to me, her voice still struggling a little bit.

"Really? That's good to hear, congratulations," I gently replied.

"T-Thank you," she responded with a small smile. "I couldn't have done it without your help."

With that, she seemed to recall the reason she had come here in the first place. "Oh, by the way, why did you call me here?" she asked.

"I wanted to give you something," I replied, walking over to my personal study table and pulling open a drawer. I retrieved an early sample copy of Hikari Monthly's June issue and handed it to her. Ayase looked surprised, and I encouraged her to take a look inside.

Ayase's eyes widened as she flipped through the pages, eventually coming to a stop on a particular article. "Is this...?" she asked me, and I nodded.

"Yes, Kaname-san sent it to me. It's an early sample copy of Hikari Monthly's June issue," I explained, watching her face carefully for her reaction, "And starting from this page... this is our work, Ayase. 'Rose of Vermillion.'"

The impact of my words was evident in her widening eyes. "Our... our work?" she repeated in disbelief, her fingers tracing over the title on the page. It was part of a section dedicated to showcasing one-shots from various authors. Our story was nestled among the others, the proud product of our collaboration.

A quiet "wow" escaped her lips as she recognized her artwork of Rose on the cover page. She flipped through some of the pages of the section for 'Rose of Vermillion' and found the five other illustrations she had created for the scenes.

"K-Kurumizawa-san," she said, looking up at me, her purple eyes shining with a mixture of joy and disbelief, "My artworks... they're in the magazine!"

"That's because you worked hard," I reassured her. "And I'm grateful for that. Anyway, you should keep this copy, it's yours."

Her eyes widened at my words, "Really? Can I really keep it?"

I chuckled at her adorable reaction. "Of course, you can. You can even show it off during your live streams, if you'd like."

Her smile widened, she was clearly excited. But before she could get too carried away, I quickly added, "But remember, this is just the beginning. We shouldn't celebrate too much just yet."

Her eyes then met mine, she tilted her head in wonder, "Why not?"

"Because we still need to win the readers' poll, remember?" I reminded her. "Only two from the one-shots will be selected to be turned into a full series. If we get picked, we'll get the chance to continue 'Rose of Vermillion.' So we still have a lot of work ahead of us."

She nodded at my words. "O-Of course! Kurumizawa-san. But...but it's my first time seeing my work in a magazine. I just can't help but feel happy."

"And you have every right to be. It's a big achievement for you. So let's work even harder from here."

As I looked out the window, I observed that the rain had lessened to a gentle drizzle. Turning to Ayase, I suggested, "I think it's best if you go home and rest now. I'll help you pack your wet clothes, you can return my clothing the next time you visit here."

She nodded in agreement, and I walked towards the laundry basket where she had earlier dropped her soaked uniform. Just as I reached for the wet fabric, Ayase let out a strangled yelp and rushed toward me.

"W-Wait, Kurumizawa-san!"

But it was too late. My hand had already closed around not only her uniform but also a piece of delicate fabric that I quickly realized was her undergarment.

It's pink as well...

I could feel my cheeks burning as I hastily pulled my hand back, dropping the clothes back into the basket.

"S-Sorry!" I stammered out, trying my best to avoid her gaze. "I-I didn't realize..."

Somehow, her face was as red as mine, but she quickly composed herself and nodded, "I-It's okay, Kurumizawa-san. I-I'll pack them myself..."

We stood there for a moment, and let ourselves get devoured by the awkwardness. I handed her the canvas bag and turned away, allowing her to pack her clothes in peace.

As I turned back to face Ayase, she was halfway done packing when I saw her grinning, her eyes looking devious all of a sudden, "Kurumizawa-san," she began, her voice light with teasing, "were you thinking of anything... perverted when you realized what you were holding?"

My cheeks flamed even brighter, and I shook my head vehemently. "Of course not!" I defended, "That would be highly inappropriate of me."

Ayase laughed, a sound filled my chest with relief. As it helped me tell that she was feeling better, and that was what mattered most. But for some reason, she wasn't done teasing me yet, "Is this your first time having such an 'accident', Kurumizawa-san?" she asked, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Flustered, I nodded, "Y-Yes, it is. Now, could you please finish packing so I can walk you home?" I requested, trying to get back some semblance of control over the situation.

Still chuckling, she agreed, "Okay, okay... Kurotsuki-sensei, you're such a pervert." She then teased once again, this time catching me off-guard.

I blushed furiously and looked away, as her sudden teasing was too much for my heart to handle.

"C-Can you please stop joking around like that?"