Ps: I know Azusa's nickname is A-chan. Don't bash me for it!!
***
A few days later, recruitment week for the school clubs officially began.
It was a hectic time for First High. New students were drawn in by the endless parade of booths, demonstrations, and flashy performances—while the Student Council and the Public Morals Committee found themselves busier than ever.
For example, Shiba Miyuki, who represented the Ichika students, had replaced Morisaki Shun after Shun was caught violating the rules by improperly using a CAD. Because of that, Miyuki was appointed as a temporary member of the Public Morals Committee. With her and the rest of the committee so swamped, their days became consumed with monitoring every corner of campus.
Mahiro, however, wasn't interested in being dragged into the Committee's work. When Erika-chan had asked him to go see the club recruitment stalls together, he figured it was a harmless way to spend the afternoon.
But when he arrived at the designated meeting place—the Class E classroom—Erika wasn't there.
"Oi… did she ditch me already?" Mahiro muttered, his tone somewhere between irritation and resignation.
He tapped open the positioning function on his mobile terminal. On the campus map, a small red dot glowed faintly, moving slowly in the direction of the sports fields. She still had her terminal switched on, which made it easy to track her.
From the windows, he could already see how the school grounds had transformed. Tents were pitched across the athletic fields, while even the pathways between the classroom buildings were lined with booths. It was almost like a festival. Bright banners fluttered, clubs shouted slogans, and the smell of food from cooking stalls wafted through the air.
Down among the crowd, Erika sighed softly to herself. "They've really gone all out this year… it's like a festival."
The words slipped out unconsciously. Realizing she was talking to herself again, Erika nearly laughed aloud.
It was a habit she had carried since childhood, one that had faded somewhat after entering First High. Back in elementary and middle school, she had often been the solitary type. Not because she disliked people—far from it. Erika's cheerful energy and striking looks allowed her to befriend anyone in an instant.
But once a friendship formed, it would often drift apart just as quickly. Erika wasn't the type who could spend every waking moment attached to someone else. She understood this about herself—she wasn't clingy, nor did she particularly crave deep bonds.
Some of her closer friends used to call her "free-spirited" or even likened her to a cat—casual, affectionate when she wanted to be, but never bound by anyone's expectations. Others, particularly those who drifted away from her, accused her of being cold or distant, "like she's up in the clouds, too high to reach."
Of course, plenty of boys pursued her too. But none ever lasted very long. Perhaps she'd inherited her mother's carefree style—doing as she pleased, with little regard for convention.
Even so, Erika knew something had been different lately. "Honestly… I've been acting a little weird."
Her thoughts wandered to Yotsuba Mahiro. Objectively speaking, she had been hanging around him more often than she normally would with any guy. She had even gone so far as to invite him to stroll around the recruitment booths together—a bold move that surprised even herself.
Normally, she'd have grown bored within a week and moved on, just like always. Yet… something about Mahiro was different.
She shook her head, brushing away the thought. Still, for some reason she had stood him up. Perhaps to test herself. Perhaps because she was nervous. Or maybe… maybe because this time felt less like a game.
…
Meanwhile, Mahiro finally reached the sports fields. The crowd was far denser than he had expected. Students from every grade level shouted over each other, waving pamphlets and trying to reel in recruits. For Mahiro, who preferred quieter places, it was nothing short of torture.
"Yare yare… too noisy." He wrinkled his nose. "And it stinks of yakisoba and sweat."
Still, his gaze was soon drawn to a commotion near the center of the field. A huge crowd of upperclassmen had formed a human wall, closing in on something—or rather, someone.
Dozens of girls were clustered together, pulling and tugging at the figure in their midst. Slender arms reached out, grabbing shoulders and even hugging at the waist. If the genders had been reversed, it might've looked like a scene straight out of a crime drama.
At first, Mahiro could only make out the silhouette. But then, sunlight glinted across a cascade of long, fiery red hair.
"…Erika?!"
There was no mistaking it—the person being tugged back and forth like a prize on display was Erika Chiba herself!
Her striking appearance and lively charm had caught the eyes of more than a few senpai. It seemed several clubs had the same idea: pulling her in as a mascot or public-relations poster girl. What started as persuasion had devolved into an outright tug-of-war.
"W-Wait! Let go of me! Baka, stop pulling!" Erika's voice carried through the crowd, distressed yet stubbornly refusing to lash out.
She could have easily broken free if she wanted—her swordsmanship training was more than enough—but she didn't want to hurt her seniors. That hesitation left her trapped in their midst, calling out in weak protests.
Then, through the small gaps in the wall of students, she spotted a familiar figure pushing forward. A tall boy, cutting through the chaos with a steady stride.
"…Mahiro-kun?"
Her heart skipped a beat. The thought rose unbidden: Is he here to save me?
Indeed, he was.
Yotsuba Mahiro had already stepped into the crowd, his expression sharp, a swirl of Psion energy gathering subtly around him. With a firm stomp of his foot, he made his presence impossible to ignore—
"—Get lost."
With a sharp stomp, the ground cracked beneath his heel. A torrent of compressed Psions erupted outward like a shockwave.
The magical storm swept across the gathered students before they even realized what had happened. The closest ones were slammed back violently, their own magic circuits overloaded. Several fainted instantly, collapsing like dominoes. Others staggered, their bodies trembling from the impact, until the wall of bodies crumbled apart.
In that instant of chaos, Mahiro rushed forward.
At the same time, Erika, seeing him break through, desperately stretched her hand out from within the disordered crowd.
Without hesitation, Mahiro reached for her and pulled her into his arms.
"Let's run."
Before Erika could even react, he bent low, scooping her legs up with practiced ease, cradling her princess-style.
"Eh—Wahhh?!"
Ignoring her shocked yelp, Mahiro moved with fluid, almost dance-like footwork, weaving between the scattered students. His movements were sharp, precise, like a swordsman slipping through the openings of an enemy formation. Without brushing against a single body, he broke free from the mob and dashed toward the shadow of the school building.
Finally, when they were far enough away, Mahiro set Erika down gently.
But the moment he did, his expression stiffened.
Her hair was a tangled mess, her blazer pulled crooked and hanging off one shoulder. Her once-pristine uniform was wrinkled all over, the tie ripped completely off and still clutched awkwardly in her hand.
Worse, with the collar undone, the pale line of her skin peeked out, sun-kissed but delicate, her collarbone faintly visible beneath.
"…Tch."
Mahiro averted his gaze, but Erika had already caught it.
"D-Don't look, baka!"
Her face flushed scarlet as she spun around, clutching her collar and hurriedly fixing her uniform. The frantic rustling of fabric filled the air between them.
"...You didn't see anything… right?"
Her voice trembled slightly, and though her back was turned, Mahiro could imagine her cheeks blazing red.
Silence.
"You did see, didn't you?!" she cried out, sulky and half-panicked.
Mahiro exhaled, shrugging helplessly. "…Yeah. I saw. Very clearly, in fact. Off-white lace—it suits you surprisingly well."
"B-Baka Mahiro!! Forget it already!"
Her shriek echoed in the empty courtyard. In her embarrassment, she spun and kicked his calf. Unfortunately, the soft tip of her shoe hardly hurt at all.
After the kick, she turned her back to him again, her movements sharp and flustered. But despite the speed, Mahiro caught a faint glimmer at the corner of her eye—tears, threatening to fall.
How pure, he thought. The girls in this era were so innocent.
In his previous life, they flaunted themselves shamelessly, almost like succubi from some Western fantasy. But here—here was something different.
A moment of quiet passed, until Erika's muffled voice reached him.
"…But… thank you, Mahiro-kun… for coming to save me."