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487 – All Hail Yukino
🕑 Added 2025-08-31 15:00:19 +0000 UTC“Sorry, boss, I’ve caused you trouble again.”
Kisaki Tetta bowed his head low, his posture rigid and respectful.
“It’s fine. You did well.” Hojou Kyousuke waved his hand dismissively.
The two were standing in the connecting hallway of the multimedia building.
Students bustled back and forth in the corridor—some still in their uniforms, others in sportswear.
Most had just finished cleaning duties or cram sessions and were now hurrying off to their club activities.
Like them, plenty of others lingered to chat.
Some couples even skipped their club meetings entirely to flirt in the hallway.
But unlike everyone else casually chatting, nearly every passing student greeted Kyousuke as if he were some kind of NPC in a starter village—one of those you absolutely had to talk to in order to trigger the next quest.
“…Good luck with training,” Kyousuke said with a smile, waving off a soccer club member.
Then, during the lull, he turned back to Kisaki and lowered his voice.
“Yakuza types are ruthless, underhanded, and violent. You can never be too careful. Still, things are easier now that Doma-san and I have become friends.
Since the Doma boss went out of his way to help me, make sure to send him a gift.
Didn’t the publisher send over another batch of merch recently? Take some over—his kids at home will probably love it.”
“Understood. I know what to do.” Kisaki nodded firmly.
He knew his boss’s nature well.
Once you lifted a rock, you had to be ready to deal with the snakes underneath.
If you didn’t crush a venomous snake completely, it would only come back to bite you later.
Against underhanded, ruthless enemies, you had to strike once, hard enough to bury them, so deeply that even the sound of Kyousuke’s name would make them tremble.
“Hojou-kun, why are you walking so slow?” A sudden voice cut into their conversation.
Turning around, they saw her.
Yukinoshita Yukino—her expression so frosty it looked like her breath could freeze the air—was striding briskly ahead.
Following right behind her was Hiratsuka Shizuka, all smiles and waving energetically like she’d just hit a home run.
Watching Hiratsuka-sensei’s spirited energy, Kyousuke couldn’t help but feel something odd.
She really was a strange woman.
No matter how recently he’d… benefited from her company, whenever he saw her again, no romantic feelings stirred.
Instead, he just wanted to throw an arm around her shoulders, drag her to an izakaya, and knock back drinks while watching baseball.
“Good afternoon, Madam President,” Kyousuke raised a hand toward Yukino.
“Good afternoon, Hojou-kun.”
For some reason, Yukino felt a wave of relief upon seeing him.
It wasn’t that she was happy to see him—she hadn’t sunk that far.
It was just that Hiratsuka-sensei was unbearably annoying.
Between two evils, she’d take the lesser. Kyousuke might be fond of sophistry, but at least he played by the rules.
Hiratsuka-sensei, on the other hand, liked to declare, “My subjective judgment is the only standard that matters,”—a complete barbarian.
“Boss, I’ll head over to kendo club first.” Kisaki excused himself quietly, nodded at the two women, and slipped away.
Yukino, who had seemed in a rush before, slowed her steps now.
She didn’t strike up conversation with Kyousuke, though, simply heading toward the multimedia building in silence.
It wasn’t that she was shy—she simply wasn’t much of a talker unless she was dismantling someone with sharp words.
She could go a whole week without speaking if nothing required her to.
And chatting in a hallway, where everyone around could overhear their conversation?
That violated her sense of etiquette and privacy.
So, until Kyousuke caught up, only Hiratsuka-sensei was talking nonstop, while Yukino’s silence only made her walk faster.
“Hojou, this is your fault, you know,” Hiratsuka chided, giving his shoulder a firm pat. “Wasting time with your nonsense and making Yukinoshita wait until she’s pissed off—remember to apologize properly later, alright?”
“Don’t pin this on me. Pretty sure it was you who annoyed her, sensei.”
Kyousuke denied flatly.
Yukinoshita wasn’t the type to lose her cool so easily.
If he’d told her he’d be late, she’d probably just sip tea, read her book, and wait.
