COTE : Oh No, I've Become the Substitute

The blazing midsummer sun hung high overhead, unleashing its heat with reckless abandon, so fierce it was nearly impossible to keep one's eyes open.

The emerald leaves had curled inward, drooping low and pressing against the scorching branches. The sparse shadows of the trees had shrunk to the size of coins, swaying faintly in the occasional sea breeze and imprinting themselves upon the red brick tiles of the school path. The tree trunks had been bleached pale by the sun. The cicadas droned on, weak and listless.

Inside the student dormitory, in Fuyuji's room, the curtains hung utterly motionless. The air conditioning was cranked to maximum, and the glass by the window was veiled in a layer of fine condensation. On the table, droplets of water had formed on the outer wall of a glass of juice, slowly sliding down and tracing a long, thin line.

By the balcony, sunlight streamed through the glass door and struck the teak floor, casting several strangely shaped shadows.

Morishita sat on the floor, her black-stockinged feet pressed together. One arm wrapped around her thighs to hold down her skirt while the other held a popsicle. Wrapped in Fuyuji's blanket, her large eyes closed, she slowly opened her mouth and drew out a long, languid note.

"Ah~ ah~ ah~"

The spinning blades of the electric fan before her sliced through the listless sound, sending fragmented echoes drifting through the small room. The swirling airflow lifted the two small braids at Morishita's chest and blew them backward, where they landed on Fuyuji, who was lying on the floor playing a game.

"Achoo!" A modest sneeze erupted through the room.

Fuyuji rubbed his nose and rolled over, returning his focus to the screen. Damn it, why was catching a 6IV Feebas in this game so impossibly hard!

Morishita swept a sidelong glance at Fuyuji, still sprawled on the floor, and silently reached out to turn the fan down one notch. Then she continued...

"Ah~ ah~ ah~"

The listless sound once again echoed through the room.

A long while passed. Morishita popped the popsicle into her mouth and spoke in a muffled voice.

"Fuyuji Mikage, I'm so bored."

"Can't be helped, can it?" Having released yet another Feebas, Fuyuji—a die-hard stats grinder—replied absently. "The sun out there is absolutely brutal right now. Step outside and your HP just starts draining. The great Morishita, self-proclaimed Pirate King, would probably be burnt to ashes the moment she set foot out there."

The August midsummer was practically the hottest stretch of the entire year. Coupled with the heat island effect of the sprawling Tokyo metropolis, even Morishita—who normally loved poking into into every nook and cranny of the campus—was forced to take refuge in the air-conditioned room for the time being, lying low until the worst had passed.

"Didn't you say you have superpowers? Hurry up and lower the temperature."

"Can't do that. That's beyond my ability range. Didn't the great Morishita also claim she can converse with the forest? Tell the forest to put in more effort and absorb more carbon dioxide. That way, the great Morishita can save the world once again."

"You're just making things difficult for the great Morishita."

...

Enjoying the conveniences of modern technology, the two of them traded idle, meandering chatter within the air-conditioned room with an air of great seriousness. After engaging in another round of hypothetical power-scaling debates, Morishita glanced around the room and abruptly shifted topics.

"Where's Yamamura Miki?"

"She went back to get the ingredients. Wasn't it you who said we'd eat dinner together tonight?"

"Is that so..." Morishita held the popsicle in her mouth and swiveled her eyes, staring thoughtfully at Fuyuji, still lying on the floor.

"Mm."

The room fell quiet. The blue-green blades of the electric fan spun at a steady, gentle rhythm.

A moment later, Morishita's voice rang out once more.

"Fuyuji Mikage." A small, exquisite foot wrapped in black stockings extended outward. The faintly pink sole, carrying a touch of slightly cool warmth and the distinctive smooth texture of the stockings, landed with precision on Fuyuji's spine.

"Mm?" He turned his head. His mouth had just begun to open when it froze solid in midair.

A popsicle—bitten with a tiny crescent-moon nick—was being held steadily before his lips by a small hand. Morishita's face was turned completely toward the window, leaving him only the soft, gentle outline of her profile. He couldn't make out her expression at all.

"The popsicle doesn't taste good. Give it back. Next time, buy the chocolate-flavored kind."

"..."

The popsicle, still radiating icy cold, hung frozen in midair. Fuyuji's gaze locked onto it subconsciously. The milky-white surface, following the line of the tiny teeth marks, slowly trailed a thin trickle downward, as if about to drip onto the floor at any moment.

"Are you refusing it?"

Seeing that Fuyuji still hadn't responded, Morishita turned her head. Her large eyes stared into his own without blinking.

