After the major life event of exchanging LINE contacts with a girl for the first time, Shiki left the supply room and returned to the classroom. As expected, Kawato and his gang didn’t bother him again.

Instead, being invited to lunch by Karin drew the attention of almost the entire class. Even after lessons began, curious glances kept flicking his way — making Shiki feel as if he were sitting on a bed of nails.

And then, after school.

Sneaking away from prying eyes, he headed for the supply room.

“Wow…”

Haruno was there, eyes sparkling as she looked around, with Karin beside her wearing a wry smile. It seemed the two of them had finished their homeroom earlier than Shiki’s class.

“Ah! Shiki-senpai!”

Hearing his first name so naturally from a pretty younger girl made him a bit self-conscious, but he replied anyway.

“H-Hey. Momozono-san.”

“This place is amazing! It feels just like a secret base!”

As Haruno gushed with excitement, Karin gently calmed her with a “whoa, easy there” and turned to Shiki.

“Thanks, Shiki, for letting me show Haruno this place. Not many people know about it yet, but she’s my friend too.”

Since the new school year had only just begun, very few people knew that first-year Haruno was part of the Kohinata faction.

In fact, even Kawato and his gang hadn’t realised she was not only the Empress’s junior but even a student at St. Lukimantz Academy when they tried to drag her into a secluded spot. Shiki himself hadn’t realised either, until Karin told him.

Of course, even aside from her being in the Kohinata faction, Haruno’s looks were far too striking for her to stay unnoticed for long. Word about her would spread through the school soon enough.

“I trust Momozono-san. Just…”

“I know. Haruno won’t come here alone — I’ll always bring her.”

Haruno was unbelievably clumsy.

If she tried to come to the supply room by herself, she’d definitely be noticed. Hence the rule.

“So yeah, Haruno — you’re absolutely not allowed to come here alone, got it?”

“Yes, senpai!”

Her reply was as bright and honest as ever, maybe because she was well aware of her own clumsiness.

…Not that Shiki found that entirely reassuring.

“By the way, speaking of friends — what about, uh… the other two?”

He meant Karin’s close allies, Tsukiike Chiaki and Hiyama Touka.

“Hmm… well, I do wanna tell them about this place and introduce you, but…”

Karin looked straight at him.

Her gaze was oddly gentle, and it made Shiki’s heart skip.

“Thing is, Shiki, you’ve gotten used to me, but deep down you’re not great with delinquents like us, right? Those two are kinda intense, so I figured you should get more used to me first before meeting them.”

“Y-yeah… maybe so…”

It was a hard thing to answer directly — especially since she’d already seen through the fact that, unlike before, he didn’t find her scary at all anymore.

Whether or not she noticed his hesitation, Karin ended the topic with a brisk “Anyway,” and said,

“Let’s get started — the fight-lesson.”

He gulped.

Seeing that reaction, Karin chuckled.

“No need to be so tense.”

“B-but… being taught how to fight by you means learning some kind of ancient martial art, doesn’t it…?”

Karin waved her hands.

“Nah, I’m not teaching you any of that old-style Kohinata-style Ancient Combat Technique crap my old man loves. I’m just gonna show you the basics — nothing crazy.”

Shiki began to relax slightly — until she added:

“For now, I just wanna see how well you move, so we’ll do a light spar.”

“That doesn’t sound very light!”

“It’s fine, really. You can come at me seriously if you want, but I’ll only…”

She reached out and lightly tapped his shoulder.

“…hit back like this.”

That explanation made Shiki fall silent for a completely different reason.

Karin frowned at his hesitation.

“What, don’t tell me even that kind of spar freaks you out?”

“N-no, not exactly… It might sound cheeky saying this to you, Kohinata-san, but… hitting or kicking a girl, even for training — I just can’t…”

“It’s fine, it’s fine. You’ll never land a hit anyway.”

“It’s not about hitting or missing — I just hate the idea of hurting a girl at all…”

“So it’s just how you are, huh?”

He nodded, and Karin sighed deeply.

“Geez… saying that to the person who’s about to teach you to fight…”

“S-sorry…”

“Don’t apologise. I’m actually praising you. Same as when you saved Haruno — sticking to your own principles even when you’re outmatched isn’t something most people can do.”

“That’s right!” Haruno chimed in. “I’d be way too scared to even speak up in front of scary people!”

“And that’s still something not everyone can do, Haruno.”

Karin gave another weary smile, then turned back to Shiki.

“Alright. How about this — instead of punching or kicking, you just touch me. Deal?”

“That… might work…”

He trailed off, realising there was a new problem with that format.

Karin must’ve noticed, because she grinned, pointing at her chest.

“You can touch anywhere you want. If you ‘accidentally’ touch here, I won’t mind.”

