The neon lights of the karaoke booth flickered across Kei Karuizawa's face as she set down her phone. Satō Maya immediately leaned in, nudging her shoulder playfully.
"Oho~ Was that Shimizu-kun again?" Maya blinked teasingly. "Checking up on you? Since when did you two start... y'know?"
A flicker of discomfort crossed Karuizawa's face. "Don't be ridiculous. It was just... boxing club stuff."
Beside her, Matsushita Chiaki tactfully interjected: "Shimizu-kun is part of the boxing club too, right? And Kei-chan just joined as manager. It's probably club business."
"Exactly!" Karuizawa seized the excuse, hurriedly unlocking her phone again. "Ah, I need to message Satō-senpai to apologize for missing practice..."
Satō Maya flopped back into the couch with an exaggerated sigh. "You're always running off to that club. We barely dragged you out today! Admit it—you only joined because of Shimizu-kun, didn't you? But he barely even glances your way. Just quit already!"
Mori Nene's off-key screech of a high note drowned out Karuizawa's nearly inaudible sigh.
As she typed out her apology text—
[Satō-senpai, this is Karuizawa. I'm sorry for missing practice today...]
—her thumb unconsciously hovered over "Shimizu Akira" in her call log.
(Honestly... it's not like he shows up regularly either. Sure, the captain gave him special privileges, but it still feels unfair.)
She bit her lip.
Joining the boxing club hadn't been a whim. Even as a manager, the workload rivaled the actual members':
Arriving 30 minutes early to inventory equipment.
Meticulously cleaning every piece of gear post-practice.
Monitoring water supplies and tracking absent members.
Just these chores ate up over an hour daily.
Today, she'd planned to attend as usual—until Satō Maya ambushed her between classes, whining until she caved.
Maybe, just maybe, there'd also been a hint of spite toward Shimizu Akira's spotty attendance.
When his call came, she'd thought—
(...But of course. It was just about the club.)
Her finger froze mid-air above the screen.
(...I never wanted to join in the first place.)
The boxing club had been Shimizu Akira's idea—a "plausible cover" for his so-called protection.
(A figurehead role should've been enough. Why do I have to go every day?)
For obscure clubs, ghosting might've worked. But the boxing club?
As the school's flagship organization, its military-grade discipline meant three unexcused absences = expulsion.
Yet—
(With Shimizu's pull with the captain... I'll be fine, right?)
A smirk tugged at her lips as she finalized her text:
[Satō-senpai, due to health reasons, I request a week's leave...]
The moment she hit send, Mori Nene's voice cracked spectacularly—making Satō Maya howl with laughter.
Tossing her phone into her bag, Karuizawa reveled in this small rebellion.
(This entitlement... must be another perk of our 'contract.')
Her hand paused mid-reach for her drink.
Matsushita Chiaki was staring at her with an unreadable expression—some hybrid of concern and hesitation.
"Chiaki? What's with that look?" Karuizawa forced a giggle, patting her cheeks. "Do I have something on my face?"
This wasn't new. During tests or when she cranked up her "airhead" act, Chiaki often watched her like this—as if seeing straight through the facade.
(Does she... know something?)
She crushed the thought instantly.
Matsushita Chiaki was middling academically and notoriously reserved.
(I'm overthinking it.)
"Nothing." Chiaki handed her an iced orange juice. "You just seem... tired lately."
Condensation dripped onto Karuizawa's wrist—icy, like the pit in her stomach.
"Ahaha~ Maybe managing the boxing club's been draining." She rattled the ice cubes. "Hence this well-deserved break!"
Chiaki's fingers brushed her hand. "Relax today. About last month's borrowed points... we agreed you don't need to rush repayment. Today's bill is on us."
"Eh? I couldn't possibly—" Karuizawa's nails dug into her palm.
The chorus swelled, masking Chiaki's lowered voice:
*"We've all noticed you borrowing points left and right. This month's 45,000-point deduction hit us hard too. This outing... might be our last splurge."*
The straw between Karuizawa's teeth bent.
Satō Maya and Mori Nene's laughter over the mic now sounded jarringly shrill.
"I don't know where your points are going..." Chiaki murmured. "But don't skip club too long. The boxing club's prestige opens doors here. If trouble comes... those upperclassmen will shield you. Given this school's... unique rules, having that backing is vital."
"I~ know!" Karuizawa singsonged, nudging her. "Geez, Chiaki, you're such a mom sometimes!"
She grabbed her phone—
The "Read" receipt glared back.
Satō-senpai's reply sat stark in the chat:
[Understood.]
Yet instead of relief, dread coiled tighter in her chest—especially when her peripheral vision caught her remaining balance:
[Personal Points: 12,000]