Chapter 18: The Unraveling of a Slacker’s Peace

Kazami Jin’s life of intentional mediocrity unfolded within a delicate equilibrium. She gradually grew accustomed to Xia Yue’s unspoken dominance and Lin Wan’s excessively affectionate smothering, even beginning to derive a strange sense of security from this ‘kept’ existence—provided she could overlook the latent threat of ‘purification’ that loomed over her at any moment.

Ultimately, this fragile balance was not destined to last.

Yu Niannian, a first-year junior in the art club, was a girl of petite stature, her neat black side ponytail framing a face that often seemed lost in thought. Her voice was invariably whisper-soft, as if she feared disturbing even the slightest ripple of air. She was particularly silent when immersed in her art, frequently settling into a corner of the studio, where she would remain before her easel for an entire afternoon, her slender figure evoking a profound sense of pity. Her paintings, always imbued with a hazy, grayish-blue palette, showcased remarkably delicate brushstrokes, revealing an inner world that was both deeply repressed and strikingly resplendent.

In Yu Niannian, Kazami Jin perceived a poignant reflection of her own initial transmigration—that same cautious, out-of-place shadow of someone perpetually striving to belong yet always feeling like an outsider. A profound sense of shared plight welled up within her, compelling her to offer Yu Niannian a little extra care. She would proactively share her art supplies when Yu Niannian forgot hers, come to her rescue when other club members inadvertently overlooked her, and occasionally lavish praise on her seemingly somber yet strangely compelling artworks, which hummed with an unusual tension.

Yu Niannian, for her part, appeared to rely heavily on Jin, whom she perceived as a ‘gentle yet somewhat melancholic’ senior. Each time Jin arrived at the club, Yu Niannian’s large eyes, always veiled with a misty sheen, would subtly brighten. She would then softly and quietly engage Jin in discussions about painting techniques, or simply remain quietly by her side, content in her presence.

This pure, non-coercive closeness offered Kazami Jin, who felt perpetually under the ‘high-pressure control’ of Xia Yue and Lin Wan, a rare sense of relaxation and, crucially, a moment of precious respite. It allowed her to experience a long-lost feeling of being genuinely needed, unburdened by any trace of threat or coercion, thereby greatly satisfying her subtle ‘senior’s pride,’ which had been utterly crushed in the presence of Xia Yue and Lin Wan.

This newfound tranquility, however, was recently shattered.

Ever since Jin had ‘become completely obedient,’ Xia Yue and Lin Wan’s ‘supervision’ had formally appeared to loosen, permitting her to engage in club activities. Yet, in truth, their pervasive control had only intensified, becoming more insidious than ever.

After-school club activities were now strictly curtailed. More often than not, Jin had barely finished mixing her paints in the studio when Lin Wan’s message, urging her to ‘[Come home and play games],’ would pop up. Alternatively, Xia Yue would appear punctually at the art club’s entrance, spiriting Jin away with an unshakeable declaration: “I have a document that requires your assistance to verify.”

Jin’s visits to the art club had noticeably dwindled. Even when she managed to attend, she was frequently distracted, constantly checking her phone to reply to messages, or her eyes were shadowed with dark circles, and she yawned incessantly—a clear sign of the sleep deprivation caused by Lin Wan treating her as a human pillow the previous night.

Yu Niannian observed all of this with keen interest.

“You… you haven’t been coming to the club much lately,” Yu Niannian’s voice carried a faint tremor. “Is it… is it because you find me too clumsy, too troublesome to teach?”

“How could I!” Jin quickly denied, a surge of guilt washing over her as she witnessed her junior on the verge of tears. “It’s just that I’ve been… quite busy with some personal matters lately. It’s absolutely not about you, Niannian; you’re incredibly smart!”

“Really?” Yu Niannian looked up, her large eyes glistening with unshed tears as she gazed directly at Jin, her gaze unwavering.

“Of course it’s true!” Jin assured her, while simultaneously feeling another surge of irritation towards Lin Wan’s persistent urging.

“Then… then to prove that Senior Jin doesn’t dislike me…” Yu Niannian suddenly took a small step closer, her voice dropping even lower, imbued with a timid yet unusually stubborn undertone. “Today… today, could you stay with me a little longer? Just for a little while… or… could I have a hug?”

