The air was thick with the scent of grass and the earthy smell of soil.
For Harumura Makoto, this kind of weather couldn't be more comfortable — but for Misaki Shokuhou, it was clearly anything but.
Quite the opposite, in fact!
While Makoto looked relaxed and at ease, Misaki was standing on the steps leading down the mountain, her right hand gripping the railing meant to help climbers.
Her face was a picture of complete exhaustion, breathing heavily, mouth open wide for air.
Makoto pulled out his phone, glanced at the push notification on the screen, and let out a helpless sigh.
"It's about to rain. If we keep dawdling, we're going to end up soaked."
As mentioned before, Academy City's weather was entirely controlled by machinery.
Rain, snow, even tsunamis and hurricanes — all within the reach of science.
Hearing this, Misaki's cheeks flushed faintly.
But the next instant, her head, which had been hanging low, shot up in a flash.
She put on a fierce expression, fixing Makoto with an exaggerated glare — her sparkling eyes like something rarely seen even in manga — and ground her teeth with an audible grit-grit.
"Shut up! I'm just not good at physical exercise, that's all."
"This is more than just 'not good,' you know. It's a downhill path, barely a kilometer, and you've already stopped to rest once. Your stamina is way below average, honestly. No, wait—Saying it's below average is actually praising you."
Makoto's tone was thick with disdain.
She had seemed so patient earlier, and now here he was getting annoyed over something so trivial.
Misaki's temper flared — or perhaps it was more like it ignited.
"What's that supposed to mean!? No matter how bad I am, it's just a downhill walk! I'm not that hopeless! It's just because I burned up so much energy running for my life earlier. I haven't fully recovered yet."
Her right hand still clung to the railing, but her free left hand flailed as she spoke, agitation written all over her movements.
A wave of grievance suddenly washed over her, and crystal-like tears rolled from her eyes.
The saying goes, "If you've got the looks, even crying can be beautiful." And in this case, it was 100% true.
She wasn't sobbing, but the sight of those silver droplets tracing down her soft, fair cheeks left two glistening trails — a picture worth immortalizing for centuries.
"Seriously… You were so gentle with me earlier. Why can't you keep showing that same kindness now?"
Yes — that was the real source of her anger and frustration.
Moments ago, Makoto had given her such a sense of safety, every word he spoke making her heart pound like it might leap from her chest.
In her mind, his image had soared to a height that felt completely unreachable.
And now, it had all crumbled so quickly.
She hadn't even had the chance to throw a tantrum before this man started teasing and needling her.
"I'm not bullying you, you know. And this stamina issue is a real problem. Judging by how you look right now, I bet you fake your way through every P.E. class using your ability, don't you?"
"Eh?"
In the blink of an eye, the girl who had been shedding silver tears just moments ago was now smiling awkwardly.
Her sorrow vanished without a trace — because his words had hit the bullseye.
"Forget it."
With another obvious sigh, Makoto stepped down to the stair just in front of her, then crouched.
"Get on. I'll carry you back. At your current pace, who knows how long it'll take to reach the dorm."
"Really?"
Misaki's surprise was plain to hear in her voice.
"Would I lie about something like this?"
His hands moved behind him, as if ready to support her weight.
"If you keep dawdling, it really will start raining."
"Ah…"
She froze for a split second, but her next movements were quick and decisive — somehow summoning a burst of energy from nowhere.
Letting go of the railing, she hopped up, the two motions blending into one fluid leap onto his back.
Makoto's large hands supported her naturally, while her pale arms snaked around his neck, locking in place across his chest.
"Alright, let's go."
"Go, go!"
The scenery sped by in reverse, the wind rushing past her face.
Compared to flying through the air earlier with Makoto using the grappling hooks, this was far slower, but it meant she could keep her eyes open.
From her angle, she couldn't see his whole face — only about half of his profile — yet her cheeks remained flushed the entire time.
That chiseled, perfectly sculpted face, the high bridge of his nose, the soft curve of pale lips…
And the solid, firm muscles beneath her arms as she clung to him.
To be honest, she wouldn't call herself a looks-obsessed person.
She valued "the right feeling" far more in a partner.
But if that partner also happened to be this handsome… well, seeing that every day at home certainly wouldn't hurt.
"Hey, are you asleep? You're drooling on me."
Feeling the damp, sticky sensation on his shoulder, Makoto slowed his pace slightly.
"I'm not asleep. I was just… thinking about something."
Her quick denial came right by his ear.
"Then why's my shoulder wet?"
Makoto sped up again.
"It's rain! Just rainwater. Even if I were asleep, there's no way I'd drool."
Her face was now redder than it had ever been, her tone so flustered it destroyed any credibility she might have had.
"Is that so? Fine, we'll leave it at that. But can you loosen your arms a little? You're squeezing me too tightly."
"No! You're staying like this. That way you can't look around. If you try, I'll just cover your eyes."
Her little face was so red it looked like it might start dripping blood.
There was no way she could let him turn his head now — because if he did, the imprint marks on her face would be exposed.
"Is that so… fine, we'll do it your way."