The corridors of Hagun Academy were bustling with students heading to class when Haruto Amakawa strolled in with his usual relaxed stride, hands tucked into his pockets. His expression carried that effortless charm—half a smirk, half amusement—as if he found the world both predictable and entertaining.
If Satanichia is here, then Vignette can't be far behind, he mused, recalling the purple-haired demon girl with her angelic disposition. Another transfer student, perhaps. It wouldn't surprise him anymore.
Just as he turned the corner toward his classroom, a wobbly figure stumbled into him from the side. The collision barely registered before the girl pitched forward, face-first toward the ground.
"Ugh...!"
She was as light as a breeze, practically floating toward the floor until Haruto caught her by the shoulder in one smooth motion.
Looking at her face, he couldn't help but smile. He already knew who she was.
Long, silky black hair cascaded past her shoulders, held in place by a simple white headband. Her face was pale but exquisitely delicate, framed by a few loose strands. Most telling of all, her legs were sheathed in those unmistakable black stockings that had become her signature.
Kasumigaoka Utaha.
With Kato Megumi already enrolled here, it made perfect sense for Utaha to be here too. But she didn't look well. Her dark circles under her eyes spoke volumes—she had been running on empty.
"Are you alright?" Haruto asked, his voice calm and gently concerned as he patted her shoulder. "Do you want to go to the nurse's office?"
Utaha groaned softly, clutching her temple.
She had pushed herself past exhaustion, writing late into the night after an unexpected rush of inspiration. Now, her body was revolting. The sharp stabbing pain in her head made her legs tremble, and the world tilted before her.
Haruto sighed but didn't hesitate. Without waiting for an answer, he slung her over his back. She was heavier than she looked—her long legs wrapped in soft black stockings brushing against him—but he didn't dwell on it. He tightened his grip and strode toward the nurse's office with purposeful steps.
---
A short while later…
The nurse's office was quiet, a faint scent of antiseptic and lavender lingering in the air. Utaha stirred, her fingers automatically reaching for the cold compress placed gently on her forehead. Her eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, she seemed confused by the sterile surroundings.
"This is... the nurse's office?" she murmured, her head pounding with dull aches.
"Finally awake," Haruto's voice broke the silence.
Startled, Utaha's eyes shot open. Instinctively, she grabbed the edge of the blanket as if to shield herself from an attacker.
"Who are you?" she demanded, narrowing her eyes at the stranger hovering near her bedside.
Haruto chuckled softly, his eyes warm but playful. "I'm Haruto Amakawa, Class 3-3," he replied. "Before we continue, would you mind letting go of my hand?"
He held out his right hand casually, smiling as if this was the most natural thing in the world.
"...??"
Utaha's eyes darted to his hand. Why was she clutching it so tightly? Embarrassment flooded her cheeks as realization dawned on her. She let go immediately, and the coolness vanished.
Haruto leaned forward, lowering his voice with a tone that was gentle but matter-of-fact. "You bumped into me earlier in the hallway and nearly collapsed. I brought you here. The nurse said you're dangerously sleep-deprived—fainting is the least of it. It's a miracle you didn't pass out completely."
Utaha's eyes widened in shock. She had never felt this terrible before. Not even during marathon writing sessions.
"And you also have a fever," Haruto added, glancing at the thermometer reading displayed beside the bed. "You wouldn't let go of my hand, so the nurse asked me to stay and watch over you."
He pulled out his phone, flipping it to show a timer.
"You've been asleep for three hours straight. I have a test in the next class, so I'll head off. If you need anything, ask the nurse."
As he stood, he took one last glance at her dark circles and shook his head with a soft sigh.
"I've been there before. Don't push yourself like this—you're far too beautiful to let exhaustion consume you."
It wasn't a flirtation; it was an oddly sincere warning from a guy who'd been through his own hardships.
With that, he turned and walked out without waiting for her reply.
---
Later that day
Utaha lay still for a moment, processing everything. Then, quietly, she whispered to herself, "Haruto... thank you."
She stared at her left hand, where the faint chill of his touch still lingered.
---
Back in class, Haruto returned just as it was about to start. Kato Megumi sat near the window, head slightly tilted with curiosity etched on her face.
"Haruto-kun, where've you been all morning? You're only just getting back," she asked, her tone light but probing.
"Nothing much," he replied casually. "Just helped a classmate who almost fainted from exhaustion get to the nurse's office."
As he spoke, his eyes narrowed at something approaching from across the room—a student walking toward Megumi without paying attention. Without hesitation, Haruto reached out and grabbed Megumi's wrist, pulling her safely to the side.
"That kind of absentmindedness can be pretty inconvenient," he commented with a teasing smirk.
Megumi's eyes flicked to their joined hands but she kept silent. After all, it wasn't like she could claim any superpowers.
"It's not a superpower," she murmured coolly. "Sometimes it's more of a nuisance than a blessing."
Haruto's smirk widened. "Speaking of powers... I might have a way to help you with that."
Megumi arched an eyebrow.
"A trade, perhaps?" she asked, her expression calm, composed, and inscrutable.
Caught off guard, Haruto's lips parted but no words came out. That calm gaze pierced him like a blade—he suddenly felt like she could see right through his mischievous intentions.
"It looks like class is about to start," Megumi added. "Could you please let go of my hand now?"
Realizing he was still holding it, Haruto flushed and quickly released her.
"Oh! Sorry."
But before he could retreat, Megumi leaned in close to his ear, her breath warm against his skin.
"Haruto-kun... do you find holding my hand comfortable?"
Before he could answer, she straightened and walked back to her seat without looking back.
Haruto froze.
With her back turned, Megumi's lips curved into the faintest smile, one that suggested amusement and something far deeper.
Haruto's eyes narrowed as he watched her. His usual playful confidence wavered.
"…?"
He touched his lips thoughtfully.
The flirtatious bait had just been thrown at him by Megumi—and she had done it without hesitation.
He could almost feel his brain analyzing it like a strategy game.
Hm… both Mai and Megumi's hands are soft... but each has its own charm.
A grin crept across his face.
Once I win Megumi over, I'll have to compare the two more thoroughly.