“If I may say so without fear of misunderstanding, it’s what you’d call the ‘frog being stared down by a snake’.”

Her eyes were on my mother, but even I, still so young back then, could tell she was simplifying it so I could understand too.

“This has nothing to do with her own will. It’s simply a reaction. It’s similar to the body freezing up in a crisis situation—thinking of it that way might make it easier to grasp.”

“But… she was fine before. It started suddenly after she entered elementary school…”

My mother spoke as if clinging to her for reassurance.

The doctor kept her calm demeanor and gave a gentle smile.

“That, too, is a commonly observed phenomenon. School is one of the most uniform environments in society, and it becomes a place where children tend to fear failure. Haven’t you ever experienced it yourself? You’re fine at home, but the moment you have to speak in front of everyone, you stutter or your face turns red. It isn’t anything unusual.”

“Is she… really going to be all right?”

“Children are extremely sensitive. Many of them are shy around strangers, right? However, as they grow older, they become more insensitive. One could say they become more thick-skinned.

At the same time, they learn that the world is full of all kinds of people. During that process, the tension eases, and the symptoms often fade before anyone notices. What matters is taking things slowly.”

“Doctor… what should I do?”

“Let’s see. First, don’t worry too much yourself. This isn’t a particularly rare condition. What’s important is creating a safe space for her at home.”

Nagi sat on the chair, swinging her legs as she stared at the potted plant in the corner of the examination room.

While listening to the complicated explanation, she silently repeated the doctor’s words in her mind.

―A frog being stared down by a snake.

She thought it was an interesting metaphor.

Even though there were no real snakes, the fact that she was afraid of an imaginary one felt ridiculous to her.

“It’s all right. Some children suddenly recover when their environment changes, or when they grow older.”

The doctor reassured her repeatedly.

When you grow up.

But to Nagi, who was only seven at the time, that future felt impossibly far away.

A few years passed.

Her symptoms hadn’t changed.

Whenever it was time to speak in front of the class, she stayed silent, unable to do anything.

At first, the teacher scolded her, but once her mother explained the situation, she was given special treatment.

This, however, isolated Nagi further.

Sometimes, someone would try to talk to her, but her throat would tighten, preventing words from coming out. She wouldn’t make eye contact and would look away.

It was difficult for her to build normal human relationships, so Nagi gave up on being ordinary early on.

And while others played with friends, Nagi focused solely on her studies.

With some innate perfectionist tendencies, Nagi found this suitable.

When she entered middle school, she began to be treated as a genius eccentric.

As the surrounding impressions began to shift gradually, Nagi became even more immersed in her studies.

And with strong recommendations from her homeroom teacher, she was accepted into Shirayuki Academy, one of the most prestigious schools in the capital.

During the interview, she couldn’t answer properly and was stamped with the label of Class K, the bottom tier. But Nagi was satisfied.

There was also a sense of resignation that this was as far as she could climb on her own.

In Class K, there was a prominent presence named Toudou Mizuki.

While female students flocked to him, Nagi only watched from afar.

This was her limit.

Beyond this, there was a clear boundary.

In Class K, even members of the Eighteen Founding Houses like Isshiki Shizuku and Houjou Noa were active.

It had already become a world where individual qualities could no longer make a difference.

Literally, they lived in entirely different worlds.

Nagi was only meant to passively observe school life from afar.

And now, Nagi stood frozen in the corner of a dark changing room.

“Do you know how many first-year high school boys there are in the capital?”

Gobai Miya asked. In her mind, Nagi answered 514.

She couldn’t speak.

“These 500 male students are divided among roughly 50 prestigious high schools. The remaining 350 schools in the capital are girls’ schools, and under the current system, the vast majority of female students lose any chance to interact with boys.”

“She forgot to count private schools,” Nagi thought while remaining motionless.

The correct number of girls’ schools was actually 408.

She knew the accurate figure was listed in the outline of the Population Production Plan the National Party released every year.

Population statistics are one of the most basic numbers for policy decisions, and if you aim to become a party member or bureaucrat, they must be memorized.

“There are 100,000 girls in the first year of high school in the capital. Do you understand how rare it is for you to have contact with only 500 boys?”

She understands it much better than they do.

