Okita Souji and Ayase Ayatsuji were having a perfectly harmonious time as Ayase offered her fruit, but they weren't the only ones in the room.
"Hmph! How can you just ignore your dear teacher like this? Here you are, flirting away without a care in the world. I could use some fruit too, you know! Sob…"
"Yeah, well, this fruit was a gift from my roommate, so I think it's safe to say you don't deserve any of it!" Okita replied, swallowing her orange segment before addressing Yuuri Oreki, who was lying in the bed beside her. "And by the way, saying 'sob' out loud doesn't make you sound even slightly sad."
"A comeback that sharp… As your teacher, I have to say, I'm very proud of you, Okita."
"Are you seriously trying to teach me the art of snark?"
Watching a patient who supposedly needed to lie down to recover, yet was chatting with more energy than her, Ayase felt… complicated.
"Uh… maybe I'm intruding here. The fruit basket's been delivered, so maybe I should just leave…"
"No, wait! You can't leave!"
Senpai, don't abandon me! If you leave, I'll be stuck here alone with my teacher!
All the worst memories of being left alone with teachers flashed through her mind. It always meant a scolding, a call to her parents, or a stern "reflect on your behavior" session. They'd left a deep, dark shadow on her soul!
In a split second, Okita wrapped her arms around Ayase's waist, looking up at her with teary eyes. "Please don't go, Senpai… what will I do if you leave me alone here?"
Ayase didn't quite understand what Okita meant by "what will I do if you leave?"
But… she was feeling warm and fuzzy inside.
"Okita's depending on me!"
With a happy smile, Ayase sat back down, pulling Okita's head into her lap and cooing, "There, there, Senpai's right here. Don't cry, now."
…Where did she get the idea I was going to cry?
After a moment of quiet pondering, Okita snuggled her face into Ayase's lap.
Ah, well… this is fine.
Watching the two of them nestled together, Yuuri Oreki suddenly fell silent.
She had only been teasing when she'd said they were "flirting," but now… it was looking suspiciously accurate.
Could it be… two girls, though? Is that really okay?
She rubbed her eyes vigorously and looked again. Now the cozy, sisterly vibe was back, and she breathed a sigh of relief.
At least now it looks normal.
Being stuck in the infirmary wasn't easy for someone as energetic as Okita, but thankfully Ayase kept her company, occasionally feeding her slices of fruit.
Though she wasn't the Lion King, Ayase was still a "Takeuchi Face," so she likely had quite the appetite too… right?
With each shared story and bite of fruit, the two grew closer, learning more about each other.
"Kaito Ayatsuji…"
Through their conversation, Okita learned that name.
Kaito Ayatsuji was Ayase's father, and when she spoke of him, Ayase lifted her head, meeting Okita's gaze with pride and admiration as she recounted his deeds.
Although he couldn't wield magic and possessed no special abilities, he could defeat criminals with powers, earning the title of the "Last Samurai."
How impressive. If Ikki Kurogane was treated as worthless just for having F-ranked magic, then what about Ayase's father, who wasn't even a Blazer? They probably wouldn't even consider him that much.
In a world that valued magic so highly, it must have been an act of immense courage for an ordinary person to pick up a weapon against a Blazer.
Something told Okita that Ikki and this "Last Samurai" would have a lot to talk about.
Ayase's face was lit with pride as she spoke of her father, her steady stream of words making it hard for Okita to imagine her as the timid girl she'd met just yesterday. But after a moment, something seemed to darken her expression, and her tone grew more restrained, her gaze lowering.
She told Okita only this: "Two years ago, my father was in an accident and has been in a coma ever since."
Just an accident?
If it were only an accident, then why such a look in her eyes?
Pain, regret, sorrow… and anger.
If it were truly just an accident, then who did you intend that anger to burn?
Eventually, Ayase left, though Okita didn't stop her this time.
Her excuse was that she wasn't feeling well. Honestly, if you don't want others to worry, maybe work on your acting skills.
A clumsy cover-up like that… only makes people worry more.
"Aren't you going to comfort her?"
Yuuri Oreki's voice startled Okita, who looked over at her.
"…I'm not very good at comforting people," she replied after a moment. "Most of the time, I'm better at listening and being there. Besides…"
Okita's gaze drifted to the window, where a light breeze had slipped into the room, ruffling the curtains. The sunlight, softened by clouds, mingled with the breeze just right.
"…She's been enduring this on her own for two years. She's strong enough that she doesn't need comforting, especially not from someone she's only known for a day."
Okita stared out the window for a long time, watching the sun drift in and out of the clouds. Finally, she looked back, her amber eyes steady as a lake as she met Yuuri's gaze.
"Sensei, I'd like to know more about Kaito Ayatsuji."
"Ayatsuji probably told you about him herself, didn't she?"
"I meant the full story, not the pieces she chose to tell."
Ah… what a gaze that was.
Like a lake reflecting starlight, like amber preserving ancient memories.
Why did I become a teacher in the first place?
Looking into those eyes, Yuuri Oreki couldn't help but smile.
Maybe it was for moments like these, to see eyes as beautiful as hers.
Because I have never felt more grateful to my past self for becoming a teacher.
"Okita, are you always this meddlesome? Do you want to be some kind of hero of justice?"
"Oh, no, spare me that," Okita chuckled, waving her hand dismissively. "I steer clear of those things. If everyone in this world was divided into good and evil, I'd probably end up on the 'evil' side."
But after a slight pause, she added,
"…Still, with something like this unfolding right in front of me, there's no way I could just sit back and do nothing."
"Besides…"
She tilted her head, letting her hand rest lightly on the basket of fruit beside her bed.
"If I don't do something, it'll spoil the taste of this fruit."
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