Fei Xiao walked on her left, their two schoolbags swinging on their shoulders—one on the left, one on the right.
Her steps were very slow, so slow that Rinna didn’t have to put in any effort to keep up.
The shadows of the two walking side by side were stretched long by the setting sun—one taller, one shorter.
The taller one’s shoulders bulged with the outlines of two bags, like a pair of asymmetrical wings growing out of them.
The shadows dragged across the gaps between the tiles on the ground, across the shadow of the flower bed’s edge, across the dappled tree shadows cast by the ginkgo tree at the school gate, and then together they stepped out of the school gate.
The station was about three hundred meters to the right of the school gate.
Three hundred meters. For an ordinary person, a three-minute walk. For Rinna, it was a distance that required stopping halfway to catch her breath.
Fei Xiao had obviously calculated it in advance.
When they reached about two hundred meters, her steps would unconsciously slow down just a little more—so little that Rinna almost couldn’t notice it—but just enough to keep Rinna’s heart rate stable within a safe range.
This was a rhythm worked out through repeated trials. So many tries that it had become muscle memory.
A lot of people were already waiting on the station platform. Students wearing the same school uniform, office workers carrying briefcases, a young mother pushing a stroller.
The setting sun leaked in from the edge of the platform canopy, drawing a clear light-dark boundary line on the ground, cutting the people on the platform in half.
The air had a distinctive metallic smell from the train tracks after being baked by the sun, mixed with the aroma of canned coffee drifting from the vending machine in the corner of the platform.
The electronic display overhead scrolled the arrival times of the next train. The red LED lights jumped one by one, making a very faint buzzing sound.
Rinna and Fei Xiao stood at the end of the line.
“Mom and Dad went abroad again today.”
“They went to get me some special medicine.”
After she spoke, the corners of her mouth lifted, trying hard to make it sound like something worth being happy about.
But that smile was too light, too fragile, like a breath of white air exhaled onto a window—disappearing before it could be clearly seen.
Fei Xiao tilted her head to look at her.
Rinna didn’t look back. Her gaze was fixed on the yellow tactile paving at the edge of the platform. The raised patterns on it had been polished shiny by countless shoe soles.
Her voice continued to drift out, each word very light, as if she were saying something that didn’t need to be taken seriously.
“My dad said this time he got in touch with an expert abroad. That place has a new medicine that works especially well for people with weak constitutions. My mom booked the tickets without a second thought. They flew out overnight.”
As she spoke, she reached up and smoothed a lock of white hair that the wind had blown across her cheek, tucking it behind her ear.
Her ear was very thin, almost transparent under the setting sun, with a faint pink glow at the edge—you could see the fine capillaries underneath.
“They really… wear themselves out over this body of mine.”
The end of this sentence dropped just a little. Just a little—if you weren’t paying attention, you wouldn’t notice it at all.
Fei Xiao didn’t say anything. She just moved half a step closer to Rinna.
There had been about ten centimeters of space between their shoulders. Now it was five centimeters.
The scent of gardenia shampoo from Fei Xiao drifted over—faint, carried by the evening breeze, like an invisible thin veil gently covering Rinna’s skin.
“Come eat at my place today,” Fei Xiao said.
When she spoke, her fingers hanging at her side curled slightly, the tips brushing against her skirt, as if holding back a larger movement.
Rinna finally turned her head and smiled at Fei Xiao.
“Yeah. Mooching off Xiao Xiao’s food again.”
Fei Xiao’s eyelashes fluttered gently. She turned her head toward the direction of the tracks, her black hair covering her profile.
But Rinna saw a little patch of red on the tip of her ear.
The wind pressure from the arriving train rushed in, carrying a stuffy, hot air current and the smell of dust from the tracks.
The screech of the brake pads rubbing against the wheels pierced the air as the train decelerated, like a long, drawn-out whistle.
People on the platform began to surge forward, like iron filings attracted by a magnet, the formation scattering and regrouping in an instant.
Fei Xiao shielded Rinna in front of her, one hand gently pressing against her back, moving toward the train door along with the flow of the crowd.
Then they got on the train.
And then Rinna understood what “rush hour” meant.
The air inside the carriage was stuffy and thick, as if it had been breathed in and out too many times, the oxygen content already at an uncomfortable low.
The mixture of smells—the cigarette smoke on a certain office worker’s suit, the overly strong perfume of another passenger, the smell of sweat drifting from who knows where, and the slightly moldy-smelling cold air from the train’s air conditioner—all these smells churned into an indescribable thick soup in the enclosed space, sticky and clinging to everyone’s nostrils.
Rinna was short, squeezed in the crowd, her field of vision filled with other people’s chests and backs—all kinds of shirts, suits, and school uniforms pressed together into an impenetrable wall.
The overhead grab handles swayed back and forth, occasionally hitting someone’s head with a dull thud.
The air was so stuffy it made her dizzy.
Then Fei Xiao moved.
A hand reached past Rinna’s shoulder, palm pressing against the interior wall of the carriage behind her.
Fei Xiao leaned forward, her other hand reaching around to the back of Rinna’s head, her palm gently pressing against her occiput, fingers slightly spread, cradling her head in a soft, stable support.
Their bodies were very close.
So close that Rinna could feel Fei Xiao’s body heat transmitting through the thin fabric of the summer uniform, carrying a warmth.
But Fei Xiao’s arms had created a small space on either side of Rinna, like a fence built from bones and muscles, blocking out the surrounding crowd.
Rinna’s back was against the cold metal interior wall of the carriage; in front of her was Fei Xiao’s body heat.
One cold, one hot—sandwiching her, making her feel like she was in a tiny room that belonged only to the two of them.
The scent.
Rinna was being kabedon’d by Fei Xiao. On a crowded train. Rush hour. Surrounded by people.
“Why didn’t you take Xiao Xiao’s family car home?” Rinna’s voice was muffled, coming from around Fei Xiao’s chest area.
Her face was almost pressed against the fabric of Fei Xiao’s shirt. When she spoke, her lips accidentally brushed against the cloth, and she could taste a faint residual scent of laundry detergent.
She lifted her head, her chin resting just below Fei Xiao’s collarbone, able to see only Fei Xiao’s jawline and a small section of her fair neck.
Fei Xiao’s carotid artery pulsed gently beneath her skin, a steady rhythm, beat by beat, like some kind of reassuring timer.
Fei Xiao looked down.
Her black hair fell, landing beside Rinna’s cheek, the ends brushing against her ear, tickling.
The distance between their faces was probably less than ten centimeters.
Fei Xiao’s eyes looked especially deep at this distance—a deep brown settled with moving light coming in from outside the window, like a small piece of crushed gold embedded in dark amber.
Her eyelashes were long; each blink traced a small arc across Rinna’s field of vision.
“I originally wanted to experience a normal student’s after-school routine together with Rinna.”