Let it be known that Youka Academy’s cafeteria does not serve food they serve gourmet art pieces that happen to be edible.
During lunch, I sat across from Haruka, weeping real tears over a truffle-infused egg salad sandwich that cost more than my entire monthly electricity bill in my past life.
Reincarnation had its perks.
If I was going to be an NPC, at least I was a well-fed NPC.
"Kurogane-san, you're doing that thing again,"
Haruka said, giggling as she reached over with a napkin.
"You look like you're having a religious experience with a sandwich."
"Hinata-san, you don't understand,"
I said solemnly, chewing with the reverence of a monk.
"In my past life—er, I mean, yesterday—I survived on instant ramen and sheer willpower. This sandwich is my new religion. I would fight a male lead for this."
Haruka's smile softened, but then she suddenly leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands.
Her amber eyes locked onto mine, giving off a dangerously high concentration of pure Heroine Magnetism.
"Speaking of fighting... you're really going to the archery range after school? With Shizuku-senpai?"
"I have to,"
I whimpered, swallowing hard.
"If I stand up a girl that beautiful, my soul will literally evaporate from the shame.
It’s a medical fact.
Haruka pouted.
A literal, genuine anime pout.
It was so cute I almost choked on my truffle egg.
"But I wanted to show you the library after school! You said you liked looking at the rare illustrations in the historical section..."
Ding!
[HEROINE IS ATTEMPTING A LUNCHTIME EVENT: 'BOYCOTT THE SENPAI'! INTIMACY BONUS INBOUND!]
"Don't worry, Hinata-san!"
I blurted, my inner lesbian panicking at the sight of a sad pretty girl.
"We can go to the library tomorrow! I'll read every boring history book in this building with you, I swear!"
Haruka's face instantly brightened into a radiant, world-saving smile.
"Yay! It's a promise, Korogane-san"
Haruka looks so cute.
The otome game engine inside my head was throwing error codes left and right.
The male leads were supposed to get the first-name privilege by Chapter 4, and here I was speeding through the heroine's route like a glitching speedrunner.
Fast forward to after school.
I stood at the entrance of the traditional wooden archery dojo, clutching my gym uniform like a shield.
The sharp, rhythmic thwack of arrows hitting targets echoed through the air.
Inside, the archery club members were lined up, but my eyes instantly locked onto the center lane.
Shizuku Fuyumi was in her white hakama and black hakama skirt.
She drew her traditional wooden bow with absolute, terrifying grace.
Her posture was so perfect it belonged in a museum.
She released the string.
THWACK.
Dead center.
Bullseye.
"Wow,"
I whispered, my jaw hitting the polished wooden floorboards.
"She really is a masterpiece, isn't she?"
"Gah!"
I jumped three feet into the air, my gym clothes flying out of my hands.
Catching my clothes with one elegant hand was Kizari Shiori.
The golden-haired noble girl was sitting on the engawa porch, sipping matcha from an impossibly expensive ceramic bowl.
She wasn't even in the club she was just lingering there like a beautiful, wealthy ghost.
"Kazari-senpai?! What are you doing here?!"
I gasped, trying to look dignified while failing miserably.
"I came to watch the entertainment, of course,"
Shiori purred, handing my clothes back with a wink that gave me a localized heart attack.
"Fuyumi doesn't usually invite underclassmen to her personal practice. Especially not... colorful ones like you."
Before I could explain that my colorful nature was just a byproduct of a fried nervous system, Fuyumi lowered her bow and turned toward us.
Her silver hair was tied back in a high ponytail, exposing the elegant line of her neck.
"You're five minutes early, Korogane,"
Fuyumi said, her icy voice carrying across the dojo.
"Good. Come here."
I walked over on legs that felt like overcooked noodles.
Up close, Fuyumi was towering and majestic.
She handed me a spare bow.
It was heavy.
Like, shockingly heavy.
"Let me see your stance,"
Fuyumi commanded.
I gripped the bow, raised my left arm, and tried to mimic what I had seen in the game's SSR card illustrations.
I pulled the string back, my muscles instantly screaming in protest.
Why didn't I level up my Strength stat before I died?!, I spent all my points on Charisma and Luck!
My arms started shaking like a malfunctioning washing machine.
My left foot slipped on the polished wood.
"Uh, Senpai? I think gravity is broken in this specific corner of the room—"
Suddenly, a cool, firm presence pressed against my back.
Fuyumi stepped directly behind me.
Her long, slender hands wrapped over mine on the bow, her fingers adjusting my grip.
Her chest was pressed against my shoulder blades, and she leaned in so close her silver hair brushed against my cheek.
She smelled like mint and crisp winter air.
"Your shoulders are too tense,"
Fuyumi murmured right into my ear.
Her breath sent a violent jolt of electricity straight down my spine.
"Lower them. Breathe."
BREATHE?! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO BREATHE WHEN THE SCHOOL GODDESS IS CONVERTING ME INTO A HUMAN BACKREST?!
From the porch, Shiori giggled into her matcha bowl, watching my face turn a shade of red that outperformed a standard fire engine.
"Like this,"
Fuyumi guided my hands, pulling the string back effortlessly.
Her touch was incredibly steady, anchoring my trembling arms.
"Focus on the target. Don't look at anything else."
I couldn't focus on the target.
The target was fifty yards away.
Fuyumi's perfect face was three inches away.
Dear diary: I am currently experiencing the holy grail of otome game tropes: the [BACK-HUG EMBRACE: COACHING EDITION]. Except it's with the icy silver-haired senpai, and my soul is rapidly leaving my body again.
If I die of a Yuri-induced heart attack in Chapter 3, please tell Haruka I'm sorry about the library tomorrow.
"Now,"
Fuyumi whispered, her fingers loosening over mine.
"Release."