Fuyuji finally snapped back to his senses and sat up from the floor. "How could it not taste good?" He took the popsicle and slowly slipped it into his mouth, speaking indistinctly.

"I think it's pretty good..."

The dense, creamy milk melted across his tongue. The coolness, wrapped in the fragrance of milk, swirled into a vortex. His tongue was enveloped in the smooth, silky richness. Occasionally, he bit into an unmelted shard of ice—a crisp crack ringing out, sending a faint numbness tingling up the back of his neck. The mellow richness of the milk fat slid down his throat, and a sweet, clean aftertaste bloomed at the back of his mouth—as if the warm morning breeze of a dairy farm had swept across his taste buds.

Sweet. Cool...

"I want to play too..." Morishita stretched out her arm and spread her palm.

"Here..." Fuyuji casually handed it over and stared up at the ceiling, beginning to savor the taste in earnest.

Having taken the handheld console, Morishita shifted her small bottom just a fraction. Her skirt traced half a circle of ripples across the floor as she smoothly settled right into Fuyuji's lap. She lowered her head and focused her attention entirely on the game in her hands.

Fuyuji, still ruminating over the taste of the popsicle, froze in an instant. His entire body stiffened. His Adam's apple bobbed soundlessly by half an inch. The originally faintly cool breeze from the fan was now completely blocked, thoroughly cut off by the warm, soft body settled in his embrace. The body heat and elastic sensation transmitted through the thin fabric of her dress spread clearly through his entire being.

Immediately after, the bare inner crook of her knee pressed against a layer of light skirt fabric without the slightest guard. Further down, the outer side of her black-stockinged thigh—faintly suffused with a pink halo—brushed against his calf and ankle, now close, now distant, carrying a subtle friction. The silky, ticklish sensation shot straight up his spine like an electric current and surged to the nape of his neck, raising a patch of fine goosebumps.

The two small braids, blown backward by the fan, swept across Fuyuji's collarbone—like a feather gently brushing the sole of a foot, bringing an indescribable, tingling itch.

When Fuyuji finally came back to his senses, he subconsciously drew a deep breath. It was that familiar, faint peach fragrance he had smelled the very first day he met her...

His eyes lowered, gazing at the porcelain-white skin peeking through the fine hairs at the nape of her neck. Carefully, bit by bit, he drew his body closer... until, at last, the girl was completely enveloped in his embrace. He rested his chin lightly atop her head, his arms curving around her waist and folding together before her.

"Why are they all level five?" After furiously mashing buttons on the handheld for a while, Morishita asked without turning her head.

"Because I haven't caught the pet I want yet." Fuyuji helped return Morishita's two small braids to her chest and straightened out her collar, which had been blown askew by the fan. He spoke as if this were the most natural thing in the world.

"What about that save file from last time? Didn't you spend two hours catching it?"

"Because I already caught the Pokemon I wanted, so I don't feel like playing anymore."

The entire room sank into a brief silence. Only the faint sound of popsicle-sucking remained.

A long moment passed before Morishita finally forced out a sentence. "Fuyuji Mikage, you're so boring..."

"I think it's pretty fun." Entirely without self-awareness, Fuyuji gazed out at the warped, shimmering buildings in the distance and spoke with sinful pride. "Bro's the same way. After I made her grind for me once, she never did it again. She even said if I ever made her do that kind of thing again, she'd defect to that scummy loli Sakayanagi. Damn it—what's so good about her anyway, that she can actually threaten my standing in my pal's heart?"

"..." A moment later, a voice of heartfelt admiration emerged from his embrace. "Kamuro Masumi... she's amazing."

"Haah? Aren't I the amazing one? Why are you saying my pal is amazing?"

"Fuyuji Mikage is so-so." Morishita immediately followed up with her sharp assessment.

Lowering his head, Fuyuji gazed at the porcelain-white nape of the girl in his arms and spoke in a somber, drawn-out voice. "Great Morishita, do you know... there are people calling me the mastermind secretly manipulating the entire first year right now."

"Doesn't feel like it compares to the great Morishita's lifelong nemesis."

"That one, I'll concede."

Fuyuji, still holding the popsicle, nodded in agreement. Then he reached out and grabbed a bag of chips from the table, tearing it open with a sharp rip.

"Does the great Morishita want something to eat?" Fuyuji lightly tapped her crown with his chin.

"Mm." Still focused on her game, Morishita replied offhandedly.