‘Another hug?’ A jolt of apprehension shot through Kazami Jin, tightening her scalp reflexively. Yet, upon meeting Yu Niannian’s gaze—a look that purely reflected insecurity and a desperate craving for affirmation—she quickly relaxed. This was utterly unlike the embraces of Xia Yue and Lin Wan, which were always laden with implicit threats and a thirst for control; this was merely a junior’s innocent gesture, seeking solace.

“Alright, just for a moment then,” Jin said with a smile, proactively opening her arms in the reassuring manner of a senior comforting a junior.

Yu Niannian’s eyes instantly brightened, as if stars had fallen into their depths. She immediately leapt into Jin’s embrace, wrapping her arms around Jin’s waist, burying her face in the hollow of her shoulder, and gently rubbing against her.

“Senior Jin… you smell so nice…” she murmured, her voice muffled, accompanied by a sigh of pure contentment.

Jin chuckled softly, gently patting her back. “Alright, alright, it was just a hug. I truly must go now. I promise to be here on time for the next club activity, okay?”

Only then did Yu Niannian reluctantly release her, obediently nodding. “Mm! It’s a promise, Senior!”

Leaving the club activity room, Kazami Jin didn’t give this minor episode much thought. She simply dismissed it as a sensitive junior’s usual plea for affection, stemming from a lack of security.

From that day forward, however, Yu Niannian seemed to have discovered a ‘reasonable’ means of fostering intimacy.

The moment Jin settled in front of her easel, Yu Niannian approached, carrying a steaming cup of milk tea. Her voice remained soft and gentle, yet it now held a subtle, almost imperceptible persistence. “Senior Jin, this is for you. You look quite fatigued…”

“Thank you, Niannian.” Jin was indeed feeling a little sluggish. She took the cup, its warmth perfectly comforting in her hands.

She took a sip. It was fragrant, subtly sweet jasmine milk tea, with just a hint of sugar—precisely her preferred flavor. A flicker of surprise crossed her face. “How did you know I liked this?”

Yu Niannian’s cheeks flushed faintly, and her fingers unconsciously twirled the hem of her skirt. She whispered, “I… I’ve been observing Senior for a long time. Every time you visit the convenience store, you always seem to choose this one…” Her tone held a hint of small triumph, yet was tinged with shyness.

A subtle sense of unease flickered through Jin, but it was swiftly assuaged by the comforting warmth of the milk tea. She simply concluded that her junior was truly both attentive and thoughtful.

However, Yu Niannian’s subsequent action left her utterly stunned. The girl suddenly leaned in close, produced a clean tissue, and with an incredibly gentle motion, wiped the corner of Jin’s mouth, her tone imbued with natural concern. “Senior, you’ve got a little milk foam.”

Her fingertips carried the faint, sharp scent of turpentine and paint. They were so close that Jin could clearly discern the faint blue veins beneath Yu Niannian’s fair skin, and her large eyes, even more glistening up close, were now brimming with what appeared to be pure concern.

This sudden intimacy caused Jin’s body to stiffen slightly. However, reminding herself that the other person was merely a sensitive junior, perhaps a little overly dependent, she suppressed that momentary discomfort and offered a grateful smile.

Yet, the instances of odd behavior multiplied, or perhaps, they simply became too frequent to ignore.

She would ‘accidentally’ pick up the wrong paintbrush, her cool fingers brushing lightly against Jin’s hand, only to recoil as if burned, apologizing profusely with flushed earlobes, all while secretly glancing at Jin’s reaction.

She would coincidentally crouch down whenever Jin bent to pick up an eraser that had fallen to the floor, their strands of hair briefly intertwining in the air, leaving a faint, elusive scent that belonged to Yu Niannian—a mix of damp art studio and delicate fragrance.

When only the two of them remained in the studio, she would quietly shift her easel closer to Jin’s, and while tidying her art supplies, her knee or arm would ‘accidentally’ make brief, almost imperceptible contact with Jin.

