Chapter 19 The Sacrifice

Chapter 19 The Sacrifice
Matthew Lynes didn't know how to describe the sound she was making.
In his twenty-something years of life, he had never paid attention to the sound of someone breathing. At most, he had noticed the heavy, exhausted gasps of his teammates on the basketball court, which just sounded loud and annoying. As for girls... he had absolutely zero frame of reference.
This was his first time.
But because he hadn't fully explained his reasoning, Ruth was completely lost. She blinked at him. "...You don't want anyone else to hear what?"
Hear what? Who was saying anything? Can you please be a little more specific?
When she asked, Matthew let out a soft, quiet laugh.
The lighting beneath the bleachers was dim. They were standing near a massive ventilation shaft directly beneath the main podium, which gave their voices a slight, hollow echo.
His low laugh seemed to ride that echo, sliding directly into her ear and wrapping around her brain.
"Nothing," he murmured.
Clearly, he had no intention of explaining himself.
Matthew really knew how to pick a spot. They were standing in a secluded, entirely private pocket of space, completely isolated from the massive crowd just a few dozen feet away.
Since the atmosphere was suddenly perfectly suited for a heart-to-heart, Ruth decided to ask a question she had been curious about for a while.
"Classmate Lynes. Let me ask you something."
"Hmm?"
Ruth had just finished sprinting, and her heart was still hammering violently against her ribs. She had panted so hard earlier that her chest actually ached.
She was used to this feeling. Back in high school, every time she was forced to run the 800-meter test, she ended up exactly like this—suffering from severe post-sprint trauma. (Even though a few hundred meters was probably barely a warm-up stroll for someone like Matthew).
But just thinking about the question she was about to ask... her symptoms suddenly felt a lot worse.
"Have you..." Ruth nervously rubbed her fingertips together. "...ever been in a relationship?"
Matthew, who had been leaning lazily against the concrete wall, suddenly paused.
He answered almost instantly. "No."
He rarely let girls get close to him. Even though he had been swarmed by admirers since middle school—girls confessing publicly, girls dropping subtle hints, girls trying every trick in the book—Matthew hadn't just avoided relationships; he hadn't even entertained a casual flirtation.
Ruth stopped rubbing her fingers. Even though she had just received the exact answer she wanted, she couldn't quite believe it. "Really? Never?"
Matthew had noticed that whether he was in the States or abroad, whenever his friends asked him this question, they always reacted with the exact same shock as Ruth.
He remembered back in high school, an incredibly outgoing, popular girl had aggressively pursued him for months. His rejection had remained absolute and entirely unmoved. His friends had been completely baffled. They told him: 'Master Lynes, if you don't even like the literal prom queen, what the hell are you looking for? A fairy?'
Matthew had just smiled and thought: Yeah. I am actually looking for a fairy.
Because he had always been the untouchable "boss" of his friend group, he rarely talked about his feelings. Saying something like, 'I fell for a girl years ago and you idiots don't know shit' wasn't exactly the kind of thing a cold, ruthless lone wolf shared with his bros.
Because of his silence, his friends eventually concluded that he must have suffered some horrific childhood trauma that permanently destroyed his ability to love.
Even Henry's joke in the group chat earlier today stemmed from the same place. They knew his sexuality was fine, but the fact that a guy looking like that refused to date anyone was highly suspicious.
But honestly, there was no complex, dramatic reason for him staying single.
It was just because he was too young when it happened... and he had already given his heart away.
Matthew pushed himself off the wall, taking two slow steps forward until he was standing directly in front of her. "Yeah. Really never."
Because of you.
Ruth couldn't exactly call him a liar. Based on his personality, Matthew didn't seem like the type of guy to lie about his romantic history. If he had a string of ex-girlfriends, he probably would have just admitted it.
But that left her with one massive, glaring question: If you've never dated anyone, how the hell are you so insanely good at flirting?!
Does he just have natural talent?
Or am I just incredibly easy to flirt with?!
Whatever the reason, hearing the answer directly from his mouth made her inexplicably happy.
