The morning dragged on as usual, except for the fact that a certain "Russian princess" was in a spectacularly foul mood.
The teacher began explaining historical periods, key dates, and ancient battles, but Isagi could barely follow. Not because the material was hard, but because the atmosphere beside him was… heavy. Like an entire winter compressed into a single desk.
Alya kept her eyes fixed on the open textbook in front of her, yet she never turned the page. Every now and then she shifted her legs or tucked a strand of hair behind her ear—small, nervous movements that were far too obvious to miss. Yet her face remained flawlessly cold.
Isagi tried to strike up a conversation. Once. Twice. First, he discreetly pointed at her book, offering to share his page marker. Then he made a neutral comment about something the teacher had just explained.
Her replies were ice-cold.
He could respect her attempt to look strong, but it was impossible not to notice how her eyes darted away from his face whenever eye contact lasted more than two seconds. She was still hurt. And worse—she was trying not to let it show.
Throughout the first two periods, Alya maintained exactly the same behavior: polite enough not to seem hostile, cold enough to punish Isagi in silence. And whenever the teacher turned her back, Alya muttered something in Russian—barely audible.
Isagi, as always, pretended he didn't understand.
But it was hard to ignore words that, even without a literal translation, overflowed with frustration.
When the break finally arrived, he almost jumped up to talk to her again. But Alya was faster. With a smooth motion she gathered her things, stood, and left the classroom without looking back. A silent goodbye, adorned with wounded pride.
Isagi gave up on following.
If he tried to talk now, she'd probably freeze the entire hallway.
In the cafeteria, the mood was completely different.
Kuze and Oreki had already claimed a quiet table, as usual, and Isagi joined them. Within minutes, his teammates Tada and Takeshi showed up with overflowing trays and even bigger smiles.
The place filled with laughter, game talk, strategy discussions, and Oreki's lazy complaints about how many extracurricular activities a normal human should have to do (zero, in his opinion). Kuze listened with his arms crossed, tossing in the occasional sharp comment. Tada was loud, Takeshi over-the-top, but Isagi liked it.
For a few moments, he almost forgot about the emotional hurricane named Alya.
Almost.
When afternoon classes started, he walked back with Marin at his side, the two of them casually chatting in the hallway about cosplay, needles, fabrics, and some new ideas she'd come up with since last night. Marin gestured enthusiastically, her blonde hair bouncing with every motion, and Isagi smiled calmly as he replied.
And it was right in the middle of that far-too-comfortable conversation, as they turned the corner, that they ran into Alya.
It lasted only a second.
But one second was enough for everything to stop.
The girl who was about to enter the classroom. When her ice-blue eyes met Isagi and Marin walking side by side, something shifted.
Her face didn't flinch, but her gaze…
Her gaze turned colder than before.
As if Siberia itself had decided to give its personal opinion on the scene.
Alya said nothing. She simply looked away with a precision too calculated to be natural and walked into the classroom as though nothing had happened.
Marin blinked, confused.
"Whoa… did anyone else feel a cold breeze just now, or am I going crazy?"
Isagi just sighed.
The rest of the afternoon was an endless trail of tiny Russian barbs.
Alya sat perfectly straight, her eyes far too focused for someone supposedly paying attention to class. But every time Isagi moved beside her—grabbing his pencil, turning a page, adjusting his chair—she muttered something quick, low, venomous, and hurt in her native tongue.
"Отвратительный…"
"Предатель…"
"Ненавижу…"
("Disgusting…")
("Traitor…")
("I hate you…")
Of course she didn't hate him.
And of course she wanted him to hear it.
But she didn't want to say it in Japanese so he'd fully understand how upset she was.
Isagi kept his expression as neutral as possible.
A few classmates even noticed something weird was going on. Two or three glanced at Isagi as if he'd committed an unforgivable crime against the class's Russian princess.
And, in a way…
From her point of view…
He had.
When the final bell rang, Isagi felt like he'd survived something. He wasn't sure what. But he felt it.
Alya closed her books, silently packed everything away, stood up, and left without looking at him.
Marin called from the door, waving with her usual bright smile—since they lived close by, she wanted to walk home together.
Alya passed by at that exact moment.
And whispered once more, softly, too pained to truly be ice:
"Предатель…"
("Traitor…")
And she was gone before he could respond.
Or before he could make things even worse.
Isagi let out a long, exhausted sigh—one of those that slips out without permission, heavy with all the day's emotional baggage. He ran a hand through his hair, tilting his head slightly as he stared at the backpack on his desk.
There were still a bunch of unread love letters in there. For a moment his heart clenched with a silent stab of panic.
Thank goodness Alya hadn't seen them.
If she had… the classroom mood would've gone from "emotional Siberia" to "full-on Ice Age with extinction-level potential." The only silver lining to her bad mood was that she was so busy being proud and hurt that she hadn't noticed what he'd hurriedly stuffed under his jacket when class began.
After packing his books, Isagi zipped up his bag quickly, as if hiding that pile of confessions could magically solve all his problems.
He stood, slung the backpack over his shoulder, and walked toward Marin, who was waiting at the door with a big, cheerful smile… completely oblivious to the emotional chaos behind him.
"So, Isagi-kun, ready to go?"
He took a deep breath. His smile was gentle, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"Kitagawa-san… sorry. I think I'm going to be late today. A friend asked me to take care of some student council stuff."
