COTE : Oh No, I've Become the Substitute

Advanced Nurturing High School, dormitory building, thirteenth floor, Horikita Suzune's room.

Facing the sturdy door before him, Fuyuji Mikage straightened out his clothes. With a hint of barely contained anticipation, he briskly extended a finger and pressed the doorbell.

"Ding-dong! Ding-dong! Ding-dong!" The urgent chime rang out.

"Hmph haha, Horikita-san, I've come to help you."

After the room behind the door fell silent for a long while, Horikita's cool voice, tinged with a hint of gloom, finally sounded belatedly.

"That... forget it. A guy with a personality as nasty as yours is eighty percent here just to mock my current miserable state."

"Come on, come on. Where's that crisp, sharp ice-cold beauty I knew before?" Fuyuji shook his head, raising an eyebrow. "What's the big deal if I see it? Haven't I seen you in enough miserable states already? Or do you think you're some untouchable, aloof beauty in my eyes?"

Sorry, Horikita-girl, but honestly, your current image in my mind is that of an adorably dim-witted, one-track-minded girl who just happens to have overpowered hardware specs.

I'm pretty sure your brother shares this assessment with me—heroes see eye to eye, after all. How else could he have instantly guessed all those drool-inducingly silly moves you pulled on the uninhabited island?

"So... there's nothing you could do that would surprise me. Just open the door."

After a few seconds of silence, Horikita threw caution to the wind and muttered sullenly:

"Just so we're clear... you're not allowed to laugh at me..."

"Deal!" Fuyuji agreed immediately, taking a deep breath and keeping his face taut.

With a click, the door cracked open and swung inward. The warm light from inside the room spilled out, and the scene within greeted Fuyuji's eyes...

Horikita stood there, her head bowed in humiliation. A few strands of black hair had slipped down over her forehead, veiling her eyes. She stared fixedly at the floor, not daring to look at the expression on his face. Both hands were hidden tightly behind her back, still trying to cover up the truth in a futile attempt to keep Fuyuji from seeing.

Suddenly, Fuyuji's gaze swept past her shoulder and fixed straight on the balcony window. His brow furrowed as he gazed into the distance.

"Your brother... that guy is still working this late? The lights in the Student Council are actually still on."

Horikita's expression froze. A trace of genuine confusion flickered across her refined features. Her dark dress traced a beautiful arc with her movement, the hem fluttering lightly to reveal her slender ankles. "Where—" But halfway through turning, she abruptly stopped, her entire body stiffening.

It suddenly hit her—this was the thirteenth floor. Theoretically, from the doorway, one should only see the pitch-black night sky, not the low-rise Student Council building. And the Student Council wasn't even in this direction...

Behind the dark dress, one fair, slender hand rested quietly behind her hip. But the other—the exposed wrist was faintly reddened. Further down, a small ladies' stainless steel insulated water bottle was bizarrely jammed onto her hand. The mouth of the bottle bit tightly into her skin, reflecting a harsh, cold metallic gleam under the light. A few droplets of water still clung to the bottle's surface, slowly sliding down its smooth exterior and dampening a small patch of her skirt...

At this moment, the atmosphere in the room solidified for an instant. The ticking of the second hand on the wall clock suddenly seemed deafening. Tick-tock, tick-tock...

Fuyuji's tightly clenched jaw instantly collapsed. He clapped a hand over his mouth, using every ounce of strength in his body to force back the laughter about to erupt... and then...

"Honk honk honk honk honk honk..."

An utterly devastating, goose-like laughter burst uncontrollably from behind his covered mouth, piercing through the doorway and echoing through the empty, silent corridor of the thirteenth floor.

Horikita's voice, thick with mortified fury, followed right on its heels as she raised her improvised weapon and gave chase. "Stop laughing!"

"Honk honk honk, okay... okay... I'm not laughing anymore, Horikita-san. Stop chasing me!"

"You're still laughing! You haven't stopped once!"

...

Five minutes later.

"Thud—!"

A teacup was slammed heavily onto the table. Horikita kept her refined, icy face taut, straightening her spine and struggling to make herself appear more imposing. "Please, drink!"

Unfortunately, seeing that ladies' water bottle still stubbornly attached to her hand, bobbing along as she walked, Fuyuji let out a "pfft" and burst into laughter once again.

"You're still laughing!" Horikita raised the hand with the bottle, murderous intent flashing across her face as she made a threatening gesture.

"Hahaha, this... this isn't something I can control..." Fuyuji clutched his stomach and rolled directly onto the soft carpet, curling up like a shrimp. "You've gotta let me recover... hasn't this happened before? That thing where..."

He caught his breath and continued laughing. "Where you're curious... why a lightbulb can fit into your mouth, haha, but then you can't get it out, and it actually... actually gets stuck, hahaha..." (Good children definitely shouldn't try this.)

Horikita's fair cheeks flushed bright red in an instant.

As a matter of fact, that was exactly what she'd been thinking when cleaning the water bottle that afternoon. If she could fit her hand in, surely she could pull it out.

The final result was obvious...

