Abby and Violet (Yuri Light Novel)

Her alarm rang and I turned away from our nest and stretched an arm to shut it off. Her hand followed mine and, after silence was restored, entangled its fingers with mine before retreating them back to under the covers, close to my chest as she pressed her body against mine, her face resting on my nape. Unexpectedly, she was reluctant to get out of bed, making it incredibly hard for me to do so for many reasons.

“Violet? Remember what I told you yesterday?”

She grumbled something incoherent that I somehow understood.

“Yeah, we need to go and show that old geezer we haven’t been slaking off in our studies. Come on now!”

“Don’t wanna,” she grumbled, this time being a bit easier to figure out her words.

“…Because I’m warm, soft, smell nice and am a delight to snuggle with?”

“…Yeah…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

Suddenly, she shot up and loomed over me, red-faced and wide-eyed.

“…W-wait!? What was the question!?”

“Pfft, ah-haha! Good morning, sleepy head.”

 I got out of bed and offered her a hand to drag her away from the cosiness we were together until then.

“It’s hard to get out of bed because I’m a nice smelling, soft, warm and great for hugging girl, right?”

“Urgh… why are you teasing me so hard as soon as we wake up?” she complained, using her hands to hide her face.

“Why? Because being with you always gets me in a good mood, silly.”

She uncovered her face, and I took the opportunity to put her glasses on.

“Now, let’s go! I want to make that old geezer eat his words with a sour face once he tells you to go to the blackboard.”

“What makes you so sure he will?”

“Believe me, he will.”

Before that, she’d have to face another some other hurdles hurdle.

“You know,” she started saying while stopping our march. “I never got the logic behind leaving the outside wall of the building while rebuilding the inside like a modern one. I get it that it’s supposed to preserve the historical façade, but—”

“Quit stalling,” I told her, giving her a small wank to prompt her to move again. “Remember how it was cold before, but isn’t now that each classroom has AC? Let’s get inside before you freeze on me.”

Once we got to class, the people that were already inside swarmed us. Since I walked behind because it was easier to make my way through the crowd with her serving as a path maker, I got stepped on my foot by her before she pulled me between her and them. What logic was there in using a peerie-leggie like me as a shield? None, but she needed all the buffer she could get between them and her.

I had the creeping feeling that her recent isolation from the world also didn’t help in dealing with her social anxiety too.

“Guys, guys, Calm down! You know Violet is skittish!” I called out, trying to curb some of their enthusiasm. “You even got her to step on my foot.”

“Ah! S-sorry,” she whimpered from behind me.

“What happened to your lip?” someone asked.

I looked at what was now an unfortunate familiar sight. That small gash she had on her lower left lip.

“…I got this while helping Abby some time ago.”

My jaw dropped. She said it like it was nothing to worry about while giving me one of her warmest smiles. Wasn’t she bothered by it?

This girl…

She was amazing, no doubt about it.

They pressed for more details, but when she gave them a cold stare that I found a bit nostalgic after the second time she deflected the subject, their curiosity died down.

“Everyone, let’s sit down before he arrives. I’ve got something nice for all to enjoy,” I told the group.

Some did as I asked right away, but most kept close to us, asking what it was. I just told them they’d have to wait but it involved making our teacher eat a healthy dose of humble pie.

Soon after, he came in. Already he was suspicious of something being afoot.

Squinting, he looked around the classroom, his gaze settling on Violet.

“Ah, miss Evergreen. Finally decided to show your face, it seems.”

“Y-yes. I came back this weekend.”

“Oh, you did? Must be nice, not giving a damn about obligations.”

I bit my tongue. How could someone so despicable be allowed to be a teacher?

“Have you at least tried to keep up with the subjects? Your friend there believes you have.”

“I did, yes.”

“Humph. We shall see.”

He took a wad of paper from his leather suitcase—which was as ancient as him, most likely made out of a dinosaur skin, and looked through the pages. When he found what he was looking for, he faced the board with a bit of chalk and paper in hand and began writing an equation. Just as I had predicted.

“If you did, then this should be easy, hmm?”

“…I… I think I can solve it.”

He clicked his tongue and gestured her to come closer. She took her calculator and did the small march of death.