The light in her face dimmed. Marin was as transparent as water—every emotion always showed on the surface. Her shoulders slumped a little, and her smile shrank, becoming small and almost resigned.
"Oh… really? That's okay, then." She tried to sound cheerful, but the disappointment was obvious and unavoidable. "I'll go with the girls. See you tomorrow, Isagi-kun!"
Isagi gave a small wave.
"See you tomorrow, Kitagawa-san."
As she disappeared around the corner with her friends, Isagi's gaze unfocused for a second. He let out another sigh, pulled out his phone, and the screen lit up his face with cold light. He opened the chat with "Yuki," the one who'd asked him to come to the student council early, and quickly typed again asking why she needed him and whether it would take long.
Yuki replied instantly, as if she'd been waiting all day. The student council apparently needed to buy some supplies, but she couldn't do it herself because something urgent had come up. So she'd asked him to go in her place.
Pretty please? You're my favorite friend in the whole wide world ♡♡♡
"..."
He got annoyed at how blatantly she was buttering him up, but he was mentally too drained to fight it. Besides, why hadn't she asked her lazy brother Kuze for help? He'd probably dodged it as usual—completely unreliable…
"Yeah, I'm coming. I'm coming, but…" Isagi muttered as he typed: I already promised earlier, remember? I always keep my promises, but you owe me one…
Yippeeeee! You're the best! ♡
Isagi smiled faintly at the flood of heart emojis, then pocketed the phone and headed to the student council room.
It didn't take long to get there.
"Anyone here?"
After knocking, Isagi stepped inside and found two people already waiting. One was Touya Kenzaki, the student council president, who looked up with a satisfied grin the moment he saw him.
"Yo, Isagi-kun! You finally showed up." He crossed his arms and leaned against the desk like he'd been waiting all day. "Didn't get a chance to congratulate you yesterday on crushing Minamida. So—congrats on the win…"
Isagi blinked and closed the door behind him. "Thanks. I just did what I had to do."
Touya let out a short, genuine laugh.
"'Just did what I had to do,' huh? You say that like you barely passed a test, not like you humiliated an entire team." He shook his head, amused. "Seriously, Isagi-kun. It was insane. The crowd was losing it. Even I—who doesn't usually yell—ended up screaming, 'ANOTHER ONE, THE MONSTER!'"
Isagi raised an eyebrow.
"You actually yelled that?"
"Of course I did. You think I'm made of stone?" Touya shrugged. "When your friend scores seven goals, you yell. It's the law."
Isagi exhaled lightly, but a real smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Thanks. It was… fun."
"Fun for you," Touya shot back, laughing. "For the Minamida guys? I bet they'll be having nightmares about you kicking the ball for the next two weeks…"
"But anyway, back to business. Thanks for coming to help again."
"Don't thank me. I'm just covering for Yuki since she asked."
Isagi then shifted his gaze to the other person in the room. He'd noticed her earlier, but only now did he really look at her.
Maria Mikhailovna Kujou.
He recognized her instantly—he'd seen her from afar a few times, though they'd never exchanged a single word. She stood there with that gentle, welcoming posture that seemed completely natural to her, the soft light of the room highlighting her fair skin. Her shoulder-length wavy hair fell in light chestnut strands that framed her young, sweet, almost childlike face. There was something pure about her, an angelic aura reflected in her soft cheeks and full lips, slightly parted as if about to release a delicate sigh.
But it was her eyes that truly caught him.
Almond-shaped, warm, deep brown eyes—so inviting they seemed to beckon him closer. There was no coldness or distance; only tenderness, sweetness, a gentleness that reminded him of a madonna who embraces and protects. Yet behind that softness was an almost imperceptible glint…
And then Isagi's gaze drifted downward—not on purpose, but because it was simply impossible not to notice.
He swallowed hard.
Oh… God…
For a second he honestly wondered if he was standing in front of a goddess.
Because, honestly… it felt like it.
It was the first time he'd seen her this close. Her full, heavy breasts pressed against the fabric of her uniform, round and voluptuous, exuding an infinite softness, curves that rose with natural gravity, practically begging to be touched, to be held, to be felt warm and heavy in his palms. Her wide hips flared out from a slim waist, creating a breathtaking hourglass figure that left his mouth dry…
Noticing his stare, Touya opened his mouth to speak—but Maria was faster.
In one fluid motion she stepped forward, arms open as if they'd known each other for years. Before Isagi could process it, her body pressed against his in a warm, soft, almost suffocating embrace. Her ample breasts pushed firmly and hotly against his chest, the thin fabric of her uniform doing nothing to contain the plush softness that molded perfectly to his torso. He felt her warmth seep through their clothes, her light scent of vanilla and wildflowers flooding his senses, mixed with the natural sweet, almost edible aroma of her skin.
"At last… I have my Saa-kun all to myself…"
Her voice came out in a husky, honeyed whisper, dripping with an intimacy that made no sense. One of her hands slid up his back to the nape of his neck, delicate fingers threading through his short hair, while the other pressed possessively yet gently against his waist.
Touya froze, mouth still open, eyes wide as if he'd been punched by an invisible fist.
Isagi, meanwhile, went completely rigid. His brain short-circuited between shock and the overwhelming sensation of her body against his.
Saa-kun? Why did that nickname feel so… familiar…?
________________________
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