Ayaka felt the murderous glare drilling into her spine. Every hair on the back of her neck stood straight up.
She whipped her head toward Satoru in pure disbelief. Is this guy running a fever?! Why the hell is he giving ME his number but not Sakura?!
"Mmm… infrared, right…" Satoru muttered, casually flipping his phone open and giving it a little spin like some kind of show-off. Japan's old-school infrared exchange—no QR codes, just pure digital name-card vibes with number and email included. Akane had drilled it into him ages ago; now he was basically a pro.
Simple button presses, beams crossed—official contact secured.
"Don't overthink it," Satoru said with a perfectly straight face. "Vice-captain needs to be reachable, that's all."
Ayaka stood there frozen, slowly fishing her ancient flip phone out of her skirt pocket like she was in a dream. Wait… I just got his number? And his email? Just like that?
A tiny, smug firework exploded in her chest. I thought he was ice-cold… but it was THIS easy? Does that mean… in his heart, he actually thinks I'm closer than Sakura—HEH?! Am I actually winning?!
She swallowed hard, puffing out her chest and trying to look cool. "D-don't overthink it," she echoed, throwing the line right back at the petrified Sakura.
Sakura's gorgeous violet eyes were completely dead—sparkling, yes, but flat and lifeless. Ayaka suddenly felt a phantom blade pressed against her throat.
"Why doesn't Ayaka-senpai have our contacts?" a clueless first-year whispered to his upperclassman. "Does she not see me as a club member?"
"Stay positive," the senpai answered kindly. "Ayaka-senpai doesn't see you as human."
First-year: …
For over a year the only person with Ayaka's number had been Kato. The senpai still held a grudge—people-to-people gaps are truly infuriating…
"…Sakura?" Ayaka tried, voice cracking, neck hairs screaming danger.
Sakura ignored her completely. A flawless, skin-deep smile curved her lips—zero warmth, pure ice sculpture. Ayaka's survival instincts went into overdrive.
It's not me, it's this stinking brat who won't give YOU his number and is now staring daggers at ME!
Ayaka's eyes darted between the two. Should I beg him for help? But how could the untouchable high-peak flower Miyajima Sakura ever lower herself to that? Her best friend pleading on her behalf? Unthinkable!
"What were you two talking about?" Sakura asked sweetly, gliding closer, that perfect smile still glued in place but radiating pure menace.
She knows. She's just making me say it.
Ayaka's mouth opened and closed like a goldfish. She clutched her phone so hard the plastic creaked. Cold sweat rolled down her back.
This vibe… like the mistress getting caught by the legal wife's best friend… I'm dead.
"Oh, I just exchanged numbers with Ayaka-senpai," Satoru answered calmly, completely oblivious to the bloodbath brewing around him.
HE SAID IT. THIS IDIOT ACTUALLY SAID IT OUT LOUD.
Ayaka's soul nearly left her body. Is he suicidal or is he deliberately trying to get me murdered?!
"Yes?" Sakura's voice was honey over broken glass. "How nice, Ayaka."
Ayaka's knees knocked together. "…V-vice-captain duties," she squeaked, half a second away from dropping to the floor in dogeza.
"Heh… hehehe…" Sakura covered her mouth with delicate fingers, letting out the tiniest, chilling laugh.
Ayaka recognized that laugh. That was the "I'm calculating exactly how to dispose of your body" laugh. Her heart turned into a cold, soggy ball of black yarn.
I have no follow-up plan. If she corners me later I'm finished!
Why me?! It's true I'm a heavenly beauty, but compared to Sakura I'm basically a side dish! Why does he like the Japanese-style menu when there's premium wagyu right there—COUGH wrong time to feel smug!
Sakura's really going to kill me, isn't she?!
God! Anyone! Save me! Ugly, handsome, tall, short, boy, girl—I'll marry whoever shows up right now!
And then, as if heaven itself answered:
"Miyajima-senpai," Satoru said casually, tilting his head, "should we exchange numbers too?"
Ayaka's jaw hit the floor. …Huh? He's giving it to her now?!
Sakura blinked once. Twice. Her cherry-blossom lips parted in pure shock. The murderous ice sculpture smile melted instantly into the brightest, sunniest spring-river glow Ayaka had ever seen.
"Only the vice-captain needs it, but the captain doesn't?" Satoru continued, perfectly innocent.
"No no no, I need it too!!" Sakura blurted, frantically patting her pockets before remembering her phone was in the locker room with her uniform.
She spun around and—elegant Minister be damned—did the cutest little panicked sprint toward the changing room.
"K-Kobayashi-kun, wait right there!!"
For one glorious second, the untouchable yamato nadeshiko looked like a tiny clumsy puppy who'd just been offered a treat.
"Why doesn't the Minister have our contacts either…?" the same confused first-year muttered again. "Does she not see us as human…?"
The upperclassman sighed dramatically. "How would I know? Even Kato doesn't have the Minister's number."
Kato, standing nearby, looked like he was about to cry ramen tears of shame.
It's not really about the contact itself, the senpai thought wistfully. When the Minister rejects you, it feels like she's doing you a favor just by existing…
Sigh. Handsome is justice.
Handsome + swords + indestructible balls.
Even the Minister can't resist. Hell, even I—another dude—can't resist…
The senpai shook his head with a long, world-weary sigh.
…
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