At most, when her patience finally wore thin, she’d sigh softly and murmur, ‘It seems Hojou Kyousuke isn’t coming after all.’ Graceful and precise, nothing more.
“I’m serious! The first thing she said when she saw me was, ‘Where did you hide Hojou Kyousuke?!’ You should’ve seen her face—”
“Hiratsuka-sensei,” Yukino’s frosty voice cut in from ahead, “I just remembered that the Service Club isn’t meeting today. Whatever you wanted to discuss, please save it for another time.”
Knowing the girl’s personality that’s incapable of lying.
Hiratsuka immediately believed her.
“Huh? Then why did Hojou say he was heading to club? And didn’t you say earlier you had business with him there?”
“…That was the case earlier.”
“…That’s really sudden,” Hiratsuka muttered, finally dropping the subject.
But she still shot Kyousuke exaggerated winks, clearly meaning, “See? I told you!”
Kyousuke couldn’t help thinking she was just like those goofy “wingman” friends from his past life who pretended to be professional but only made things worse.
The walk continued mostly in silence.
The only interruption came when Hiratsuka tried to buy a drink from the vending machine, only for Yukino to stop her with the reminder:
“There’s tea already prepared in the clubroom.”
“Whoa, did you guys make this sign?” The moment they reached the fourth floor, Hiratsuka’s eyes went wide.
Normally, this floor was completely deserted—nobody used it except during preparations for events like the sports festival.
But today, it was bustling.
Colorful neon lights filled Hiratsuka’s vision.
At the end of the hall stood a glowing signboard made of flashing neon tubes.
The massive characters spelled out “SERVICE CLUB,” shifting colors nonstop in an eye-searing display.
Behind it blinked strings of random slogans:
“Wanna ease your worries? Get rich quick!”
“Justice Superhero—Unlimited Power!”
“Pray three times, and all your wishes come true!”
“W-Woah…” Hiratsuka was frozen, her face glowing with awe and admiration.
Yukino, however, reacted in the exact opposite way.
The moment her eyes fell on the chaotic mess of colors and slogans, her beautiful features darkened.
Not even the flashing rainbow could dispel the storm cloud on her face.
Yukino walked forward, head lowered, silent.
Despite wearing soft indoor shoes, her steps echoed with the sharp authority of leather heels striking the floor.
“This is incredible, Hojou! Is this really Service Club room?!”
Hiratsuka said while her excitement unrestrained, and turned to Kyousuke with shining eyes.
Kyousuke blinked.
He had no idea what was going on either.
Judging by Yukinoshita’s face, she didn’t know either.
Wait—was this the work of the “If Phone Booth” or something?
Their eyes met, both reflecting the same confusion, before shifting to Yukino at the front.
The girl strode to the door, her presence sharp and intimidating—so much so that Hiratsuka Shizuka half-expected her to kick it down in the next second.
At this point, the atmosphere practically demanded it.
But no. Despite the stormy aura, Yukino took a steadying breath, her long black hair shimmering under the rainbow glow of the sign, and raised her hand.
‘Knock, knock.’
That’s right. In Yukinoshita Yukino’s world, barging in without knocking was absolutely forbidden.
“Who’s outside~~~?”
A cheerful, singsong voice echoed from inside the classroom.
Yukino’s face darkened even further, while the two behind her couldn’t help smiling.
“It’s me. Yukinoshita Yukino.” Her small fist clenched at her side, her reply tight and restrained.
“Ohhh, it’s Yukino-chan~! What brings you here?”
“Pfft—hahaha!”
Hiratsuka burst out laughing, unable to contain herself at seeing Yukino flustered.
As someone constantly scolded for not knocking, she wanted to give Yamauchi Sakura a standing ovation.
Yukino shot her teacher a murderous glare before pushing the door open.
“Ahh~ Yukino-chan, how could you come in without permission? I was changing, you know.”
The dramatic protest made Yukino instinctively block Kyousuke from entering behind her.
But realizing how ridiculous it was, she let out a frosty sigh, stepped aside, and walked in.
“So what, putting on an outer jacket is something that can’t be seen?” she asked icily.