She had sprinted across the field first thing in the morning, her legs were basically jelly, and she had been standing under the bleachers for way too long. Ruth blew out a heavy breath. "Ugh... I'm so exhausted. I'm going to squat down for a second..." She looked down at her shoes. "Make sure you watch the time so you don't miss your race."
She started to drop into a crouch.
Before she even made it halfway down, a strong hand clamped securely around her upper arm, physically hauling her back up to her feet.
Ruth looked up in shock, crashing straight into Matthew's gaze.
"You shouldn't squat immediately after running."
His tone was completely flat, sounding exactly like a PE teacher giving a strictly educational lecture without a single trace of emotion.
It would have been highly convincing—if, in the very next second, he hadn't used his grip on her arm to push her backward, pressing her flat against the concrete wall.
Maintaining his hold on her, Matthew continued, "If you feel uncomfortable now, squatting will only make it worse. If you don't want to walk, just stand like this for a bit."
Ruth blinked, completely speechless as she accepted his "education."
Outside the bleachers, the loudspeakers were currently blasting an aggressively upbeat, incredibly generic sports march. It was the exact kind of music that completely ruined any sort of romantic atmosphere.
And yet.
Ruth felt like she had just been struck by lightning.
People always say that when you like someone, your brain secretes dopamine. But neurologically speaking, dopamine is usually associated with the intense honeymoon phase. During the initial stages of attraction and infatuation, the chemical your brain actually floods with is phenylethylamine (PEA).
Right now, Ruth was absolutely certain that her hypothalamus was violently pumping out PEA at an exponential rate. The sheer volume of it completely short-circuited her brain.
Because.
The way he just effortlessly picked her up and pressed her against the wall?
It was so aggressively dominant.
It was so hot.
Suddenly, even his dry, educational lecture sounded incredibly sexy.
Her heart rate, which had finally started to slow down after her sprint, immediately spiked right back to its previous, violent speed.
Ruth couldn't even describe what she was feeling. She didn't say a word, and neither did Matthew. They just stared at each other. He didn't let go of her arm, and his gaze slowly tracked across her face, looking incredibly amused.
The silence stretched out, thick and heavy.
Until a loud voice suddenly echoed from the tunnel entrance.
"Holy shit!"
It sounded exactly like a balloon popping in a quiet room. Ruth violently jumped.
The guy at the entrance was still swearing. "What the hell? Who's back here?! God, you guys scared the shit out of me..."
It looked like two school employees were carrying some athletic equipment into the storage area. As they hauled a heavy box past the shadows, one of them aggressively complained, "Seriously, look around! Is this the kind of place you come to make out?!"
The two men grumbled as they walked deeper into the tunnel. "Kids these days, I swear... absolutely shameless..."
The two "kids" in question: "............"
After an incredibly charged wall-pin that wasn't quite a wall-pin, followed immediately by getting publicly shamed by two random janitors, the atmosphere officially shattered into a million pieces of sheer awkwardness.
Thankfully, the loudspeakers outside began announcing the final call for the Men's 100-Meter Sprint preliminaries. By unspoken, mutual agreement, the two of them silently walked out of the danger zone.

It was time for the 100-meter dash.
Aside from Matthew, Jerry had also signed up for this event. Since Jerry's heat was scheduled first, he was currently standing on the track, aggressively shaking out his wrists and ankles while the sports rep hovered over him, rambling nervously.
Jerry had drawn the innermost Lane 1. Ruth and Matthew walked over to the grass near the starting block, getting a front-row seat to the rep's frantic coaching.
The rep sounded exactly like an overly anxious mother. "No, no, that's not right! You have to twist your hips more! Watch me, watch me! And your feet! Don't forget your feet!"
The two of them started doing synchronized, highly bizarre stretches. The rep continued, "Jerry, my boy! Whatever happens, do not get nervous! We all know your skill level, so don't feel any pressure! Don't even look at the guys next to you, just keep your head down and run!"
The rep pointed at Lane 2. "That guy is a literal PE major." He pointed at Lane 3. "That guy is his brother."
The rep summarized the situation flawlessly. "Can you beat them? Absolutely not. So my advice is to just close your eyes and charge forward! You can do it, Jerry!"
