"…Maa-chan?"
The name slipped from Isagi's lips before he could stop it, rising unbidden from the deepest corner of his memories the instant he realized why the nickname the girl in front of him had used felt so achingly familiar.
Maria's reaction was instantaneous.
She lifted her face, still clinging to him, her eyes shining with pure, unfiltered joy, as if that single childish nickname had just handed back something she'd thought was lost forever. Her smile widened—soft, radiant—and for a moment it didn't feel like they were standing in the student council room at all. They were back in that little park they used to play in as kids.
"Yes… it's me, Saa-kun."
At those words, the hazy silhouette of "that girl" hiding behind the fog of his memories finally overlapped with the face of the woman right in front of him…
No. They didn't overlap at all.
That girl… Even though Isagi could now clearly remember Maa-chan's features, her appearance was completely different from the woman before him. Not just height and body shape—her hair color and eye color had changed too. The blonde hair and blue eyes were gone, replaced by brown hair and warm brown eyes. Even the aura she gave off was drastically different. The little girl who used to look like an angel and the calm, loving woman everyone rumored about now… they weren't quite the same person.
While his mind raced through these thoughts, Isagi hesitantly asked,
"So… Maa-chan, right? The girl who always played with me in that park about six years ago…"
"Yes, exactly."
"Ah—uh—well…"
Maria's confirmation hit him like an emotional hurricane he never saw coming. Suffocating. Dizzying. A collision of nostalgia, affection, raw physical impulse, and even a strange sense of duty—all slamming into him at once, without warning.
He had finally found her again—the little blonde girl whose smile used to light up his childhood. The girl who chased him around the park, who called him her hero, who nicknamed him "Saa-kun" with the pure belief that the world was simple and kind. Ever since he'd been reborn into this world, he had wondered about her. Among all the memories he'd inherited, the ones involving Maria were the brightest—tinted with innocence, warmth, and the very first stirrings of something that felt a lot like love.
She had been his first crush. No doubt about it. That was why his chest felt like it was about to burst… though the worst was still to come.
Then the real impact hit.
A brutal, scorching, overwhelming feeling flooded his body all at once.
Desire.
Not the desire of a stranger—something visceral, intimate, and deep, like ancient roots finally finding the perfect soil to break through. A sudden, ferocious impulse that tied past and present together in a single point: the need to pull her into his arms, to feel her closeness, to bury his fingers in her hair and draw her even nearer… to kiss her.
The intensity froze him in place—not from lack of reaction, but because any reaction felt too small compared to the explosion inside him.
It shocked him. Nearly took his breath away.
He shouldn't be feeling this. Not like this. Not to this degree. And above all—not this fast.
It was absurd.
He was someone who had already lived another life. He had loved, desired, touched, and won before. He knew exactly how love and desire were supposed to work—how they were born, how they grew, how they matured.
But this… this didn't follow any of those rules.
It hadn't just been born now. It hadn't blossomed gradually. It wasn't the result of time spent together, of building something, of discovery.
It was a fully-formed feeling that had leapt at him with the force of something that had always existed, long before he was even aware of it.
He tried to suppress it immediately—forcing his mind to pull back, trying to cut the impulse off with logic, discipline, cold rationality—everything he was supposed to be good at. But the sensation burned through him like heat too fierce to contain, as if his body had decided to ignore logic entirely and act on its own.
It was useless.
The harder he tried to extinguish it, the stronger it became. The more he fought, the harder his heart pounded—insistent, almost painful—like it was silently screaming her name.
While Isagi struggled to rein in the feeling, Touya blinked several times, trying to process the scene—the hug, the intimate nicknames, the thick, heavy atmosphere. Then, with a confused half-smile that was just a little strained, he raised an eyebrow.
"…So you two know each other?"
His voice broke the spell for a moment.
Maria pulled back just enough to keep her hands on Isagi's shoulders, as if afraid he'd vanish if she let go completely. She turned to Touya with a radiant, almost proud expression—like she was showing off something precious she had finally reclaimed.
"Yes! Saa-kun and I are childhood sweethearts! He's the one I'm always talking about…" she declared before Isagi could even open his mouth.
But Touya looked to Isagi for confirmation. Only Isagi.
Isagi swallowed hard—his heart still racing, heat still pulsing under his skin, desire still throbbing like something he had no right to feel this intensely.
He took a deep breath and nodded, his voice coming out louder than intended, as if he had to force it to stay steady.
"Yeah. That's… right. We knew each other when we were little… and I guess you could say we were childhood sweethearts…"
Maria's smile bloomed with incredible, almost maternal sweetness.
Touya crossed his arms, now clearly far too interested.
"Uh-huh. And you never thought to mention that you've known the student council secretary since you were both backpack-sized?"
Isagi opened his mouth—but no answer came.
Touya was waiting for a witty comeback, or at least some lame protest.
But Isagi… said nothing.
He couldn't. His brain was still a few seconds behind his heart, which kept pounding like someone had poured gasoline on old memories and struck a match.
Maria, on the other hand, looked perfectly at ease—like this reunion was the natural conclusion to something she'd been waiting years for, like everything was finally falling exactly into place. She kept her hands on his shoulders, leaning forward, her face so close that Isagi could see his own reflection in her brown eyes—eyes that weren't Maa-chan's… and yet, somehow, were completely hers.