“Eh? I never said that. I just told you I was changing,” Sakura replied with a radiant grin, sounding more delighted than ever.
“Oh, Hiratsuka-sensei!” she greeted brightly, then bounced over with light steps and slipped something into Kyousuke’s hand.
Kyousuke glanced down—it was a small, pink remote with only one button.
His brain, shaped by years of exposure to certain doujinshi, immediately jumped to a very specific “egg-shaped” possibility.
Before Sakura could speak, Yukino snapped coldly,
“Didn’t we agree to stop this nonsense? Aren’t you embarrassed playing with things like that?”
Huh?!
Kyousuke’s eyes went wide.
Shocked, he glanced at the black-haired girl in front of him.
His gaze drifting from her flawless face, to her modest chest, down to her slim waist, and flat stomach… where his eyes froze.
“Kyousuke, Kyousuke! Try pressing it once!” Sakura’s sparkling eyes practically begged him.
“…What does this even turn on?”
“Don’t you dare!” Yukino shouted, her voice uncharacteristically panicked.
“Ahem. As your advisor, I should know what you’re doing. Let me press it,” Hiratsuka said, reaching out eagerly.
“Absolutely not!”
“Aw, what’s the harm? Isn’t this great? The Service Club’s stuck on the fourth floor where no one notices it.
Even if people come up here, they usually think it’s deserted. But now? One glance, and everyone will see us!” Sakura explained, completely unfazed by Yukino’s fury.
She’d long since adapted to her icy glare, and honestly, she’d been like this from the very beginning.
Hearing that, Kyousuke realized what she meant.
Of course—it was the neon sign at the entrance.
This remote wasn’t for anything scandalous. It was just the switch.
He pressed the button.
A deafening blast of music erupted instantly.
“Justice Superhero, almighty and invincible! Bow three times, and your dreams will come true! All hail Yukino! Everyone loves her—!”
With bouncy karaoke-style rhythm, Sakura’s cheerful voice blared from the speakers.
Her lyrics didn’t rhyme in the slightest, but the sheer confidence was overwhelming.
Under Hiratsuka Shizuka’s stunned gaze, Yukino seemed to drain of all color, becoming a monochrome figure of despair.
Kyousuke, feeling a pang of guilt, pressed the button again.
The music switched tracks.
“Yukino Yukino! Yukino, oh yeah! Yukino, let’s go!”
Sakura’s voice once again dominated the speakers, chanting Yukino’s name in every silly tone imaginable.
The repetition was brain-meltingly catchy.
“Turn. It. Off. NOW!”
Yukino snatched the remote with a deadly glare—only to realize there was no “off” button.
Just a track-skip. Sakura had apparently recorded over a dozen songs like this.
No wonder Yukino looked ready to murder her.
“Fiiiine~”
Sakura stuck out her tongue at Kyousuke playfully before skipping over to the corner.
She yanked the plug, and at last, silence returned.
“Yukino Yukino”
Hiratsuka Shizuka couldn’t help herself, still humming the cursed hook under her breath.
“Sensei,” Yukino’s gaze turned arctic, “I strongly recommend you go home and rest. Your mental state is deeply concerning.”
“Ahahaha… sorry, sorry. It’s just—your name is so rock-and-roll! Maybe one of your ancestors was a legendary musician.”
Hiratsuka laughed awkwardly.
The tune was still stuck in her head, and it was taking all her willpower not to belt it out.
“Sakura truly has an eye for beauty,” Kyousuke said sincerely—more impressed that she’d managed to pull this off right under Yukino’s nose.
“Mohaha~ Kyousuke, what do you think of the sign outside? Does it need improving?” Sakura asked with a mischievous grin.
“I think the main feature should be a bust portrait of Yukinoshita, covered with an acrylic panel, lavender-blue lights lining the edges, and her eyes glowing white—” Kyousuke immediately launched into enthusiastic suggestions.
“Eh? Then put me on it too! I am the advisor, after all!” Hiratsuka protested.
“In that case, we’ll need to re-record the BGM too. Sensei, you can sing with us!” Sakura agreed instantly.
“You three… cut it out already!” Yukino snapped, her patience at its limit.
