Lucky Pervert? Part 2
Even as evening settled over First High School, the campus buzzed with students darting about, brimming with energy. The atmosphere rivaled the frenetic rush before a cultural festival, though such events didn't exist at a magic high school, where the curriculum layered magical training atop standard academics.
Unlike the Nine Schools Competition, dominated by elite performers, the Thesis Competition offered Course 2 students a chance to shine, making its prep period a time of festival-like excitement. The refreshment brigade, largely composed of first-year girls from cultural clubs, was in overdrive, matching the final push. Despite the late hour—well past normal dismissal time—these girls scurried about, delivering bento dinners. Among them was Mizuki, a member of the art club.
As Mikihiko exchanged farewells with Katsuto, preparing to leave, the refreshment brigade arrived at their group.
"Yoshida, join us for some food!" Sawaki boomed.
Mikihiko cursed his timing. The arena was mostly filled with second-years, and while a few first-years had been tapped for security, Mikihiko barely knew them, making the setting distinctly uncomfortable. His stomach growled, so in a sense, the invitation was well-timed. But eating among this crowd? The food would probably taste like cardboard, and his digestion would suffer, he thought.
As he mulled over an excuse to slip away, Mikihiko felt a peculiar gaze—a mix of expectation and relief. Curious, he traced the stare, only to lock eyes with a girl he considered a friend. Mizuki instantly turned her face away, breaking eye contact.
(No way…) Mikihiko thought, stunned.
Noticing his shock, Mizuki offered an awkward smile, her expression sheepish. Distracted by their exchange, Mikihiko failed to dodge Sawaki's insistence and was swept into the circle of students. It seemed this was the brigade's final stop, as the girls joined them, neatly arranging sandwiches from their bentos on their knees.
Mikihiko sat cross-legged on the tatami, having been strong-armed into the group and quickly corrected from a formal kneel by a senior's pointed guidance. Almost simultaneously, the tea-pouring service wrapped up, and a girl beside him handed him a wrapped bento.
He didn't need to look to know it was Mizuki. He'd been tracking her movements from the corner of his eye.
"Thanks, Shibata," Mikihiko said politely.
Mizuki's face lit up with an exaggeratedly flustered smile. Several upperclassmen—mostly girls—grinned mischievously at the sight, their lips curling upward, though none spoke up. As students of the prestigious First High, they knew better than to ruin the moment with crude teasing… or perhaps they just wanted the show to continue.
Unaware of the scheming undercurrents, Mikihiko and Mizuki were too caught up in their own awkwardness to notice. Mizuki hadn't thought twice about sitting beside him, but surrounded by upperclassmen, she lacked the courage to strike up a conversation with a boy, even a classmate. Mikihiko, used to talking with girls thanks to his female-heavy cohort of disciples, was thrown off by Mizuki's vivid blush, making it hard to find a conversational foothold.
The result was an adorably innocent, almost "first-love" vibe that warmed the hearts of onlookers. By now, it wasn't just the girls watching with fond amusement—even the rough-and-tumble boys, usually oblivious to such subtleties, picked up on the delicate tension between the pair.
When Mizuki refilled Mikihiko's tea and their fingers brushed, she yanked her hand back in a classic flustered move. Silent cheers and equally silent glares rippled through the circle in equal measure.
The gazes, once unnoticed, now felt stifling to Mizuki, who began to fidget restlessly.
"Um, I just…" she mumbled, her words vague as she tried to stand.
But modern society had largely abandoned tatami culture. While some girls used magic to lighten their weight for kneeling— a trick most second-year Course 2 students could manage without a CAD—Mizuki, a first-year Course 2 student, wasn't there yet. More crucially, she didn't even know such a technique existed, and her lack of experience with tatami-based activities left her—
"Wah!?" she yelped, her legs numb from kneeling.
"Danger!" Mikihiko shouted, springing to his feet.
He caught Mizuki as she teetered, preventing her from collapsing. Breathing a sigh of relief, he realized he was staring at the back of her head—holding her from behind.
"Huh…?" he muttered.
"!?" Mizuki squeaked.
"Sorry!" Mikihiko blurted, realizing his hands had landed somewhere compromising.
Mizuki twisted free in a panic, only to stumble forward, catching herself on all fours—a mortifying position with her backside facing Mikihiko. Her embarrassment spiraled, and, forgetting her numb legs, she bolted out of the gym, tears welling in her eyes.
Mikihiko stood frozen, staring after her, until a sharp rebuke from an unfamiliar upperclassman girl snapped him out of it.
"What are you doing, Yoshida? Go after her!"
Spurred into action, Mikihiko grabbed a pair of communal sandals for Mizuki, who'd fled barefoot, and chased after her vanishing figure.
Outside, Tatsuya, working on preparations, caught sight of Mizuki running past, her face on the verge of tears. Moments later, a flustered Mikihiko dashed by.
"What happened?" Miyuki asked, having joined Tatsuya after wrapping up student council duties.
"Who knows?" Tatsuya replied with a shrug. "Probably the usual."
"Poor Mikihiko and Mizuki," Miyuki said sympathetically.
"They do make a cute pair, though," she added with a smile.
Miyuki and the others watched the two with fond, teasing gazes as they disappeared into the distance.
"Shiba, let's get back to work," Azusa called.
Tatsuya stuffed the rest of his sandwich into his mouth and resumed the final adjustments.
Whether it's Erika's slap or Mizuki's panic, that's about the extent of it, right?
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