COTE : Oh No, I've Become the Substitute

Advanced Nurturing High School, third-year dormitory building, Horikita Manabu's room.

Fresh out of the shower, Horikita Manabu stared at the two figures on his phone screen. He pushed up his glasses, the lenses refracting an eerily opaque flash of white under the fluorescent light.

"Let me get this straight. At an hour past nine in the evening, Suzune specifically invited you to her room to sample her cooking. As for the two of you embracing just now, that was purely because a cockroach suddenly appeared, startling you both, and in the ensuing panic you ended up in that position. You are nothing more than pure, innocent friends, and nothing whatsoever happened between you?"

Fuyuji Mikage knelt formally on the cushion before the low table in the center of the room. He cupped his teacup in both hands, gently blew aside the tea leaves floating on the surface, took a sip, and nodded with perfect composure.

"Yes."

Horikita Manabu slowly shifted his gaze to the other person on the screen.

"Suzune, is that also your understanding?"

Horikita Suzune knelt in the same formal posture before the low table, her hands resting properly on her knees. Her chin, usually held proudly high, was now practically buried in her chest. Her glossy, jet-black hair cascaded down both sides of her face, obscuring her expression. A voice as faint as a mosquito's whine emerged from behind that curtain of hair.

"Th-that's right, Nii-san..."

Manabu: "..."

Do these two think I bought my title as the most outstanding Student Council President in Advanced Nurturing High School's history at some bargain sale?!

If you're going to fabricate a story, at least put in some effort to make it convincing!

Truth be told, Suzune was thinking the exact same thing at that very moment.

Beyond the screen, out of Manabu's line of sight, two gazes intertwined and exchanged a silent, rapid-fire volley of communication at an indescribable speed.

Beneath the cascading black waterfall of her hair, Horikita's captivating fox-like eyes shot Fuyuji a frosty glare.

[This is the flawless, airtight excuse you came up with?]

Fuyuji shrugged and tossed a helpless look back at her.

[What else could it have been? You refused to tell your brother the truth. This was the only option. It's your own fault for having zero friends. Otherwise, this lie wouldn't have ended up this shoddy.]

[Horikita Suzune: Don't even bring that up. Your plan was historically, unprecedentedly terrible!]

[Fuyuji: Wasn't that your fault? I never expected that after you snatched the phone, you wouldn't even press the hang-up button immediately. That's how we ended up in this mess.]

The resentful glare in Horikita's eyes faltered in an instant. Her body stiffened. Beneath her, pressed against the floor, her toes began to stir restlessly against each other with a guilty fidget.

"..."

That... did seem to be her fault, actually...

Having mentally replayed the entire humiliating sequence of events, Horikita let her clenched fist fall slack and arrived at this reluctant conclusion.

[Horikita Suzune: Fine... I'll concede that point. That was indeed my fault. Now, Fuyuji-kun, please help me fix this situation.]

Once you start, you can't stop. Faced with the inherent older-brother buff that Horikita Manabu wielded, the ordinarily prideful Horikita Suzune was reduced to a meek lamb awaiting slaughter. She could only bow her head helplessly and once again seek Fuyuji's aid.

[Fuyuji: Horikita-san, do you think I'm some kind of all-purpose blue robot cat? Your brother isn't an idiot like you. There's no way I can just fool him and smooth this over.]

Horikita narrowed her eyes, a razor-sharp glare stabbing straight toward Fuyuji.

[Horikita Suzune: Fuyuji-kun, if you retract that last remark, I may consider sparing your life—in light of the many times you've helped me.]

On the other side of the phone screen.

Manabu watched the silent yet wildly gesticulating Fuyuji and rubbed his temples with a headache coming on.

Truthfully, he wasn't all that worried about Suzune.

He liked to think he had a fairly solid grasp of his little sister's personality.

Aloof, keeping others at arm's length, misunderstanding the meaning of pride and solitude, convinced she could handle everything by herself, and genuinely believing she didn't need friends—from the bottom of her heart.