Watching Fuyuji still writhing on the floor in laughter, Horikita's petite toes curled restlessly inside her slippers. She took a deep breath, suppressed the urge to kick this guy rolling around on her floor to death, turned, and headed toward the kitchen.

"Once you're done laughing, please come and help me."

She had no choice. When she'd discovered she was stuck and spent nearly two hours trying and failing to remove the bottle, after scanning her options, the only person she could think of was this guy.

Maybe if she'd searched a bit harder, she could have found a classmate willing to help—and one who wouldn't mercilessly mock her like this. But...

Horikita shook her head, her eyelids lowering.

Compared to dealing with other people, maybe being laughed at by him wasn't so unbearable after all. This wasn't the first time he'd seen such an embarrassing side of her. Perhaps she'd long since gotten used to showing her weak side to him.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming." Fuyuji scrambled up from the floor and followed her. "How long were you trying? Did you use soapy water?"

"Two hours." Horikita waggled the bottle on her hand, shamefully turning her face away. Her voice carried a thread of exhaustion, listless and resigned. "I tried every method. Nothing worked."

"Say... if your brother found out his own little sister was defeated by a water bottle, would he regret not letting you drop out back then?" Fuyuji crouched down and carefully examined the stuck area.

"Don't you dare tell my brother about this!" Horikita's voice suddenly shot up eight octaves, issuing a frosty warning.

"Fine."

"Why do you look somewhat disappointed?" She fixed him with a cold glare and pressed further.

"No such thing." Fuyuji bit his lower lip, turned his head away, and silently changed the subject. "Let's try again. It was probably just that you couldn't find the right leverage point on your own."

"Fine."

...

"Has it seeped through? How's the lubrication?"

"It's alright. Please, begin."

"Tss—! It's a bit tight... tell me right away if it hurts."

"Huff huff... spare me the chatter... hurry up and pull!"

"Can't help it, I'm worried you can't take it."

"Huff huff... judging by your muscle tone, Fuyuji-kun, your physical fitness is very average."

"You dare underestimate me! Let me show you what I've got!"

"Tss! Gentler, it hurts a little."

"Heh heh, now you know my power..."

Releasing the ladies' water bottle, Fuyuji steadied his breathing, raised a hand to wipe the cold sweat from his forehead, and smirked smugly at Horikita, who was slumped on the sofa, panting in short, shallow breaths.

"Seems I'm still the superior one. Though..."

He looked at the stainless steel bottle still stubbornly biting into her wrist and scratched the back of his head, somewhat troubled. "No good. Your hand's probably been inside the bottle too long. It's swollen up from the blood congestion. If we try to yank it out by force, you might leave skin and flesh behind inside it."

"Do you have any other methods besides soapy water?"

Raising her right hand in despair, Horikita, thoroughly humiliated, once again issued a plea for help to Fuyuji.

"Hmm..." Fuyuji pinched his chin and pondered for a moment. "The safest option right now is to get the school involved. They should have tools to safely cut the entire bottle open. But..."

He cast a pitying glance at her and gave her a "you know" look.

That would mean an ultimate, epic-level public humiliation. Not to mention Horikita Manabu, the Student Council President—a whole crowd of students looking for entertainment would find out about it.

At that point, Horikita could become the second big celebrity among the first-years at Advanced Nurturing High School, right after Sakayanagi Arisu.

Horikita grit her teeth, a chill of murderous cold radiating from her slender frame, shooting straight into the heavens.

She shot to her feet and enunciated every single word: "That. Is. Absolutely. Not. Happening!"

Then, whipping her head around, she fixed her captivating, fox-like eyes dead on Fuyuji's. "If that happens, I'm dragging you off this balcony to die with me!"

Fuyuji threw his hands up in frustration. "Oi oi, if you want to die, that's one thing—but I have to die too? I came here out of the goodness of my heart to help you! And I don't want to die! Why drag me into it?!"

"Yes. Aside from myself, you're the only one who knows about this. It'll definitely be you who leaks it!" Horikita nodded with certainty, an expression of unshakable resolve on her face. She stepped forward, closing in on him with the aura of someone ready to take her enemy down with her.

"Being friends with you actually comes with a life-threatening risk..."

"It's too late to back out now." Horikita's face was full of murderous intent as she planted her hands on her hips—one hand still accessorized with a bottle. "I can't possibly let anyone who knows my secret live. So hurry up and think of something."

"Well then, no choice."

Fuyuji raised a hand to his forehead and let out a long sigh. "There is one method, though it's highly uncertain. We'll just have to give it a shot."

"That method?"

"Hold on. Stay here for a bit. I need to make some preparations."

With that, Fuyuji turned and headed toward the refrigerator.

"What method?"

"You'll find out in a moment. If I say it out loud, it won't work." He pulled some ice cubes from the fridge. "Where are the towels?"

"I'll get them."

...

Ten minutes later.

The stainless steel water bottle had been filled with ice water and soapy water. Its exterior was tightly wrapped with a towel soaked in hot water.

Horikita sat in her chair, quietly observing Fuyuji's operations. "I understand thermal expansion and contraction." She slowly raised her other hand. "But what do you mean by wrapping up this hand too?"

