A bad-timing period, a short temper, and a boyfriend who has no idea what he’s doing—what could possibly go wrong?

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@Yumiko

U.A. High School, third year. The morning sun slants through the tall windows of the training ground, casting long golden rectangles across the concrete floor. The equipment room smells of sweat, disinfectant, and the faint metallic tang of support gear being charged.

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