Ryoka stood there, awkwardness level: MAX. She'd sprinted to the health room out of pure worry, only to find the elegant Miyajima-senpai already whispering sweet nothings to Kobayashi. Outsider, that's me…
"D-Did I come at a bad time?" she squeaked.
Sakura smiled like a perfect Yamato Nadeshiko, beckoning. "No, you're perfectly on time."
Ryoka's brain: ? But she obeyed, shuffling closer.
"What's your next class, Yotsume-san?"
"Uh… self-study…"
Sakura's smile bloomed. "Couldn't be better. I have Japanese—I can't stay…"
"So…?"
"Could you please take over caring for Kobayashi-kun?"
"YES!" Ryoka blurted, then realized how eager she sounded. Bad! She added hesitantly, "…I-If Miyajima-senpai is busy, I can handle it."
Sakura didn't notice the panic, already standing. Her gentle, watery eyes first lingered on bedridden Satoru. Satoru twitched his lips. What is this, my deathbed?
Then to Ryoka: "He's all yours."
"Got it." Ryoka nodded hard.
"Kobayashi-kun, rest well and listen to Yotsume-san," Sakura instructed.
Satoru surface-level: "Yes yes yes." The second Sakura left, he told Ryoka, "Yotsume, I'm fine. Go back to class…"
But Ryoka plopped into Sakura's former seat, stubborn. "R-Rest assured, Kobayashi-kun… I'll take perfect care of you. Won't lose to Miyajima-senpai!"
"It's not a competition—"
Satoru's bed was corner-most; left was wall, right was a window. Sunlight streamed in. No wonder the weather's clear—y'all scared the rain away… I'm not dying!
And what's with "won't lose to senpai"? She didn't DO anything! Stop making it sound spicy!
Ryoka, still panting from the run, tugged her collar to cool off. Her swan-like neck gleamed snow-white… She caught Satoru looking. His angle only saw chin-up, no exposure, but she still stopped, embarrassed. Then she scooted her chair further away.
"What's wrong?" Satoru asked.
"…Sweaty smell," she whispered.
"Hm?" Too quiet.
Ryoka just giggled, remembering something.
"What's funny?"
"First time we met, you were in the hospital too…"
"Makes me sound frail." True, but first was transmigration memory overload, second was fake. Not weakness!
"N-No way…" Ryoka waved frantically. "How could I think you're weak? You saved me… twice." She flashed a V with slender fingers, beaming—teeth like tiny shells. Satoru wanted to snap a photo.
"Matsubara told you I was here?"
"Yup… came right after class."
"Phone in class, huh."
"…Busted." Ryoka scratched her head, laugh like wind chimes—cute and a little dumb. "Speaking of Ayumu… feels like forever since we first met with him."
"Just last week."
"Eh?" She counted on fingers. True, but felt like ages… So Miyajima-senpai met him even later?
She was first—first meeting, first walk home… Yet why did she feel laps behind senpai now? But it's Miyajima-senpai. Of course she's superior. Kobayashi liking her is normal… And senpai trusted her with him, while she's here sulking…
When senpai handed him over… Ryoka's brain: Ancient main wife entrusting the lord to the concubine. Miyajima = legal wife, me = side chick (aka "little wife").
Her eyes blinked rapidly.
"What's up?" Satoru asked.
Lord = Kobaya— NO. Ryoka shook her head. Brain flooded! Modern era—no such thing!
But the thought stuck. Heart racing, she sneaked a glance at Satoru. Brain unhelpfully generated: her and Sakura, left and right, serving the young master… NO! Senpai's figure is too good—if we both stood before him, I'd have ZERO advantage…
That's the problem?! Ryoka roasted herself. The "serving together" part is the issue, idiot!
She shook her head harder, ponytail whipping.
Satoru stared, weirded out. What's with her? Nod, shake, blush, pale, fist, lip-bite…
"Whatcha thinking?" he asked.
"Huh? Want a bath first?" Ryoka blurted.
Satoru: ?
"!!" Ryoka's face exploded red. WHY DID I SAY THAT OUT LOUD?! Where's a hole to crawl into?!
"N-No—"
"Please don't say anything!" She hugged her head, avoiding his eyes.
Satoru muttered: Compared to me, shouldn't SHE see a doctor?
…
…