Jerry gave him a firm, determined salute. "Understood, Commander! I guarantee I will complete the mission!"
Ruth: "........."
She honestly hadn't realized how stressful it was to be the class sports rep. The sheer level of dedication this guy had to managing his athletes... if the school wasn't paying him a salary, it was a literal crime.
The two brothers in the adjacent lanes started laughing. "Bro, are you sending your kid off to take the SATs? It's just a preliminary race, why are you so stressed?"
"Sigh," the rep waved a hand dramatically. "You guys wouldn't understand. A parent always worries about their own child, okay?"
Ruth couldn't hold it in anymore and burst out laughing. She glanced sideways and saw Matthew watching the chaotic scene with half-lidded eyes, clearly in a fantastic mood.
The warm-ups finished, and the runners took their marks.
Jerry's face was a mask of pure, unyielding determination. As the starting gun fired, he shot off the blocks like an arrow leaving a bowstrap.
Or rather... maybe "a pebble falling out of a slingshot" was a more accurate description.
Watching his tragic speed, Ruth looked at the rep in complete disbelief. "I genuinely thought Jerry and the others were actually athletic... otherwise, why were you so incredibly happy when they signed up?"
"Tom is actually a beast at field events, and Helen is great in the women's bracket. They can definitely place..." The rep let out a long, heavy sigh. "But Jerry... Jerry doesn't actually have any talents. He's just aggressively enthusiastic and completely blinded by overconfidence."
Ruth: "..." Are you sure YOU weren't the one who gave him that confidence?
The 100-meter dash was over in seconds. Seeing the results, the rep immediately sprinted toward the finish line to comfort his tragic child.
There was zero chance Jerry was making the finals. Ruth turned her head. "Which heat are you?"
Matthew glanced at her. Moving with deliberate, agonizing slowness, he reached up and unzipped his jacket.
Underneath the track jacket, he was wearing a simple, fitted white T-shirt. The collar was perfectly cut, exposing the sharp hollow of his collarbones, which practically gleamed in the morning sun.
Ruth's brain short-circuited for a second. She forcefully dragged her eyes up to his face.
"I'm in the next heat," Matthew said. He didn't take the jacket off quickly, but every movement was impossibly fluid and attractive. Once it was off, he handed it directly to her. "Hold this for me. Don't give it to anyone else."
Ruth took the jacket, hugging it to her chest. Her nose was instantly flooded with that crisp, clean scent she had smelled earlier.
Having successfully consoled Jerry, the sports rep jogged back, sweating profusely. The second his eyes landed on Matthew, he looked absolutely horrified. "Holy shit! Mat!"
Ruth: "..." What now?
The rep sprinted up to Matthew, frantically looking him up and down. His face was twisted in pure agony. "Mat! Your shirt is too loose! A baggy T-shirt creates too much wind resistance! You can't run in this! You need a compression shirt! I thought you brought one, why didn't you tell me you didn't have one?!"
While the rep continued to panic about aerodynamics, Matthew completely deadpanned, cutting him off. "Who exactly are you saying can't run?"
The rep instantly felt like he had just stepped on a landmine.
"Whether I can run or not," Matthew said, his arrogant, lazy aura returning in full force, "You'll find out in about ten seconds."
The rep immediately muted himself.
Matthew's lane was on the far side of the track. Since Ruth couldn't exactly follow him like a lost puppy—and the rules didn't allow non-athletes on the track anyway—she stood on the sidelines, clutching his jacket.
She was entirely surrounded by a massive crowd of boys and girls, all of whom had apparently showed up specifically to watch Matthew. By the time he lined up, she actually had to stand on her tiptoes just to see him.
A few minutes later, the starting gun cracked.
For the first time in her life, Ruth violently cursed her 5'5" height. She slapped the sports rep on the shoulder, jumping up and down. "I can't see anything! Rep! What place is Matthew in?!"
The rep didn't answer immediately. A few agonizing seconds passed. Then, he violently whipped his head around. "HOLY FUCK! FIRST PLACE!"