With almost cruel clarity, he realized he didn't want to pull away.
He couldn't.
And maybe… he didn't have to.
"Ah…" Isagi finally managed, turning to Touya. "I just… didn't think it was relevant."
He tried to sound casual. Failed miserably.
Touya raised an eyebrow, openly suspicious. "Not relevant, huh? Interesting."
Maria just laughed softly—a light, warm laugh so sweet it felt like it was massaging his heart from the inside.
"Saa-kun's always been like that," she said with disarming naturalness. "But he's really kind. He always protected me when we were kids, you know?"
Touya let out a mocking "Oh?"—clearly enjoying this way too much.
And Isagi… realized he didn't have the strength to deny any of it.
Truth be told, fighting this situation, this feeling, this familiar girl calling him "Saa-kun"… felt far more exhausting than simply going with the flow.
Following her.
At least for now.
It was like trying to swim against a tide that was pulling him toward somewhere safe—not dangerous.
Not wrong.
Just… inevitable.
So he took a deep breath, straightened his back, and looked at Maria again. She was still smiling, and for a moment, time made sense again.
Maybe he was overthinking it. Maybe he was trying to rationalize something that didn't need a logical explanation—because it didn't have to have one.
Because it was just "Maa-chan."
Because it was her.
"President, the truth is…" Isagi said, regaining a bit of composure, "I really have known Maria since we were kids. It's just… been a long time. And I wasn't sure it was really her until now. Sorry for the trouble."
Touya glanced back and forth between Isagi and Maria.
"Until now, huh?" he muttered in that tone that said he was about to tease even harder.
But before he could, Maria gently tugged Isagi's arm—not into a full hug, but close enough to make a wordless point.
"Saa-kun," she whispered, so sweetly his stomach twisted. "You finally remembered me. That… that's all I ever wanted."
His throat tightened.
Something warm—this time not the overwhelming desire from before, but something equally dangerous—spread through his chest.
And without thinking too much, Isagi answered softly:
"Sorry I didn't recognize you right away."
Her smile lit up the room.
Touya's eyes widened. "…Okay, this is getting way too emotional for me. I'm just gonna pretend I'm not here."
Maria ignored him completely.
"Saa-kun," she said again, her voice soft but carrying something only Isagi could read, "…can I ask you one thing?"
"Of course," he replied automatically, before his brain caught up.
Her eyes sparkled—almost shy… but determined.
"Call me 'Maa-chan' again. Like before."
That simple request made his heart tremble.
And Isagi realized, with inevitable clarity, that resisting now would be pointless—and maybe even unfair.
He wanted to say it.
He wanted to see her reaction.
He wanted… to accept what was happening.
Taking a deep breath, he leaned in just enough so only Maria could hear and murmured:
"Maa-chan."
She blushed so fast and so deeply that even Touya lost his composure.
"A-ah…" Maria stepped back half a pace, hands flying to her lips as if he'd just confessed his undying love. "S-Saa-kun…!"
Isagi looked away, embarrassed… but not regretful.
Because deep down, even if everything had come far too fast, even if his body had reacted in a way that scared him, even if every rational part of him screamed that this was dangerous…
…going with it felt right.
Maybe too right.
"Well…" Touya crossed his arms. "If you two are about to officially start dating right here in front of everyone, give me a heads-up. Just so I can open the window and dump a bucket of cold water on you."
Maria puffed out her cheeks, clearly annoyed.
But before she could protest, Isagi took a deep breath—regaining some composure, or at least pretending to, because his chest was still too warm, too fast, too alive.
With a crooked half-smile full of irony and disguised relief, he said:
"Right… before the president actually starts throwing buckets of water, we should probably go buy the supplies, yeah? That's why I came here in the first place."
Touya's eyes widened for a second, as if he'd completely forgotten the original reason for the visit—or as if he was genuinely shocked Isagi still remembered something so mundane after all that.
"Ah. Right. The supplies." Touya scratched the back of his neck, looking away. "Yeah, you two do have a job to do…"
Maria, still faintly blushing, fixed him with a look that mixed indignation and… something gentle.
"Готовы идти?"
(Ready to go?)
She asked with a sweetness that was almost dangerous—the kind that made his heart beat louder no matter how hard he tried to ignore it.
Isagi glanced away for a second, trying to steady his breathing before she noticed the effect she had on him.
"Let's go, Maa-chan."
Touya covered half his face with one hand.
"I'm really going to need a vacation."
Isagi let out a short laugh.
"President, I'll leave the report on your desk when we get back."
"Just bring exactly what's on the list, please," Touya grumbled, finally surrendering. "And you two… keep the lovey-dovey level low enough not to traumatize anyone in the hallways, deal?"
Maria frowned, but tightened her grip on Isagi's arm, guiding him toward the door as if afraid he'd disappear if she didn't keep him close.
Isagi let her.
In fact… he let her far too easily.
Because admitting to himself that he liked that closeness was a lot easier than admitting the intensity of everything that had come before it…
The real problem was the other girls.
If he just let himself be swept away by the feelings his predecessor had left behind, what would happen to Marin, Alya, Yuki… and even Kaguya?
Damn it… accepting all this wasn't going to be as simple as it seemed.
He couldn't just charge forward without thinking about the consequences.
Even if he wanted to—and God, he did—because Maria fit perfectly into everything he considered his type…
…he still couldn't act purely on impulse.
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