Kobayashi Rindou sat slouched on the wooden bench just outside the kendo hall, her body drenched in sweat, her breathing ragged and uneven.
She wore a dark blue kendogi and a white hakama, the traditional uniform for kendo practice, her usually immaculate hair tied back messily with strands sticking to her damp forehead.
Both of her palms were raw and blistered, the skin torn and bleeding from overexertion.
She had been practicing relentlessly for hours, each swing of the shinai sharper and heavier than the last, her mind filled with one single, burning image—Kageyama Seijirou's infuriatingly smug face smirking down at her as if she were beneath him.
It was stupid, she knew.
She was the Student Council President, the symbol of discipline and authority in this school, the one who was supposed to embody composure and dignity.
Yet every time she thought of that man, her chest tightened with frustration.
No matter how many times she tried to corner him, his existence slipped through her fingers, untouchable, untamed.
Every day she swore to herself that one day she would crush him, humiliate him, and strip away that arrogance he wore like armor.
That was why she pushed herself like this, ignoring pain, ignoring blood, swinging until her body nearly collapsed.
But today her hands had given out before her spirit did. Both palms had torn, and even gripping the shinai had become impossible.
She sat there stubbornly, trying to convince herself that she could still continue, when a soft, worried voice interrupted her.
That was when Tadano Taro had appeared, a plain-looking underclassman with black hair, glasses, and a face so unremarkable that most people never remembered him even after speaking to him.
Yet, while everyone else would have walked past the intimidating figure of Kobayashi Rindou without daring to approach, he hadn't hesitated.
He had rushed forward, pulled a small first-aid kit from his bag—who even carried one of those?—and without asking for permission, knelt before her and began carefully bandaging her bloody hands.
Now, as his fingers worked gently, Rindou found herself watching him with her sharp blue eyes, analyzing him in silence.
Compared to Kageyama, Tadano was nothing. Plain face, no aura, no reputation, nothing that stood out.
A complete nobody.
And yet… he was kind. Simple, honest, straightforward kindness.
He didn't leer at her, didn't mock her for overdoing it, didn't fear her sharp gaze. He just helped. That was more than she could ever say for Kageyama.
Compared to Tadano, Kageyama Seijirou was handsome beyond reason, athletic enough to dominate any sport, brilliant enough to score perfect marks, backed by a family rich and influential enough to bend the school to his will...what the heck?
Isn't she just praising him now!?
Well, now that she thought about, isn't Kageyama like the perfect alpha male you can ever find?
He dominated in every category that mattered, he was flawless, the kind of man girls whispered about, admired from afar, the sort of ideal that should have made him the school's number one heartthrob.
And yet, instead of standing tall as the shining prince he was supposed to be, he had chosen the path of filth.
A delinquent, a tyrant, a corrupter who spread his poison to everyone around him.
Rindou clenched her teeth. The thought alone made her want to punch something.
He had everything and wasted it, and that was why she couldn't forgive him.
"It's done," Tadano's voice pulled her from her thoughts.
He leaned back slightly, putting away the gauze and tape, and looked up at her with a small, satisfied smile, his hands surprisingly steady for someone who had just finished tending to the wounds of the most feared girl in school.
"Oh," Rindou muttered, blinking at the fresh bandages neatly wrapped around her palms.
For a moment she was caught off guard, then she let out a soft breath and forced a smile. "Thank you, Tadano-kun. You really are kind."
Her words seemed to startle him more than he expected. He quickly rubbed the back of his head, his cheeks pinkening ever so slightly, a sheepish grin spreading across his plain face.
"I-it's nothing, President. Really."
He stood up abruptly with a small exclamation, as if remembering something important. "Ah! I should get going. Class will start soon. You should probably head to the nurse's office just in case—it's better to get those checked properly."
And with that, he gave her a small nod and hurried off down the hallway, his footsteps quick and light, his figure shrinking in the distance.
Rindou remained seated, her eyes following his back until he disappeared from view.
Slowly, she lowered her gaze to her bandaged hands, flexing her fingers slightly.
The bandages were snug, but they held the wounds firmly, easing the pain enough that she could clench her fists without blood seeping out again.
