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517 — Michiru Hyoudou’s Figure Isn’t Cut Out for Baseball
🕑 Added 2025-09-13 15:53:40 +0000 UTCThe world doesn’t bend just because of someone’s will.
Yukinoshita Yukino had realized that ever since she was a child.
So, when faced with a certain shameless person playing a feeding game, all she could do was selectively ignore it—and at the same time do her utmost to “seal” Sakura and Shouko.
Otherwise, those two would surely open their mouths with an “aah~~” and lean toward Hojou as well.
If her long-awaited lunchtime turned into that, she’d definitely lose her mind.
And by “sealing,” well… it meant throwing herself in as a sacrifice.
“Aah~~”
As long as she obediently opened her mouth, Sakura and Shouko wouldn’t have the chance to go after Hojou.
It was all for the sake of fairness and justice in the world—absolutely not because she was falling for Yamauchi Sakura’s nonsense.
Honestly, who in the world feeds their friends lunch on the school rooftop?
Thinking this, Yukino struggled to swallow a whole piece of fried chicken cutlet.
“Don’t shove the entire thing into my mouth. It was meant to be eaten in two bites,” she scolded, dabbing at her lips with a white handkerchief.
She then turned her sharp gaze toward the clumsy feeder, giving instructions.
And that was when a strange doubt crept in—just how many times had Hojou Kyousuke done this before? He was way too skilled.
Yukari-sensei’s expression looked almost… like she was enjoying it!
“Eh? Really? But I think it tastes better if you just take one big bite,” Sakura tilted her head, peering down at the bento.
To her, the size seemed perfectly fit for a mouthful.
“But why go out of your way to design even a piece of chicken cutlet?”
“Even if it’s cooled down, as long as you control the moisture inside the lunchbox, the breading stays crisp until noon. If you swallow it whole, you lose the joy of the crust cracking apart under your teeth.
Cutting it into two bites gives you that perfect moment—the fragrant oil seeping from the crust, the crispy shell wrapping around the juicy meat inside… Cooking isn’t something simple.”
In Shouko’s astonished gaze, Yukino lectured with calm confidence.
The truth was, her home had not only a certified professional chef who ran a restaurant, but also an even more skilled private chef.
Yet neither of them would ever explain the philosophy behind their dishes like this.
“Only Yukinoshita-san would notice such details,” Shouko praised sincerely.
“This is just common sense. Besides… Hojou’s cooking is even better than mine. Last time at the dorm, he actually tailored the dish just for me…”
Yukino’s voice trailed off, unsure whether she was thinking of Kyousuke’s considerate touch in his cooking, or realizing that these two girls got to eat at that level every day.
“Aah~~”
“What are you doing?” Yukino frowned at Sakura, who leaned forward with shining eyes and an open mouth.
“There’s no way I’m feeding you.”
Her cold voice was absolute, untouchable.
“Ah~ but that bite really was amazing!” Sakura grinned.
“Just so you know, I only did it so you’d understand that cutlets must be eaten in two bites.” Yukino snapped, a hint of embarrassment in her tone. “Now hurry up and eat the other half.”
“Eh? You shouldn’t overeat, Yukino-chan. Even third-grade Kyousuke knows that much.”
“...Of course I know that too! Then why did you shove the whole thing in my mouth earlier?!”
“Oh, I remembered. Is because Kyousuke always cuts them that way. He said freshly fried cutlets are too crispy and too hot—if you bite them wrong, you can hurt your gums.”
“…So annoying…”
“Hm? What was that, Yukino-chan? You’re mumbling, I didn’t catch it.”
The black-haired girl didn’t answer.
She simply lifted the bento box onto her lap and turned slightly away.
“Just finish it. Lunch break is almost over.”
“But—”
“Aah~~ open wide, Shouko.”
…
Through all the racket, the bento was finally gone.
Yukari didn’t flee the scene in the end; instead, she pulled out a thermos and poured tea for everyone.
Holding the warm cup, Kyousuke leaned back on the bench, his shoulders unconsciously loosening.
The weather was perfect—bright sun, gentle breeze. A truly peaceful day.
Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced left and right, and sure enough, his gaze locked with Yukari’s.
