Chapter 6: Disciplinary Committee(2).

A chilly breeze passed between Dakota and me.

Dakota narrowed her deep purple, double-lidless eyes, arms crossed, staring at me.

“We need a witness interview before the disciplinary committee. I’d appreciate your cooperation.”

Witness interview.

She was treating me as a witness. It seemed reasonable, and she appeared focused on her duties.

But after what Lager said, every little thing she did caught my attention.

Like how she kept tapping her arm with her fingers since earlier. Or how she was constantly biting her makeup-free, pale pink lips.

She seemed faintly anxious.

“How about we meet at the café around 4 p.m. after work hours?”
“Work hours?”

The sudden military term threw me off. Work hours and a café? Those words didn’t mesh.

And which café? There are tons of them.

Seeing my puzzled expression and lack of response, Dakota looked at me curiously.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t know there’s a café on campus?”
“I mean, it’s possible… And there are cafés outside too.”
“I’d rather not use an outing pass for a simple witness interview.”

I hadn’t done anything wrong, yet I felt oddly interrogated, my voice shrinking.

Come to think of it, her mention of “work hours” and needing a pass to leave campus felt like being in the military.

Having unintentionally become a military-veteran pretty girl, I felt thoroughly pissed off, like I’d reenlisted.

Dakota cleared her throat and glanced behind me.

Lager, who had walked ahead, was coming back.

“Anyway, let’s meet then.”

Dakota left with that, turning away.

Lager, arriving late, stared at her retreating figure before cautiously asking me.

“What’d she say? What’s up?”
“Just that she needs time for the disciplinary committee investigation.”
“She’s not just dragging this out for no reason, right?”
“Dunno. Didn’t seem like it.”
“Hmm.”

Lager pursed his lips skeptically and shook his head.

“Nah, I’ve got a bad feeling.”

Big guy, big worries.

I mentally scoffed but said nothing.

*

After afternoon classes—or “work hours,” as Dakota put it—I met her at the campus café at 4 p.m.

She sat down without ordering a drink and got straight to it.

“Miss Chloe, what’s your relationship with Godin? Are you dating him rationally?”
“What does that even mean…?”
“Are you two going out?”

I’d overlooked one thing.

Lager Godin, now a pretty boy, was a girl until yesterday.

His concern wasn’t just baseless anxiety.

A woman’s intuition.

I don’t know how he sensed it, but Lager had eerily picked up on her “jealousy.”

A few strands of her neatly tied light purple hair fell to her cheek. She said, “Excuse me for a moment,” bit a hair tie, and calmly began retying her hair.

Her exposed white neckline and the faint purple strands left behind were strikingly alluring.

She’s beautiful.

Her refined, poised demeanor carried an unconscious sensuality that could make any man’s heart flutter.

This is what a “main heroine” looks like.

“Your silence suggests I’m right.”

Lost in her doll-like beauty, I missed my chance to respond. I shook my head vigorously, denying it.

“No, no way! What’re you talking about!”
“If it’s not that, why was he in your room?”
“It’s complicated…”
“He broke down the door, so it must’ve been urgent. In such a situation, the first person you thought of was Godin, wasn’t it?”

Dakota pulled her chair closer, her eyes sharp like a predator chasing prey.

I don’t know why I’m the prey here, but I needed to defend myself.

“You said this was a witness interview, but it feels like an interrogation.”
“A misunderstanding. I’m just trying to understand the situation better.”

Sure. Her attitude, closing in like she was tightening a net, was unsettling and annoying.

I don’t know why I’m humoring her in a world where monsters could pop up anytime, but I didn’t want to make enemies either.

I wanted to resolve this smoothly.

Then, a burly man in an apron strode over and spoke in a deep voice.

“Hey, students.”

I looked up at the hulking figure, puzzled.

“You must be freshmen. One menu item per person.”
“Oh… right.”
“This is a popular spot, you know.”

…The café manager. His PT trainer vibe threw me off.

