Green plums cannot become lovers.

"So, Xiao Ju, who do you like?"

The crisp, clear sound of burning salted lemons, filled with playful excitement, echoed through the night sky. The firelight cast flickering shadows on everyone's faces.

Komari didn't answer. Her expression froze for a moment in the firelight, as if someone had pressed the pause button. That moment was so brief that no one noticed, so brief that she thought she had hidden it well.

Everyone assumed she was just shy. After all, Komari Chika was always like that—speaking softly, avoiding eye contact when talking to people, blushing when called upon, and shrinking into a ball when pressed for answers. Her silence at this moment was, in everyone's eyes, merely a continuation of her shyness, no different from usual.

But Komari Chika herself knew that it was different.

Her fingers gripped the hem of her clothes so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Her heart was pounding so hard that she felt everyone around her could hear the sound—thump, thump, thump, like someone drumming in her chest.

She wanted to say "no," "I don't like anyone," and "Don't ask anymore." Those words swirled in her mind, but each time they reached her lips, it was as if something was stuck in her throat, and she couldn't get them out.

Feeling the gazes of everyone, Komari Chika tried to refuse with silence. She lowered her head, staring at the hand on her knee, hoping time would pass quickly, hoping someone would change the subject, hoping that Roasted Salt Lemon would suddenly become interested in someone else.

But the salted lemon clearly didn't give her that chance.

"Speak up, Xiao Ju! Once you've chosen, you can't go back on your word!"

Her voice was still clear and crisp, with a relentless edge. It wasn't intentional; she was just curious, just thought it was part of the game, just didn't know that this simple question would push someone to the edge of a cliff.

Xiaoju Zhihua regretted choosing truth.

She shouldn't have chosen that. She should have chosen dare, done ten push-ups, yelled "I'm an idiot," or done anything embarrassing. Embarrassment is temporary; people laugh at you and it's over, it doesn't leave a mark. But the truth is different; the truth is about laying your heart bare for others to see.

Seeing that silence was useless, she tried to deny that she had someone she liked. She opened her mouth, ready to say "I don't," the three words were already on the tip of her tongue, light and airy, as if once they were spoken, everything would be over.

People would let out a disappointed "Eh—" and move on to the next person. No one would ask any questions, no one would care. She could continue being the quiet, unassuming Xiao Juzhihua, and no one would know that someone lived in her heart.

However, when she noticed Shintaro Tamaki's gaze, she couldn't bring herself to say, "I don't like anyone."

He was looking at her, not with a serious, scrutinizing gaze, but casually, as if he were looking at anyone else. The firelight reflected in his eyes, casting a small patch of orange light, obscuring his expression.

But a faint smile played on his lips, just as he always did, just as he did when he looked at anyone.

Xiaoju Zhihua suddenly felt a tightness in her throat.

She could lie to everyone, she could say "no" to the roasted lemon, she could say "no" to Hanami Anna, she could say "no" to Himemiya Karen. But she couldn't say "no" to him.

It wasn't because he would see through her, but because she didn't want to lie to him. Even if he didn't know what she was talking about, even if he didn't care about the answer, she still didn't want to.

But she couldn't tell the truth. If she did, everything would change.

A fierce internal struggle was raging within her, as if two voices were fighting inside her. One said, "Just say it, you'll have to face it sooner or later anyway," while the other said, "You can't say it, there's no going back." She was caught in the middle, torn apart, feeling like she was about to break apart.

Just as she was on the verge of collapse, a gentle melody began to play.

It wasn't a guitar, it was an electronic keyboard. An and Asuka had picked up the keyboard that lay on the veranda at some point, their fingers lightly touching the keys. Notes floated out one by one, unhurriedly, like a stroll in the night.

It was the song she often listened to.

Wedding in a Dream.

Xiao Juzhihua was stunned.

She had listened to this song countless times, when she was alone with her headphones on, when she couldn't sleep at night, and when she wrote those tender yet bittersweet words on her manuscript paper.

She had listened to it countless times and fantasized about it countless times—fantasizing that one day, she could stand in front of someone like the person in the song and say the words that had been hidden in her heart for a long time.

She didn't know why An and Asuka were playing this piece at this moment. Perhaps it was a coincidence, perhaps not. She just felt that the notes seemed to have come specifically for her, falling one after another on her heart, knocking cracks in the wall within her.

The cracks grew larger and larger, until finally—with a loud crash—the wall collapsed.

Komari Chika's inner defenses were completely breached.

