What They Gained

The office door closed softly behind Chabashira Sae, leaving only the last few echoes of her high heels against the floor lingering in the air.

Kiyona stared toward the now-empty doorway. Her delicate, doll-like face remained expressionless. Only her lips parted slightly, and the words she spoke carried their usual coolness, as if she were stating a fact she had no interest in:

"Ridiculous."

Her gaze swept over the trees outside the window. The curve of her profile looked even more indifferent in the slanting sunlight, as though the long wait had been nothing more than an insignificant interruption.

"After all that time," Kiyona said evenly. Her voice was quiet, but clear enough to echo through the silent teachers' room entrance. "That was all? We waited just to hear her say a few pointless things?"

Hoshino Kanade turned his head, his gaze settling on her faintly pursed lips. To him, that curve held a trace of liveliness that was subtle and uniquely hers. His lips twitched, and he picked up her words in a low, natural voice:

"Yeah, we wasted quite a bit of time." He paused, then looked toward the window at the end of the hall, where the setting sun spilled in. "Still, it wasn't a complete waste."

Kiyona's lashes fluttered almost imperceptibly.

She didn't turn to look at him. Her gaze remained fixed on the shadows of the trees outside the hallway window, as if she had no interest in what he'd said.

But her fingers, which had been hanging naturally at her side, curled soundlessly inward, their tips pressing lightly into her palm.

The golden glow of the setting sun brushed over her jade-white ear, tinting its tip a faint, translucent pink before quickly fading, so fast it might have been an illusion.

Hoshino Kanade knew all too well how Chabashira Sae's arrogance was etched into her very bones and written across her face. He'd understood that attitude from the first day she walked into their classroom.

That little display of disregard and arrogance from Chabashira Sae wasn't enough to stir even the faintest ripple of what might be called anger in him.

Strictly speaking, Chabashira Sae's long delay and worthless lecture had instead become an unexpected opportunity.

Without those deliberately prolonged moments alone, perhaps the thin ice between them wouldn't have broken so soon.

Hoshino Kanade thought back to the past. When he and Kiyona walked together, they usually kept a barely perceptible distance between them. Their fingertips occasionally brushed for a moment, like a feather skimming the surface of water—gone in an instant. That had been the limit she allowed.

But now, not long after they left the office, as they walked along the quiet corridor of the school building, the corridor lights stretched their shadows into long, shifting shapes.

Without warning, Kiyona reached out and took his arm.

She wasn't testing him, and she didn't hesitate. Cool as she was, her movement had an effortless air of inevitability—her arm slipped naturally through the gap between Hoshino Kanade's arm and his body, gently linking with his.

Just as her fingertips were about to touch his sleeve, a faint blush, cool as morning dew, crept over her earlobe, then was forcibly suppressed the next second.

The fabric beneath her fingertips seemed to radiate a scorching heat. She instinctively wanted to curl her fingers away, but the moment the movement began, she turned that tiny flutter into a closer embrace.

She turned her face slightly, her gaze settling on their intertwined shadows stretching ahead, as if that would let her ignore the unusually distinct sound of her heartbeat beside her ear.

The instant Kiyona slipped her arm through his, Hoshino Kanade almost unconsciously and quite naturally relaxed the muscles in his arm, adjusting it into a more comfortable support so she could link arms with him more easily.

He felt the cool, soft weight settle into the crook of his arm. Their school uniforms gently enclosed the points where they touched.

The intimacy of their closeness carried a cool, matter-of-fact ease. Yet the slight, fleeting curl of her fingertips, almost too subtle to catch, and her deliberately averted gaze fixed intently on the distant shadows betrayed a hint of bashfulness beneath her forced composure.

Neither of them said a word. They simply maintained this newly shortened distance and continued along the path beneath the cherry trees in quiet understanding.

Kiyona could feel the warmth in her cheeks hadn't completely faded, like a thin veil resting against her skin.

She tried to maintain her usual indifferent expression, driving away the image that kept flashing through her mind: his eyes and brows suddenly looming larger in the dim light of the Pantry, and the warm pressure of his lips against hers.

Hoshino Kanade could clearly feel the unmistakable weight and softness on his arm. Kiyona's cool body heat seeped through the thin fabric of their uniforms into his skin. It wasn't bone-chilling; instead, it brought a strange comfort that settled warmly in his heart.

The slanting sunlight at five in the afternoon fell gently across his shoulders. The air was steeped in the scent of plants warmed all day by the sun. A mild breeze, carrying the damp fragrance of grass and earth, brushed past their hair and Hoshino Kanade's faintly flushed ears. Some of that warmth came from the sunset, but perhaps more of it came from the quiet, unmistakable presence leaning against his arm.

As this almost greedy tranquility enveloped him, and his thoughts nearly sank into the cool, real sensation in the crook of his arm, a clear, uncompromising voice suddenly shattered the silence of the hallway like an icicle piercing a warm bubble:

"Wait." Horikita Suzune had appeared at the corner of the corridor without them noticing. She stood perfectly straight, her sharp gaze fixed on the two figures who had just drawn close—and on their arms, still linked.

She called out to them in her characteristic tone, the one she used to announce something important, her gaze lingering for half a second on the arm Kiyona had linked with Hoshino Kanade's.

Looking at Horikita Suzune, who had returned, Hoshino Kanade raised an eyebrow with a trace of surprise. "Why are you still here?"

The unexpected question seemed to press pause. Horikita Suzune's thoughts instantly returned to her meeting with Chabashira Sae.

She didn't immediately answer Hoshino Kanade's question. Her gaze seemed to pass through the scene before her and settle on some invisible focal point.

Chabashira-sensei had probably done that because she wanted Horikita to use the two of them to raise Class D to Class A, right?

The thought surfaced clearly in her mind.

Although Horikita Suzune still didn't believe she belonged in Class D, the feeling of being misplaced made her press her lips together.

But Horikita Suzune never allowed herself to wallow in a sense of injustice. If she truly had been placed in Class D, she would raise it to Class A through her own ability.

She was utterly certain of that.

Her gaze refocused on Hoshino Kanade, then seemed to pass over him and land on someone else—Ayanokoji Kiyona.

Through Chabashira-sensei, Horikita Suzune had also realized that the two of them were indeed quite special.

That distinctiveness might be the key Chabashira-sensei had been hinting at.

If she wanted to rise to Class A, the two of them would undoubtedly be a great help.

That conclusion took shape in her calm analysis, grounded in practical considerations.

After a brief silence, Horikita Suzune's gaze refocused, as sharp as ever. She had clearly pulled herself out of her thoughts.