He started cackling like a maniac. "Hahahahaha! GOD TIER! MAT IS A LITERAL GOD! There is zero chance our class comes in last this year! I never have to get mocked by the Student Council ever again! Hahaha! MAT IS A GOD!"
Still screaming, the rep sprinted toward the finish line like a madman.
Ruth shook her head, smiling, and took her time walking over to meet him.
Matthew's remaining events—the 200-meter preliminaries and the 800-meter finals—were scheduled for the afternoon. When Ruth finally found him, she offered her formal congratulations. "By the way, didn't you say you didn't sleep well last night?"
Matthew had just finished drinking water. His lips were damp, and the few drops of sweat clinging to his forehead looked incredibly sexy.
He raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"
"If you're tired, do you want to go back to the dorms and take a nap?" Ruth analyzed the situation logically. "You have to run a combined thousand meters this afternoon. What if your lack of sleep affects your performance...?"
"...Why are you so worried about that?" Matthew stared at her for a long moment, his eyes slightly thoughtful. Then, he suddenly smiled, a wicked, brilliant flash of teeth. "Didn't I already tell you? My stamina is very good."
He dragged out the last few syllables with agonizing, deliberate slowness.
Ruth felt an inexplicable, violent wave of shame wash over her. "..."
She aggressively shoved his perfectly smelling jacket into his chest, spun on her heel, and walked away.
There was absolutely no reason to emphasize the words 'stamina' and 'very good' like that!
And why did he intentionally drop his voice?!
It's not that my mind is in the gutter, it's just... he was absolutely making it sound dirty!
Since Matthew didn't have any more races that morning, Ruth left him with his jacket and headed toward the academic buildings to use the restroom, planning to find Helen afterward to cheer her on.
Most of the student body was either at the stadium, sleeping in the dorms, or out in the city. The academic building was completely deserted. Ruth didn't run into a single person on her way in. She pushed open the door to the first-floor women's restroom.
She had barely taken two steps inside when a female voice echoed through the empty tiled room.
"Um... excuse me?"
The voice came from the very last stall.
Ruth stopped dead in her tracks.
Fuck... thank god it's daytime. If it was night, I would have thought this was a literal ghost movie.
But the voice sounded familiar. And actually quite pretty.
"...Is someone out there?" the voice asked again, tentatively.
Ruth immediately recognized it.
It was Cher Boyd, the girl from the basketball game. The supposedly ostracized member of Jenna Keen's Iron Four.
Ruth thought for a second, then replied, "Yeah. What's wrong?"
"Ah... I just realized the toilet paper dispenser in here is empty, and the janitor hasn't refilled it. Could you do me a huge favor and pass me some from the main dispenser outside...?"
Because the building was empty, the cleaning staff probably hadn't done their morning rounds yet.
Honestly, Ruth didn't have any direct beef with Cher. Back when they were teenagers, whenever Jenna Keen tried to bully Ruth, the other two lapdogs would eagerly join in. Cher had always been the only one who stayed completely silent.
Jenna had actually gotten mad at Cher for not participating.
Ruth vividly remembered Cher telling Jenna: 'If I don't have a problem with someone, I don't attack them.'
That one sentence had actually left a pretty good impression on Ruth. She figured making friends was just a matter of personal preference. Just because Cher happened to be friends with an absolute idiot like Jenna didn't necessarily mean Cher was an idiot herself. So, Ruth didn't hold any real grudge against her.
There was a massive roll of paper towels near the sinks. Ruth walked over, unrolled a generous amount, bunched it up, and slid it under the stall door. "Here you go."
"Thank you so much!" Cher replied immediately. Ruth turned and walked into her own stall.
As she washed her hands a few minutes later, Ruth's mind wandered back to the past.
Jenna's two lapdogs came from significantly lower-tier families. They desperately needed to kiss Jenna's ass to leech off the Keen family's social connections and secure business deals for their parents. But the Boyd family absolutely did not need to do that.
In Veridian City, the Boyd family didn't just outrank the Keen family by a few streets; they outranked them by entire zip codes. Ruth even knew that the Boyd family held massive shares in several of Sylvan Enterprises' biggest VR projects. Mr. Boyd and her grandfather, Jamie Buckley, frequently played chess together (and constantly argued over taking back moves).
