My High School Nerd Rival - Chapter 58

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 58
Her heart lurched into her throat. Ivy buried her face between her knees and held her breath.
“Sigh… left the light on again.”
A weary voice.
Who was it? The tension made it impossible to tell.
Footsteps moved slowly beyond the desk. The sound of a cabinet opening, papers rustling. Someone was looking for something.
Behind her back, she felt Cyrus’s breathing—slow and steady.
The problem was Ivy. The more she tried to calm herself, the harder her heart pounded, and her shallow breaths felt ready to spill out. She curled herself even smaller.
Then a steady hand pressed against her shoulder.
Her stiffened shoulders loosened at once, and she rolled herself against Cyrus’s chest, pulled by the gentle force.
She could feel his body heat across her entire back.
The breath she’d been holding finally released.
Through his school uniform shirt, she heard a heartbeat—his or hers, she couldn’t tell.
Click.
The cabinet closed.
The person rustled papers and began walking toward the door, apparently having found what they needed.
Ivy’s attention followed every footstep.
The door opened.
Almost over now.
With that thought, she began to relax—
Click.
The Broadcasting Room light went out.
Her vision vanished entirely. The person had flipped the switch.
Moments later came footsteps, and the door shut completely.
The soundproofing meant no outside noise reached them. Which meant they had to stay perfectly still in this deep darkness, waiting until enough time had passed for their pursuer to get far away.
Now only breathing remained.
Hers and his behind her. Two separate rhythms slowly synchronized, falling into the same cadence.
The silence stretched.
Ivy tried to pull away from him.
“Stay still.”
His hand tightened on her shoulder, pulling her back gently.
“Don’t start suffocating again.”
It was an argument she couldn’t win. Ivy found herself leaning back against him.
It’s odd, maybe… but there’s no choice.
“Do you think they’ve gone far by now?”
“No way to know. Can’t hear anything.”
Either way, it was best to wait long enough for them to leave the Gymnasium entirely before moving.
“…Where was I in the story?”
An unexpected question came from behind her.
“What?”
“You asked what happened to the person who was falsely accused.”
Ivy felt her patience slip.
Now? He wanted to continue that conversation now?
Yet strangely, her heartbeat slowed. Did Cyrus understand that having something to think about could calm the body?
“They’re probably living well somewhere.”
His voice vibrated low against her back.
“Went abroad, actually. Rich family’s child.”
“That’s the second place Thomas mentioned?”
“Yes.”
Cyrus confirmed tersely.
“The school knew. Knew who the real culprit was. But they kept quiet anyway. A scandal to a powerful family’s name costs more than one scholarship student’s silence.”
Perhaps because she was leaning against him,
Ivy could feel a certain heat emanating from him—the kind that rises from deep anger.
“And you… just let it happen?”
“I didn’t just let it happen. I became complicit. Knowing and staying silent is the same as participating.”
“That’s not participation.”
Her rebuttal rang out louder than expected. She quickly lowered her voice.
“…Knowing something and agreeing with it are different things.”
As she spoke, Ivy realized how strange this moment was—saying these things in this position.
Pitch-black darkness. Under a desk. Backs pressed together.
Anyone seeing this would definitely get the wrong idea. But it didn’t seem to matter right now.
Not anymore.
“Now it’s your turn.”
Cyrus spoke.
“What?”
“This incident—you have someone in mind?”
Ivy’s fingertips went cold. The warmth she’d felt moments ago drained away in an instant.
The person who’d approached Tiffany anonymously.
Every piece of evidence pointed to a single person. That name circled inside her mouth.
She couldn’t say it.
But then came a quiet whisper, tickling her ear.
“Fabian Montrose.”
“…!”
Ivy turned her head. Her forehead nearly touched his chin; in the darkness, her adjusted eyes caught the faint silhouette of his face.
“H-how did you…?”
As she stammered anxiously, instead of answering, he released his grip on her shoulder and gently took her wrist.
“It’s nothing. Calm down.”
Nothing, he said.
“I thought something was off since the Debate Tournament.”
“Fabian was?”
Ivy lifted her head, trying to meet his gaze.
Though he’d already turned away.
“No. What I thought was odd—”
“Was you. More specifically, your relationship with him.”
Relationship.
How much had Cyrus actually figured out?
She felt her pulse quicken against his hold on her wrist. He couldn’t have missed that.
‘What do I say?’
I need to make an excuse.
If he learns even a small truth, my identity will be exposed in no time.
Ivy prepared an excuse.
“I…”
But the moment she opened her mouth,
he turned his gaze back to her, and it silenced her completely.
She quickly turned away from him, curling herself up small, apart from him.
‘…Cyrus just told me the truth.’
The weight of truth presses equally on everyone.
Could she really answer him with a lie?
Ivy hugged her knees tightly.
‘And besides… would Quinton even believe my lie?’
He wouldn’t.
Just as she had never believed a single lie he’d told.
“…Yeah.”
Ivy chose honesty, barely.
“Your guess is right. The one who gave the File to Tiffany is my cousin, and…”
As she spoke, her throat went dry.
Was this really okay? Should she be saying this? Her body shrank smaller and smaller.
“My cousin doesn’t like me. Or rather, it’d be more accurate to say he hates me.”
“Why.”
Ivy squeezed her eyes shut.
“When he needed me most, I turned away.”
The look in Fabian’s eyes then was still vivid.
That deep wound.
And alongside it, fear washed over her again.
What if Cyrus asked more about that hatred between them?
She might have to lie after all. Even though it was the lie she always told, it hurt so much more now.
“So. When did he start following you?”
“…What?”
The question was different from what she’d expected.
“When did you start feeling threatened?”
He asked again. His tone was blunt, but there seemed to be concern underneath it.
Ivy found herself smiling faintly.
“Not long. At first he only sent anonymous messages. Then Tiffany did something annoying, and—”
“And?”
“I faced him directly at the Debate Tournament.”
Then a thought struck her.
“Maybe we shouldn’t have won.”
Then Fabian might have been satisfied with humiliating Ivy and left. Things might never have escalated like this.
Ivy let her shoulders slump, still hugging her knees.
“I can’t be sure.”
Perhaps moved by her dejected posture, his hand came up to her head.
His fingers parted her hair and gently stroked it.
“What matters is, he lost again.”
Which meant there would be a ‘next time,’ though neither of them needed to say it.
“And you’re still planning to swallow all this quietly on your own.”
“Th-that’s… I don’t have a choice.”
Exposing Fabian formally would tangle things in complicated ways.
Especially for those who’d fallen out of favor with the royal family, his existence was a tempting card they wouldn’t hesitate to play.
She didn’t want the Crown to be swept up by those sinister people again.
“I… have things I need to protect too.”
It was the same reason Cyrus had lied in his middle school years and kept his silence since.
“…Sometimes I’m annoyed that you’re so sharp.”
His hand stroking her hair grew a little rougher.
Rough enough to tangle it.
“It makes things complicated!”
“When weren’t they?”
Apparently satisfied he’d spent enough time, he pulled himself out from under the desk first.
Cyrus checked beyond the window, then extended his hand back under the desk.
“Come on.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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