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489 – A Serious Chuunibyou Is Truly Terrifying
🕑 Added 2025-09-01 15:00:24 +0000 UTCIn the end, Yukinoshita Yukino still didn’t agree to Yamauchi Sakura’s invitation to go flower viewing.
“Ehh, how can you say no? This is like something out of a dream, you know,” Sakura pouted.
If anyone else said they wanted to see cherry blossoms in full bloom this late in the season, people would think they were dreaming.
“Sorry. My sister… well, Nee-sama said if she doesn’t get to eat my cooking tonight, she’ll go on a hunger strike.” Yukino lowered her gaze.
She really did want to accept Sakura’s invitation, and she was curious about cherry blossoms still blooming in late April, but she couldn’t ignore her sister’s demands.
“Forget about her. For all you know, the moment you open your front door you’ll catch Haruno stuffing her face. If it were me, that’s what I’d do. And Haruno’s way worse—she’d probably order delivery and only get enough for one person.”
“…You’re not wrong.”
Yukino gave a bitter smile.
She knew her sister too well.
Even as Sakura spoke, an image was already forming in her mind—opening the front door to find Haruno lounging on the sofa, cramming a huge slice of pizza into her mouth.
But even so, Yukino couldn’t bring herself to reject her sister.
On the other side, Hiratsuka Shizuka had also received Sakura’s invitation.
The beautiful teacher who’d already weathered quite a storm today was sorely tempted.
‘Cherry blossoms blooming at the end of April… maybe that tree has turned into some kind of cherry blossom deity.’
‘If I prayed to it, maybe it’d grant me the perfect marriage partner.’
‘No, that’s too greedy. It doesn’t have to be perfect, I’ll settle for just… just…’
Her whispered mutterings were loud enough for the three others to hear clearly.
Yes, Hiratsuka-sensei had said it out loud.
“…I’ll pass. I already promised Miki I’d drink at her place tonight.”
Clenching her teeth, Hiratsuka decided beer was the only way to soothe her parched, lonely heart.
“By the way, where’s Nishimiya? I was hoping to talk to her about Kawasaki Saki.”
“Oh, Shou-chan? Her agency had some business today, so she asked for the day off,” Sakura replied casually.
“A voice actress, huh? Must be nice. You can shout all the cool lines you want and nobody calls you a chuunibyou.” Her voice dripped with envy.
Clearly, someone who quoted manga lines every day had taken her fair share of ridicule.
“I wonder if Nagasawa-sensei actually does the Kamehameha pose when dubbing Goku.”
“No. Reality’s a hundred times worse than you imagine.” Hojou Kyousuke mercilessly shattered her fantasy:
“When you’re standing there watching a tall, dignified lady in her thirties yell ‘Shut up, Shut up, Shut up!’ in a squeaky high school girl’s voice, the dissonance is so strong you start questioning the boundary between reality and fiction.
And it’s common for sixty-year-old veterans to voice seventeen-year-old girls.
Honestly, the hardest part isn’t the acting—it’s the poor people waiting for their turn, trying not to laugh or make a weird face.”
He’d seen it himself when he went to pick up Shouko at her agency.
On the way back, she’d chattered nonstop about how shocked she was to hear old Kitani-sensei calling someone “onee-chan.”
Just the thought of having to play the “big sister” to such senior actors left her too nervous to speak… the kind of troubles only a successful voice actress could have.
“But don’t you think there’s something moving about hearing anime lines spoken out loud by real people? It makes me want to cry!” Hiratsuka said, her voice trembling with passion.
Kyousuke could actually understand.
It was like those guys who couldn’t resist miming a basketball shot as they walked down the street.
He too had often struggled to suppress the cursed power sealed in his right hand—especially while waiting for a train or an elevator.
The moment the doors opened, his hand would twitch, aching to rise as he muttered forbidden incantations.
Of course, he wasn’t quite ready to leave this planet yet, so he couldn’t let his right hand destroy his life.
Still, he understood the thrill of hearing a voice actor deliver a classic line in person.
That was why he’d been so excited when Chief Editor Shimomura arranged for him to land a role in Neighbor, Neighbor, Neighbor.