"…Heh." She let out a small, wry laugh to herself, shaking her head. "Plain as they come, but at least he's kindhearted and not an arrogant bastard."
Her chest loosened slightly. The sharp irritation that usually lingered after practice seemed dulled, soothed by the unexpected kindness of someone so ordinary.
Still, she sighed heavily, her eyes narrowing.
Missing class because of injuries would be irresponsible, something the Student Council President could never afford.
She had a role to uphold.
With that in mind, she stood up from the bench, dusted off her hakama, and muttered to herself as she adjusted the bandages.
"Guess I'll see the nurse… can't let something stupid like this slow me down."
*
*
*
Rindou walked down the polished hallway, her steps steady, her long hair swaying lightly with each movement.
The sound of her shoes echoed faintly, and as always, the other students she passed immediately straightened their backs, bowing their heads in respect, their voices carrying polite greetings of "Good afternoon, President Kobayashi."
She responded to each of them with a nod or a soft word, her expression calm and dignified, the kind of presence that demanded respect without needing to ask for it.
A few sharp-eyed students noticed her hands, wrapped in fresh bandages. Some of them, emboldened by admiration or curiosity, asked about her injuries in quiet, respectful tones.
Rindou replied with the same rehearsed line each time, a small wry smile on her lips, "I pushed myself too hard in training."
Her voice carried neither pride nor regret, only a sense of inevitability.
She was Kobayashi Rindou, the student council president, the ace of the kendo club, the role model of the academy.
Of course she trained harder than anyone else, of course she pushed her limits. Anything less would be unworthy of her position.
Yet even as she spoke so casually, there was a tightness in her chest.
All throughout her walk, she could not shake off the unsettling feeling pressing at the back of her neck.
A gaze. No, not just one. Several.
She could feel them following her, trailing behind her like shadows, thick and heavy with something she did not want to name.
Admiration she was used to, envy she could endure, even resentment was nothing new.
But these eyes were different. They were not filled with respect or rivalry. They dripped with malice. They stripped her down, inch by inch, even as she walked with her head held high.
Her sharp blue eyes flicked around, but whenever she turned her head, all she saw were normal students pretending to go about their business, whispering, smiling, walking.
Nothing out of the ordinary.
Still, her instincts screamed otherwise. Her pride urged her to ignore it. She was Kobayashi Rindou. She would not let herself be unsettled by something so trivial as stares.
Straightening her back, she pushed forward, refusing to show weakness.
Finally, she reached the infirmary and slid open the door.
The familiar sterile scent of antiseptic filled her nose.
Behind the desk sat Shirohara Retsu, the school nurse, a striking woman who looked far younger than she should, her white hair tied neatly into a bun, a pair of glasses resting on the bridge of her nose.
Her crisp white coat gave her a professional air, but the faintly playful curve of her lips and the mischievous sharpness in her blue eyes always reminded people that she was not as cold as her appearance suggested.
At that moment, Retsu-sensei was leaning back in her chair, phone in hand, eyes narrowed in amusement at whatever conversation she was having.
But the instant the door slid open, she looked up, and recognition dawned on her face.
"Ah, President Kobayashi," she began with a polite tone, but her eyes quickly dropped to Rindou's hands.
The pristine white bandages stood out starkly against her kendo uniform, stained faintly with spots of red that had seeped through.
Retsu's expression shifted, amusement giving way to concern, her voice softening.
Rindou raised her hands slightly with a small, wry smile tugging at her lips, shaking her head as though embarrassed by her own recklessness.
"Shirohara-sensei, I need some help," she admitted, her voice calm, though beneath it there was a trace of weariness.
Retsu set her phone aside immediately, standing from her chair with graceful movements, her lab coat fluttering slightly as she stepped forward.
She adjusted her glasses with one hand, the other gesturing for Rindou to sit down on the bed.
"Come here. Let me take a look," she said firmly, her tone both kind and authoritative.
For the first time since walking down that hallway filled with suffocating gazes, Rindou allowed herself to exhale.
In this quiet space, with the steady hands of the school nurse reaching for hers, she could finally let go of her act, if only a little.