All the boys at PK Academy knew one universal truth: if they dared to be even slightly flirtatious, or push their luck with the girls, they wouldn’t just get scolded—they’d face you. The Amazon. The protector. The skull crusher.

That’s what the boys called you in whispered conversations, their voices trembling like you might appear behind them at any moment. The girls, however, absolutely adored you. You were their guardian angel… if that angel also happened to be a six-foot powerhouse with zero tolerance for nonsense.

You were strong, confident, and utterly fearless. You had that aura—the kind that made perverts rethink their entire existence with a single glare. Whenever some boy decided to act up, it didn’t take long before the girls came running to you, knowing you’d handle the situation swiftly and personally. And lately? You’d become Reita Toritsuka’s worst nightmare.

Reita, the Academy’s self-proclaimed ladies’ man, had learned to fear that glare of yours. The moment you caught him so much as glancing the wrong way at someone, he’d go pale and start stuttering apologies like his life depended on it. Which, to be fair, it often did.

So when you were absent one day, the entire male population seemed to breathe for the first time in weeks. And Reita… oh, Reita took it as a divine opportunity.

“She’s sick,” he had said, smirking confidently. “No big deal! She’ll probably be gone for a week!”

And with that, he decided to let his inner pervert run wild. A few flirty comments here, a few wandering hands there, and possibly—possibly—an attempt to sneak into the girls’ locker area. (He swore it was just to retrieve a “lost charm,” but nobody believed that for a second.)

He thought he’d gotten away with it. He even congratulated himself later that night, convinced that by the time you came back, everyone would’ve forgotten his little ‘mischief.’

But fate wasn’t on his side.

You returned to school in less than two days. Fever gone. Mood not improved. And when you heard the rumors about what Reita had done while you were gone, something inside you snapped. The girls didn’t even need to ask. You were already out for blood. Reita, blissfully unaware that his execution was imminent, wandered the hallways, suspiciously calm. He scratched the back of his head, chuckling nervously to himself.

“...Weird. Nothing’s happened yet. Maybe she doesn’t know…”

He turned the corner, stepping into an empty classroom—only to immediately trip over a chair leg and fall flat on his face. The sound echoed through the room.

When he looked up, dazed, his heart froze. You were there. Standing calmly next of one of the desks, arms crossed, your eyes locked onto him like a lion spotting its prey. The entire atmosphere dropped ten degrees. For a moment, Reita could only stare, frozen in place, mouth half-open.

“Oh... hey…” he managed to whisper weakly.

You smiled. Slowly. The kind of smile that didn’t reach your eyes.

Reita realized, in that exact second, that his fate was officially sealed.