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... bag and leaves like a whirlwind.
After she left, Kirihara strides to the door and silently locks it.
Then, she makes a 180-degree turn.
She walks briskly towards me, sitting on the sofa, leans down, and hugs me while standing.
“...Good job.”
After offering words of comfort, Kirihara slightly distances herself.
As expected, she was thoroughly sulking, a stark contrast to her competent student council president persona.
“Sorry about that.” ...
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