Dakota stood and bowed politely.

“My apologies for the oversight.”
“Order one drink each, and you’ll leave here alive.”
“Then I’ll have a hot Americano. …What about you, Miss Chloe? My treat since I set this up.”

Obviously, you’re paying. I scanned the cute menu the giant handed me.

“Strawberry yogurt smoothie, largest size. With whipped cream and two cookies.”

I picked the priciest item.

“No refunds, so no regrets.”

The manager, pleased with the expensive order, set a buzzer on the table and headed to the kitchen, his massive traps flexing.

Seeing Dakota’s eyebrows twitch and her lips purse, I smirked with subtle satisfaction.

“You said to order what I wanted. Too expensive?”
“No, it’s fine.”

She sighed lightly, her face showing she’d been had, and sat down.

“It’s the least popular item here.”
“…What?”
“The whipped cream isn’t well-maintained. The cookies are store-bought.”
“Oh, uh…”
“And the strawberries are frozen.”
“Why didn’t you say that earlier!”

Her shrug and averted gaze met my aggrieved expression.

“You seemed to want it. And if it’s a bad experience, better on someone else’s dime. So I let it be.”

…I’m the one who got played.

When the buzzer rang, she grabbed it and stood.

“Wait here.”

The thought of facing an overpriced store-bought mess was depressing.

Still, for someone jealous, she was quite polite. Despite being in a potentially uncomfortable position as the heroine who likes Lager, her adherence to manners was impressive.

Maybe she’s someone I can reason with.

What to do next?

A hypothesis hit me. To test it, I quickly opened my phone.

Perfect. I nodded.

Right on cue, Dakota returned, her low heels clicking, carrying two drinks.

“Here. The priciest strawberry yogurt smoothie.”
“…Thanks.”
“Largest size, whipped cream, two cookies. Exactly as ordered.”
“Very generous of you.”

As she said, the whipped cream was already collapsing, and the cookies were soggy.

Guess her warning wasn’t just petty revenge for my expensive order.

I took a long sip and stirred the whipped cream into the drink.

Thankfully, for frozen strawberries, the smoothie tasted decent. It’s a smoothie—fresh or frozen, does it matter?

“Shall we continue our earlier talk?”

Dakota, holding her Americano mug with both hands, sipped slowly, her sharp eyes shifting back to interrogation mode.

But while you were gone, I prepared a countermeasure.

“Miss Kail, this might sound like an excuse.”
“You can use casual speech.”
“No, I’m more comfortable this way.”
“Fair enough. …Go on.”

Since we’re the same age, casual speech wouldn’t be an issue, but her persistent formality made me uneasy about dropping it.

I took another sip, stirred the straw, and mumbled.

“Lager and I are childhood friends.”
“Childhood friends?”
“We grew up in the same neighborhood, known each other forever.”
“…That’s close.”

Her hand, setting down the mug and touching the handle, tensed slightly.

Just as planned.

Here, I chose my path.

“And honestly, he’s my only friend!”

Loner confession.

Her pupils wavered briefly. Her tightly pursed lips seemed to silently ask, “What’s your game?”

“…For real?”

I showed her my phone’s contact list, proudly declaring my lack of friends. She took it, skeptically scanning the contacts and call logs.

I’d checked beforehand.

I worried there might be other contacts or logs, but surprisingly, only Lager’s number was saved.

I briefly felt guilty thinking of Rina, the black-haired girl recovering from her severed ankle somewhere.

But there must be a reason her number wasn’t in my phone.

Anyway.

Time to escape this crisis.

“It’s true.”

Seeing pity in Dakota’s eyes as she returned my phone, I silently cheered.

Now the rest is easy.

“Right. And since we’re here, I have a request.”
“A request?”

Dakota blinked her deep-lashed, single-lidded eyes, tilting her head.

It’s bound to be an appealing offer.

Lager won’t like it.

“Get close to Lager.”