If this were the old Izuru, he wouldn't have spared a thought for what others thought. In fact, if he received a love letter from a girl, he'd probably flaunt it with enough suicidal arrogance to make the entire school want to bury him.
But things were different now. At his side stood the ever-vigilant, ever-envious Yukino. While he wasn't entirely certain of the exact nature of her feelings for him, the "shared umbrella" incident from this morning had taught him one absolute truth: Yukino loathed it when other girls swarmed him!
The male students weren't the real problem. If they tried to start something, Izuru had enough physical stamina to flatten the entire student body single-handedly; numbers meant nothing to him. The real danger lay in the high school rumor mill—a force far more potent and toxic than a group of village gossips. They would take these two pink envelopes, season the story with lies, and spread it like wildfire.
If that happened, it wouldn't matter if the letters were written by a total stranger, a burly weightlifter, a cute girl, or a feminine boy—it would be game over. At least for Izuru, it felt like the end of the world!
The first two possibilities would leave him a social pariah for the rest of high school, while the latter two would likely result in Yukino delivering a "correction" he wouldn't soon forget—or worse, she might "humanely erase" the letter writer from existence!
That was why Izuru had staged his little performance. To be fair, 90% of what he said was his honest opinion, so it wasn't a total lie. Yet, he still harbored a tiny, meaningless shred of hope—clinging to that one-in-ten-thousand probability.
{What if they really are from two cute girls? Should I accept? No, absolutely not. As a high school student with a heavy academic burden, how could I prioritize romance? I should prioritize my studies. Only studying matters; love is a degenerate path. But if it's true, how do I handle it? This is so confusing.}
Quickly tearing open the first ambiguous pink envelope, Izuru displayed the classic inner turmoil of a "perennial single" while blissfully ignoring the metaphorical execution dock waiting for him.
"Hah... hah... hah!"
Taking three or four deep lungfuls of air, Izuru eagerly unfolded the paper and scanned the contents.
"President, I can no longer restrain my desire to seek you out..."
{Good god, so aggressive? Not bad, Young Lady. You seem to be the 'hungry wolf' type.}
Seeing such a provocative opening, Izuru's eyes nearly popped out of his head. He feverishly read on.
"Even though I know this will trouble the President, I beg of you to spare some of your precious time to help me..."
Izuru blinked. Help with what? Could it be that at night she felt lonely and couldn't control her own hands? That she felt self-comfort wasn't enough and needed him to assist? This... this was far too stimulating!
"Gulp!"
Izuru couldn't help but swallow hard. His breathing quickened as he reached the conclusion, and then...
"Are you kidding me!?"
He couldn't stop himself from cursing out loud.
"If possible, please come to the tennis club for a moment. I wish to ask the President how to improve my tennis skills. Of course, it would be even better if Yukinoshita-san could join us, as Okita-kun said you are both exceptionally skilled at teaching others how to play."
Signed—Totsuka Saika!
Izuru slapped his forehead in resignation. The storm in his heart instantly turned into a calm, dead pool. Of course. No wonder it was in the boys' locker room; the writer was a "boy" through and through. Did this mean "love letters" and "confessions" were still light-years away for a senior cadre of the FFF Battalion like him?
Shaking his head in amusement, Izuru found his interest in the second letter plummeting. Thanks to Saika's letter delivering a mental cold-shower, his brain was now operating on the assumption that the second one was also from a boy—perhaps a thank-you note from Hikawa Okita.
Nevertheless, he opened it. Regardless of who wrote it or whether it was a prank, reading it was a matter of basic respect. Whether the other party respected him was a separate issue.
However, as he unfolded the second paper and read the words, Izuru's pupils shrank to pinpricks. His expression shifted to one of pure disbelief, and his hands began to tremble slightly. He murmured under his breath:
"This... what is the meaning of this?"
The second letter had no signature. No sender at all. There was no way to tell if it was a fact or a cruel joke. But one thing was certain: the letter contained no romantic sentiment whatsoever. It consisted of only a single, short sentence.
Yet, that sentence delivered a psychological shock so massive that Izuru found himself reading it over and over, his emotions swirling out of control. The line read:
"Nakano Itsuki is a Returner!"
◆━⊰✿✧✿⊱━◆
Locker Room.
"Achooo!"
Itsuki—whose figure was prominent enough to earn the envy and spite of nearly every girl in school—suddenly sneezed while changing into her gym clothes under the sharp gazes of her peers. For some reason, she felt a surge of malice so intense it made her spine tingle. It left her feeling confused and uneasy.
"I don't know why, but I suddenly feel very uncomfortable. Like I've just been set up by someone, but I have no idea how..."
Just then, a pink-haired girl whose face was a 90% match for Itsuki's—and whose figure was equally impressive—finished changing into her gym clothes. Noticing Itsuki, she flashed a wide, cheerful, and slightly innocent smile. Waving energetically, she jogged over.
"Itsuki, Itsuki! You have P.E. this period too!"
This girl was, of course, one of the Nakano quintuplets. Who else could sport a smile that iconic during gym class if not Yotsuba—the girl who had once shared a "fateful encounter" in a storage shed with Izuru!
"Yotsuba? It turns out your class and mine are scheduled together? That's great!"
Seeing her closest sister—the one with the least amount of malice in her heart—Itsuki immediately let out a relieved smile. She quickly finished changing and waved back.
As for that strange, lingering feeling from a moment ago, Itsuki pushed it far into the back of her mind.
After all, there was no way her identity as a Returner had already been exposed... right?
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