She looked up at Shintaro Tamaki beside her. The firelight illuminated his face, softening his features. His eyes reflected the firelight, and the curve of his lips remained—gentle, unhurried, and always just right.

At that moment, she felt as if the whole world had vanished. There was no campfire, no crowd, no sound of waves or chirping insects. Only she and the person before her remained, along with the urgent, sorrowful, and heartbreaking strains of "Wedding in a Dream."

"I...I like it..."

Her voice was trembling, but it was a little louder than before.

"I...I like Minister Tamaki!"

When those words came out of her mouth, it was as if something had been ripped from her body. She felt lightheaded, as if she were about to fly away, or perhaps fall.

I've always loved you.

Her voice grew increasingly steady, as if she were speaking of something she had prepared for a long time. In fact, she had indeed prepared for a long time, through countless sleepless nights, on every page of manuscript filled and crossed out, in every moment of hesitation. She had prepared countless times, but she never imagined that the day would actually come when she would say it.

"You always care about me, which warms my heart. Every time I show you my manuscript, you read it very carefully, then give me suggestions, and sometimes you even scold me..."

Her lips curved slightly, but tears were already welling up in her eyes. "But I know you're doing this for my own good."

The campfire crackled, a spark rose, flashed briefly in the night sky, and then went out.

"You said my writing has warmth; no one has ever praised me like that before..."

She sniffed, her voice beginning to tremble.

"I know I'm not good enough. I'm bad at talking, bad at interacting with people, and I always hide in a corner. I don't dare look you in the eye, I don't dare to talk to you first, and even my hands tremble when I hand you the manuscript. But..."

She looked up at Shintaro Tamaki.

"But I still love you."

Tears finally fell. Not the silent, quiet kind of tears, but the kind that had been held back for a long time and finally found an outlet. Large tears rolled out of her eyes, streamed down her cheeks, and dripped onto the back of her hand, warm.

"So, I like you... Please, please go out with me!"

She shouted out her last words as if she had used up all her strength.

"Wedding in a Dream" reached its climax at this moment. The rapid notes fell like raindrops, and the sorrowful melody swirled in the night sky, like someone weeping softly, or like someone laughing and sighing.

The firelight illuminated Shintaro Tamaki's face. The smile that had been playing on his lips was now frozen. His eyes widened slightly, and his lips moved, but no sound came out. He looked at her, his eyes filled with surprise, bewilderment, and something else she couldn't understand.

silence.

The only sounds were the crackling of the campfire and the chirping of insects coming from somewhere in the distance.

Then he spoke.

"sorry."

His voice wasn't loud, but it was exceptionally clear in the quiet night.

"Xiao Ju, I appreciate your kindness, but..."

He didn't finish speaking. But everyone understood what he meant.

Xiaoju Zhihua stood in front of the campfire, watching his lips move as he continued to speak. "You are excellent," "You will meet someone better," "I don't want to hold you back."

She had heard those words in TV dramas, read them in novels, and seen them in other people's stories. She never imagined that one day someone would say these things to her.

She didn't want to hear it.

She heard nothing more clearly, for all she could hear was the howling wind. The wind was so loud that it drowned out his voice, drowned out the final notes of "Wedding in a Dream."

She felt as if she were stuffed into a vacuum glass dome, able to see people moving, talking, and looking at her outside, but unable to hear anything.

She turned around and started running.

Her slippers smacked softly on the grass. The night wind whipped her hair back, and the cool breeze carried her tears down her cheeks. She didn't look back, nor did she stop. She didn't know how long she had run, or how far she had gone; she just kept running, running into the moonlit darkness.

The voice of burning salted lemons came from behind: "Xiao Ju!"

Then came the sound of a chair being knocked over, someone shouting "Wait a minute," and someone standing up amidst a flurry of footsteps.

But the sounds grew farther and farther away, fainter and fainter, as if they were coming from another world.

The group stood frozen by the campfire.

For a while, no one spoke.

The woman with the salted lemon stood there, still clutching the skewer in her hand, her expression shifting from bewilderment to unease, then from unease to guilt. Her lips moved, but her voice was much softer than usual.

"Did I... say something wrong...?"

No one answered. Shintaro Tamaki lowered his head, looking at his hands, lost in thought. Koto Tsukinoki stood beside him, his gaze fixed on his downcast profile, hesitant to speak. Seeing Anna's furrowed brow, Karen Himegami gently squeezed her hand.

The atmosphere plummeted into silence. The courtyard, which had been bustling like a temple fair just moments before, was now so quiet that the faint sound of the charcoal fire going out could be heard.

"It has nothing to do with you."