With a little sister like that, he'd already mentally prepared himself for the day she'd end up old and alone.

The idea that, in just a few short months, that ice-cold sister of his had fallen hopelessly in love with Fuyuji—no, he didn't buy that for a second.

More likely, Suzune had some issue she needed Fuyuji's help with, but didn't want him to know about it, so she'd asked Fuyuji to cover for her.

Having swiftly pieced together the situation, as he watched the expression flickering faintly beneath the swaying strands of Suzune's hair, a barely perceptible smile surfaced on Horikita Manabu's normally stern face.

Fuyuji Mikage... he's done far better than I ever could.

"Suzune."

"H-Hai, Nii-san!"

Horikita Suzune jumped at the voice that had come out of nowhere. She shot bolt upright, her spine snapping straight, and answered with a guilty start.

"From now on, don't invite guests to your room past nine in the evening. Although Advanced Nurturing High School has no explicit school rule against it, the conduct itself is ultimately unbecoming of a proper high school student. Sampling cuisine can be done during the daytime."

Horikita Manabu swept a calm glance over the two of them, then, playing along with the flimsy excuse Fuyuji had just offered, issued the admonishment in his usual Student Council President tone.

"Y-yes. I'll be more mindful of that in the future." Horikita lowered her head and answered meekly.

"Tch... so then who's gonna make my midnight sna—thud!"

The stainless steel ladies' water bottle on the table suddenly toppled, landing with a soft but firm thump on Fuyuji's thigh.

Fuyuji, who had been just about to seize the opening and stir up some mischief, felt the death ray Horikita was shooting him—one that clearly said "say another word and I'll end you." He gulped audibly, his Adam's apple bobbing, and silently shut his mouth.

"It's getting late. Get some rest."

Glancing at the stainless steel water bottle that had rolled off the table, a flicker of understanding passed through Horikita Manabu's eyes. Without any change in his expression, he continued.

"...Yeah. Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

Reaching out, Manabu took the phone on his desk and ended the call.

Staring at the now-disconnected screen, he replayed the scene he'd witnessed the moment the video call had connected. A helpless, amused smile tugged at his lips as he shook his head.

That foolish little sister of his—she'd actually gotten her hand stuck inside a water bottle and couldn't pull it out.

No wonder she'd called Fuyuji up for help at this hour.

It was the price of having too little life experience and no friends.

Whether using thermal expansion and contraction, cooking oil for lubrication, or any number of other methods—as long as you reduced the friction between the palm and the inner wall of the bottle, you could pull it out.

Suzune was still far too green. The moment she ran into trouble, she lost all ability to reason.

His thoughts reaching this point, Horikita Manabu slowly turned his head. A contemplative gaze settled on the stainless steel water bottle in his own kitchen.

...

At the same time, staring at the now-ended call on her phone screen, Horikita Suzune let out a breath of deep, genuine relief.

She'd finally managed to fool her brother...

Still—her brother had actually trusted that guy so readily. An excuse that flimsy had somehow worked.

A small flicker of indignation rose in Horikita's heart.

What's so great about that guy? Isn't he just a little more cunning than most?

A sidelong glance told her that Fuyuji, who had just been sitting beside her, had at some unknown point relocated to her desk and was now fiddling with her textbooks.

"Tss—!"

Flipping through the textbook densely packed with notes, Fuyuji inhaled sharply.

He'd long heard that Horikita-girl treated studying as one of her greatest hobbies. Seeing it with his own eyes today, it was truly something else.

"Ahem... Fuyuji-kun, you may leave now."

Rising from the floor, Horikita brushed aside the black strands of hair that had clung to the corner of her lips when her head was lowered. Barefoot, she padded slowly over behind him, carrying a faint trace of resentment over having her brother's attention stolen away.

"I gotta say, Suzune. I just finished solving your problem, and now you're kicking me out. You're way too cold."

Leaning back in the chair, tilting it onto its rear legs, Fuyuji draped Horikita's open textbook over his face.