That’s why she had no intention of approaching them.

It was enough to just watch from afar.

Believing that it would get better once she grew up, Nagi quietly prepared herself while remaining obedient.

“Are you listening?”

Her frozen body wouldn’t move.

As always, there was nothing to do but wait for it to pass.

“Don’t tell me… you’re looking down on us?”

Kisaragi Hiyori’s hand grabbed Nagi’s hair roughly.

Her face didn’t twist in pain.

Even when physical danger approached, her muscles remained rigid.

“….Hey, can you stop messing around?.”

The words “a frog being stared down by a snake” echoed in Nagi’s mind, spoken by the doctor long ago.

―The scariest thing isn’t the snake, but humans.

Kisaragi Hiyori’s grip tightened little by little.

She would probably keep hurting her until Nagi couldn’t stand anymore.

Nagi watched this as if it were someone else’s problem.

“What are you doing?”

Suddenly, a familiar male voice reached her ears.

A moment of silence fell.

Kisaragi Hiyori’s grip loosened, and her hand left Nagi’s hair.

Nagi slowly collapsed, leaning against the locker.

Her breathing was ragged. Her gaze remained fixed on the floor.

The tension in her body gradually eased.

“Mizuki-sama… this is…”

Gobai Miya’s flustered voice.

Slowly directing her gaze toward the door.

Sunlight painted the room red, highlighting Mizuki’s shadow.

His expression was calm, but his eyes carried a hint of anger.

It was an expression she had never seen before.

“Otonashi’s behavior has been too inappropriate… I was going to discipline her.”

Sakura Sanae interjected to support her. Kisaragi Hiyori nodded in agreement.

“…Yeah, exactly. But she wouldn’t even answer us.”

Slowly, Mizuki entered the changing room.

Nagi still couldn’t move properly.

She followed his figure with her gaze alone.

“It looked like you were grabbing her by the hair. What kind of ‘discipline’ were you trying to give her?”

Mizuki’s voice was low and quiet.

Kisaragi Hiyori took a step back, while Sanae closed her mouth.

“W-well… I didn’t intend to go this far…”

Gobai Miya’s confident attitude from earlier had completely crumbled.

Mizuki approached Nagi, knelt down, and gently extended his hand.

“Otonashi-san, are you okay?”

Nagi’s body trembled slightly.

Her frozen body began to move.

“… “

No words came out.

Before thinking, Nagi grabbed Mizuki’s sleeve.

Mizuki smiled and then stood up, facing Miya and the others.

“So, was this instruction from Houjou-san?”

Miya’s face tightened.

“No… it was my own idea…”

“What were you planning to discipline her for?”

“…Her behaviour and practice…”

“Right. Practice is something I’ll do with Otonashi-san, so you guys don’t need to worry. It seems she can’t move properly when there are people watching. That’s why I was waiting for Otonashi-san today.”

At that moment, Mizuki looked toward the outside of the changing room.

In front of him stood Kurosaki Ren’s group.

“They told me. Something felt off about the atmosphere.”

“Kurosaki…”

Kisaragi Hiyori muttered bitterly.

In contrast, Kurosaki Ren and Aoyama Haruka wore smug smiles.

“Just to be safe, we should talk to their boss too, right?”

“Yeah. We need to make sure they’re properly in check or it’ll be a problem.”

The strength drained from her body.

Her muscles loosened as if recoiling, and she nearly collapsed, but Mizuki caught her.

His well-shaped face was right there, close enough to touch.

After peering into Nagi’s face with clear concern, he immediately turned his gaze toward Gobai Miya.

“It’s about time, so let’s wrap it up. I’ll take Otonashi-san home.”

His words were gentle, but his voice was cold.

Gobai Miya and the others exchanged glances, then reluctantly left the room.

Hiyori shot Nagi a glare at the end but said nothing.

In the end, only Mizuki and Nagi remained in the changing room.

“Are you okay? Can you stand?”

At Mizuki’s words, Nagi’s throat finally loosened.

“…Th…thank you… very much…”

She couldn’t look away from Mizuki’s face, so close to her own.

Her body was no longer frozen, yet her gaze was drawn to him.

Something she had always thought was out of reach was now right in front of her.