It all happened way too fast. One second I was standing there, the next—splash!—someone fell into the pool, dragging me down into chaos.

"G-Ginjo-san! Are you okay?!"

Lisa Shiraishi, my ever-diligent, ever-beautiful senior, practically sprang off my body like she'd been sitting on a hot plate. Her hands were already tugging me upright before I could even answer.

Meanwhile, the others scrambled to pull the soaked culprit ashore.

I sucked in a sharp breath.

"Hiss—"

Yeah… that hurt more than I wanted to admit.

"I… I'm fine," I gritted out. "Check on her first."

She nodded, her long ponytail swaying as she hurried over to the dripping girl.

"A-are you okay? Did you bump anywhere?" she asked, crouching down with that same warm, mother-hen energy she always had with the team.

The girl coughed twice, waved her hands, and said she was fine—just swallowed some water.

Good. No casualties. Well… except maybe my pride and—

Lisa was suddenly right in front of me again.

"Did the weights hit you just now? Where? Let me see."

Her tone was sharper now. I waved it off, trying to look cool.

"It's nothing serious, just—"

"Hands. Off."

Before I could stop her, she'd grabbed my wrist and pulled my hand away from my middle finger.

Her eyes went wide. "Ginjo-san…"

Yeah. My finger looked like it had been in a fight with a sumo wrestler and lost.

"That's bad. We're going to the doctor. No arguments."

I gave a half-smile. "Senpai, really, it's—"

"Ginjo-san." Her tone was the kind you didn't ignore unless you had a death wish.

"…Yes, ma'am."

She ordered Kurizono and Midorikawa to fetch an ice pack, then shooed the others off for the day.

Minutes later, we'd both changed, the girls returned with the ice pack, and Lisa knelt in front of me.

"Hold still. This might be cold."

The moment the ice touched my skin—

"Hhss—"

Her brow furrowed. "Sorry. I'll be gentle."

Why did her voice sound like that? Soft. Careful. It made my chest feel warmer than the rest of me, despite the freezing pain in my finger.

We didn't waste time after that—Lisa practically dragged me to a taxi, muttering something about "responsibility" and "being the one who invited you."

Hospitals on a Sunday are surprisingly empty. X-ray, results, consultation—all in record time.

The doctor, a balding middle-aged man with the expression of someone who'd seen too many idiots like me, examined the film.

"Minor fracture in the right middle finger. No surgery needed. External fixation will do. Good thing you came right away."

Lisa visibly relaxed beside me, though her lips were still pressed tight. She thanked the doctor, then looked at me like she was saying I told you so without words.

"Patient, please follow me. Family members, wait outside," the doctor said.

I froze mid-step.

Family members?

I glanced back. Lisa's eyes flickered for a second, her cheeks faintly pink.

"…I'm just his senior," she mumbled to herself, though her fingers brushed her lips like she was wondering what if.

Inside, the bone-setting was… not my idea of a good time.

"Hold still, almost done," the doctor said as I tried not to let any embarrassing sounds escape my mouth. (I failed.)

When I came back out, finger now trapped in a thick metal brace that made it look like a carrot cosplay, Lisa was on her feet in an instant.

"How do you feel? Does it still hurt?"

I flexed my hand slightly.

"Much better. The doctor's a pro. Barely hurts now."

Then, because I couldn't resist—

"Thanks for worrying, 'family.'"

Her face turned a shade redder than my finger.

"Y-you remembered that?!"

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how I learned that an injured middle finger can still point out a senpai's weak spot.