"We're to-mo-da-chi. Shouldn't you be weeping with gratitude toward me, your one and only friend, then warmly inviting me to stay for tea, giving me a tour of your room, and telling me to drop by and hang out more often?"

"There is no such clause. My friendship guidelines contain no such provision." Horikita's face was cold as she pointed a bare hand toward the door.

"?"

The textbook slid off his face. Fuyuji tilted his head back, looking up at Horikita upside-down. "Don't you only have one friend—me? How did these 'friendship guidelines' come into existence?"

"Yes." Horikita nodded, folding her arms across her chest. "I drafted them just now, specifically for you, on the fly. Because I need to take a bath."

A bath? In that case, even more reason not to go.

Fuyuji cast an unobtrusive glance at the faintly blushing girl behind him and, feigning nonchalance, continued flipping through the textbook. "I'm currently in empty-nester mode. I don't want to go back."

"Come to think of it, Fuyuji-kun... there's something I'd like to ask you."

"Mm?"

Horikita swept a flat look over him and stated evenly, "That method just now—theoretically, all you had to do was hold up the phone and show it to me, correct? There was absolutely no need to hold me from behind."

The rustling of flipping pages suddenly ceased. A bead of cold sweat slowly trickled down Fuyuji's forehead. Tilting his head back for an upside-down look at Horikita, whose gaze was growing increasingly icy, he forced out a strained smile.

"Also," Horikita stepped forward another pace, closing in on him. Her slender silhouette cast an oppressive shadow in the lamplight. Her palm lifted, forming a knife-hand strike. Her long hair rose behind her without a trace of wind. "Once when we first met. Another time with the double-sided intel dealing. And once more on the uninhabited island. I've been wanting to find a chance to settle accounts with you. Just once will do. Let me vent all this pent-up resentment from being toyed with by you for so long."

"Uh... I've changed my mind. Can I leave now?" His scalp prickling with dread, Fuyuji struggled to tip the chair back down, feigning composure.

"Too late!"

The instant the words left her lips, Horikita's slender waist twisted with explosive force. Her knife-hand came slicing down toward Fuyuji's shoulder with a sharp tear through the air.

But at the very last second, just as the strike was about to land, the chair—already precariously balanced on only its two rear legs from Fuyuji's leaning—completely lost its center of gravity.

"Crash—!"

A resounding crash tore through the brief silence of the room. Fuyuji, chair and all, toppled backwards onto the floor.

And then...

After a dizzying spin, the world seemed to have flipped upside down.

Threads of a delicate, elegant fragrance—the subtle scent of a young woman—drifted more intensely into Fuyuji's nostrils. The first thing that filled his wide, startled eyes was a pair of long, straight, flawlessly fair legs, mere inches from his face.

Closest were those alabaster calves, as smooth and snow-white as polished jade. Above them, knees tinged with a natural rosy blush. Higher still, the light dimmed rapidly beneath the hem of her skirt. The full expanse of those snow-white thighs, without a trace of excess flesh, was laid out perfectly in Fuyuji's field of vision. The fine, delicate skin gleamed with a warm, moist luster under the lamplight, stretching all the way into the mysterious realm deep within that skirt...

"Whoa~"

The hem of her skirt, lifted by the rush of displaced air, fluttered gently across Fuyuji's face, leaving behind a lingering trace of warmth and a faint, uniquely Suzune-like fragrance. Sprawled on the floor, he let out a genuinely heartfelt exclamation of admiration.

"It really suits you, Suzune..."

A sacred, pristine shade of white, adorned with a small black bow...

The air conditioner's cold breeze hummed steadily. A ballpoint pen clattered off the desk and onto the floor, rolling a few circles before coming to a stop...

Everything had happened in a flash, so fast that Horikita was still frozen mid-motion, her hand held in its knife-strike posture, utterly unable to process what had just occurred.

A few seconds later, Horikita's hands shot down and clamped her skirt tight against her thighs. She stumbled backwards several steps. The look of sheer disbelief on her face morphed in an instant into towering, sky-scorching mortification and fury!