She would use the pretext of ‘asking for guidance’ to lean in extremely close while Jin explained something, her hair almost brushing Jin’s cheek, her breath a faint, fleeting caress.

Compared to the ‘intimate demands’ of Xia Yue and Lin Wan, Yu Niannian’s actions were utterly trivial, pure to the point of innocence.

But gradually, even Jin couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss; was this truly just a junior’s reliance on her senior?

It felt… somehow, these clingy tactics subtly echoed a familiar, ‘magical girl’ kind of stubbornness—the ‘never give up until the goal is achieved’ sort.

The thought flashed through her mind, absurd even to herself. How could Yu Niannian be a magical girl? She was so small, so timid, a perfect match for Jin’s own ‘transmigrated weakling witch’ persona—a kindred spirit!

‘I must be overthinking things,’ she concluded, ‘it’s just PTSD from Xia Yue and Lin Wan.’ She shook her head, pushing down the nascent doubt.

Until that evening, as the sun began to set.

Once again, only the two of them remained in the art studio. The warm, orange glow of the setting sun filtered through the tall windows, painting the dust motes in the air with nostalgic hues. Jin was cleaning her paintbrushes, while Yu Niannian stood quietly behind her, their shadows stretching long.

“Senior Jin…” Yu Niannian’s voice was even softer than usual, yet it clung like a spider’s silk, gently winding around her.

“Hmm? What is it, Niannian?” Jin turned her head, water dripping from her fingertips.

Yu Niannian looked up, and in those large eyes, always shimmering with moisture, now surged an emotion Jin knew all too well, yet found utterly terrifying—a powerful possessiveness, carefully suppressed yet on the verge of breaking free, utterly at odds with her demure, fragile exterior. She took a small step forward, instantly closing the distance between them until Jin could feel the faint brush of her breath.

“Senior…” She reached out, and this time, it wasn’t the hesitant touch from before, but a direct, firm grip on Jin’s still-damp wrist. Her fingers were slender and cool, yet they held an unexpected, undeniable strength, their tips even pressing slightly into Jin’s skin. “Why… why haven’t you been coming to watch me paint much lately?”

Her voice still maintained its soft, gentle tone, but its tail end carried a subtle tremor and… a deeply buried accusation?

“Is it because… of Senior Xia Yue and Senior Lin Wan?” she pressed, her eyes unblinkingly locked on Jin, as if trying to see through her soul, not missing the slightest flicker of hesitation or concealment.

Jin was stunned by the almost palpable obsession in Yu Niannian’s eyes and the undeniable grip on her wrist. A sudden chill, unbidden, shot up from the base of her spine, instantly spreading through her limbs. She opened her mouth, but found herself unable to utter a sound.

Seeing her silence, Yu Niannian’s gaze abruptly darkened, like a deep pool impenetrable by sunlight. The fingers gripping Jin’s wrist tightened further with stubborn force, and her body leaned in even closer, almost pressing its full weight against Jin. She lifted her innocent, childlike face, her warm breath, tinged with sweetness, brushing against Jin’s sensitive jawline, raising goosebumps. Then, in a low whisper, like a devil’s temptation, with a tone that mixed coaxing, grievance, and an unyielding obstinacy, she murmured:

“I also want… to have intimate contact with Senior.”

“Like them… no, I want more, and for longer, than them.”

“Can I, Senior Jin?”

Kazami Jin stared at the beautiful face inches from hers, a canvas of innocence and obsession, listening to the predatory declaration that spilled from that soft voice, a stark contrast to her appearance. She felt as if she had plunged into an icy abyss.

She suddenly realized with chilling clarity that she might have… once again misjudged someone.

This junior, whom she had believed to be a kindred spirit, simply in need of protection, was no harmless little rabbit at all.

That familiar, suffocating sensation of being coveted and fought over like a possession, once again surged over her like a cold tide, engulfing her completely.

‘Could it be… is my constitution for attracting such beings ingrained in my very soul?!’

‘Even when I change locations to catch my breath, I still precisely run into another hidden…?’

The intense feeling that something was terribly wrong, like countless icy vines, instantly coiled around her heart, slowly tightening.

‘She’s not a magical girl too, is she?’