"Talking this long does dry out your throat," Hayashi Shuichi said honestly, his voice hoarse in the cramped, sealed space.
"Wait!" The blonde beauty's voice lit up with sudden realization. "When I left the village, I bought a bottle of water. I only took a couple sips—it's in here somewhere…"
She fumbled in the dark, her hands searching.
After a moment, she found the bottle.
Sharon Vineyard twisted off the cap, taking a sip herself. The cool water slid down her throat, offering a fleeting moment of relief.
Then, she carefully guided the bottle to Hayashi Shuichi's lips, trying to help him drink.
But with Hayashi Shuichi pinned above her, the collapsed car roof trapping him in place, his body couldn't move an inch.
Though Sharon managed to get the bottle to his mouth, the awkward angle made drinking nearly impossible.
Hayashi Shuichi tried, but most of the water spilled down his chin, wasted.
"Forget it, I'm fine. I can hold out. Save the water for yourself," he said.
He was parched but not dying. Water was precious in their situation—better not to waste it.
Hayashi Shuichi gave up, but when Sharon's fingers brushed his cracked lips, a pang of sympathy hit her.
This boy had risked his life to save her, and now he was thinking of her first, leaving the water for her…
Despite being older, she felt like the one being cared for.
Sharon's emotions churned, the unfamiliar sensation of being looked after stirring something she hadn't felt in years.
After a pause, she spoke with unshakable resolve. "Wait. I've got a way to get you some water."
Before Hayashi Shuichi could ask, he heard the sound of Sharon taking a sip below him.
Puzzled, he felt her shift downward until their faces were level. Then, with her cheeks puffed out, holding water, the blonde leaned in.
Their lips met, and Hayashi Shuichi realized her plan: she was feeding him mouth-to-mouth.
His eyes widened, heart racing as he instinctively swallowed the sweet water.
"Still thirsty, kid?" Sharon's voice carried a teasing lilt in the dark, tinged with warmth.
"Big sis's method wasn't bad, right?"
"…Not thirsty anymore," Hayashi Shuichi said, still reeling from the sensation. Then, almost impulsively, he added, "Might get thirsty again later, though."
"Oh, really?" Sharon hooked her arms around his neck, her lips brushing his ear as she murmured with a playful smirk, "There's half a bottle left. Just say the word, and big sis will feed you…"
Her voice was low, seductive, her warm breath tickling his ear, sending his pulse into overdrive.
This woman's a damn siren…
Hayashi Shuichi swallowed hard, feeling a certain part of him stir again. He shifted, trying to calm himself.
"Trying to escape?" Noticing his movement, Sharon deliberately pressed closer, a mischievous grin on her face.
"Can you not mess around?" Hayashi Shuichi surrendered, his voice laced with helplessness and embarrassment.
"Haha…" Sharon's triumphant laugh echoed in the cramped car, cutting through the oppressive darkness and tension.
…
At the same time, back in the village, when Yabuuchi Hiromi broke the news that the silver Ferrari Hayashi Shuichi was in might be buried under a landslide, Fujimine Yukiko's face went ashen. Her bright eyes filled with fear and panic.
She collapsed to the ground, legs giving out.
"No… no way. Shuichi can't…"
Muttering, tears streamed down her pale cheeks, dripping onto the ground.
"Yukiko, we don't know the full situation yet," Hiromi said, hugging her friend tightly, her voice heavy with concern. "Hayashi-kun might be fine."
"…Right. Shuichi has to be okay!"
Yukiko struggled to her feet, her eyes flashing with determination.
Wiping the tears from her face, her trembling voice carried an unshakable resolve. "Hiromi, take me there! I'm going to the landslide. Even if I have to dig with my bare hands, I'll get Shuichi out."
…
Half an hour later, half the village had been hired by the film crew to head to the landslide site.
The crew's urgency wasn't for Hayashi Shuichi—they were focused on Sharon Vineyard.
She was a renowned American actress, invited by the crew. If anything happened to her, not just the production but the Japanese government would have trouble explaining it to the U.S.
If it had just been Hayashi Shuichi buried, the crew likely wouldn't have batted an eye—he wasn't their concern.
Rescue would've depended on the government, and with their sluggish pace, Hayashi Shuichi might've rotted before they dug him out.
To save the American star, the crew not only hired a slew of villagers but brought along the village's old excavator.
The ancient machine rumbled with a grating "putt-putt," its noise jarring in the tense atmosphere.
Spurred by hefty pay, men and women, young and old, worked with fierce determination, clearing away the collapsed earth and stone.
Sweat and dirt streaked their faces, their hands tirelessly wielding tools to move debris.
Among them, Fujimine Yukiko stood out.
Her eyes red, she worked with unwavering focus, forgoing gloves as she dug into the collapsed hillside, clearing stones with bare hands.
Her nails filled with dirt, her hands bloodied by sharp rocks.
"It's okay… he's okay…"
Yukiko muttered to herself, digging mechanically, as if oblivious to the pain.
Hiromi and Fukuda tried to stop her several times, but she wouldn't listen. Rolling up their sleeves, they joined her in the effort.
With everyone's relentless work, the mound of debris was steadily cleared…
(Chapter End)
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