The Medical Emergency and the Battle for Triage

The moment Kato-kun's eyes rolled back and he slumped to the floor, the gym's tense, competitive atmosphere shattered and reformed into a chaotic scramble for dominance. His unconscious body was no longer just a fainted student; it was a strategic objective.

"Stand back! Give him air!" Ms. Mori's voice cut through the initial shock, her playful tone vanishing, replaced by the sharp, no-nonsense command of a medical professional. She was instantly in her element, kneeling beside Kato-kun, her fingers already checking for a pulse. "It's just a simple vasovagal syncope. Performance anxiety. He'll be fine."

She had seized control. This was her domain. The other women were momentarily relegated to the status of concerned onlookers.

"I'll get my first-aid kit!" she declared, looking directly at me. "Tanaka-kun, your arms are steady. Help me lift his legs. We need to get the blood flowing back to his brain."

It was a legitimate medical order. It was also a brilliant tactical move to conscript me as her medical assistant, isolating me from the others under the unimpeachable banner of a health emergency.

But before I could move, another force intervened.

"Unacceptable!" Ms. Sato, the demon P.E. instructor, barked, striding over from the other side of the gym. "Moving a potentially injured person without a full assessment is against safety protocol. Miyamoto! Call the main office and have them put a proper gurney on standby. Do not move him until I've cleared him for spinal integrity!"

Ms. Sato had just deployed her own ultimate weapon: The Rulebook. She was using her authority over gymnasium safety to directly challenge Ms. Mori's medical authority. It was a clash of titans, a battle of Faculty vs. Faculty.

Asuka, delighted to have a direct order, immediately sprinted off, yelling, "On it, coach!"

Reina Kujou, her face a mask of cold fury at this chaotic turn of events, stepped forward. "This incident occurred during an official Student Council program," she announced, her voice ringing with authority. "As the President, I am taking full responsibility. Assistant Tanaka, you will prepare a full, detailed incident report. Ms. Fujii, you will contact the student's parents and calmly explain the situation. My office will handle all official school communication."

She was re-establishing control, not by participating in the triage, but by taking command of the administrative fallout. She was turning the chaos into a bureaucratic procedure that she, and only she, could manage.

Ms. Fujii, her face pale with genuine concern for Kato-kun, immediately nodded. "Of course, President Kujou," she said, pulling out her phone and moving a respectful distance away to make the call, her nurturing role now officially sanctioned by the Student Council itself.

I was now caught in a deadlock, surrounded by four powerful women, each of whom had just given me a conflicting order or role. Ms. Mori wanted me as her medical assistant. Ms. Sato wanted me to stand by. Reina wanted me to be her incident reporter. Ms. Fujii wanted me to be the concerned senpai she could report back to the parents about.

It was a four-way tug-of-war for my immediate future, all happening over the unconscious body of my poor tutee.

And that's when my campaign manager made her move.

Yui, who had been observing from a distance with Shiori, strode confidently into the fray. She didn't look at Reina, or Ms. Mori, or any of the teachers. She looked directly at me, her expression one of calm, unwavering support.

"Kaito," she said, her voice clear and firm, cutting through the other voices. "You look pale. You've been overworking yourself, and this must have been a shock for you. You shouldn't be here."

It was a brilliant flanking maneuver. She wasn't challenging their authority over the situation; she was challenging their authority over me by focusing on my 'welfare'.

"He is my assistant—" Reina started.

"He is my patient's primary stressor—" Ms. Mori countered.

"He is a witness—" Ms. Sato declared.

Yui ignored them all. "Shiori," she commanded, and Shiori, who had followed her, immediately stepped forward, holding a bottle of water and one of the pastries from the care package she had apparently saved for just such an emergency.

"Tanaka-kun," Shiori said, her voice soft but surprisingly steady. "Hamasaki-san is right. You should sit down. Please, have some water." She offered me the bottle, her presence a quiet, grounding force in the middle of the escalating chaos.

The two of them, Yui and Shiori, had formed a small, protective bubble around me. They weren't trying to control the situation; they were trying to extract me from it. It was a brilliant defensive strategy.

The tension in the corner of the gym was now at a breaking point. The four authority figures were in a standoff. Yui and Shiori were trying to pull me away. Kato-kun was still blissfully unconscious.

And then, a new, unexpected sound broke the stalemate.

The faint, unmistakable sound of a phone camera's shutter click.

Click.

Every head snapped in the direction of the sound.

Standing just outside our chaotic circle, partially hidden by the bleachers, was a girl from the school newspaper club, her phone held up, a look of journalistic ecstasy on her face.

She had just captured the photo of the year: Student Council President Reina Kujou, star athlete Asuka Miyamoto, Nurse Chizuru Mori, P.E. Teacher Emi Sato, and Homeroom Teacher Ayako Fujii, all in a heated confrontation over a fainted first-year and the school's most talked-about boy, Kaito Tanaka, who was being offered a pastry by a shy librarian while his childhood friend stood guard.

It was a scene of such beautiful, convoluted, scandalous chaos that it was destined for the front page.

The moment the girl realized she'd been caught, her eyes went wide with panic. She turned and fled.

"Stop her!" Reina commanded, her icy composure finally shattering into pure, unadulterated rage. The potential PR fallout from such a photo was unthinkable.

But it was too late. The evidence was out. The carefully managed chaos of the Mentorship Program had just escaped its containment field and was about to go public.

In the ensuing moment of shock, Yui seized the opportunity. She grabbed my arm. "Now," she hissed. She and Shiori practically dragged me away from the scene as Reina was distracted by the fleeing photographer and the teachers were distracted by the still-unconscious Kato-kun.

We retreated to the far side of the gym, watching the disaster unfold from a safe distance.

"That," Yui breathed, a look of horrified awe on her face, "was a complete systemic failure. Every faction made a move, and it resulted in a catastrophic stalemate and a major intelligence leak."

"So... what happens now?" I asked, my voice trembling.

"Now?" Yui looked at the chaos, then back at me, a grim, determined smile on her face. "Now, The Warden has a PR crisis on her hands. The 'perfect' program has a flaw. And a flaw is something a good campaign can exploit."

The wail of an approaching siren signaled that Asuka's call for a gurney had been interpreted as a call for an ambulance. The chaos had just leveled up again.

The battle for triage was over. The battle for the narrative was about to begin.