Smells like Trouble

“Huh…?”

Fuyumi Kujo stopped mid-step, the afternoon sun spilling through the academy’s courtyard windows and painting pale gold across the floor.

The corridor in front of the notice board was its usual chaos, voices overlapping, shoes squeaking, someone laughing too loudly.

But all of that blurred at the edges when she saw him.

Arata-kun.

He was standing in front of the notice board, slightly hunched, one hand raised as he smoothed a fresh sheet of paper against the crowded surface.

His uniform blazer hung a little loose on his shoulders, dark hair falling over his eyes as he checked the corners of the page with quiet focus.

“…This guy..? Again?” Kujo-san’s lips moved before she caught herself.

“Kujo-san? Oi, Kujo-san.”

A hand waved right in front of her face. Setsuna-san-san, with her sharp bob and sharper eyes, leaned in.

“You just zoned out. What are you staring at?” she asked Fuyumi Kujo.

“Nothing,” Kujo-san said too quickly.

It wasn’t nothing though.

Just beyond Setsuna-san’s shoulder, Arata took a step back, tilting his head as if to make sure the notice was straight. The white paper stood out clearly even from this distance, the black school stamp at the top stark and official.

Kujo-san swallowed. “Um… let’s go this way.”

She pivoted slightly, angling herself so she could keep Arata-kunin in the corner of her vision without looking like she was obviously staring. Subtle. Totally subtle… Probably.

“The gate’s that way,” Setsuna-san pointed out.

“We’re not going to the gate,” Kujo-san said, already starting forward.

“We’re… checking the notice board.”

“The notice board?” The third in their little group, the bookworm Miyu-san, hugged a stack of textbooks to her chest.

She wore her glasses low on her nose, the lenses catching the light. “There shouldn’t be any new exam schedules until next month. Statistically-”

“Right, and we have to confirm that, don’t we?” Kujo-san cut in, forcing a smile.

“If it’s statistically safe, it’s also statistically fine to double-check.”

The Miyu-san blinked. “That’s… not how probability works.”

“Let her be,” Setsuna-san sighed, folding her arms.

“If Kujo-san wants to stare at a wall full of paper, that’s her right as a citizen of this academy.”

“I’m not staring at paper,” Kujo-san muttered.

She was staring at the boy in front of it.

Arata stepped further away from the board, giving the notice one final look. His expression was unreadable from this distance, but there was a strange tension in his shoulders as if what he’d just posted wasn’t something trivial like a lost and found notice.

Then he turned.

For a heartbeat, their eyes almost met, but a group of loud first-years cut between them, laughter and chatter swallowing the space.

By the time the corridor’s view cleared, Arata was already far away, hands in his pockets, the crowd parting absently around him.

“…He’s gone,” Kujo-san whispered.

“Who?” Setsuna-san asked.

“No one,” Kujo-san replied, a little too fast again.

They reached the notice board as the remaining students drifted off, satisfied or bored. Kujo-san slowed to a stop in front of the freshly posted paper.

At the top, in bold characters, it read:

Notice from the Student Council

Her eyes skimmed downward—and froze.

[Due to unforeseen circumstances, Student Council President Rei-senpai will cease direct monitoring of club activities until further notice. In her place, the council has appointed a special observer. The said observer will act as the council’s eyes and ears, supervising all clubs as a temporary measure.]

“Eh…”

The sound escaped her like a squeak.

“A spy?” Setsuna-san read aloud, unimpressed.

“They actually wrote ‘eyes and ears.’ That’s so dramatic it hurts,” she added.

The Miyu-san adjusted her glasses, leaning closer.

“They didn’t write ‘spy’ explicitly. That’s just your interpretation.” Miyu-san spoke curiously.

“Observer,” Setsuna-san repeated.

“In council language, that means spy.”

Kujo-san didn’t say anything. The word might not be printed on the paper, but it thudded through her skull all the same.

Spy.

The student council… had appointed a spy?

Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag.

‘Rei-senpai, the ever-perfect, untouchable, always drowning in work.

She had been the one monitoring the clubs for as long as anyone could remember. It was one of those truths woven into academy life, like the first bell or the cafeteria’s bad curry.

Rei-senpai didn’t go to the clubrooms. Rei-senpai descended upon them.

And now… she wasn’t going to monitor the clubs at all?’ Thought Fuyumi Kujo

“Wait,” Kujo-san said slowly, her voice catching on the thought as it formed.

“If Rei-senpai isn’t visiting the clubs anymore… and they’re sending someone else instead…”

Her gaze flicked, instinctively, to the empty spot where Arata-kun had just been standing.

“No way.”

“…Right?”

She muttered to the two as they nodded back.

“It's definitely Arata-kun,” said Setsuna-san as she gritted her teeth.

“I’ve even heard him and the president are meeting in private,” she added bitterly.

“Thats…” Miyu-san’s cheeks flushed red instantly as she shot back.

“You shouldn’t talk about Rei-senpai like that!. There’s no way she would fall for someone like that guy!” she protested.

Setsuna-san and Kujo-san glance at each other knowingly.

Although Setsuna was the one capable of teasing her about it.

“Looks like someone admires Rei-senpai a lot,” she joked.

“That’s…not it,” uttered Miyu-san weakly as she struggled to make eye contact with the confident Setsuna.

Kujo-san stepped in.

“Calm down, you two. Let’s think this thoroughly. Based on the speculations. Arata-kun might be the observer.”

“So?”

Setsuna-san scoffed in response, clearly not liking the attention Arata is getting.

“That also means that he can barge into the sports and club rooms any time,” said Fuyumi Kujo.

“Including the Badminton club of yours…” she added.

Setsuna-san’s eyes twitched in realization as she clenched her fists instantly.

“I’ll make that guy regret his life if he ever decides to interrupt my practice,” Setsuna spoke as her eyes seemed to be fuming with anger at such a situation.

Miyu-san hid behind Kujo, clutching her shoulders as Setsuna-san smirked in front of the notice board, thinking of all the vile ways she could humiliate Sato Arata when he decides to monitor her club.

Setsuna-san looked up and smiled devilishly at the notice, clearly anticipating Arata’s arrival at her badminton court.

“Why is she smiling like Arata-kun even though she hates him?” asked Miyu-san as Kujo replied.

“Let’s just hope these two don’t cross paths.”