We all watched her going through it. She was a bit shaky, but she wasn’t making any mistakes. I was solving it at the same time. Well, I was being a bit faster, but I did tell her to never rush, so her speed wasn’t an issue. Slow and steady wins the race, they say.

“I’m done.”

She said it so softly, I could only figure her words by reading her lips.

The man’s expression was a delicacy. We all were enjoying it and not making any attempts at hiding it.

“Is this a trick?” he snarled at me.

“It isn’t. She just worked really hard this past week.”

“Oh please, like a dumb girl like her could ever solve an equation from a higher grade!”

Should he even be admitting he was setting her up for failure? That only made him look even more of an idiot.

“I bet you found a way to cheat! You and your smartphones and gadgets!”

“No, like I said—”

“I don’t want to hear it! Your friend is a fool and you’re a spoiled rich kid! Of course you cheated! Do you take me for an idiot?”

“If you call Abby a “spoiled kid” without knowing anything about her, then yes. You’re a huge, dumb idiot.”

I was so focused on him, I hadn’t noticed her change in demeanour. She now stood completely straight and glaring with such anger in her eyes and aura, it was frightening. Everyone in class, and I do mean everyone, was holding their breath as they watched like statues the two of them. Even the old man seemed a bit hesitant on opening his mouth. I didn’t believe she’d get physical, but I also never would have imagined her slapping anyone until I saw her do exactly that to Marcus.

After a long stare down, he left the classroom, and she came back to her seat, all eyes on her.

She opened her mouth, but noticing the stares, she closed it and instead wrote down what she was about to say.

“Sorry. I lost my temper when he insulted you.”

Despite the dire situation, I couldn’t help but smile a bit. Just knowing she’d get that protective of me was making me all fuzzy on the inside.

I gave her a shoulder bump as I passed her a note saying I was sorry too and that it was also my fault for having had a stupid plan to begin with.

“He’d throw a tantrum anyway.”

True, he would.

At the end of the day, our parents were called to school, and we all met at the small waiting area close to the principal’s office.

“What happened?” my dad asked, looking none too pleased.

“It’s my fault, Mr. Will,” she said before I could offer any explanation. “He called Abby spoiled and I lost my temper… I’m sorry…”

“Hold on, ‘spoiled’? And you lost your temper?” her dad asked.

“…Yeah…”

Our parents exchanged a look before looking back at us. Somehow, they had understood the story was more complicated than that.

“It’s good that you stood up for your friend, but from here on out, try to avoid conflicts, ok?”

We nodded.

“Haah, let’s get this over with,” my dad grunted.

He knocked and we were invited in.

The principal, a middle-aged, balding man sat across a desk. There were some bookshelves, but they were covered with dossiers and other assortment of important paper storages. The deco was all function over appearance and charm. There wasn’t a hint of personality in our current surroundings.

He explained the teacher’s grievance to our parents. Stan stayed unmoving while my dad bobbed his head up and down, waiting for his chance to speak.

“Did he mention anything about calling my daughter “spoiled”, or is he so old and senile, he forgot?”

Violet and I fixated our gaze on him. He looked and sounded calm, but there was something in the quality of his voice that carried a “be very, very mindful of your choice of words” that I had never heard from him, even on the rare occasions he’d scold me.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You see, Violet called the man an idiot because apparently, he called my daughter ‘spoiled’. You don’t have a way to know—and I’m not going to share her current family life either, but that’s as far from the truth as it could possibly be. And before you ask or say something unnecessary, if Violet comes to you saying that the sky is green, then believe me, unlikely as it might sound, that the sky is indeed green. I’d go and ask about it to your teacher if I were you.”

I still wasn’t used to seeing my dad being so authoritative, but I guess he had never been allowed to show that side of him when mum was around.

“…Please, excuse me for a moment.”

Violet and I were a bit at a loss. Honestly, I had thought we’d be getting an earful first and be asked about what had happened later, but it seemed like we’d get it the other way around.

We passed the time with me relaying what had happened from our point of view since I was feeling scared about having disappointed dad and being very sorry for causing trouble to everyone.

“Abby, sweetie, it’s ok. I’m just tired from work, I’m not mad at you,” my dad reassured. “I know you hate causing trouble.”

“Well, trouble that isn’t teasing my daughter,” Stan chimed in to lighten the mood.