A bone-chilling, unprecedented wave of cold swept through the entire room. In the blink of an eye, her hand had snatched the cold, gleaming metal compass from her desk, its sharpened tip glinting with a frigid, deadly edge under the light.

"Fuyuji-kun—" Every single word came out like a chip of ice forced through clenched teeth. "This time, there will be no difficult or painful choices. Please..." The hand gripping the compass trembled ever so slightly from the sheer force of her grip. "...go die in peace!"

"Wait, Suzune, it was an accident! I didn't actually see anything!"

Watching the compass come stabbing straight for him, Fuyuji felt his soul practically flee his body. He rolled aside, evading the lethal strike by a hair's breadth, scrambled to his feet with both hands and feet, and bolted for the door in a mad, stumbling dash for his life.

"I'll be the judge of that! In any case, just go die happily!"

"How can you be like this? You're the one who struck me and caused it! At least try to be a little reasonable!" Fuyuji fled in panic, attempting to use words to fend off the murderous intent closing in behind him.

"I am being extremely reasonable—" Horikita was already right on his heels, "—Very well, in fact, I've just come to a realization," her voice now carrying a resolve that had completely cast aside all restraint, "I may not actually like being reasonable," the compass whistled through the air, thrusting forward once more, "violence suits me far better!"

"Bang—!"

At the very last second before the compass could strike home, Fuyuji wrenched the door lock open. He practically fell out through the doorway, then slammed his back against the door panel with full force, his hands bracing backward and gripping the door handle for dear life!

"Click!" The lock engaged with a crisp snap.

"Thud thud thud! Bang bang bang!" A violent, frantic barrage of pounding and the rattling clatter of the door handle being yanked erupted from the other side.

Fuyuji clenched his jaw, pressing his entire body weight against the door, holding it shut with all his strength.

The cacophony of clashing and banging continued for a long while. The sounds from behind the door gradually subsided.

"If I run into you in the next couple of days, you're dead," Horikita declared through the door, her voice brimming with murderous menace—a polar opposite to the soft, meek tone she'd had not long ago.

"Do you have to be this vicious?" Fuyuji panted heavily, his back still pressed against the door. "I'm your creditor and your savior, you know..."

"Those are two separate matters. Rest assured, if you end up paralyzed in bed, I'll take responsibility for caring for you every day. I'll even cook for you."

"I'll leave that honor to you, thanks."

After catching his breath for a moment, Fuyuji listened warily to the now completely silent room behind him and let out a sigh of relief.

She must have gone to take her bath.

He waited a while longer. Once he'd confirmed there was truly no further sound from within, he patted his cheeks, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and headed back toward his own room.

He needed to go calm his nerves and take another shower himself.

Horikita-girl in full rampage mode was way too terrifying.

"If you're free tomorrow, come here for a meal." The abrupt voice filtered through the door, carrying a trace of awkward stiffness.

Fuyuji halted mid-step. The corner of his mouth curved upward. He continued on toward his room. "Sure."

Just then, the phone in his pocket rang once more.

Horikita Manabu? What's he calling for at this hour?

"Is there something else?" Fuyuji raised the phone to his ear.

A long silence came from the other end of the line.

After waiting for a response that never came, Fuyuji glanced quizzically at the caller ID on his screen. "If there's nothing, I'm hanging up."

"Wait." At last, Horikita Manabu could no longer hold back and broke the silence.

"Is there something else?"

"That..."

As if an entire century had passed, Manabu's voice, laced with profound exhaustion, finally came through the receiver: "Just now... how did you get the water bottle off?"

"..."

In that instant, his stride froze mid-step. His pupils dilated. Without a single shred of hesitation, Fuyuji acted on pure bodily instinct.

"Pfft! Ahahahaha..." Laughter erupted like a geyser, echoing wildly and freely through the corridor.

Hearing the pounding footfalls of someone running and that utterly unrestrained laughter, Horikita Manabu on the other end seemed to realize what was about to happen. He hurriedly spoke up.

"Wait a moment—"

"Ding-dong ding-dong ding-dong, Suzune, open the door and come see the Lord!"

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