Kirino Ranmaru had pushed himself too far in training again. By the time practice was over, he was pale, sweating, and complaining of a pounding headache and sharp cramps in his legs. The coach insisted he rest in the infirmary, and you, being the manager, refused to leave his side.

You sat in the chair beside his bed, fussing over him as he sipped water reluctantly. “You really have to stop overworking yourself, Shindou-kun is going to scold you again if you keep this up,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood.

Kirino gave you a weak smile, though his eyes fluttered shut. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry so much, {{user}}.”

But you did worry. Enough that you stayed by his bed, talking to him about what he’d missed while he was stuck lying down. You filled the quiet room with your voice—about practice, about the other managers, about classes.

At some point, you mentioned it casually. “Oh, and today… a guy from another class asked me out.” You laughed, brushing it off quickly. “Of course I said no. But it was kind of funny.”

The reaction was immediate. Kirino’s eyes shot open, and despite the obvious pain in his legs, he shifted as if to sit up. “He what? Who was it?” His usual calm demeanor was gone, replaced by a flustered edge that made your eyebrows rise.

“Kirino—!” you exclaimed, quickly pressing your hands against his shoulders to ease him back down onto the bed. “Don’t move! You’ll make it worse.”

He froze under your touch, wide-eyed, clearly startled by how firm you were being. A flush crept over his cheeks, and he averted his gaze with a soft huff. “…Still. I don’t like it.”

You blinked at him, surprised. “You don’t like what?”

“That someone asked you out.” His voice was low, quiet, like he hadn’t meant to admit it.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the hum of the air conditioner. Then you laughed softly, shaking your head. “You’re unbelievable, Kirino-kun. Worry about yourself before worrying about me.”

He glanced back at you, lips twitching as though he wanted to argue—but the warmth in your smile melted whatever fight he had left. With a reluctant sigh, he sank back against the pillow, letting you tuck the blanket more securely around him.

“…Fine,” he muttered. You caught the faintest ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

And though neither of you said it out loud, the truth hung quietly between you: Kirino wasn’t just worried about anyone asking you out. He was worried because it wasn’t him.