Brushing the dirt off the hairpin, Yuki gently wiped away the soil and carefully blew off the remaining dust.
Beside him, Tomoe Koga paused, a strange flicker passing through her eyes. Looking closely, she thought, 'Yuki-kun isn't just handsome… he's really thoughtful too.'
A faint wave of affection suddenly rose in her heart, and her gaze softened with a hint of admiration. But she quickly caught herself, shaking her head lightly to scatter the thought away.
"Is this yours?" Yuki asked, holding the hairpin delicately between his fingers and presenting it to her.
"Yes! It is!" Tomoe replied, nodding as she took it. "Thank you, Yuki-kun."
"No problem," he said with a faint smile. Once she had the hairpin, he turned to leave.
"Wait…" Seeing him about to go, Tomoe hesitated for a moment, then spoke up firmly and quickly followed after him. "Yuki-kun, please give me your contact info! I'll wash this skirt and return it to you next week."
She hadn't forgotten—the skirt she was wearing now was one Yuki had borrowed from someone (or so she thought). So she needed to give it back.
"Contact info? Sure," Yuki nodded, taking out his phone to exchange details.
Only then did Tomoe remember she hadn't brought her phone with her. She gave an awkward smile. "Oh right, I left it in the classroom…"
"That's alright. As long as you remember your own ID, I can add you now. You can just accept it when you get back," Yuki said warmly.
"Ah! Right!" she replied, suddenly realizing. She then recited her contact information.
Yuki sent a friend request and a quick message. "All done. But about returning the skirt… you really don't have to."
"Why not?" Tomoe asked, puzzled. "Didn't you borrow this from someone? Don't they need it back?"
"Actually, no. This was left behind by a graduated senior. You can just keep it," Yuki explained, offering a convenient excuse.
"Huh? A senior's?" Tomoe frowned, eyeing him with a mix of doubt and curiosity.
"Yeah, she's already graduated, so she doesn't need it anymore. And don't worry—it's been washed clean, so it's perfectly fine to wear," Yuki continued calmly.
"Oh, no, that's not what I meant!" Tomoe hurriedly clarified—she wasn't worried about it being worn by someone else.
"Are you sure it's really okay?" she pressed, wanting to be certain.
"Absolutely," Yuki assured her. "Your old skirt is torn up pretty badly. Even if you fixed it, it wouldn't look great—and there's really no need. So just consider this one part of your uniform set from now on. It fits perfectly anyway."
"Alright then."
After a moment's thought, Tomoe accepted the outcome with a quiet nod.
It was just as Yuki had said—even if she tried to mend her torn skirt, the repair would be obvious and far from elegant. It really wouldn't be suitable to wear.
"In that case, it seems I owe you another favor, Yuki-kun," she murmured softly, almost without thinking.
"It's nothing. After all, I was the reason your skirt got torn in the first place," Yuki replied. "And besides..." He gave her a knowing smile.
"And besides, I didn't exactly come away empty-handed. I did get to see something quite... peachy."
His eyes held a faint, teasing glint as he looked at her.
Tomoe froze for a second, then her face flushed a deep crimson.
She remembered how she'd been stuck in the bushes, her lower half angled toward the path outside—exactly where Yuki would have been standing when he first saw her.
"Wha—!!" she cried out, her eyes wide with a mix of embarrassment and indignation. "Yuki-kun, you really are a huge pervert!!"
Yuki merely shrugged, unbothered. "Can't help it. It was right there, the first thing I saw. Quite the memorable sight, really."
"And actually, Tomoe, no need to get upset—I meant it as a compliment! Think about it—'like a peach'—that's high praise!"
He couldn't help but tease her further.
Tomoe's face was now as red as an apple, torn between shyness and annoyance. "Even so, you don't have to say it out loud! I don't want that kind of… borderline sexual harassment!"
"Alright, alright," Yuki conceded with a slight nod. "I'll keep that in mind for next time."
As they continued chatting on their way back to the school building, Yuki kept lightly teasing her, each remark making her cheeks flush and her heart flutter a little faster.
Soon, they were back in the classroom.
The afternoon classes proceeded as usual, but today's schedule included an art period.
"Yuki-kun, today's art class is going to be drawing!" chirped Marin Kitagawa, falling into step beside him as they headed to the specialized art room.
Yuki nodded. "You seem really excited, Marin. Are you good at drawing?"
"Ah?" Marin paused, her bright smile softening a bit. "Not really… I'm just average, I guess!"
She knew her own skill level well enough—perfectly ordinary. The real reason for her enthusiasm was simpler: seating wasn't fixed in art class. That meant she had a chance to sit right next to Yuki.
Following a few steps behind Yuki and the others was the blonde girl, Eriri Spencer Sawamura, watching them quietly. After observing Yuki for a moment, she seemed to reach a decision and quickly made up her mind.
In Japanese high schools, art classes are divided into different disciplines like fine arts, music, and dance. Today's lesson was fine arts, so it was held in the dedicated painting studio.
Stepping inside, the room felt nothing like the usual crowded classroom with rows of desks and chairs. Instead, it was surprisingly spacious.
A wide, open area occupied the center. Along the edges stood many fixed wooden easels with simple wooden stools beside them.
The walls were adorned with numerous framed paintings. Yuki looked closer and noticed small plaques beneath each frame, bearing the names and classes of the students. Clearly, these were exemplary works by talented pupils.
The rest of the room was furnished with shelves holding sculpting materials like stone models, along with cabinets and other supplies.
The style was clean and minimalist, yet it was saturated with an artistic atmosphere.
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