The milky-white popsicle was held before Morishita's lips. "Great Morishita, ah—"

"Ah-wum..." A small pink tongue lightly touched the popsicle. After testing the taste with a brief lick, she bit off a mouthful in one go.

"How's the flavor?"

"It's alright. How did Fuyuji Mikage know I like milk-flavored popsic—"

The casual, indifferent words came to an abrupt halt. The hand working the handheld console stopped in midair. As if suddenly recalling something, Morishita's small mouth worked faintly, and she slowly turned her head.

On that face—normally so devoid of emotional fluctuation—a faint, pale pink flush gradually spread. To her earlobes. To her neck. To her collarbone...

This was a breathtakingly beautiful sight that absolutely no third person in this entire school had ever witnessed.

Fuyuji grinned smugly. "I told you, didn't I? How could it possibly not taste good? I bought this specifically based on your preferences."

A murderous aura—unprecedented in its intensity—erupted from Fuyuji's embrace and shot straight toward the heavens.

Morishita lowered her little head. Her cherry-colored lips parted slightly as she murmured in a low voice. "Fuyuji Mikage..."

"Mm?"

"Can I kill you? Your answer is not important!"

The small foot clad in black stockings exploded with force in an instant. With a flying tackle, she pinned Fuyuji straight to the floor.

"Please, go enjoy your descent into hell."

The bag of chips, just torn open moments ago, was crushed flat with a sharp crunch.

...

"Ding~"

The elevator doors slid open. Yamamura Miki, carrying the ingredients she had bought the night before, stepped out with light, cheerful little steps.

"Hm~ hm~~ hm..."

An unknown melody drifted from her lips. Compared to the girl from a few months ago—who could barely stammer out a sentence when speaking to others—she was practically a different person entirely.

Yamamura counted off on her fingers and began pondering what to make for dinner tonight. Morishita preferred bold flavors with good texture, and something she hadn't eaten recently. Fuyuji, on the other hand, favored Chinese cuisine.

Mm... She could make some fried chicken, then try modifying the tempura. Fuyuji had mentioned that last time's version had been a bit like chicken tenders, so today she'd aim in that direction. For the main dish... curry. And she'd finish things off with some spinach.

Before she knew it, Yamamura had arrived at the door to Fuyuji's room. With a click, she twisted the handle and pushed it open.

"I'm bac—"

The smile on her face froze solid in an instant. Yamamura tilted her head.

"What are you two doing?"

In the modestly sized room, Morishita had pinned Fuyuji—whom she had tackled to the floor—beneath her. Both hands were wrapped around his neck, shaking him violently.

"I was wrong, great Morishita! Please spare me!"

"Even in your next life, the great Morishita could never possibly spare you!"

Seeing Yamamura return, Fuyuji's eyes lit up. He stretched out a hand toward her in desperation.

"Miki, save me!"

"No one can save you!" Morishita exerted force once more. Her small hands seized Fuyuji's cheeks and yanked them forcefully in opposite directions.

Though she had no idea what was going on, this kind of scene between the two of them was something Yamamura had long grown accustomed to.

She lifted her left foot and slipped it free from her shoe. Her foot, clad in plain white socks, stepped onto the floor as she walked into the room. Bending down, she picked up a tissue from the table, pressed down the hem of her skirt, and slowly crouched, wiping the beads of sweat from both their faces.

"Honestly. In this kind of heat, running both the air conditioner and the fan—if the wind hits you, it's so easy to catch a cold."

"You'll have to ask the great Morishita about that. Why did she buy an electric fan and then dump it at my place?"

"Because this fan looks really cool," Morishita declared with righteous confidence. She pointed at the fan spinning away by the balcony. "It's solar-powered. It can run without even being plugged in."

Pinned beneath her, Fuyuji closed his eyes in helpless resignation and spread his hands.

"Please. What era is this? When would the power ever go out?"

The words had barely left his mouth.

"Beep!"

A clear, crisp electronic chime rang out through the room. The entire space dimmed in an instant.

Following the sound, they saw the faintly swaying air conditioner louvers come to an abrupt halt, frozen in midair. No more cold air came streaming out.

The three of them stared stiffly at the air conditioner—now as lifeless as a corpse, utterly unresponsive—and then at the solar-powered fan, still spinning at full speed.

Beyond the balcony, beneath the vast, azure sky, not a single cloud was in sight. The harsh, blinding sunlight poured into the room, so dazzling it hurt to look at.

The room sank into a deathly silence. Outside on the balcony, the cicadas droned on noisily, their cries ringing out.

"Zzzz... Zzzz..."

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50 [Power Stones] = Bonus Chapter!

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