Given what she’d just said — and the fact that she’d clearly read his thoughts — Shiki’s face went scarlet.

“A-are you teasing me, Kohinata-san?”

“Maybe a little.”

She stuck out her tongue playfully.

It was cute enough that he couldn’t even be mad — which only made him realise how simple he really was.

“So anyway,” Karin said, “we’ll be doing our little spar. Haruno, if you hear footsteps, give us a signal.”

“Yes!”

Haruno grabbed three brooms from the locker, setting them where anyone could reach, and moved near the door.

Shiki had been allowed to use the supply room on the condition that he cleaned it.

If a teacher came for supplies, they’d immediately drop the “fight lesson” and pretend to be cleaning.

As for explaining why Karin and her friends were there — well, he’d just have to say they were helping out.

Luckily, ever since Karin had disciplined the school’s delinquents, classes had gone much more smoothly, so even the teachers didn’t look badly on the Kohinata faction anymore.

“Alright, start whenever you want, Shiki.”

There was no start line like in judo, no bell like in boxing — Karin just strolled casually to the centre of the room as she spoke.

That alone made it clear: the lesson had already begun.

But even though it was only “tag,” Shiki hesitated to make the first move. With Karin’s back so boldly turned, it was even harder.

“What, not coming?”

She glanced back with a half-smile.

“Ah, right — I guess it’s hard to start when it’d look like harassment if anyone walked in while you were trying to touch me.”

She laughed, and he couldn’t help blurting, “That’s not funny!”

“Nobody’s gonna see us, so relax. But fine, if it’s that awkward, I’ll start instead.”

“O-okay… that might be easier…”

“Alright, then. I’ll try to tag your forehead. If you can react, do it.”

Declaring the target like that seemed like way too big a handicap — or so he thought, until…

“Eh?”

Before he knew it, Karin was right in front of him.

“Gotcha.”

A faint pat on his forehead — and then she was gone.

Vanished from sight.

He’d heard stories of fighters moving so fast they seemed to disappear, but he’d always thought it was an exaggeration. Yet here it was, happening before his eyes.

“Over here.”

Her voice came from behind; he spun around — but she was gone again.

“Now do you get it?”

This time she was off to the side, stopping a short distance away.

“If you don’t move like your life depends on it, you won’t even be able to see me, let alone touch me.”

Realising just how vast the gap between them was, Shiki steeled himself and charged.

He swung his hand, trying to tap her shoulder—

“Whoops.”

She simply leaned back, dodging easily, and tapped his forehead again.

From there, it was completely one-sided. No matter how many times he tried, every attempt missed, and Karin tagged his forehead dozens of times.

Even knowing exactly where she was aiming, he couldn’t block or evade once. The difference in speed and control was terrifying.

If this were a real fight, he wouldn’t have stood a chance.

Now he truly understood why they called her the Empress of St. Lukimantz Academy.

When Shiki finally started gasping for breath, Karin paused the spar.

“Alright, stay like that and listen.”

Still bent over, hands on his knees, he listened as she gave her evaluation.

“Just like I figured — your errand-running built up your stamina and reflexes, but you don’t really know how to use your body.”

“How to… use my body?”

“Yeah. Let’s skip footwork for now. When you tried to touch me, you didn’t actually hit where you aimed, right?”

“I… think I did?”

“You didn’t. Seriously. Here, I’ll show you.”

She raised her left index finger in front of her chest.

“Try poking my fingertip — fast, not slow.”

Shiki knew it wouldn’t be easy — hitting such a tiny target accurately was tricky — but it shouldn’t be that hard.

Little did he know, this was about to go horribly wrong.

“Okay, here I go.”

He jabbed his finger toward hers — and completely missed, his fingertip slipping past without even grazing hers.

If that were all, it would’ve been fine. But…

“!?!?”

Still tired from the spar, he stumbled forward — and his outstretched finger went much farther than he’d intended.

Then came a soft, yielding sensation.

Shiki’s fingertip had sunk deep into Karin’s left breast.

Up to the first knuckle.

“G-g-g-g-g-g-sorry—whoa!?”

He yanked his finger back in a panic, lost his balance, and crashed to the floor.

Karin, meanwhile, froze solid for a good ten seconds before stammering:

“L-l-like I said before, i-i-if you a-accidentally touched there, i-it’s fine, okay!?”

Her face was even redder than her hair.

“I-it’s n-no big deal! Y-you don’t need to apologise or anything!”

Trying and failing to act composed, she kept babbling—

—and Haruno cheerfully lobbed in a line that only made things worse.

“So you were showing Shiki-senpai that you actually have a nice figure under those clothes, huh, senpai?”

“How is that a follow-up!? Is that meant to be a compliment!?” Karin roared.

“Y-yes! Of course!”

