Ikki Kurogane was busy teaching, while Stella lingered nearby, jealousy sparking every time Shizuku found an opportunity to mess with her.
As for Okita Souji, she quietly slipped away. With the way that little group was so "complete," she felt like a bit of a third wheel and decided she might as well find something else to do.
Though…
"I don't really have anything to do, do I?"
Strolling along a path lined with cherry blossoms, Okita pinched her chin thoughtfully, her head tilted to the side.
Training…? Probably unnecessary.
Classes…? Even less necessary; nothing the academy taught was really suited to her.
In fact, there wasn't anyone in this entire school who could actually teach her anything.
"Now that I think about it, I wonder what Ayatsuji-senpai is up to?"
Curiosity struck her.
She'd been staying at the apartment Edelweiss had rented for a while now, and with everyone focusing on their training for the selection matches, she'd seen less and less of Ayase Ayatsuji.
Her bed was still kept in the dorm, though, and technically they were still roommates.
It took only a brief moment of hesitation before she made up her mind.
"Right, let's go find Senpai."
But… where should she start looking?
Wandering aimlessly?
That'd just be leaving it up to chance.
Okita spent a solid two minutes thinking, then smacked her forehead with a laugh.
"You idiot—just call her, why didn't I think of that?"
Leaning against a sturdy cherry blossom tree, Okita pulled out her student handbook, flipping to find Ayase's contact.
"Moshi moshi, Senpai? Have you eaten yet? What're you up to?"
After some casual small talk, Okita learned that Ayase was planning to visit her father in the hospital—Ayatsuji Kaitou.
"Need any company? I don't have much going on, just wandering around bored," Okita offered.
Senpai hesitated for a long moment, but finally agreed to Okita's suggestion.
They arranged to meet at the school gates.
Okita arrived a little early, and it took Ayase a while longer to get there, understandably, as she had taken time to prepare carefully before visiting her father.
"Sorry, Souji, did you wait long?"
Ayase jogged up when she spotted Okita from afar, apologizing for keeping her waiting.
"No, no, I've only been here a few minutes."
Okita waved it off, though suddenly something clicked in her mind, and she broke into a laugh.
Her unexpected laughter left Ayase flustered.
"W-What? Is there something weird about me?"
"No, no, it's not you, Senpai," Okita reassured her, still smiling. "I just realized our conversation sounded like something out of a novel—a scene where a couple meets up for a date."
Ayase blinked, then couldn't hold back a chuckle, pressing the back of her hand to her lips.
"It does, doesn't it?"
"So," Okita grinned, "have you ever had any experiences like that, Senpai? Like, dating a guy?"
"W-What? N-No way!" Ayase's face turned scarlet in an instant. "I-I can hardly talk to boys… how could I possibly go on a d-d… da…"
She stammered on the "d" sound, unable to get the word out, giving Okita a new understanding of her Senpai's intense shyness around men.
Glancing up, Ayase caught the teasing glint in Okita's amber eyes, and her cheeks puffed out like an indignant pufferfish.
"Souji, you tease even your Senpai?!"
"It's a misunderstanding! I swear I'm not."
Effortlessly anticipating her, Okita leaned back with a laugh, dodging Ayase's attempt to pinch her cheek.
Why do they all love grabbing my face?
"Still, these eyes did capture a great expression just now—you're pretty cute, you know."
With her hands clasped behind her back, Okita tilted her head, beaming a bright smile at Ayase, whose face only grew redder.
"Hngh…!"
Whether it was from Okita's straightforward compliment or that dazzling, heart-melting smile, Ayase felt like her heart had been pierced—not by an arrow, but by a bullet from a Barrett sniper rifle.
"And—"
Okita paused, letting the moment hang. "I'd say you seem a bit more relaxed now, Senpai."
Ayase froze for a second.
"I don't know what kind of burden you're carrying," Okita continued gently. "And I won't tell you to let it go, because I'm not you, and I can't make choices for you."
With her hands still behind her, Okita took a few steps ahead, spinning halfway around to face Ayase. Bathed in the warm, golden sunlight, her smile radiated like a beacon, lighting up Ayase's vision.
"But I want you to know, Ayatsuji-senpai, I think of you as a friend. And I want to help you. So…"
"When you face something you can't handle alone, when you feel like you've hit your limit, remember—there's always a hand here, waiting for you to reach out."
Ayase couldn't respond.
Okita's words left her speechless; it was asking too much. To ask for help… it wasn't something she could easily bring herself to do.
This was her problem, something that should have nothing to do with Okita Souji.
Dragging her junior into her own troubles—how could she keep any sense of dignity as a Senpai if she did that?
She would have to be shameless to feel okay letting Okita Souji face that terrifying person in her place.
"Let's go, Senpai."
Okita's voice pulled Ayase back to reality.
"Didn't we plan to visit Ayatsuji Kaitou-san? We should get going."
"…Yes."
Father… what am I supposed to do?
Ayatsuji Kaitou had been in a coma since a fateful match two years prior. Now, he lay in a hospital bed, receiving long-term care.
They entered a modestly sized hospital room, far less advanced than the facilities at the academy.
The figure lying on the bed, reduced to little more than skin and bones, was Ayase's father—"The Last Samurai," Ayatsuji Kaitou.
"Father, I brought my junior to visit you…"
Ayase sat on the small stool by his bed, managing a bittersweet smile.
"Father, guess what? I've made a new friend… so you don't have to worry about me being lonely at school."
She continued, recounting stories from her school life, her voice filling the room, met only by the steady "beep, beep" of the heart monitor.
Okita stood quietly behind Ayase. With Ayase's head lowered, she couldn't see her expression, but she noticed Ayase's hands clenched tightly on her lap, her fingers turning pale from the pressure.
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