Aiu Yayoi had been White Hill's health teacher for eight years; her husband had been gone for almost seven.
Memories were just wind now.
No matter how many nosy aunties pushed remarriage, she shut them down every time.
She knew her looks were lethal. Even pushing thirty, boys still turned tomato-red around her. The bold ones would joke, "Yayoi-nee, just move in with me!" She'd raise a fist, threaten to beat the brats, and they'd scatter laughing.
Today she raised that same fist… then slowly lowered it.
This kid wasn't laughing sleazily. His questions were dead serious—like asking if she'd eaten.
Weird.
She shook it off. Back to work.
"Enough chit-chat." She stood, looking down with professional arrogance. "Up."
Satoru stood obediently.
"Strip."
"…Strip?" He blinked.
"You said you're injured. Strip so I can check."
"B-But I'm really fine—"
Yayoi smirked inwardly. Classic high-school boy: big mouth, shy body.
If Higashi missed because it's too small… heh, perfect revenge for the creepy interrogation.
"N-No need, really—"
"No hiding illness from the doctor," she recited the ancient line.
Satoru froze. She doubled down—can't cure you if you won't let me, brat.
In one smooth motion she squatted, grabbed his waistband with pale fingers, and yanked.
"Relax, sensei's seen it all—"
Dead silence.
Yayoi's brain blue-screened. One tiny syllable escaped:
"…Huh?"
Outside the door:
"This scene I've never seen," Ayaka muttered to Sakura. "Acts like nothing happened? Heaven must've blessed that thing."
Sakura was pure worry; Ayaka looked calmer, but her fingers were drumming her arm hard enough to bruise.
"Kobayashi-kun's okay, right?" Sakura whispered.
"Relax," Ayaka lied, drumming faster. "Probably some secret Hawaiian iron-crotch art. Sword genius, ball genius—makes sense."
"…Mm." Sakura pressed her hands together in prayer.
Footsteps—running.
"Miyajima-senpai!"
Shigemoto Suzuka skidded to a halt, eyes already teary. "Kobayashi-kun?!"
"Still inside with Aiu-sensei…" Sakura answered.
"How did this even—!?" Suzuka looked ready to cry.
The trio exchanged helpless glances. Come to think of it… why did Higashi suddenly go berserk? Because Satoru "stole" the baseball manager? Lame excuse.
Suzuka had overslept—rare for her.
Last night Ayumu called around seven: "Satoru invited me to morning PT~"
Translation: the drunkard wants the wine, not the cup. Wine = childhood friend Suzuka.
Ayumu teased: "If you two start dating, you owe me dinner."
Suzuka squeaked "N-No way!" and hung up, then rolled around hugging her pillow, giggling like an idiot. Hehehe~~ does Satoru really… hehehe~~
Then Akane called.
They hadn't talked properly in ages. Akane dropped the bomb: she quit baseball because she likes a boy and wants to chase him.
Suzuka instantly awake: "WHO? Details!!"
Akane: "He's super popular…"
Suzuka: "You're cute, no problem! …Actually I like someone too…"
They hyped each other up until 3 a.m., planning a summer beach double-date, squealing over fantasies.
Then tragedy: classic anime bread-in-mouth rush failed because alarm never rang.
First thing at school: Ayumu's text—Satoru got kicked in the nuts by a teacher.
Creeeak.
The health-room door opened.
Satoru strolled out looking perfectly refreshed, uniform immaculate, face relaxed.
Like he'd just come back from a spa day.
…