In the sterile quiet of Hoshikawa High's Health Room, Sakura Miyajima twirled her ponytail with a delicate hand, her movements as graceful as a cherry blossom swaying in the breeze. The awkward silence that threatened to engulf the room was swiftly dispelled as she composed herself, acting as if the earlier embarrassing moment had vanished like a fleeting dream.
Then, with the care of a seasoned kendo captain, she squatted down, rummaging through a cabinet while saying, "If it's heatstroke, our infirmary has special imported medicine, you know. You'll feel much better after drinking it…"
"Where's the Health Teacher?" Hayato Kirisaki asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.
The Health Room was empty, save for him and Sakura, the air heavy with the faint scent of disinfectant.
"She seems to have gone out for something," Sakura said with a light laugh, her tone as bright as a spring afternoon. "Kirisaki-kun, you don't have to worry. When the Kendo Club used to train, people got heatstroke all the time. I know what to do."
"As expected of the club president… So reliable," Hayato said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips, his admiration laced with just a hint of teasing.
"There's still a lot of room for improvement," Sakura replied with a modest smile, her humility as disarming as her kendo strikes. She stood, smoothing her skirt with a practiced motion, and handed Hayato a small, test-tube-like vial of medicine. "See, this is the special imported medicine."
Hayato glanced at it. Huoxiang Zhengqi Ye. Definitely imported.
He showed no signs of heatstroke, but the stuff was harmless—aside from tasting like a bitter betrayal of his taste buds. So, Hayato inserted the small straw and started sipping, his expression barely masking his distaste.
Hayato Kirisaki lay on a hospital-like bed in the Hoshikawa High Health Room, the sterile white sheets draped over neighboring beds creating a clinical yet oddly cozy atmosphere. Beside him, Sakura Miyajima perched on a chair, her presence as gentle and attentive as a nurse in a shoujo manga.
"Kirisaki-kun, did you overtrain? Why did you suddenly faint?" Sakura asked, her faint purple eyes brimming with worry and concern. She tilted her head slightly, explaining, "Oh… our class had self-study, and I went to the committee to do some things. When I came back, I happened to see you lose consciousness on the playground… Are you alright?"
The concern in her gaze was so earnest it could melt a heart of stone.
She's faking it… Hayato thought, but saying that out loud? Unthinkable.
"I'm not feeling too well," he said instead, his voice carrying a practiced hint of fragility.
"Although Kirisaki-kun is very hardworking, you should also pay attention to your health," Sakura advised, her tone soft yet firm.
After speaking, she subconsciously touched her lips with her slender fingers, as if scolding herself to hush. Am I getting too involved? she wondered. In kendo, she was a master, but compared to Kirisaki-kun, she felt like a novice apprentice. Who was she to question his training plan?
"Got it~~~" Hayato replied leisurely, his drawn-out tone almost playful.
Sakura giggled foolishly, charmed by his response. Kirisaki-kun sounds like a scolded little brother… Kind of cute, actually. Her body began to sway unconsciously, a subtle rhythm to her movements.
To be honest, while Hayato had escaped Dong Gang's torment this time, his physical stamina was indeed a glaring weakness. Maybe I should exercise a bit? he mused, sipping the bitter Huoxiang Zhengqi Ye.
He didn't fully grasp his current situation. With a sword in hand, he could dominate like a shonen protagonist, cutting down foes in all directions. But without it? Even Anshi Takamura could probably take on two of him. Not exactly scientific… But then again, nothing about his situation was. A system? Transmigration? Stabbing a thug five or six meters away with a single sword strike? Science can take a hike.
Sakura watched him quietly, her smile soft and wordless, her bangs clinging wetly to her fair forehead, a faint flush on her cheeks. Hayato recalled the distance from the playground to the infirmary—not exactly a short sprint. Sakura had carried him, a lanky burden of over a hundred jin, at top speed. As the Kendo Club's ace, she was formidable, but such a workout had clearly taken its toll. She just didn't admit it.
"Thank you for your hard work, and thank you…" Hayato said, his voice sincere.
Sakura was flattered, waving her hands. "No, no, Kirisaki-kun, you're too polite…"
Her eyes curved like crescent moons, her joy as radiant as a spring sunrise.
The two chatted lightly until the bell from the teaching building rang, signaling the end of class. Yet, the infirmary teacher was still nowhere to be seen. Hayato couldn't help but smirk inwardly. I came here to slack off, but the teacher's out-slacking me. That's next-level dedication.
"Kirisaki-kun, do you need to go back to class?" Sakura asked, her voice tinged with concern. "Shall I help you? If you can't walk, I can carry you over."
Go to class even if I can't walk? What kind of academic zeal is that? Hayato thought, stifling a laugh. He didn't have that level of devotion to studying. "No need… I still feel a bit tired. I'll rest here for a while," he said, waving a hand dismissively.
"That's too bad…" Sakura looked troubled, her brow furrowing. "My next class is Japanese literature, so I can't stay here to take care of you…"
"No, no," Hayato said quickly. Her leaving was perfect—he'd be more at ease alone.
"I'll ask the teacher for leave," Sakura said with a bright smile. "I believe the teacher will grant it."
"…On what grounds?" Hayato asked, raising an eyebrow.
"To take care of Kirisaki-kun…" Sakura laughed, then paused, realizing the ambiguity. She corrected herself, "To take care of… a junior? Or to take care of a younger brother?"
Her expression grew increasingly puzzled, and Hayato raised his wrist, signaling her to slow down. Even if this senpai was adorably naive, she had to sense something was off. Her distress deepened. "It seems none of them can convince the teacher…"
"Right?" Hayato said, barely hiding his amusement.
"But if no one takes care of Kirisaki-kun…"
Hayato couldn't fathom why this senpai was so worried. He was slacking off, not paralyzed. What, does she think I need help aiming when I pee? Geez.
Before Sakura could finish, a voice cut through the air. "Kirisaki-kun! Are you alright?"
The cry arrived before its owner. Ryoka Siyuan burst into the infirmary, her skirt fluttering like a battle flag. She called Hayato's name, then skidded to a halt, her speed so dramatic it left imaginary brake marks behind her shoes.
With a flick of her dark ponytail, Ryoka's gaze landed on Hayato.
"…Really, truly energetic," Hayato muttered, startled. Is this the power of the Karate Club captain?
Ryoka's eyes flicked from Hayato to Sakura, who sat by the bed, then back to Hayato. She snapped to attention, her face flushing—whether from embarrassment or the sprint-induced blood rush, who could tell?
"Mi-Miyajima-senpai," she stammered.
"Hello, Siyuan, we meet again," Sakura said, nodding her fair chin with a gentle smile.
Ryoka turned to Hayato, still lying on the bed. "Am I… am I coming at a bad time?"
Sakura's smile widened, and she beckoned Ryoka closer. "No, you've come at just the right time," she said.
--+--
T/N: While I am an inexperienced Translator, I have a Patreon! While it may seem empty as of now, webnovel will get 2 Chapters Every Day, and advanced chapters will be uploaded on Patreon.
It may not seem worth it now, but maybe in the future. Who knows!
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