"I'm Miku Nakano. I look forward to your help..."
The beautiful pink-haired girl initially widened her soft, weary eyes in surprise, but soon a slender smile graced her lips.
"We are quintuplets. Itsuki is my younger sister—you've met her?"
{So it's following the flow of my memories exactly? In that case...}
Izuru maintained his composure, offering a calm smile. "You could say we crossed paths. We happened to order the exact same lunch set at the cafeteria. It felt like finding a kindred spirit, so we ended up eating together."
Miku tilted her head as if deep in thought, then suddenly asked, "You didn't tell her she was a glutton, did you? Even though Itsuki loves to eat and is the most... well-rounded... of the five of us, she absolutely hates it when people call her a glutton or fat. Even when the four of us call her 'Meat Bun Monster,' she immediately starts sulking."
{Uh... well...}
Izuru's smile froze. With a hint of bitterness, he replied, "I didn't call her a glutton, but I did accidentally call her 'Meat Bun Monster.' But Itsuki has a wonderful personality, you know? Even though she was clearly upset, she held it back and even corrected me with a gentle smile."
"She held it back?"
Miku seemed to realize something. With a faint smirk, she mused, "Is that so? Itsuki was surprisingly tolerant of you, Izuru-kun. Usually, if a stranger calls her 'Meat Bun Monster' the first time they meet, she'd slam the table in a rage and hold a grudge against them for the rest of her life."
"But with you, despite the insult, she didn't explode and chose to forgive instead. It seems your personal charm is quite formidable, Izuru-kun."
Hearing Miku's words, Izuru became even more baffled by Itsuki's earlier behavior. His internal alarm bells regarding that girl notched up another level.
{This Itsuki Nakano is definitely suspicious!}
Despite his inner turmoil, Izuru kept his poker face. He quickly pivoted, "Not necessarily. Perhaps because Itsuki eats so much, she absorbs a vast amount of nutrients. Those nutrients don't just add weight; they expand her heart—making her broad-minded enough to overlook my blunder."
Faced with a remark that could be called a "conversation killer," Miku's expression turned peculiar, yet she let out a small giggle. "Izuru-kun... you have a very interesting way of speaking."
"Hahaha! Not really. Besides, your way of complimenting me is exactly like Itsuki's..." Izuru felt the awkwardness peaking, but he couldn't show weakness. He had to maintain his status as a "pro driver"!
"Anyway, you were trying to buy a drink before the machine ate your money, right? Let me handle this. Step back a bit."
Miku nodded. As if sensing exactly what Izuru intended to do, she didn't ask questions and obediently retreated a fair distance, watching him with an encouraging gaze.
Seeing how understanding Miku was, Izuru felt a soft spot in his heart being touched. The awkwardness vanished, replaced by a surge of energy. He felt motivated—driven by an extra boost of spirit to help her.
With that thought, Izuru decided to leave a lasting impression. He stood before the vending machine, dropping into a fighter's stance, and then...
*THWACK!*
The legendary 45-degree Grandmother's Kick!
The vending machine, reeling from the heavy impact, emitted a solid groan before "sincerely" vomiting out two bottles of matcha soda and a handful of change. One had to wonder if the machine had gained sentience and developed a masochistic streak.
"Two bottles of matcha soda? You're that fond of this kind?" Izuru asked curiously as he handed the two bottles and the change from the masochistic machine to Miku.
"I don't recall many people being fans of matcha soda..."
"It's true, it's not a popular choice. But precisely because so few like it, doesn't that make those few people seem unique?" Miku smiled enchantingly. She took only one bottle from Izuru's hand, leaving the other in his grasp.
"This bottle is for you, as a thank you!"
"Uh, I..." Izuru's awkwardness came rushing back. He opened his mouth to speak, but Miku cut him off.
"The five of us are transferring here tomorrow. When that time comes, I hope you'll look after us, Mr. Student Council President."
With that, Miku acted as if she hadn't seen Izuru's "I-have-something-to-say" face. She offered a small smile, clutched her matcha soda, and turned to walk away with a light, airy step toward the exit.
Izuru stared at the bottle in his hand, then at Miku's retreating back. He reached an arm out into the air, his expression looking like he wanted to scream.
{I... I'm allergic to matcha, you know!!!}
To Izuru, the taste of matcha soda was like... like being lonely in the middle of the night and preparing to "fire a shot," only to have a bottle of medicated oil spill entirely over the heated "cannon barrel." It was a cold that pierced the very soul!
Even if he wasn't literally allergic, the taste alone was enough to make him feel like he was!
But alas, since it was a sincere gift from Miku, throwing it away felt wrong. He'd just take it home; perhaps in a quiet moment, he could look at it to remember this "beautiful" encounter.
Izuru shook his head with a wry smile. At the same time, he felt lucky he hadn't mentioned the allergy. If he had, Miku—who clearly adored the drink—would have likely hated him. Even if she didn't, a drop in favorability would have been inevitable.
Realizing this, Izuru cursed his "Super High School Level" talent for its inability to muzzle his poisonous tongue. With a sigh of relief and a hint of happiness, he walked toward the Student Council room, carrying Miku's gift.
{Miku was smooth sailing. But that Itsuki part... really suspicious. I need to think this over...}
What Izuru failed to see was Miku, now at a distance, wearing a triumphant smile. She pumped her right fist in front of her chest as if celebrating a solo victory. After all...
{Sorry, Itsuki. I can't let you have a head start all by yourself. We have to compete fairly...}
{So, don't blame me if I'm the one who wins the opening move...}