During April, PE always focused on fitness tests. We did sidestepping, shuttle runs, long jumps, hundred-meter dashes, and more.

We did all the running and jumping separated by gender, but not even that could stop all the boys—in every year—from watching Fushimi when her turn arrived. Yup, even the third-years were watching us in the field through the windows.

“Hina’s amazing…”

“She’s so fast…”

I could overhear the girls’ conversations.

At the end of every test, we told each other our results.

“Ryou, you’re so bad at this,” she cheerfully laughed every time.

“I’m not that bad! I’m fifth among the boys, you know. From the bottom.”

“Ah-ha-ha. See? You’re doing terrible.”

“Hey, by my standards, that’s pretty good.”

Our relationship as old friends and class reps had made the rounds already, so no one gave us strange looks for the friendly chatter. I’d also gotten used to rekindling our friendship again after multiple days of going to and from school together.

“So why won’t she join a club?” I heard a girl ask.

That wasn’t a surprising question. Not only were her results better than mine, but her total was higher than even those of the track-and-field star and the girls in basketball, tennis, and other sports clubs.

After PE ended, one of our classmates, a girl in a ponytail, came up to me. I recognized her, but I didn’t know her name.

“Hey, Prez!”

I took two steps back, worried about my BO after all that exercise. “…I’m just class rep, not president.”

“Same difference,” she replied. “Anyway, care if I borrow Fushimi?”

“Borrow…? Why ask me? It’s not like she’s mine.”

“I know. I just want your help convincing her. We have the spring tournament coming up next weekend, and we’re missing one person to round out the team.”

What club is she in again? I wondered while listening to her. Turned out she was in the tennis club.

They would be fine as long as someone new joined the club, but the chances of that were low, and they wouldn’t be able to participate in the team matches at this rate.

“You should be asking her yourself…”

“I did, and she turned us down.”

Figures. She’s in great demand, so if she helped out even one person, she’d never see the end of it.

“Sorry. I can’t help you. You’re saying you just need to round out the team, right? You don’t really need Fushimi in that case, so maybe try asking someone else.”

“Oh, don’t say that, Prezzz!”

“I’m sure there’s tons of other people, like someone in another club or someone who used to do tennis in middle school. And if there aren’t, then just write in whoever’s name and have someone do double the work the day of the match.”

“What, do you think this is some stupid sitcom?”

“It was a joke,” I said, laughing, taking back what I’d just said.

There is absolutely no reason why it has to be Fushimi…but this girl does seem to need the help…

“She doesn’t even have to buy anything. We’ll get her the shoes, the uniform, and the racket! Pretty please?”

It’s really hard to turn her down.

Mmm… I groaned, looking for an answer, when I suddenly felt something cold on my back. I shivered and turned around.

“…?”

There’s no one there.

“? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” I shook my head. “Okay, I’ll ask her. But that’s it. I’m not convincing her. I’ll just explain the problem, tell her she can come as she is, and leave it all up to her.”

“Th-thank you! Yes, that’ll work!” She grabbed my hands and shook them with vigor. “Now that’s our prez!”

“How many times do I have to tell you I’m not president…?”

And let go of my hands already.

The cold on my back returned, even more intense. I shuddered again.

“Okay, I’m counting on you!”

She waved while leaving, then blew me a kiss. She must be really happy, huh? I can’t handle this type…

I lazily waved back, then headed to the classroom.

PE was the last class of the day. Everyone was out, going home or at clubs, leaving the classroom empty.

Now, then. Time to write whatever in the journal and go home.

Suddenly, I felt a chill on my neck again and reflexively ducked my head.

What the hell’s being going on? Am I sick or something?

“…So you’re friends with Honma.” Fushimi entered the classroom, her gym uniform neatly folded in her arms.

“Honma? Ah…that tennis girl?”

Wait. The air…the air around me suddenly went subzero!

Fushimi sat at her desk, and the cold worsened even more.

“It’s freezing!” I instinctively hugged myself.

Fushimi began putting her stuff away while pouting. Why are you sulking?

“Not like I mind. It’s none of my business who you may or may not be friendly to.”

“Sure doesn’t seem that way.”

“I don’t mind.”

What’s with the low voice?! That’s the lowest I’ve heard her go! Very fitting for this low temperature, I guess!

“A class rep shouldn’t hold hands and kiss a girl so out in the open at school. It’s scandalous.”

“Wait a second! That’s not what happened! She grabbed my hands, but that was just a handshake. And we didn’t kiss— She just blew one at me.”

It was nothing special, considering the context…although I admit both the handshake and the kiss made my heart skip a beat.

Wait, you were watching? So you’re why I’m shivering?

“You sure seemed happy, Ryou.”

Dammit, I can’t deny that. You see, I don’t have much experience interacting with girls other than you…

“Class reps should treat all classmates equally, but…this is favoritism.”

“It is not,” I retorted.

Fushimi finished preparing to go home, but instead, she stayed beside me, grumpy. Apparently, she was waiting for me.

“So are you joining the tennis club? You seemed all fired up and ready to go.”

Ah, did she get there halfway through the conversation?

I explained what happened, to resolve the misunderstanding.

“So they want you to help out so they can participate.”

“Oh. So that’s what it was all about.” The cold air started dissipating. “I really…have no choice but to turn them down…”

I get it. Otherwise, they’d never let you free. But I still didn’t understand why they were so hell-bent on asking her.

“Want me to let ’em know?”

“No, I’ll tell them myself. Thanks.”

Fushimi was in a good mood again. As she waited for me to finish writing in the journal, she rested her chin on her hand and stared at me with a smile.

“I can’t see how watching me write could be entertaining. Just play with your phone or something.”

“No, I’m fine like this.”

“You’re really nice to me, you know that?”

She helped me out during class and waited for me even though she didn’t need to.

“Y-you think so?” Her smile became wider as she giggled.

“But didn’t you just say that it’s not okay for a class rep to have favo—?”

Fushimi rushed to cut in. “Th-this is childhood-friend privilege! No worries! So… I’d be happy if I could have those privileges, too.”

I couldn’t help but blush at hearing her say that so close to my face.

“S-sure…” was all I could manage before looking away.

“Ryou, you’re red.”

“You are too.”

Laughs escaped from both of us and echoed in the empty classroom.