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Chapter 6 - Breakfast Tastes Like Lies

> I got home and collapsed straight onto my bed.

No strength left — not for food, not for thinking.

In my dreams, I saw cars. Big, shiny, expensive.

Beachside villas, black cards with no limit…

God, I want all that. Someday…

As usual, I skipped breakfast.

And as usual — arrived at school starving.

Chiori was already sitting at my desk.

— Morning, — I muttered, not exactly cheerful.

— Morning. — She looked at me closely, almost like she was studying me. — What did you dream about?

> What?..

Weird question. Way too specific.

She's way too observant…

— Uh… nothing special. Fancy cars, big houses… y'know, luxury stuff.

— Got it. Go on, sit down.

I dropped into my seat.

First class of the day — homeroom. The perfect time to just zone out… or sneak in a nap.

— Fio, did you eat breakfast? — she asked suddenly.

— Uh… yeah, I did.

She narrowed her eyes.

— Liar. Don't even try to dodge it. We'll eat after class.

> She reads me like an open book.

It's kind of scary.

— Alright, everyone, take your seats! — the teacher walked in, and the room fell silent.

> Guess I could nap a bit…

Wait, no. I should ask her something.

— Hey Chiori, how's your money situation right now?

I mean, a million yen won't last six years…

— Oh, right… I got a job two years ago. As a fitness trainer. I used to train when I was a kid, so I figured — why waste it?

— Makes sense. What about now? It's mid-month… Still got some left?

— Why do you ask? — a hint of suspicion slipped into her voice.

— …Yeah. I've got some.

— Just wondering. I'm kinda short at the moment… Do you maybe have 100,000 yen?

— …I do. Do you need it now?

— A week from now is fine. Thanks — really, that helps a lot.

— It's nothing...

> But something in her voice cracked a little.

Like it actually was something.

She's close to the edge. I can feel it.

Later… I'll pay her back. With more.

— That's it, class dismissed! You're free until the next period.

— Finally! — Chiori let out a sigh of relief. — Time for lunch.

— Yeah, agreed.

— Here! — She handed me a lunchbox with a soft smile.

— Thanks…

> She made this herself?..

It tastes… amazing.

> Strange.

How can someone like her — after everything she's been through — still have this much warmth?

Why… did she come back into my life?

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