A Story About a Handsome Girl Having Her First Kiss Stolen by an Equally Handsome Classmate - Episode 15

Wednesday, April 13

“The Student Council Executive Committee!”

Together with her four seniors, Wakamatsu Kaede jumped onto the stage in the gymnasium.

Introducing club activities.

The new students gather in the gymnasium, and several members of each club take turns introducing the club they belong to.

Basically, the stage was supposed to be introduced by the third-years, but for some reason, Wakamatsu Kaede was also called in. Moreover, she was right in the middle, ahead of the four seniors. She stood in the center.

“The Student Council Executive Committee is the club that plans and manages school events!”

“It’s rewarding and helps me grow.”

“We’re having fun and getting along well!”

“You can join multiple clubs at the same time, and the commitment time is short, so please come and join us.”

Wakamatsu receives a painful amount of stares from the freshmen because he stands in the center but doesn’t say anything.

“You can work together with the second-year seniors here!”

My seniors gave me a big push.

This action drew even more attention to Wakamatsu. They were probably surprised, thinking, “I thought you were a third-year student, but you’re a second-year rookie.” Wakamatsu felt embarrassed.

“We’re looking forward to you joining the club! If you’d like, please come and listen to what we have to say!”

Wakamatsu read his assigned lines out loud and quickly left the stage.

When he returned to the Student Council Executive Committee room, he was given a placard and an armband. A senior straightened out his sloppy uniform and put on the armband with the school emblem on it. “Well then, let’s recruit!” he heard a voice urge him on, and Wakamatsu went outside with a placard that said “Student Council Executive Committee” in large letters.

When I went out to the courtyard, I found many first-year students who had just finished their club orientation. They were from the volleyball, badminton, soccer, and baseball clubs. I was caught up in a whirlpool as I walked around.

We thought that we would lose to the loud and noisy sports club members, but surprisingly, some first-year students came over to us.

“You’re the one who was there earlier during the executive committee introduction, right?”

“Oh, that’s right!”

Thanks to his performance on stage, the group seemed to remember his face. He greeted the first-year students surrounding him, saying, “I’m Wakamatsu, a second-year student,” and tried to lead them to the club room.

“Can I talk to Wakamatsu-senpai too?”

“Of course. We’ll all be working together regardless of the year.”

“Is it okay if I don’t understand the management or anything?”

“Yeah, I’ll support you!”

Kyaa!” the first-year student cried.

Did what I just said make you feel bad?

“How about you just come and listen to what they have to say? The club room is right in front of the entrance to the cultural club building.”

“Where is the cultural club building?”

They were interested in what he had to say, so he thanked them and guided them to the entrance of the cultural club building. Wakamatsu waved to the five juniors, who thanked him and headed out into the courtyard again.

Surprisingly, quite a large number of people came to hear Wakamatsu speak, which made him even more enthusiastic about recruiting.

Some of the questions were difficult to lead to the executive committee, such as “Can we take a photo together?” or “Can we exchange LINE IDs?”. Nevertheless, Wakamatsu put in his best efforts to recruit, and after sending a certain number of people to the club room, he left the courtyard.

Inside the school building, the cultural clubs were mostly holding up placards and recruiting people.

As I walked up the fourth floor, where the first-year classrooms were lined up, I was again called out to by about 10 first-year students.

Wakamatsu’s recruiting efforts came to an end with his senior sending him a LINE message saying, “Thank you for your hard work.”

Taking off his stiff armband, Wakamatsu heads to his classroom. There are no students carrying placards on this floor, where no freshmen come and go.

When I returned to the classroom, I saw a familiar figure.

I approached her to call out to her, but she didn’t move an inch. Her arms were propped up as a pillow, and her face was turned toward the courtyard. She appeared to be asleep, face down on the desk.

“You’re going to catch a cold in a place like this…”

Wakamatsu’s hand stopped moving as he reached out to touch her shoulder.

“…What’s wrong, Mizuhara…”

Suddenly, Wakamatsu’s heart ached. Mizuhara had tears on her cheeks. He wiped the tears from Mizuhara Shizuku’s eyes with his fingers and looked down at her in shock.

“yeah…”

Perhaps sensing someone’s presence, Mizuhara Shizuku slowly opened her eyes.

“…huh, you were in the courtyard just now, right?”

“Well, that was about 30 minutes ago. By the way, were you watching?”

“…to kill time.”

“Oh right,” Wakamatsu replied bluntly. Mizuhara Shizuku regained her composure and began to get ready to go home as if nothing had happened.

“Want to come home with me? I’m done recruiting for today.”

“Sorry… I want to go home alone today.”

“I see, I get it. See you tomorrow then.”

Wakamatsu followed her with his eyes, not knowing what to do. Just before stepping out of the classroom into the hallway, Mizuhara Shizuku turned around and said, “Hey, Wakamatsu.”

“Hurry up and make me special.”

“Picture?”

With that said, she walked away.

What does “special” mean? She had said the word “special” once before. Wakamatsu thought about the meaning of that word while sitting alone in the classroom.