An and Asuka's voices slowly rose. He had stopped playing at some point, his fingers resting on the strings, his gaze fixed on the direction where Komari Chika had disappeared.

"It was her own choice."

He paused.

"She could have lied, but she chose to tell the truth."

She truly faced it bravely.

Roasted Salt Lemon looked up, her eyes slightly red. Seeing Anja walk over, Bana gently patted her shoulder.

"Lemon, it's not your fault." Himegami Karen also came over, her voice gentle, "Komari...she'll have to face this sooner or later."

Tsukinoki Koto also spoke up, his tone much gentler than usual: "Yes, it's hard to say for sure about these things. You just asked a question, and she didn't avoid it."

The man with the salted lemon sniffed and nodded, but his fingers were still trembling slightly.

"I'll go find her." Shintaro Tamaki looked up, his voice a little hoarse. "After all, it's me..."

He didn't finish his sentence. But everyone knew what he wanted to say—after all, he was the one who rejected her, after all, he was the one who let her run away, after all, he was the one who made that quiet girl, who always hid in the corner, cry in front of everyone.

Upon hearing this, Tsukinoki Koto's lips moved, as if she wanted to say something but then stopped. Her gaze lingered on Tamaki Shintaro's face for a moment before shifting away.

“I’ll go.” An and Asuka stood up and put the keyboard aside. “There are more important things waiting for you to do.”

As he spoke, he glanced at Tsukinoki Koto, who was standing next to Tamaki Shintaro.

The look was fleeting and brief, but Tsukinoki Koto saw it. Her eyelashes fluttered, she lowered her eyes, and remained silent.

"Asuka, hurry up and go." Yagami saw Anzu nudging him.

"You must give Xiaoju some good advice." Himegami Karen nodded as well.

They all felt that only this young man had the ability to comfort Xiao Ju Zhihua.

They couldn't speak well, Lemon was still blaming herself, and Warm Water probably wouldn't work either, so only this boy could shoulder this great responsibility.

"Okay." An and Asuka responded, put down their guitars, and walked in the direction where Komari Chika had disappeared.

That direction is the sea.

Under the moonlight, his shadow was stretched long, extending from the gate of the courtyard all the way into the distant grass, like a road leading to the sea.

Komari Chika sat curled up on the beach.

She couldn't remember how she got here. She only remembered that as she ran, the grass under her feet turned into sand, and her flip-flops sank in and she couldn't pull them out, so she simply kicked off her shoes and continued running barefoot.

The sand was soft, but it was full of broken seashells that hurt her feet, but she didn't stop. She ran all the way to the beach, until the waves reached her ankles, before she stopped.

Then she squatted down, hugged her knees, and buried her face in them.

The silvery moonlight bathed the entire sea, swaying gently with the waves. It looked beautiful and tender, but when it shone on her, it offered no warmth. She felt as if she were trapped in a transparent box, able to see the light outside but unable to feel any warmth.

The waves surged in and receded, making a deep, rumbling sound, like the ocean breathing. The sound of the waves was so loud that she felt it could drown out everything on her way there.

But now, as she crouches here, with the sound of the waves right beside her ears, she can clearly hear herself crying—not from her ears, but from her body, from her chest, from her throat, from those places that are blocked.

The bright moon hangs high, yet its light cannot penetrate the girl's heart. The tide rises and falls, but its sound cannot drown out the girl's soft sobs.

In the end, I still said it.

But he was rejected.

And in front of so many people... she felt like a clown.

She remembered the way he looked at her. It wasn't disgust, it wasn't disdain, it wasn't even apology, just a slight pause followed by calm.

She suddenly felt ridiculous.

After preparing for so long, agonizing for so long, and mustering the greatest courage of my life, all he could say to me was "I'm sorry."

She cried even harder, but her voice was still soft. She'd always been like this since she was little: she cried silently, silently under the covers, silently in the bathroom, silently in a corner where no one could see her. If she didn't cry, she wouldn't be discovered; if she wasn't discovered, she wouldn't have to explain; and if she didn't have to explain, she wouldn't feel even worse.

The sea breeze blew in, carrying salt and coolness. Her hair was tousled and clung to her wet face. She ignored it, simply shrinking herself smaller, as if that would make her disappear from the world.

I don't know how much time had passed when I heard footsteps behind me.

It wasn't the kind of hurried footsteps that chased after her; it was slow and steady, like a leisurely stroll. The footsteps rustled on the sand, growing closer and closer before stopping behind her.

She didn't turn around.

The person didn't say anything.