Maybe she too remembered those days in Itomori—after meals, the two of them sitting idly in the hallway.
Kyousuke leaning against the wooden door, Yukari resting against him.
Of course, back then, Kyousuke was using Mitsuha’s body.
Thankfully, Yukari was light as a feather.
They shared a small smile, as if both could feel the other’s thoughts.
On his left, Shouko held her porcelain teacup in both hands, resting it on her lap.
Her eyes gazed softly into the distance—at the skyline, or perhaps something beyond the horizon—her whole presence gentler than spring wind itself.
Beside Shouko… well, as much as he sometimes felt like telling Sakura to ease up on Yukino, it was clear Yukino despite her refusals—wasn’t entirely against it either.
‘What a tsundere.’
Kyousuke raised his teacup, took a small sip, and nodded to himself.
As always, Yukino’s taste could be trusted.
“Yukinoshita.”
The sudden voice cut through Yukino’s inner struggle.
She turned toward him just as a breeze brushed past her face, sending loose strands of hair flying.
Through the veil of hair, his face blurred slightly.
She lifted a hand to tuck her hair behind her ear—when his clear voice continued:
“The baseball glove is really useful. Thanks.”
Her hand froze.
Through the drifting strands, she looked straight at Kyousuke.
“I’m glad you like it.”
Her reply was soft, maybe because the crispy breading of the cutlet had scraped her throat a little, forcing her to speak quietly.
Kyousuke gave a small nod, then turned his gaze back to that same nameless distance Shouko was staring at.
In the afternoon, they had home economics class.
Thanks to Sakura’s relentless persuasion, the teacher agreed to let them make chicken cutlets.
The rest of the class, however, had to endure a full ten minutes of Yamauchi’s “Cutlet Theory,” which included—but was not limited to—“the gum-protecting benefits of bite-sized cutlets” and “splitting cutlets into two bites as a form of gratitude to the breading.”
Yuigahama Yui and the home ec teacher were scribbling furiously in their notebooks.
The former had just managed to fry a chicken cutlet so black it could pass for charcoal.
Nobody dared to try it—except for the kind (and reckless) Yamauchi Sakura, not even Chef Yuigahama herself.
Meanwhile, the latter teacher, in the international class—Class 1-J’s home economics lesson—was lecturing with ease, earning admiring gazes from the returnee students… and a helpless, wry smile from a certain black-haired girl.
————————————————————————
After school
On the fourth floor of the special building, where the doorplate of the Service Club literally glowed and chimed.
‘Knock knock—'
“Come in.”
Yukinoshita’s voice rang out.
Just from the knock, she felt as though the fragrance of the tea in her cup had grown richer.
By the window sat the girl herself: long black hair stirred by the breeze, a porcelain teacup resting in her slender fingers.
If there were ever a word created solely for her, it would be elegant.
“Good afternoon, Yukino-chan~”
The bright smile at the doorway made Yukinoshita wonder if Yamauchi Sakura had ever known unhappiness in her life.
“Good afternoon. Shouko, you too—”
“Bento time~~!”
Her words were flamboyantly cut off.
A vein throbbed on Yukinoshita’s forehead, and a dark flame of irritation seemed to ignite behind her.
“It’s not like I like eating bentos that much!”
It took quite some time, and repeated assurances from Sakura that she had finished eating her own bento, before Yukinoshita finally calmed down.
‘Stay calm, stay calm, Shizuka, stay calm…’
Aside from the sound of Yukinoshita flipping through a book, the room was quiet, filled only with golden sunlight spilling in.
Her long, beautiful brows furrowed, relaxed, furrowed again.
The pages turned back and forth—she clearly wasn’t reading.
“Ahem…”
“What’s wrong, Yukino?”
The moment Yukinoshita cleared her throat, Sakura—who’d seemed to vanish into thin air just seconds ago—instantly perked up with boundless energy.
“It’s nothing serious. I was just checking on how the members are doing.”
“I’m great! Another day, survived safely! How about you, Shouko?”
“I’m fine too. Yep, also survived another day.”
“Thanks to the rules of crossing at the crosswalk. Traffic lights really are humanity’s greatest invention,” Sakura added.
