"Changing the subject…" Mary seed to have thought of sothing and looked at Russell. "You bought a newspaper this morning, right?"
"Yeah." Russell avoided a direct answer and replied casually. "Why?"
"Which newspaper did you buy?" The girl blinked, her eyelashes fluttering in the light, gazing at him curiously. "The Tis or The Guardian?"
Russell's expression froze for a split second. At that mont he felt an inexplicable drumbeat and background music echoing in his mind.
Calm down, Russell Watson. Stay calm.
"Of course I bought both." He spoke in a steady tone. "Besides, newspapers aren't that expensive. Buying one extra is like helping the other delivery boys. What's wrong with that?"
"I see. Russell is truly a kind-hearted person." Mary nodded, drawing out her words.
Is it over? No. It wasn't.
A certain intuition quietly resonated at the back of Russell's neck—this wasn't over yet.
"Not just kind…" Just then Mary's voice sounded again, faintly probing.
The mont the words left her mouth, that eerie drumbeat and BGM started playing in his head once more.
I knew it!
Russell's mind filled with chaotic thoughts. He coughed twice lightly. "Look, since I'm already receiving money from both The Tis and The Guardian, I have to support them a little, right? Think of it as a small favor."
"Hmm… that sounds plausible." The girl still showed no clear attitude.
"So this breakfast was just a spur-of-the-mont idea? Because you had to make breakfast for Charlotte, you used the leftovers to make your own share too?"
At that mont Russell's breath seed to stop. What should I say? What's the correct answer? 42?
After his thoughts spun like a centrifuge, Russell took a deep breath and gave his final answer. "I'll make it for you later when I have ti."
"Understood." The girl bead. "Then it's decided!"
The instant those words were spoken, the heavy, tense atmosphere vanished. The aningless BGM in his head stopped.
Looking at the girl's bright blue eyes curved into joyful crescents, Russell felt as though he had just survived a thrilling bomb-disposal mission. He quietly exhaled in relief; a faint cold sweat had appeared on his forehead.
"But," Mary's voice rang out again, "I still want to know the exact ti."
"Huh?"
"You just said you're free now," Mary said, counting on her fingers like a ticulous accountant. "That's too vague. What if you're always busy?"
"It's impossible to be too busy. I promise," Russell said, slightly troubled. "As long as I have ti, I'll definitely bring it to you."
"No," the girl shook her head, her high silver ponytail swaying slightly. "You know," her voice suddenly softened, almost pleading, "saying you're free is like waiting for a train without a titable at the platform. You might have to wait a very long ti—so long that the flowers on the platform wither, moss grows between the stones, and the train still feels impossibly far away."
The girl leaned forward slightly. Soft morning light from the window perfectly illuminated her profile, giving her silver hair and long lashes a faint golden glow.
"But if you say, 'I'll co every Thursday at 4 p.m.,' then it's a completely different story." Mary whispered near Russell's ear, lowering her voice. "So from the mont you wake up Monday morning, Thursday is no longer an ordinary day. When you pass the bakery on Tuesday you think, 'Only two more days.' Wednesday's western sunset is so beautiful, and you're already wondering how you'll eat the breakfast I made for you tomorrow. At that point, the waiting itself becos part of the enjoynt."
Mary raised her eyes and looked straight at Russell. Her words flowed gently into the quiet classroom like a soft poem.
"If you co every Thursday, I can start preparing from Wednesday—that makes very happy. As the ti approaches I grow happier and happier. When Thursday finally arrives I beco restless, listening to every footstep in the hallway. But if you co whenever you feel like it, I never know when to prepare my heart."
She paused, her voice soft as snow crystals, fading quietly. "Rituals are very important."
"They can make one day different from all others, one mont different from all others. That's why we need the exact ti, all right?"
Hearing Mary's words, Russell was montarily stunned. He looked at the girl before him. In the morning light her blue eyes were exceptionally clear, filled with seriousness and expectation—like a lake reflecting the sky, pure, without a single trace of impurity.
"Got it," he finally compromised. "Every Thursday, then."
Mary laughed. "Then every Thursday."
A smile like spring sunlight spread across her lips and reached her eyes, illuminating the azure lake. She said nothing more, simply smiled—and that alone was more beautiful than countless magnificent views.
At the perfect mont the school bell rang, breaking the brief silence. The professor, lesson plan in hand, walked slowly toward the podium as usual, gaze sweeping the back rows. "Good morning, everyone."
He cleared his throat and began today's class.
…
In the afternoon the bell rang again, signaling the end of lessons. Russell yawned, lifted his head from the desk, and looked at the person packing up beside him. Light and shadow flowed between her moving fingers.
"It's all right." Mary finished packing her last belongings, stood up, and smiled at Russell. "Let's go."
"Mm." Russell nodded, stood, and casually stuffed his notebook full of morning notes into his bag.
The sunset's afterglow once again turned the corridor into a warm golden river. They crossed the courtyard chatting casually and soon reached the school gate.
"Well then," Mary paused, "see you tomorrow." The girl blinked. "You rember the promise, right?"
"Don't worry—I rember everything." Russell smiled.
They parted at the crossroads. Mary looked back once more at his figure bathed in the sunset glow, then turned with satisfaction and walked toward the family carriage.
The mont the carriage door closed she leaned deeply into the seat and gently touched her lips. The smile was still there.
Thursday.
She stared out at the cityscape, lost in thought. From this mont on, every day would be a bright journey leading toward Thursday.
…
…
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