So why was a perfectly normal girl like Cher hanging out with a brain-dead moron like Jenna? What did she actually get out of it?
While Ruth was lost in thought, the lock on the last stall clicked open.
Cher walked out and immediately saw the girl standing at the sinks.
Ruth was dressed casually today in dark, fitted jeans that highlighted her long, straight legs, and classic white sneakers. Her long hair cascaded loosely down her back, and the soft white sweater she wore made her look incredibly gentle and elegant. She was standing slightly angled, her entire profile reflected perfectly in the mirror.
Cher had always known that Ruth Keen was breathtakingly beautiful.
She remembered back in high school—when they all attended the elite South City Private Academy while Ruth was exiled to the public school in the North District—Jenna Keen used to spend hours obsessively scrolling through the public school's forum, looking for any excuse to hate her.
Ruth's school forum was constantly flooded with posts about which popular guy had just gotten rejected by her, or which handsome senior had hit a brick wall trying to ask her out. The girls in the comments were always either intensely jealous or completely in awe, and the guys would literally write public love letters to her.
Every time Jenna read those posts, she would furiously scream about how "shameless" Ruth was.
But honestly? Cher completely understood why those guys were obsessed.
Even looking at her purely from the perspective of a stranger, Cher had to admit it: Ruth Keen's face was the absolute, undisputed, textbook definition of "first love beauty."
They made eye contact in the mirror for a few seconds. Cher spoke first. "Thank you... for earlier."
A brief flash of surprise crossed Ruth's face.
Then, her eyes curved into a brilliant, genuinely lovely smile. "Oh, no problem."
They acted exactly like two strangers who had just met in a college bathroom. There was no trace of the awkward, toxic history between their families, and no mention of Jenna Keen.
Cher didn't know what else to say. Seeing Ruth's smile—which was so incredibly vibrant and charming—she just nodded.
"But it's not always going to be this lucky," Ruth added playfully. "Make sure you check for toilet paper next time."

Since this was the first (and probably only) time Ruth had ever properly participated in a university sports festival, if she had to name the absolute highlight of the event, it would undoubtedly be the anonymous shout-outs read over the stadium loudspeakers.
The broadcasting station read submissions all day long. At first, they were completely normal. They started with things like, "The autumn breeze brings a refreshing chill," and ended with, "Friendship first, competition second! You can do it, Classmate X!"
But as the day went on, the submissions grew increasingly unhinged. Announcers started reading things like, "The autumn breeze is refreshing, but the blazing sun is a cruel mistress. Our athletes are being baptized by the torrential storms of pain..."
Ruth had a strong feeling they hadn't hit rock bottom yet. There was definitely worse to come.
Sure enough, after Matthew effortlessly took first place in the 800-meter dash that afternoon, the broadcasting station was flooded with anonymous love letters dedicated to him.
By the time the announcer reached the third submission, disaster struck.
"...Congratulations to Mat from Junior Finance 101 for taking the gold! Let's all shout our class motto together! Mat doesn't need a knife to kill, his waist alone destroys my—"
The announcer completely froze. Clearly realizing they had just walked into a massive trap, they let out an incredibly confused, highly amplified: "Huh?!"
Ruth completely lost her mind laughing.
She wasn't the only one. Practically every single girl in the stadium who had favorited the forum's poetry thread simultaneously burst into hysterical laughter.
Over the loudspeakers, the entire campus could hear the announcer aggressively whispering, "Who the hell approved this script?! You can't let this go to air!"
A few seconds later, the announcer cleared their throat and spoke into the mic with forced professionalism. "Attention all students. Please refrain from including excessive personal emotions in your submissions. And please... do not use the broadcast system to confess your thirst... seriously, guys..."
Over the two-day event, Ruth fully realized just how athletically crippled the Finance class actually was. Because of this, Matthew—the absolute anomaly who descended from the heavens and scored a massive 40 points for their class—was universally worshipped by the students and teachers. Calling him a god was an understatement.