“D-dad!” Violet cried out. “Now’s not the time for jokes!”

“Still, you managed to solve an eleventh-grade math problem? Impressive,” my dad added.

“…I had a good teacher,” she said meekly, giving me a glance.

Our conversation continued in a relatively light tone until a few moments later, when the principal came back looking like he wanted to crawl into a hole.

“…After further questioning, he did admit he might have said some harsh things to them in the heat of the moment.”

“Might have,” Stan chuckled dryly.

“By what my daughter told me, it might be more of a recurring occurrence than anything.”

“Is that true, Miss Abigail?”

“Y-yeah…”

“Miss Violet?”

“…Yes… Ask anyone in class.”

The room got silent as the adults looked at each other until her dad asked if we could be sent our way.

Before we left, Violet grabbed my hand to stop me from going through the door.

“Would you like to join us for dinner tonight?” she asked my father.

He turned his head and offered her a polite smile.

“If I’m not intruding.”

“It’s fine by me,” her father interjected. “And if she’s asking, then it’s settled.”

◊◊◊

Abby was awfully quiet ever since we left the principal’s office. Frankly, it was very worrying for me how muted she was while standing by my side peeling and cutting potatoes. It simply wasn’t the same if she wasn’t glowing and pestering me. And I was also worrying about her cutting herself from not paying attention.

“I’m done. What’s next?”

I pondered if I should pressure her into opening up. Deciding I’d try just a bit, I placed a hand over one of hers.

“You’ve been very quiet.”

“I guess… are you worried? Why am I asking, of course you are.”

She bumped her hip on me before giving me a slightly impish smile.

“I’ll be back to normal once I stuff myself. Speaking of which, what are we even making?”

“Meat stew.”

“The meat stew?”

“Fufu, yup,” I giggled at her hungry face. “Your favourite, right?”

She nodded vigorously, her eyes shining with enthusiasm.

“I like all your food, but this one is the best.”

I didn’t like nor disliked cooking. That had always been my stance. It was only a task I had to do because I need nutrition and I didn’t have the money to get someone else to do it for me. However, seeing her always so gleeful about eating what I made was changing that.

“Hehe, meat stew. Gonna eat meat stew,” she sang while she took care of the next task I gave her. I think she picked a popular song and was singing her lyrics at the same rhythm, because, while familiar, I was sure it was the first time she ever sang that. Rather, that was the first time I heard her sing at all. I thought her child-like voice would be able to get anyone in a good mood for some reason. It most certainly was bring me out of a slump.

“Your turn!”

“Huh!? I’m singing too?”

“It’s not fair if I’m the only one embarrassing myself, isn’t it?”

She was embarrassed?

I leaned forward and peeked at her face. She had a bit of red around her cheeks. She also stuck out her tongue once she noticed me, grinning mischievously afterwards.

Embarrassed, and not knowing at all how to, I tried to sing. Fortunately, she was looking at her work instead of me, making it a bit easier.

“Hmm… could you try singing it like it was a lullaby?”

“Why?”

“I think it will be easier for you to sing something a bit slower. Your voice, I think, is also better suited for that. It’s not as high pitched as mine, and it has a soothing undertone.”

Was Abby musically trained? I wouldn’t be too surprised if she was. Her mother might have thought it would do her good to train her voice or something.

I interrupted the concert when she rested her head on my shoulder.

“You know, I wouldn’t mind hearing you lullabying me to sleep.”

“…Pfft, fufu. I’d have to change the lyrics, otherwise I’d just make you hungry.”

“Don’t make me sound like a glutton!” she huffed.

“But you kinda are.”

“Only because your food is yummy! Humph!”

“Pfft, fufu.”

She was pouting, but it was the good kind of pouting. You know, the type where the person is pretending to be annoyed at you.

“…Hey, Violet?” she called, sounding shy all of a sudden.

“Yes, Abby?”

“…Could you teach me how to cook?”

“Erm… why?”

“No reason,” she said, shrugging. “I just thought it be nice if I helped you cook when I’m here… And I could also cook for you too every now and then…”

This time, it was me bumping hips with her.

“Sure thing.”

“…Thanks…”

Eating something she cooked herself just for me… for some reason, I was feeling all fuzzy about that prospect.

I suppose that’s what dad felt when I first cooked for him.