[Third Person Pov]
Clark watched as Komi and Lala disappeared through the double doors leading toward the girls' locker room, their laughter echoing faintly down the hallway. He lingered behind, dragging his feet just enough to put some distance between himself and the group. The bitter, ashy taste still clung stubbornly to his tongue. He grimaced, trying to swallow it away without much success.
"Here…"
Clark turned his head at the sound of a soft voice beside him. Yotsuba stood there, holding out a water bottle with a casual but deliberate gesture. Droplets of condensation glistened on its surface under the fluorescent hallway lights. He stared at her for a long moment, blinking in mild surprise, before managing a confused, "Huh?"
"I saw what you did for them back there," Yotsuba said, her expression straight and unreadable, though her eyes held a glint of something sharper. "I thought it was pretty nice of you, all things considered. Here, just take it. It should help wash down that awful taste."
Clark eyed the bottle warily, then glanced back up at her face. "Did you poison it?" he asked, only half-serious.
Yotsuba shot him a classic deadpan stare, her eyebrows flattening in exaggerated disbelief. "No. But you're really making me wish I had."
"You're honestly scaring me right now. What did you do to it?" Clark pressed, holding the bottle up to the light and examining it closely as if it might reveal some hidden trap. "Did you spit in this to get me back or something?"
"Obviously not. That's gross," Yotsuba replied, rolling her eyes. Her face scrunched up in clear annoyance, lips pursed tightly. "Unlike some people I know, I actually have a thing called class and respect. Are you going to take a drink or not? I'd like to have my water back eventually."
After another beat of hesitation, Clark finally tilted his head back and sprayed a few generous shots into his mouth. The cool liquid soothed his throat instantly, chasing away the lingering ashes. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and handed the bottle back to her, mumbling a quiet but genuine, "Thanks."
"Whatever," Yotsuba retorted sarcastically, snatching the bottle. "Thanks for not spitting it in my face this time."
"Ughh, I knew it. This whole thing was just to make me feel guilty, wasn't it?" Clark groaned dramatically, hunching forward with his hands shoved deep into his pockets, shoulders slumping in defeat.
"Yup," Yotsuba confirmed with a proud, triumphant grin that lit up her entire face.
"I already apologized, didn't I?" Clark grumbled, his voice laced with annoyance as he kicked lightly at a scuff on the floor.
"You're delusional if you think I'm going to forgive you just because you apologized," Yotsuba scoffed, her tone dripping with disdain. She stepped in front of him, walking backward with surprising confidence so she could keep facing him.
"You have made a mortal enemy out of me, Clark Ayase!" she declared loudly, drawing out the words with dramatic flair. She ran her thumb across her throat in a swift slicing motion. "I won't stop until you're dead!"
With that, she spun around on her heel to face forward and marched off down the hallway with exaggerated, soldier-like steps. She raised the water bottle high in the air and announced one last time, her voice carrying through the corridor, "A mortal enemy! Do you hear me?!"
Clark stood there watching her retreating figure, a stiff but genuinely amused grin spreading across his face despite himself. He rubbed the back of his neck, shaking his head slowly as a single thought crossed his mind: 'Did I accidentally turn her into my Lex Luthor?'
…
Later that afternoon, during their PE class, the gymnasium buzzed with energy. The polished wooden floor gleamed under the bright overhead lights as enthusiastic shouts and laughter filled the air. Shoes squeaked sharply with every quick pivot and sprint, while the rhythmic thump of the basketball echoed off the high walls, punctuated by the satisfying swish of the net whenever someone sank a shot. The game was in full swing, with teams weaving and dodging in a lively blur of motion.
Clark, however, was nowhere near the action. He sat slumped on the upper rows of the bleachers, leaning back lazily against the hard seat with his head tilted all the way back. His eyes were closed, and he had pulled his spare jersey up over his face like an impromptu blanket, effectively tuning out the world around him.
"Why isn't Clark participating?" Lala asked curiously, glancing toward the bleachers while she stood catching her breath alongside Komi and Haruna. Sweat glistened on her forehead from the fast-paced game.
"Clark's never really been much of a sports person," Haruna explained with an awkward, sympathetic smile, rubbing the back of her head. "Some of our past PE teachers actually had to bribe him with extra credit or money just to get him to join in at all. Honestly it was like that with other teachers as well"
"I'm sorry, they had to pay him with money?" Ichika echoed in disbelief as she overheard the conversation and jogged over to join the group. The rest of her sisters quickly clustered around as well, drawn by the unusual story. The only one notably absent from the huddle was Miku, who sat quietly on the bleachers a short distance away from Clark, observing everything with her usual calm detachment.