Haruno replied cheerfully — so cheerfully that even Karin could only hold her head in her hands.

Meanwhile, Shiki was doing his best to banish the phrase “actually, I just look slimmer in clothes” from his mind.

“Uh, well… y’know… the thing is… now you get it, right? People can’t move their bodies nearly as well as they think they can.”

Karin tried to brush everything under the rug, and Shiki played along with a nod.

“Didn’t think I’d miss completely though.”

“Eh, you were probably still tired from our ‘sparring practice’ earlier…”

But saying that brought the accident back to her mind; the blush that had finally started to fade came rushing back onto Karin’s face.

She shook her head frantically, as if trying to shake the colour away — but it was a completely useless effort.

“A-anyway! The only way to learn how to move your body is to actually move it — over and over until your body memorizes it. But don’t just flail around mindlessly. The difference between moving with awareness and without it is night and day, got it?”

Setting aside her needlessly complicated phrasing, Shiki understood what she meant and nodded firmly.

“So, we’re picking the sparring practice back up. …But.”

Whether consciously or not, Karin folded her arms over her chest and continued, her voice a little shaky.

“Don’t you dare touch me again, even by accident. I’m not some kid who’ll start screaming over something like that, but that doesn’t mean I’m about to start cheapening myself either.”

Her tone and that defensive gesture made Shiki’s heart pound violently — loud enough he could almost hear it.

After one more round of “sparring practice,” that day’s fighting lesson ended. From there, it was time for Shiki’s study session.

They chose to hold the study session in the supply room, per Karin’s request — she didn’t want anyone seeing her study.

Unlike their fighting practice, which could get them in trouble if a teacher walked in, hiding to study was at least excusable.

With that in mind, they spread a mat on the floor and set up a vaulting box as a makeshift desk.

Shiki turned to Karin.
“So, Kohinata-san — which subjects are you good at, and which are you bad at?”

“Uh, well… none in particular. Not good at any, not bad at any.”

She said that, but her eyes were darting all over the place.

“I see. So you’re bad at everything equally.”

“Hey, it’s not that bad! I just sorta hover around the failing line sometimes, that’s all!”

That was already bad enough that it needed fixing at the recognition level.

“The moment you’re hovering around failing grades, Kohinata-san, that means you’re firmly in the ‘bad at it’ category.”

“No way… that can’t be…”

She looked like a betrayed hero from some tragedy.

Given that she’d been on the verge of repeating a year at St. Lukimantz Academy — a school with average scores in the 30s — Shiki tightened his focus.

“By the way, Momozono-san, what subjects are you good and bad at?”

He turned to Haruno, who sat beside Karin.

When he told Karin he’d help her study, Haruno had insisted on joining too.

That said, Shiki doubted he’d have much to teach Haruno. She was a doctor’s daughter — clumsy, sure, but clearly no delinquent — and she didn’t look like someone who struggled academically.

He assumed she just wanted harder material, maybe something a year above her level.

Then she said—

“My best subject is Health and Physical Education!”

It was such an unexpected answer that Shiki and Karin looked at each other in shock.

“W-well, I mean, she is a doctor’s daughter…”

“Y-yeah! So that’s what she meant, right?!”

Whatever “that” meant.

Seeing them panic, Haruno suddenly went, “Ah…” and blushed.

Wait. She didn’t mean it that way, did she? …She did?!

Both Shiki and Karin froze with wide eyes. They had just glimpsed a side of Haruno that perhaps should’ve stayed hidden.

“R-right! Next question! What subjects are you bad at?”

Trying to pretend nothing happened, Shiki forced the topic forward.

“Y-yeah! Let’s go with that!” Karin echoed.

But again — Haruno dropped another bomb.

“I’m bad at all the other subjects!”

They exchanged looks once more.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Shiki said hesitantly, “what was your average test score back in middle school?”

Her answer came bright and cheerful.

“When I’m doing well, I sometimes break into double digits!”

For the third time, Shiki and Karin locked eyes — this time with completely straight faces.

Karin’s grades were bad enough to be called critical, but Haruno’s were on another level — or rather, below it. Practically comatose, academically speaking.

At this point, it seemed more likely that Haruno hadn’t chosen to enroll at St. Lukimantz, but that no other school would take her.

“…Shiki. Let’s just start already.”

“…Yeah.”

Pretending again that nothing happened, they quietly began preparing for the study session.

“So, what are we starting with?”

Karin pulled out her stationery and a clipboard so she could write on the vaulting box, and looked up at him.

“I brought workbooks for Japanese, math, and English.”

He showed her the three books, and she immediately frowned.

“Those are all first-year ones. Gimme the second-year stuff.”

Hearing that confident yet clueless statement, Shiki smiled faintly — the kind of smile that might have the word “dark” attached to it.

