Horikita Suzune shot him a glare, her voice dropping several degrees colder.
"I take it back—you're nothing like my brother. He wouldn't be so easily tempted."
Shimizu's lips twitched at her clearly misinterpreted expression, torn between amusement and exasperation.
*"Hold on. Whatever you're imagining, it's definitely not that kind of 'temptation.'"
At most, it was just a lap pillow—hardly "tempting."
He kept that last thought to himself.
"But you're right. I really can't compare to your brother." His tone shifted, turning earnest. "The student council president's capabilities, character, and sense of responsibility are impeccable. I genuinely respect him."
This much was sincere—Horikita Manabu's composed reliability was truly admirable.
Horikita's expression softened slightly. Her fingers paused over her textbook as another thought struck her.
"Earlier, Kushida-san mentioned you reported a shop to the student council? You went to see my brother?"
"Didn't need to." Shimizu shook his head. "I actually have his contact info. We're friends on the school app—I just messaged him directly."
He lifted his phone slightly, as if offering proof.
Horikita's gaze flickered to the screen—then froze.
The chat log between Shimizu and her brother stretched endlessly upward, far more messages than she'd ever exchanged with him.
"You... text this much?" Her voice betrayed her disbelief.
"Huh? Is this a lot?" Shimizu blinked, glancing at his phone. "It's just two or three messages a day. Mostly complaining about school policies, sometimes sharing interesting campus stuff."
He made it sound mundane, as if such casual exchanges were perfectly normal.
Horikita stared at the sheer volume of messages, a pang of envy striking her.
Even she rarely got to chat with her brother about daily life.
"By the way, after I left that day, did you two talk properly?" Shimizu asked curiously.
"...No." The word slipped through gritted teeth after a long pause.
Since their awkward encounter outside the dorms—witnessed by Shimizu, no less—their interactions had been limited to a single message: her asking about Matsushita Chiaki's relationship with her brother.
Meeting in person? Unthinkable.
Mostly because she couldn't bear the shame.
Here she was, still stuck in Class D, while her brother stood at the school's pinnacle as student council president.
If they were seen together, gossip was the least of her concerns—tarnishing his reputation was what truly terrified her.
"Don't tell me you sent him more of those 'Brother, behold my Class D progress' or 'I'm not the same as before' or 'I'll reach Class A with unwavering resolve' cringe lines?" Shimizu narrowed his eyes, mimicking what he imagined her tone would be.
"I did not! Current me would never say such things!" Horikita's glare could've melted steel, her ears burning crimson—what kind of idiot did he take her for?
Her fists clenched, her foot twitching with the urge to kick him.
If not for their classroom setting, her textbook might've already collided with his face.
At the start of the term, she might've harbored some "I'll prove myself to Brother" delusions, but after over a month, she was no longer the type to flaunt hollow determination!
Then—
Her thoughts screeched to a halt.
Wait. That line Shimizu just mocked—"I'm not the same as before"—was eerily similar to what she'd literally just thought.
"Shut up." The words hissed out like steam from a kettle, frost coating each syllable.
She genuinely couldn't stand speaking to him right now.
Somehow, he always pinpointed her thoughts with infuriating accuracy, leaving her seething yet defenseless—it was unbearable.
She turned away, feigning absorption in her textbook, refusing to spare even a glance at his smug "I knew it" face.
"Alright, alright, I'll stop teasing." Seeing her nearing her limit, Shimizu reined in his amusement. "How about this? Tomorrow's Friday. After school, I'm meeting the president. Want to come along?"
Horikita's pen stilled. She looked at him, suspicion etched in her eyes. "...?"
"I do have actual business with him." Shimizu adopted a more serious tone. "Plus, your brother seems troubled lately. As his sister, aren't you curious? Consider it helping me out—his presence alone carries weight."
Her fingers absently traced the ridges of her pen. After a long silence, she muttered, "...Fine."
Noon arrived swiftly.
Shimizu had just finished lunch when his phone buzzed—a class group notification. Kushida Kikyō had abruptly summoned everyone back to the classroom.
By the time he returned, most students were already seated, murmuring theories about the sudden assembly. The stragglers hurried in moments later, filling the remaining seats.
Then, the door slid open.
Two girls stood at the threshold.
"Good afternoon, Class D~!" The girl in a beret spoke first, pressing a hand to her hat as she bowed with playful courtesy.
Her purple-haired companion ignored the theatrics, scanning the room with disinterest—until her gaze landed on a familiar figure. Her eyebrow lifted almost imperceptibly.
The classroom's chatter dimmed, curiosity turning toward the strangers.
"Apologies for the belated introduction! I'm Sakayanagi Arisu from Class A, and this is Kamuro Masumi. I currently serve as A's provisional leader." A light laugh followed.
"Class A?!"
"Why are they here?!"
"Who are you looking for?"
Whispers erupted instantly. Yamauchi Haruki craned his neck, eyes darting between the two visitors before muttering, "Damn, they're both cute—especially the beret girl. Those deer-like eyes... too bad she's a cripple."
Kushida stepped onto the podium, addressing the class. "Sorry for interrupting your break. Sakayanagi-san contacted me yesterday—she has an important announcement for Class D."