Shizukuna Sa turned her head and saw a tall, burly boy pushing his way out of the crowd.
He was wearing a short-sleeved athletic shirt, and the muscles on his arms were clearly defined—obviously a member of some sports club.
His brow furrowed, his face bright red, he stepped forward and planted himself in front of the pink-haired girl.
“That’s enough from you!”
The boy glared at the white-haired girl, his voice loud, echoing through the empty stairwell.
“She’s been kneeling here this whole time, and you’re still saying stuff like that? What’s wrong with you? Just because you’re pretty, you think you can bully people?”
The white-haired girl slowly straightened up and turned to look at him.
There was no ripple of emotion in those amber eyes—just a hint of… boredom?
“Oh?” She tilted her head, her tone lazy. “So the small fry actually has backup now? How~ scary~”
She drew out the last syllables, stretching the tilde with a flourish.
“Who are you calling small fry!” The boy was furious. He reached out and grabbed her wrist.
His hand was large, and he closed it around the white-haired girl’s right wrist.
A very, very soft grunt.
The white-haired girl’s body swayed slightly, like a slender bamboo stalk brushed by the wind.
The boy hadn’t actually exerted any force at all.
It was a purely instinctive stopping motion—the pressure of his grip was at most “holding firmly,” nowhere near “squeezing.” He didn’t even feel like he was using any strength.
But the white-haired girl’s wrist visibly reddened.
Starting from the spot where the boy’s fingers touched, a faint ring of redness appeared, spreading out like a pale pigment blooming on white paper.
That overly slender wrist trembled slightly in his palm—the bones so thin they seemed wrapped in nothing but a layer of delicate skin, even the faint blue veins on the inside of her wrist were clearly visible.
The white-haired girl lowered her head, her voice slipping through the cracks of her lips like a feather falling to the ground.
The boy froze.
Shizukuna Sa saw everything clearly from the side. He really hadn’t used any force. None at all.
That girl’s wrist had just… turned red on its own.
‘What impossibly tender skin. What fragile bones?’
“No, I…” The boy stammered, but he didn’t let go.
Then the stairwell door was shoved open.
“Rinna!”
A figure rushed in from the corridor.
Moving incredibly fast, stirring up a gust of wind that lifted even the hair on her forehead.
Shizukuna Sa didn’t even see how the person had appeared—she just felt a blur before her eyes, and a black shadow cut between the white-haired girl and the boy.
One hand precisely clamped onto the back of the boy’s hand gripping Rinna’s wrist. The fingers tightened—not prying outward, but lifting upward.
The boy hissed through his teeth, his hand involuntarily releasing its hold.
Then he was yanked sideways, staggering a large step, his shoes screeching against the tile floor.
Only then did Shizukuna Sa get a clear look at the newcomer.
It was a girl with long, straight black hair.
Her hair fell like a sheet of black satin with not a single strand of impurity, cascading from the crown of her head all the way down past her waist. The quality was so good it reflected the light.
Her features were delicate, but between her brows there was a sharpness that made others wary.
She was a good half-head taller than the white-haired girl, wearing a neat summer uniform—the white shirt’s sleeves rolled up to the elbow, revealing smooth, fair forearms, and the hem of her deep blue pleated skirt stopping just above the knees.
She stood in front of the white-haired girl, her shoulders slightly shifted, like a shield.
And her other hand, completely unnoticed by Shizukuna Sa, had already gently pulled the white-haired girl into her embrace.
“Rinna, are you okay?”
The white-haired girl named Rinna leaned against her shoulder, looked up, and fluttered her eyelashes twice. The rims of her eyes were a little red—whether from pain or from being shouted at.
Her white hair brushed against the black-haired girl’s shoulder—black and white overlapping, like ink bleeding on paper.
“Hisaki… how did you get here…” Rinna’s voice was soft, even gentler than before.
“I heard you from the hallway.”
The black-haired girl, Hisaki, lowered her voice.
She looked down and carefully lifted Rinna’s wrist—the one that had been gripped.
With her other hand, she gently covered it, her thumb stroking over the reddened skin with extreme tenderness, as if touching fragile porcelain.
“Does it hurt?”
Her voice had become light and soft, completely different from the fierce momentum she’d had when she rushed in.
Shizukuna Sa even wondered if she’d seen things—the girl who’d had eyes that could pin someone in place was now looking at the person in her arms with an expression so pained it was almost breaking.
“A little…” Rinna whispered.
Hisaki’s brow twitched.
She looked up at the boy.
He was nursing his hand where she’d pulled him away, his face full of shock.
Because the force that black-haired girl had used to yank him was absurdly strong.
His palm was still numb, the base of his thumb throbbing, as if it had been squeezed by a pair of pliers.
“Hey, classmate, I…”
“The bell rang.”
Hisaki’s tone was flat. Flat as a weather forecast.
She didn’t even glance at him again.
Ring, ring, ring, ring…
As if on cue, the class bell exploded across the entire school building.
The sharp ringing poured out of the speakers at the end of the hallway, instantly filling every corner, vibrating against eardrums.
Hisaki bent down, slipped one arm under Rinna’s knees, and steadied her back with the other, lifting her horizontally with ease.
A princess carry.
Rinna’s white hair spilled over the edge of Hisaki’s arm, swinging like flowing water in the air. The red hairband glowed with a soft luster under the fluorescent lights.
“We’re going to the nurse’s office.”
Hisaki spoke softly to the Rinna in her arms.
Her tone was so gentle it seemed afraid to startle some small animal—but her feet were already moving, her heels clicking a crisp rhythm against the stairwell tiles.
The ignored boy finally snapped back to his senses: “Hey, I didn’t even do anything to her…”
No one paid him any attention.
Hisaki carried Rinna out through the stairwell entrance. Her long black hair cut a sharp arc as she turned, like a curtain falling.
The hot wind blowing in from the hallway carried the sound of cicadas and the noise from the sports field, dispersing some of the eerie stillness that lingered in the stairwell.
Shizukuna Sa watched their figures disappear around the corner of the corridor. She opened her mouth, then closed it.
Then she looked down at the pink-haired girl still kneeling on the ground.
The people around also snapped out of it and swarmed over.
“Are you okay?”
“Get up, get up—the floor is cold!”
“That Shirake girl went way too far…”
“Quick, help her up!”
Several hands reached out to help the pink-haired girl stand.
She kept her head down, her pink hair covering most of her face, her shoulders still trembling slightly—looking pitiful and disheveled.
But no one noticed that when she stood up, the corner of her mouth twitched upward for a split second, then quickly pressed back down.