Class D had quite a few students skilled in sports—Horikita Suzune, Sudou Ken, Hirata Yosuke, Miyake Akito, Onodera Kayano, and others—slightly surpassing Class A.

This was hard for many Class A students to accept, especially Totsuka Yahiko, who loudly demanded a drug test for Sudou performance.

Seizing the opportunity, Horikita tried to pressure Katsuragi into conceding more points, but the latter remained calm and unmoved.

Katsuragi acknowledged that Class D now had the ability to collaborate with Class A on equal footing, but Class D's flaws were equally obvious—their strong students were exceptionally strong, while their weak ones were exceptionally weak.

Though Class A might lag behind in individual quality, their numbers and overall average surpassed Class D's.

If anything, Class D should be the ones asking Class A for help.

Otherwise, many Class D students would face the risk of falling behind in rankings.

After much back-and-forth, both sides had no choice but to compromise.

The two classes would align, mutually supporting each other to assist the physically weaker students.

However, they would also allow competition between them to determine who ranked higher and who ranked lower.

Kaoru had no interest in joining the commotion and was instead chatting idly with Kamuro.

"Did Sakayanagi give you any instructions?"

"Even if she did, do you really think I'd tell you?"

"Did she want you to trip me during the match and embarrass me in front of everyone?"

"Give me a break. I'd end up embarrassed too."

As they spoke, Kamuro casually glanced toward the spectator stands and asked nonchalantly.

"Looks like Class B is leaving. Aren't you going to say goodbye?"

"Better not. The class would give me weird looks." Kaoru paused. "Ichinose probably understands that too, which is why she didn't greet us."

In situations like this, everyone knew they were scouting for information.

A greeting would just be awkward—better to pretend not to see each other.

Kamuro hesitated, wanting to say more, but unsure what exactly she wanted to ask, so she simply stayed quiet.

"I'm going to buy water. What do you want?" Kaoru stood up, his gaze naturally drifting downward to look at her.

Just like during the deserted island incident, Kamuro was wearing a white short-sleeved shirt.

Not only that, but she also hadn't changed into gym shorts, still wearing long pants that concealed any glimpse of her thighs.

The only hint of allure came from her breathing—her chest rising and falling unconsciously, slightly damp strands of hair clinging to her forehead, her entire body exuding a faint, restless heat.

"Green tea," Kamuro muttered without moving, sensing someone's gaze on her.

Since buying drinks from the vending machine wasn't particularly troublesome, Kaoru headed alone toward the gym's rest area.

However, as soon as he left, someone else quickly made their move.

Clink—

Just as Kaoru bent down to pick up his drink, a voice sounded beside him.

"I want juice."

"Get your own," Kaoru replied, grabbing the drink from the bottom slot.

When he turned, he saw Karuizawa standing next to him.

"Eh, no way. I want your juice," Karuizawa giggled, wrapping her arms around his.

The soft feeling of her chest pressing against his arm was unmistakable even through the fabric—bouncy, yielding, and undeniably tempting.

Unlike Kamuro, Karuizawa was wearing gym shorts, her smooth, delicate thighs fully exposed.

Her increasingly plump little ass was already eye-catching enough, making it hard to resist the urge to touch.

Perhaps because of what had happened the day before, Kaoru couldn't help but react slightly.

"Won't this draw attention?"

"What's the big deal? Everyone's outside—no one's gonna see us here," Karuizawa said, snatching the juice from his hand.

After a brief pause, she handed it back.

"Hurry up and open it for me. I'm dying of thirst."

"But you haven't broken up with Hirata yet, right? If someone sees you like this, wouldn't that count as cheating?" Kaoru popped open the can and placed it in her hand.

"It's fine. Hirata and I are basically broken up already. He won't care." Seeing Kaoru reach for another juice, Karuizawa quickly grabbed his wrist.

"Wait, don't buy another one. I'll treat you to this one."

No sooner had she spoken than she shoved the juice—now with a single sip taken—back into Kaoru's hand.

At the same time, her cheeks flushed slightly as she stared at him nervously.

Kaoru glanced at the rim of the can.

There was no trace of lipstick—this gyaru seemed oddly meticulous about it.

"Is this an indirect kiss?"

Karuizawa's face turned redder as she clung tightly to his arm, her gaze darting away.

"I-I-It's not like it's an indirect kiss or anything! If you're bothered, just give it back!"

"Why would I be bothered? Saves me money," Kaoru said before taking a deliberate sip right in front of her.

Then, as if savoring the moment, he licked the rim clean and smacked his lips.

"Tastes great. Guess I'll stick with this brand from now on."

Karuizawa face flushed crimson, steam practically billowing from the top of her head.

While she had indeed intended to play a little trick on Kaoru, she never expected him to lick it all clean without hesitation.

So perverted...

No wonder he did such outrageous things to me back then.

"You're so red. Are you feeling unwell?" Kaoru feigned concern with an innocent tone.

At his deliberate teasing, Karuizawa face burned even hotter.

She pounded his chest in frustration.

"You big pervert! Disgusting creep!"

"Ow, stop. That actually hurts a little."

A faint smirk tugged at Kaoru's lips. "If I were really a pervert, now would be the perfect time to make you take another sip of juice."

Karuizawa bit her lip, then snatched the juice from him.

Without hesitation, she pressed her mouth against the exact spot he had licked and gulped it down.

Once finished, she instinctively licked her lips, meeting Kaoru's gaze with cheeks still aflame.

In a tiny, trembling voice, she murmured, "I-It's okay... if you're a little perverted..."

Kaoru fell silent for a long moment.

Truthfully, his hands were shaking slightly.

It was painfully obvious—Karuizawa had thrown all caution to the wind.

A parasite, in order to survive, would stop at nothing to mold itself into whatever its host desired, adapting to its new environment at any cost.

If he were to make any excessive demands of the girl before him now, she would probably grit her teeth and agree.