“Hmm,” Shouko agreed sincerely, though her smile hinted she knew exactly what Yukinoshita had been trying to ask… and that Sakura was deliberately teasing.
Yukinoshita frowned, a sudden heaviness weighing down her chest.
“…Where’s Hojou? Off to the baseball club again?”
Like a child with a new toy, he’d probably snuck off to try out that glove again.
Waking up in the middle of the night just to hold it, even.
But even if he liked it, there should be limits.
He went to morning practice already—shouldn’t he at least stop by in the afternoon to tell the person who gave him the glove how it felt?
“Hojou? Oh, he’s on a date.”
The response was so casual that Yukinoshita thought she’d misheard.
“…A date?”
“Yup. A date!”
Yukinoshita didn’t press further.
Instead, she redirected her questions to why the home ec teacher somehow knew Yuigahama’s secret recipe for chicken cutlets.
Although—although she really wanted to snap at how Sakura could talk about Hojou dating another girl with such lighthearted ease.
But when she caught Shouko’s serene gaze, Yukinoshita suddenly wondered if perhaps this was… normal.
‘Normal? Hojou Kyousuke going on dates with other girls is… normal?’
No way! What kind of world would call that common sense?!
————————————————————————
Meanwhile, outside the cheerful Service Club, Kyousuke was already on a train headed to the family restaurant Megumi had chosen.
His bag was stuffed with lesson plans and worksheets he’d prepped at noon.
After all—he was serious about tutoring.
The kendo club members weren’t surprised their captain was absent.
They knew he wouldn’t overtrain—aside from daily exercise, he was disciplined enough not to spend even one extra second.
But the baseball club was puzzled.
Where was their captain, the one who never missed a day on the field?
“Touya, where’s the captain?” Nekota asked.
“Tsuchiya said he’s off doing something important,” replied vice-captain Touya.
“Important?”
“Yeah. If it works out, it’ll boost Ticket-kun’s motivation big time!”
“Wow!!”
“No clue what it is, but whatever it is—Captain’s gotta succeed!”
————————————————————————
At the same time, Tsuchiya Ryouta stood on the train, his chest swelling with unshakable determination, as though he could hear his teammates’ cheers ringing in his ears.
Unlike the sharper kendo members, he wasn’t avoiding Hojou for training.
He had something more important to do.
At noon, he’d already spoken with his mom, who then contacted his aunt and uncle to confirm they could meet tonight.
Just as he’d hoped, his mom was touched he cared so much about his cousins, and his relatives were more than happy to have him visit.
After all, while his baseball record wasn’t stellar, Ryouta still attended the prestigious Soubu High and even served as a club captain.
That was enough to compare him favorably with the “legendary cousin from the Kato family” everyone praised at family gatherings.
On the other hand… there was Hyoudo Michiru.
The girl who embodied the finest traits of both the Hyoudo and Tsuchiya families across five hundred years.
She was breathtakingly beautiful, with a toned, graceful figure, and a natural talent that shone in everything she tried.
Ballet. Theater. Basketball…
Michiru had dabbled in countless activities.
Though her passion rarely lasted long, she still earned high praise from peers and teachers alike.
In fact, Ryouta had always felt her talent for baseball far surpassed his own.
As kids playing sandlot ball, he could never catch her pitches, while she effortlessly hit his throws out of the park.
Then he’d end up running after the ball and apologizing to neighbors for broken windows, while Michiru laughed until her stomach hurt.
Baseball didn’t interest her—she just enjoyed watching her cousin flounder.
Back then, Ryouta thought that if Michiru ever pursued baseball seriously, she’d achieve great things. But as she grew older, his thoughts shifted.
It wasn’t that her talent had faded. It was that Michiru’s physique had become… too stunning.
The kind that made women jealous and men drool.
Honestly, it wasn’t suited for baseball at all.
When she swung the bat, the first thing she’d hit probably wouldn’t be the ball…
‘No no no, Ryouta. Stop imagining that about your cousin.’
He quickly recited silent prayers to clear his head—but still, he couldn’t help feeling grateful that Michiru had grown into such a dazzling beauty.