“Kohinata-san. Someone who was barely scraping by in their first year can’t expect to suddenly handle second-year work, right?”

The unintentional intensity in his tone made Karin flinch slightly.

“R-right…”

“And besides, Momozono-san should be able to keep up with first-year material too. …Probably.”

That last word was so quiet that no one heard it.

After confirming their preferences, they decided to start with Japanese.

Since there were two students, he couldn’t have them say their answers aloud; instead, they would write them in their notebooks.

“Let’s start with this one.”

The example sentence he pointed out read:

“Tarō admitted to having an affair. Overcome with rage at that fact, Hanako ‘_____’.”

Then it asked: “Which of the following best fits the blank?”

① “Kissed Tarō”
② “Denounced Tarō”
③ “Beat Tarō to death”

The question was so absurd that only one answer was actually plausible — though that didn’t seem to help.

“Shiki-senpai! Big problem! There were only three options, but I got a ‘5!’”

“What…?”

Looking over, he froze. On Haruno’s notebook lay a pencil — one end sharpened, the other flattened for rolling.

She’d used the legendary “rolling-pencil method” to pick her answer.

There was no point lecturing her about using luck in a study session, or why she wasn’t using a mechanical pencil.

Shiki finally realised what she’d meant earlier by “sometimes I break into double digits.”

It was luck.

“Hey, Shiki. This one’s the answer, right?”

Karin held out her notebook. Shiki looked… and nearly groaned.

She’d written: “④ Punched Tarō in the gut.”

A fourth option — one that didn’t even exist.

“I couldn’t read option two, and option three’s a bit much. A gut punch feels just right.”

She nodded proudly.

Shiki stared off into the distance.

This was going to be far more difficult than he’d imagined.

He gently scolded both girls — one for relying on luck, the other for inventing her own answers — and later learned that whatever expression he’d been making at that moment was apparently scary enough for both Karin and Haruno to say,

“Uh… you look kinda scary right now.”

The Next Day

That day’s fighting lesson was, in terms of learning how to move the body, similar to the previous day — but in nature, it was entirely different.

If yesterday was about general body movement, then today was about offensive movement — namely, how to punch and kick a person.

“First, aim as high as you can and kick this thing with all your strength.”

Pointing at a freestanding sandbag in the middle of the equipment room with her iron fan, Karin gave the instruction.

Shiki stood before the sandbag, recalling the high kick Karin had once used to knock out Kawato in one blow — and hurriedly shoved the image of that white fabric he nearly remembered to the farthest corner of his mind — before delivering a roundhouse kick.

What was meant to be a high kick ended up as a perfect middle kick, just as she half-expected — but—

“Whoa! That’s amazing!”

Haruno’s voice of surprise rang out as the sandbag bounced far more violently than any of them expected.

“See what I mean? Shiki’s leg power is seriously crazy.”

Karin said, fanning herself lightly with her iron fan.

Shiki nodded. Even he, who hadn’t really understood the extent of his leg strength, could no longer deny it after seeing the sandbag swing so wildly before his eyes.

“As for how high your kicks go — just do some splits or flexibility exercises after a bath every day, and that’ll fix itself. Keep at it.”

“O-okay.”

“Alright then, next let’s see your punch.”

Shiki once again stood before the sandbag and, as Karin instructed, swung his fist with all the strength he had.

Immediately— pat! A pathetic little sound. The sandbag wobbled.

It was so weak it almost made Shiki cry.

“It’s okay! I wouldn’t even make it move at all!” said Haruno.

“Yeah, you’ll get there,” Karin added.

Their kindness hit her right in the heart.

“Anyway, power aside, whether it’s your punches or kicks, your sense of balance is off. Let’s start fixing that first.”

After that, Shiki continued striking the sandbag until his limbs were sore, and then they wrapped up the fighting lesson with three short rounds of mock sparring before moving on to their study session.

Today’s subject: math.

“Karin-senpai, the formula for the area of a triangle was ‘radius × height ÷ 2,’ right?”

“Oi oi, Haruno, ‘radius’ is for circles! For triangles it’s ‘base × height ÷ 3.’”

Listening to their disastrously wrong conversation, Shiki was — somehow — moved.

(They’ve improved. Compared to yesterday, they’re actually trying to solve problems.)

Never mind that he was praising them for simply standing at the starting line.

With a calm tone, Shiki corrected Karin’s mistake.

“Kohinata-san. The triangle’s formula is ‘base × height ÷ 2.’”

“…Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

The sound effect “Gaaaan!” might as well have played, judging by how clearly Karin slumped in despair.

Apparently, she’d been quite confident about that triangle formula.

(She’s shocked over a study mistake… good sign.)

By the time Shiki thought that, he had already been completely infected by the pair’s hopelessness.