“S-Sorry, everyone… We lost…”

The Class 2 players’ waiting room looked like the locker room of a school that had just been eliminated at Koshien (basketball tournament), a scene straight out of hell.

The players from Class 2’s intelligence division cried openly without regard for who might see, doing nothing but repeatedly offering apologies.

“I acted all cool calling myself the strategist and yet I… I…”

“It’s okay, Erina-chan…”

In particular, Mito-san, who had served as the head of the intelligence division, was completely exhausted and slumped on the floor.

Tatara-hama-san stayed close by her side, gently comforting her.

It was like a team captain consoling the ace pitcher who’d thrown a fatal bad pitch at the very end…

‘Wait, this is no time to be thinking about pointless stuff like that.’

“Everyone, I’m sorry! You all worked so hard for my sake and I’m the one who ruined everything!”

I never imagined that just watching the match would lead to something like that happening to the competitors.

But excuses didn’t matter.

Since the responsibility lay with me, the only thing I could do was bow deeply—bending at the waist well past ninety degrees—and offer my sincerest apology.

“It’s not your fault, Tachibana-kun… It’s just that our mental training wasn’t enough…”

“Cutting ourselves off from Tachibana-kun right before the match to really push ourselves might’ve backfired…”

“Lift your head, Tachibana-kun. A boy shouldn’t bow so lightly to girls.”

“That kind of thing is just so you, Tachibana-kun.”

“…Yeah.”

Admonished by the Class 2 girls who never once blamed me, I finally raised my head.

In a world with a 1:99 gender ratio that pampers men to an extreme, that kindness hurt more than usual in this moment.

“Still, the Class 3 class representative, Arasaki-san, was amazing.”

“To put up a score like that under those conditions…”

“It’s like she took us all down by herself…”

The announced scores for the intelligence division were being displayed large on the waiting room monitor and Arasaki-san was far and away in first place.

Normally, the intelligence division in the class replacement match is decided by totaling the scores of the top five participants from each class.

But this time, because of the nosebleed incident, both Class 2 and Class 3’s participants had fallen one after another into a sea of blood and it seemed Arasaki-san was the only one who managed to complete the test at all.

“Even in that situation, she got this score… Honestly, even if I’d been at my best, I’m not sure I could’ve beaten her…”

Mito-san muttered, staring at the revealed scores now that she’d finally stopped crying.

“There are rumors that Arasaki-san is the fiancée of Class 3’s boy, Nemuro-kun and that she deliberately let her class rank drop.”

“So in reality she was probably top-tier even in Class 2, or maybe even Class 1 level like Tatara-hama… We got played…”

“Then why did Arasaki-san go all out to win the class replacement match? She has to participate, sure, but if Class 3 really wins, their class’s boy would change and that’d be a problem for her.”

That part bothered me too.

After everything that happened the day before, there was no way she was in perfect mental condition.

Wasn’t her family saying anything to her either?

“Anyway, we don’t have a backup plan anymore. We have to take a win here no matter what.”

“We’re counting on you, Kuruwa-san.”

Kuruwa-san, the head of the physical division, stood up first and took the lead.

She’s tall and even in her gym uniform she looks cool.

And that gym uniform, by the way—This is bad… Even though Class 2 is on the edge of a cliff because of me, my eyes just keep drifting…

Right now, this is an extremely important turning point, like in a battle story.

Win and cling to life, lose and fall into defeat.

And yet, here I am…

‘But Honey Academy’s gym uniform really is erotic.’

It’s less a gym uniform and more like underwear.

It’s shaped like that famous sexy sports-bra brand from my previous life, leaving shoulders and chest exposed and even showing the navel and abs.

Paired with that almost-underwear, almost-swimsuit outfit are knee-high socks with zero defensive power that stop above the knee.

By the way, the colors of the gym uniform and knee-high socks are determined by class color and Class 2’s is gray.

Class 1’s is white, but Class 2’s gray was pretty popular too…

Back in my previous life, someone caused a stir on social media after insisting “This is cosplay!” while wearing underwear from that sexy sports-bra brand at a cosplay event and ended up getting banned.

“D-Don’t stare so hard, Tachibana…”

“Ah, sorry. It’s just that your gym outfit looks too e—cute.”

Kuruwa-san is tall with long limbs and her tanned skin really brings out a sporty look, so this risqué gym uniform honestly suits her perfectly.

“So… you like this outfit?”

“Yeah. If possible, I’d like you to wear it on a bed too.”

“Kyu—”

“K-Kuruwa-san! Stay with us!”

Kuruwa-san suddenly buckled at the knees like she’d been forcibly shut down, so I hurriedly supported her large body.

Whoa, I touched bare skin.

But with an outfit this revealing, it can’t be helped, right?

“Sis Kuruwa⁉”

“S-She’s dead…”

“Quick, oxygen! Resuscitation!”

The Class 2 waiting room erupted into chaos.

“Ta~chi~ba~na~-ku~n~!”

“H-Hwah, sorry Tatara-hama-san. I really went and did it again…”

Scolded by Tatara-hama-san, I snapped back to my senses, realizing yet again that I’d messed up.

I’m sorry for looking at you with lewd eyes.

But it can’t be helped! I’m a boy, after all…

“Wait a second… This might actually be usable.”

As the physical division competition was about to begin and our ace had collapsed, Mito-san—the strategist—looked deep in thought.

Huh? Is there really insurance you can take out even at this point?

“Do you have a good idea, Mito-san?”

“Yeah. But for it to work, I absolutely need Tachibana-kun’s cooperation…”

“If there’s anything I can do, I’ll help. Just say the word!”

“Please don’t say things that make uteruses flutter so casually, Tachibana-kun…”

“No, if I can make up for what I did, I’ll do anything!”

Mistakes should be corrected immediately.

As a member of Class 2, I refused to be any more of a burden to everyone.

“Okay, thanks. Then here’s the plan.”

At my words, Mito-san—the class strategist—grinned, having recovered from the earlier defeat and wearing the face of someone plotting something devious.