Just the thought of hearing Misaki Miu—the clumsy heroine say in that perfectly natural voice, “Ah, I’m just way too cute, aren’t I?” live in the studio… what bliss.
Even better, Shouko had told him that Miu’s voice actor was a cool, aloof older woman—the contrast alone would boost the whole experience by twenty percent.
He and Eriri, the lead key animators, had even pulled strings with the studio to let them move their desks into the recording booth during voice sessions.
They planned to sketch while listening live.
Embarrassingly enough, the two of them each had three assistants:
Sakura, Naoka, Utaha, Mitsuha, Yotsuba, and Yuzuru.
Of course, the lineup rotated—Yukino Yukari was also a diehard fan of the series.
If it weren’t for certain connections, such a ridiculous request would’ve been shot down immediately.
Realistically, they’d probably only get to visit the studio during recordings.
After all, this was still professional work.
“Yeah, it really would be moving. Oh, right—I forgot to mention. Hiratsuka-sensei, that anime you’re always talking about, Fist of the North Star? The one who voices Kenshiro, Akira Kamiya-sensei? He’s in the same agency as Shouko.”
Kyousuke’s smile instantly set Hiratsuka Shizuka trembling with excitement.
So much so that she blurted out:
“If I can drink a whole can of beer through my nose, will you take me to visit the studio?”
‘…Why would that be the condition?’ Kyousuke couldn’t understand what is this women is thinking.
“Really? With one nostril or both? And is it cold beer or room temperature?”
His eyes gleamed.
He looked about ready to run to the convenience store.
“Don’t be stupid! Room temperature beer doesn’t even count as beer, I’ll tell you—”
“Enough already!!”
Hiratsuka’s roar shook the room.
The heated discussion screeched to a halt, and everyone turned toward the voice.
“We’re starting the meeting now. This is the Service Club’s first official school request.”
Yukino set both hands firmly on the table.
Her voice was calm but carried enough weight to silence even Sakura, who’d been about to ask if whiskey could also be consumed nasally.
“Ahem! Let’s all get serious! Member No. 2, Hojou Kyousuke, time to give your report!” Sakura slapped the desk, putting on her best impression of authority.
Yukino’s ice-queen expression softened—just barely.
“Hey, hey, Hiratsuka-sensei… do you think whiskey could be drunk through your nose too?”
“Uh… actually, I can’t do it myself. I just saw someone else once. Next time I see him, I’ll let you know.”
“Yay! But you’ve gotta practice too, Hiratsuka-sensei!”
‘Bam! Bam!!’
Yukino slammed the table twice, hard.
The two idiots leaning together immediately snapped to attention, faces suddenly serious.
“Hojou, looks like the reflection essay you owe me tomorrow just got one page longer. How could you betray Yukinoshita’s trust like that?!” Hiratsuka Shizuka declared with righteous indignation.
Kyousuke rolled his eyes internally.
Not worth replying.
A woman who can’t even drink beer through her nose has no value.
No wonder she’s still single.
Come to think of it, when he last borrowed supplies from the admin office, he noticed the purchase logs.
These classroom chairs were probably around the same age as Hiratsuka-sensei.
Maybe he should introduce them?
At least the chair was reliable—comfortable to sit on, never complained about farts or underwear adjustments.
Practically the perfect marriage partner.
After letting his mind wander with nonsense for a bit, Kyousuke straightened up and turned toward Yukinoshita.
“The request wasn’t a failure. Kuroda personally told me he was grateful for the Service Club’s help, and he was satisfied with how things turned out.
He also asked me to apologize to the president on his behalf—said he was too embarrassed to thank you face-to-face.”
“…I see.”
Yukinoshita nodded lightly and scribbled a few lines in her notebook.
“I had more questions I wanted to ask Kuroda directly, but if he can’t come, I’ll ask you instead. That’s fine, isn’t it?”
Kyousuke nodded.
He had already braced himself—this wasn’t exactly a normal club with a normal purpose anyway.
They say the most expensive things in life are the ones that come for free.
The Service Club’s help seemed altruistic, but Yukinoshita always extracted what she wanted during the process.
“Will Kuroda and Hatake Gorou still come to school after this?” Yukinoshita asked.
