"Watch out!"
Nanao Akane's voice squeaked in alarm.
Coach Higashi was already charging, his sandbag-sized fist swinging.
Physically, the P.E. teacher's biceps outmuscled even Aihara Yamato's.
Yamato was a sleazy pretty-boy at worst, but Higashi? Generously, you'd call him primal.
Never underestimate a face's intimidation factor—Higashi's mug alone carried a +10 Attack aura.
As his fist closed in on Satoru's face, Akane paled, hand flying to her mouth.
But Satoru, cool as ever, said two words: "Cloud backup."
"…?" Higashi's punch slowed.
"You want to snatch my phone and delete the recording… but it's already saved to the cloud. Backed up." Satoru's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Stealing my phone's useless, Sensei. Killing me's your only shot."
"…Tch." Higashi's fist halted mid-air.
"But Nanao-san's right here." Satoru grinned wider. "Kill me, and you'd have to kill her too, or she'll snitch. Right?"
"…Huh?" Akane blinked, thrown.
How'd this jump to calling the cops?
Higashi wasn't dumb—murder was too big a mess. His fists clenched, crackling, then he smirked, flashing yellowed teeth. "So, what's your play?"
"No play." Satoru's smile didn't waver. "Just asking you to step outside, Sensei. Your class is waiting."
Higashi squinted, glancing at Akane.
Satoru subtly shifted, placing himself between her and the coach.
Higashi sized him up, eyes narrowing. "Class F's Anji Seiji, huh? I'll remember you… and I'll be watching."
With that, he shoved the door open, the bang against the wall dripping with rage.
"…Phew." Satoru wiped cold sweat from his brow with his forearm, striking a smug pose. Man, I'm too good.
Behind him, a thud.
Akane, legs jelly from fear, had collapsed onto the floor.
Shirao High's gym shorts left her long legs bare. Despite being an outdoor club manager, her skin was untouched by UV rays—snow-white and tight, no flab, thanks to baseball club workouts.
She exhaled shakily, hugging her knees.
"You okay?" Satoru asked.
"Yeah… just my heart's racing." Akane paused, then added, "You… heard everything?"
"Yup." Satoru kept it short.
Her embarrassing moment exposed, Akane buried her burning face in her knees, speechless.
Satoru stayed quiet, giving her space.
Soon, Akane realized her rudeness. She steadied herself, looked up, and said, "Sorry, I'm not mad at you… I mean, I should thank you. If you hadn't shown up, Higashi—that creep—would've… I might've even agreed…"
Her cheeks flushed with shame and anger. "…Thanks," she whispered.
Silence stretched.
Akane lost track of how long she sat there. As she tried to pull herself together, Satoru spoke.
"Are you an idiot?"
"…Huh?" Akane blinked her clear blue eyes.
"You'd agree to that?"
"…Because of Shono…" She trailed off, collecting her thoughts. "Since you heard, I won't hide it. I love Shono. Being a starter in the prefectural tournament is his dream. I have to protect it!" To steel herself, she repeated, "…I have to!"
"Even if it means sacrificing yourself?" Satoru asked.
"Even if it costs everything," Akane said.
Satoru had never gone all-in for anyone—only for Duoduo. He didn't get her mindset. It felt twisted, but he wasn't here to play therapist. He was here to crush NTR.
And he had a better way to stop her.
"Fine, but if that old creep harasses you again, I'm leaking the recording," Satoru said.
It wasn't just a threat to Higashi—it was for Akane too.
She had two paths now.
Option one: Higashi tries to force himself on her → she refuses → he benches Shono.
Option two: Higashi tries to force her → she gives in → Satoru leaks the recording → Higashi's fired → Shono's benched.
Same outcome either way.
Unless she was brain-dead, no one'd pick option two.
Akane clearly got it. "But… Shono…"
"Not my problem," Satoru said.
"Ugh." Her eyes dimmed, heavy.
"Can you stand?" Satoru asked, extending a hand. "Class is almost over. You should get back."
Akane snapped to attention.
Nothing happened with Higashi, but rumors would be brutal. People's words are fearsome, as they say.
She reached for Satoru's hand, ready to pull herself up.
Then—whoosh—Satoru yanked his hand back.
Akane: ?
She'd been pushing off the ground, counting on his support. His sudden retreat sent her tumbling back onto her butt.
"Ahem, uh… no touching between guys and girls. Get up yourself," Satoru said, deadpan.
"…What's that about?" Akane grumbled. Just a hand, jeez.
Satoru turned, heading out of the shed, then paused, glancing back with a warning. "Don't get tangled with Higashi again, or I'll leak the recording myself."
"…That's so overbearing!" Akane huffed.
"Because I don't want you getting hurt." Satoru's voice softened, like a confession. "Shono's dream might mean everything to you, but keeping you safe means more to me."
"…"
Akane froze, words failing her.
Her heart thudded as she watched Satoru's lazy silhouette.
The boy scratched his head, troubled.
Trouble…
He'd mentioned earlier—he didn't own a phone.
So, what'd he record with?
Answer: Nothing.
Good thing my acting's Oscar-worthy. Back in Kagoku, I could be a fresh-faced idol… wait, idols don't need acting skills. Just a face… wait, do idols even have faces?
…
…