He had taken first place in all three of his individual track events, and he anchored the Men's 4x100 Relay. When he received the baton, the Finance team was in dead last. He then proceeded to put on an absolute masterclass in carrying, blasting past three runners to steal first place. The Finance students in the bleachers screamed so hard they nearly lost their voices.
Not to mention the fact that he had already achieved legendary status on the basketball court.
In just one week, the name "Mat" was permanently engraved in the history books of Finance 101.
Over the last two days, Matthew had spent all of his downtime sitting next to Ruth in the stands. People constantly came up to talk to him. While the girls were still too intimidated to approach him directly, the guys had no such reservations, asking him completely random questions. Ruth sat there and listened as Matthew patiently, flawlessly lied to every single one of them.
"Ah, it's nothing special. My high school PE teacher back in my small town trained me..."
"Yeah, he said I had the potential to be a professional athlete. When I told him I was just going to take the normal college entrance exams, he was super disappointed."
"Oh, the basketball? That was a different PE teacher. One taught me to run, the other taught me to shoot."
"Yeah, I was ranked first in my town. In both academics and sports."
He answered every question with a warm, humble smile, looking exactly like a proud, hardworking kid from the countryside.
Ruth was absolutely in awe. "..."
If I ever get the chance, I am absolutely visiting his hometown to see what kind of magical, radioactive water produces a lying, flawless monster like him.
Because Matthew had single-handedly saved the class's honor, the sports rep insisted he deserved a massive reward.
But when the rep offered him a choice between "500 bucks in cash," "a commemorative photo album," or "a free dinner at Haidilao Hotpot," Matthew fell completely silent.
A full minute passed. Matthew looked at the rep. "Can I reject all of those and just pick my own reward?"
For the first time in three years, the rep was actually proud to be a Finance major. He was willing to give the MVP literally anything he wanted. He waved his hand grandly. "Absolutely! Name your price!"
So, at the very end of the event, just before the closing ceremony officially dismissed the students, the sports rep grabbed a megaphone to make the announcement.
"Listen up, guys!" The rep's voice trembled with emotion. "Back when we were always dead last, whoever managed to score the most points was our hero, and we always gave them a prize. But this year... our hero's contribution is too massive. So, the reward is going to be a little different..."
The rep awkwardly trailed off, turning to look at Matthew, gesturing for him to take over.
"Yeah. The rep said that as the MVP of the class..." Matthew's voice was slow, incredibly relaxed, and carried that distinct, impossibly arrogant drawl. "...I get to pick one classmate to accompany me for a whole day."
?
The entire class internally screamed: ...Holy shit, how is that a reward?! That sounds like a dream date!
Ruth had been perfectly happy just a second ago, mentally preparing to ask Matthew if he wanted to go grab some Harvarti-Boba. But hearing those words, and looking at his devastatingly handsome face, a sudden, terrifying chill shot down her spine.
Realizing exactly what was about to happen, she desperately tried to make eye contact with him, aggressively blinking a silent warning: DO NOT DRAG ME INTO THIS.
Her message was entirely rejected.
After dropping the bomb, Matthew glanced at the rep. The rep nervously cleared his throat and stammered, "Uh... yeah... that's exactly what I said."
The classmates who had already connected the dots started whistling and cheering. Matthew's smile deepened. He reached out, grabbed Ruth by the shoulder, and effortlessly pulled her out of the crowd, presenting her like an imperial decree.
"Then I pick this classmate."
The entire class erupted into deafening applause and obnoxious catcalls. Everyone was looking at them with a highly knowing, 'we knew you two were secretly dating' expression.
Ruth: "..."
What exactly are you guys realizing?! I am the one having a total mental breakdown right now!
Amidst the absolute chaos and roaring cheers of their classmates, Matthew suddenly leaned down, tilting his head until his lips were hovering right next to her ear.
His warm breath brushed against her skin, sending a violent shiver down her spine.
Using the exact same words she had used to lecture him yesterday morning, he flawlessly threw them right back in her face.
"Classmate Keen, don't hesitate," Matthew whispered, his voice impossibly soft, emphasizing every single syllable. "You need to have team spirit."
"When the time comes to contribute to the collective... you have to be brave, and sacrifice yourself."