She didn’t need to hear the client’s inner monologue—it was useless.
People always lied to themselves, or misunderstood their own hearts.
Outward explanations were unreliable.
Instead, she trusted her own observations, and compared them to her reasoning.
That was how she reached her answers.
Would those boys remain friends after such a nightmare experience?
Would they keep attending Sobu High? How would their relationship shift?
Every answer became fuel for her—nourishment to refine her so-called ‘Art of Understanding the Human Heart.’
“They’ll be back. The only reason they skipped school today was because they stayed up all night drinking. It’s not like they’re afraid of classmates’ judgment. Their skin is way too thick for that.”
Kyousuke kindly offered some extra info.
‘Scratch, scratch, scratch—'
As her pencil flew across the page, the sound of sketching lines and jotting notes filled the room.
Yukinoshita’s expression was utterly serious.
Both Kyousuke and Hiratsuka felt the absurdity of the scene.
This intelligent, logical girl was earnestly, seriously, researching something called the ‘Art of Understanding the Human Heart.’
A name that sounded like a video game skill.
‘Why am I the one being called chuunibyou here?’ Hiratsuka fumed inside.
So what if she liked quoting manga lines, or referencing tokusatsu plots?
It wasn’t like she actually practiced Navy Six Styles in real life.
But Yukinoshita?
She was wholeheartedly studying a skill with a chuunibyou name like ‘Art of Understanding the Human Heart.’
Feeling indignant, Hiratsuka turned her head—only to meet Kyousuke’s gaze.
In his eyes she saw sympathy… encouragement even.
Heart thumping, she spoke out decisively:
“Yukinoshita, I’m not against you researching this. But can you at least drop the chuunibyou name? Call it something normal, like, I don’t know…”
Her brow furrowed. Damn it.
Yukinoshita’s aura was contagious.
She almost blurted out something like ‘Countermeasure Division for Chicken and Duck Deaths.’
Instead, her head filled with terms like Sharingan and Puppet Beasts.
‘Too dangerous. This girl is too far gone,’ Hiratsuka thought with dread.
‘A serious chuunibyou is the scariest kind—she nearly dragged even a mature, grounded adult like me down into her nonsense.’
Meanwhile, Kyousuke could only click his tongue in pity.
‘Sensei. How dare you speak to President Yukinoshita so casually?’
Sure enough, Yukinoshita set down her pen and fixed Hiratsuka with a calm, cutting stare.
Her lips parted slightly—
“Wait!”
Sakura suddenly yelped, yanking Kyousuke backward by the arm and shoving Hiratsuka forward.
In an instant, their positions had swapped.
Hiratsuka now faced Yukinoshita head-on, no buffer in between.
“Okay now, go ahead~” Sakura beamed, her expression all sugary flattery.
Yukinoshita didn’t seem annoyed at the interruption.
On the contrary, she even cast Sakura an approving glance before turning back to Hiratsuka.
“The Art of Understanding the Human Heart isn’t some supernatural trick. It’s an ability grounded in science.
Every human action has a cause—even those with mental illness aren’t exempt. People share common traits formed through perception and change.
Driving all behavior is an individual’s motivational system, their personality tendencies.
That includes needs, desires, interests, ideals, beliefs, values, worldviews… If you want to truly master this, you must—”
“Stop, stop, stop! I get it already! I was wrong!” Hiratsuka clutched her head and groaned, cutting her off.
“This isn’t about right or wrong—it’s about cognition! I’m not trying to change your worldview, Hiratsuka-sensei, I’m just—”
Yukinoshita’s once-calm tone grew faintly irritated.
“Eek! Okay! I understand! I understand everything now!” Hiratsuka suddenly leapt to her feet, clapping like she’d discovered enlightenment.
With a strangely blissful smile, she skipped toward the door in what looked like a ballet routine.
“Hiratsuka-sensei, what’s wrong with you…”
At that voice, Hiratsuka’s smile vanished.
She bolted for the hallway in a full-on sprint.
“I’ll be back tomorrow! You’d better all be ready for me!”
…Oh, Shizuka. Kyousuke sighed inwardly.
That line was straight out of a comedic villain’s script. And really—couldn’t she remember she’s not married yet?