"All those muscles and he can't even play sports," Yotsuba scoffed, crossing her arms with a hint of disdain as she glanced toward the bleachers.
"Ah, it's not that he can't," Haruna corrected gently while dribbling the basketball with practiced ease. The ball thumped rhythmically against the polished gym floor. "He just doesn't want to. Clark is actually really good — which is exactly why our coaches used to bribe him. They'd pull him in as backup whenever they needed to win a big tournament or some important match for the school."
"So what, he's like a hired mercenary or something?" Nino asked, bursting into laughter at the idea.
"Kinda?" Haruna replied with a stiff, knowing grin. She lowered her voice into a deep, deadpan impression of Clark, perfectly mimicking his usual drawl and slightly annoyed expression. "Time is money. If they want to waste my time on useless crap, I better be getting paid for it."
Lala immediately burst into bright laughter. "Hehehe! That was a pretty good impression of him!"
Not one to be left out, Lala quickly copied Haruna's stance, deepening her own voice dramatically. "'Time is money!'"
The impression sent most of the girls into fits of giggles. Others simply smiled in amusement, the lighthearted energy spreading through the group like wildfire. Soon they were all joining in, each taking turns with their own over-the-top impersonations of Clark, competing to see who could nail it the most accurately.
Ichika went second to last, striking a pose with exaggerated laziness. "If you're going to do something right, you might as well get paid for it!"
From his spot on the bleachers, Clark finally lowered the jersey from his face and sat up slightly, peering down at the cluster of girls on the court below him. "You guys do realize you aren't exactly being quiet… I'm sitting right here and I can hear everything you're saying?"
The group erupted into a fresh wave of giggles. Some of the girls rubbed the backs of their heads bashfully, while others simply grinned unapologetically, showing zero remorse.
Clark rolled his eyes and focused on Ichika. "And if you're going to mock me, at least do it right. The saying goes, 'If you're good at something, never do it for free.'"
Most of the guys on the court were staring at Clark with a mix of envy and annoyance. He wasn't even participating — just lounging lazily on the bleachers — yet here he was, surrounded by the attention of so many attractive and lively girls who were all laughing and giggling in his corner.
(A/N: Sounds like a skill issue on their part honestly)
Motemitsu, still stinging from the last embarrassing run-in with Clark, turned to his friend with a sly grin. "Watch this." He aimed the basketball directly toward Clark's direction, winding up for a throw.
Just as he released the ball, someone accidentally bumped into him from behind with a hurried apology. The timing threw off his aim completely. The ball sailed through the air, veering sharply off course — straight toward Miku, who was sitting quietly on the bleachers.
"Look out!" Motemitsu shouted in panic, never having intended to hurt Miku.
Miku barely had time to react, her eyes widening. But Clark moved instantly. He leaned all the way back, stretching his arm out protectively over her. His hand shot forward and stopped the ball dead — just an inch from her face.
The gym fell momentarily quiet.
Clark turned his gaze slowly toward Motemitsu. His expression was cold enough to send a visible chill down the boy's spine. Veins bulged prominently along his forearms as he cocked the ball back, ready to fire it with frightening force.
Miku panicked and jumped up, grabbing Clark's arm with both hands to stop him. "I'm okay, Clark! There's no need! It was an accident!"
Clark looked at her for a moment, then scoffed. "I know you're okay. I was just going to throw it back at him for aiming it at me in the first place."
"You'll kill him…" Miku warned, her voice firm but laced with concern.
"I know. That's the point," Clark said indifferently.
"Clark!" Miku reprimanded him with an adorable pout, refusing to let go of his arm.
"Tsk! Fine," Clark clicked his tongue in annoyance. He relaxed his throwing arm and casually tossed the ball in a smooth arc. It sailed perfectly across the court and swished cleanly through the distant net.
The ball bounced hard off the floor and rocketed straight into the back of Motemitsu's head with a loud *thwack*. The impact knocked him comically off his feet, sending him sprawling forward. Laughter exploded across the gymnasium as everyone nearby pointed and chuckled at his misfortune.
Miku started to giggle softly beside Clark, covering her mouth. "Why are you so petty?"
"Don't act like he didn't deserve it," Clark scoffed, plopping back down onto the bleachers with a satisfied smirk. He pulled his jersey partially over his face again, though the faint grin still lingered beneath it.
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