Fuyuji lowered his head and pulled out another dry, thick towel. With practiced but slightly rough technique, he wrapped her other hand up just as tightly and securely. "To prevent you from beating me to death later."

Horikita narrowed her eyes and stated flatly, "Fuyuji-kun, I hold a third-degree black belt in Aikido."

"My pain-in-the-ass rear-seat neighbor is a menkyo kaiden practitioner of Ai-style ancient martial arts, and she still goes toe-to-toe with me just fine." After checking the hand wrapped up like a giant rice dumpling one more time, Fuyuji nodded with satisfaction. "This should about do it."

"What exactly are you planning to do?" Horikita instinctively took two steps back.

"Relax. It should work. Trust me."

Then, Fuyuji found a length of rope. He tied one end securely to the water bottle and the other end to the door lock. "All preparations complete."

"Horikita-san, are you ready?"

Horikita looked at the scene before her and frowned. "Are you going to pull together with me?"

"No!"

Fuyuji took a deep breath, swiftly pulled out his phone, stepped forward, and held it up in front of her face.

"Suzune, look!"

"Hm?" Horikita raised her head in confusion.

And in the very next second, she watched as Fuyuji, with lightning speed, tapped the video call button for Horikita Manabu. Immediately after, an arm wrapped around her from behind, locking her firmly in his embrace.

"Fuyuji Mikage, what are you doing?!" Staring at the video call dialing on the phone screen, the faint blush on Horikita's face was instantly replaced by sheer murderous fury.

Feeling the girl struggling ceaselessly in his arms, Fuyuji let out a long, drawn-out sigh.

"Truth is, I couldn't think of any solution at all. The only option is to ask the school for help. But I also don't want to die. So I can only call Horikita Manabu to save my life. Until he gets here, I'll hold onto you tight and not let you beat me to death."

Fuyuji paused, then added smugly, "Soon, Horikita Manabu will see your current state. You're siblings anyway. As long as you beg him, he'll help you resolve this privately. It won't blow up into public knowledge. Well? Isn't my plan brilliant?"

Brilliant my ass!

She'd already caused her brother more than enough trouble. Now she'd have to let him see her in this utterly pathetic state...

[Suzune, you really are utterly useless...]

[Bringing shame to me, your older brother, time and time again...]

[And you even threatened Fuyuji. He's a kouhai I have high hopes for—completely unlike my useless little sister...]

...

In the span of just a few short breaths, Horikita Manabu's cold, indifferent words echoed over and over inside Horikita's mind.

No! No way! She absolutely couldn't let her brother see this! This humiliation... this disgrace...

In the next instant, she snatched the phone from Fuyuji's hand with a sharp smack. A bone-chilling, icy aura burst forth from her. "Fuyuji-kun, if you have any last words, say them quickly..."

Gradually, her cold, menacing words turned puzzled. Her voice softened, then trailed off into silence.

Horikita slowly raised her right hand. It was reddened and slightly swollen. Soapy water trickled down her smooth forearm, dripping, dripping onto the floor.

"Heh heh, well? I told you it'd work, didn't I?" Fuyuji revealed a see-I-told-you-so grin. "Now watch me finish it off in one go, while it hasn't realized what's happening."

Horikita said nothing.

She simply stared blankly at her now-liberated right hand. Her fingertips curled unconsciously, as if confirming this wasn't an illusion.

After a dazed moment, the realization belatedly dawned on her.

The reason she couldn't pull it out before was probably because her palm had swollen, coupled with being in a constant state of tension, which made it ineffective.

After resting for a while just now, combined with the soapy water and the principle of thermal expansion and contraction, once her muscles relaxed and she applied just a little force, it came right off.

A few seconds later, she finally lifted her eyes. A gaze sharp as a small knife slowly swiveled toward Fuyuji, who was still holding her from behind. Her voice was cold enough to shed shards of ice. "Why didn't you discuss this with me?"

"If I had, wouldn't it have been ineffective?"

"Also true..."

Horikita lowered her gaze and stared at her freed fingers, her fingertips unconsciously rubbing against her wrist bone. A wave of exhaustion and relief washed over her limbs like the tide. Her heavy eyelids slowly drooped...

Finally... it was over...

Exhaustion flooded through her limbs like the tide. Her heavy eyelids slowly drooped...

"I say..."

The phone screen, still held in Horikita's grip, dimly lit up, reflecting Horikita Manabu's utterly unruffled eyes behind his glasses. His cold voice rang out abruptly in the empty room.

"You two—did you specifically call me to showcase the degenerate atmosphere of Advanced Nurturing High School?"

In that instant, the entire room plunged into a deathly silence. The faint static hum of the video call, the drip-drip of soapy water falling, the soft blow of the air conditioner's cold air—all of it seemed preternaturally clear at this moment.

"O-Onii-sama!"

A voice even more panic-stricken than when she'd threatened to jump off the balcony burst out from the thirteenth-floor balcony.

Outside the window, the crescent moon was half-veiled by drifting clouds. The sleeves of the school uniform hanging to dry on the balcony swayed emptily in the night breeze, much like the hollow shell of Horikita's soul-snatched body right now.

She... was probably already dead...

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