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440 – Kyousuke
🕑 Added 2025-08-10 15:00:14 +0000 UTC“Ah~~ As expected of Kyousuke. Even the sweet nothings you say offhand sound so beautiful.”
Sakura cupped her cheeks, rubbing her head against the boy behind her, squirming in an exaggeratedly shy manner.
“Dazzling… hey~ dazzling, dazzling…”
She whispered the words over and over, occasionally bursting into silly giggles, utterly intoxicated.
Beneath the blanket, Kyousuke gently squeezed her hand in response.
“That wasn’t a sweet nothing,” he said softly. “Back then, that’s truly how you looked to me, Sakura—dazzling.”
If Shouko had taught him that he could change someone’s fate without relying on the wisdom of another world, then Sakura had been the one who grounded him in this world’s reality.
Forget the flashy, fireworks-like “trash system” that had appeared out of nowhere—Sakura had been the one who showed him how this world, so similar yet different from his past life, really worked.
When an adult’s soul is placed into a baby’s body, how drastically does their perspective shift?
He hadn’t gotten to the point where stepping on an ant gave him an “EXP +1” notification, but it had been enough to make him feel deeply alienated from the world.
If not for his loving and exceptional parents, he probably would’ve gone full chūnibyō instead of becoming the laid-back slacker he was now.
“So, in Kyousuke’s eyes, I was just a dazzling little fool back then?” Sakura tilted her head rhythmically, as if listening to some imaginary song.
“A dazzling, one-of-a-kind little fool,” Kyousuke replied with a quiet laugh.
“How nice… it feels like a dream.”
Yamauchi Sakura murmured to herself.
“It’s only in your eyes, Kyousuke, that I’m this special, right?”
Under the blanket, her hands lightly caressed his, brushing over his nails—always perfectly smooth and rounded.
This boy, Kyousuke, was someone unfailingly gentle to those close to him—he’d pick flowers from the riverside grass or an elderly neighbor’s garden just to put in a vase.
He was unwaveringly just, never bullying the weak, always offering help generously, afraid of death yet never cowardly.
He was devoted to his beloved—honest and brave in expressing his feelings, passionate yet graceful.
His expressionless face could look intimidating, yet somehow still made people want to befriend him at first sight.
He was just that exceptional.
In fact, just knowing Kyousuke was enough to make someone feel blessed—proud, even.
Compared to those who didn’t know him, you’d feel like you’d won the jackpot in life.
Yes, she thought hazily, still wearing that dopey smile.
Meeting Kyousuke had been the luckiest thing in her life—like using up all her good fortune in one go.
Her fingers kept gently stroking those perfectly rounded nails.
The edges were flawlessly smooth, with a graceful curve that seemed to follow some kind of mathematical principle.
If a scholar devoted to mathematics saw them, they’d probably consider Kyousuke a kindred spirit and spend the evening discussing the vast, infinite mathematics that explained the truths of the world.
Even someone ignorant of geometry’s beauty would be charmed by the shape, thinking, Even a loser like me could at least make my nails look nice.
And of course, any manicurist would go wild over them.
Yes—Kyousuke was someone whose charm made you feel lucky just to know him.
But along with his many strengths, he also had his quirks.
He had morning temper.
If someone not on his “forgiveness list” woke him up, he’d glare at them with a look that could kill.
Even at school—if a teacher woke him and scolded him—he’d obey quietly, but keep staring with that terrifying angry face, as if issuing a death sentence.
Sakura remembered hearing that a teacher once stopped coming to class after being asked to help watch over Kyousuke’s class—because Kyousuke had scared him half to death.
He was a bit obsessive-compulsive.
While he didn’t care much about fashion, food, or drink—he could eat and wear whatever, so long as it wasn’t uncomfortable—his socks had to be labeled left and right, and his nails had to be perfectly smoothed.
To prevent nail clippings from flying everywhere, he always cut them after a bath and carefully stored all ten pieces.
Sakura had once thought:
If someone pisses me off, I could take a handful from that glass jar of nails in Kyousuke’s room, grind them into powder, and slip them into their drink!
But then she couldn’t decide whether that would be punishment or a weird kind of reward, so she abandoned the idea.
He could be extreme—if he liked a food, he could eat it every day for years. And when angry, he seemed ready to rage himself to death…
Ah~~
Even his flaws are adorable. Kyousuke is just too perfect.
Sakura giggled again, her head tapping rhythmically against his chest to some inner melody.
“That’s not true—Sakura is just as irreplaceable to others as she is to me,” Kyousuke murmured. The faint scent of papaya and milk drifted up from her hair with every laugh.
“Hehe, is that so?” Sakura chuckled softly.
“Mhm.”
“Then tell me more,” she said, pouting playfully. “Tell me more of my good points. Keep praising me—so I’ll know exactly what kind of person could win over someone as amazing as you, Kyousuke.”
Her tone was teasing, but her embarrassed squirming betrayed her shyness. Even her toes curled under the blanket.
“Ah, this is so embarrassing~” She flushed bright red and quickly covered his eyes with her hands. “Don’t look!”
Kyousuke just smiled, adjusting the blanket to wrap her snugly.
“Hurry up~” she urged.
“But aren’t you embarrassed?”
“That’s only because you don’t say it enough! If you said it more often, I’d get used to it—and then I wouldn’t get embarrassed!”
In Sakura’s world, there was no such thing as “twisting the facts.”
After all, rules were made by people—why couldn’t she set her own?
It’s not like she wanted to force her logic on others anyway.
“Haha, fine, fine. From now on, I’ll tell you every day—how a girl named Yamauchi Sakura drove Kyousuke madly in love,” he said gently.
Hearing that warm, pampering tone eased her embarrassment—though her cheeks only grew redder.
Ah~~
So this is what kissing feels like. It’s really wonderful.
No wonder Utaha-senpai is always looking for excuses to sneak one.
“Well, maybe not every day,” Sakura amended. “If you praise me too much and suddenly can’t find anything good to say someday… I’d cry myself to death. I’d feel so empty—like the world was ending.”
Sakura’s greatness lay in the fact that even if she were thrown into a vat of honey, she could still keep a clear head.
You couldn’t just drain the pond to catch fish—you had to invest.
She wanted to deposit every one of her strengths into Kyousuke’s mind, to let his unparalleled brain multiply them, and then withdraw just a little interest now and then to keep life sweet.
Yes, that was it!
“Huh?” Kyousuke let out a puzzled sound.
“What, you mean you can’t even say it once in a while?” Sakura pouted, her delicate brows furrowing as she racked her brain for more qualities to add to her “account.”
“No, it’s just…”
He paused deliberately, keeping her in suspense until the girl in his arms squirmed impatiently.
Then he smiled, still in that mock-troubled tone:
“Even if I told you every day, I’m afraid I still wouldn’t finish in this lifetime.
Because every single second with you is a memory I could treasure for life.
And even if I spoke without stopping, the things that make you so captivating would only keep growing—so I could never run out.”
“Ah~~!!!”
The girl let out a tiny, muffled scream, unable to contain her excitement and embarrassment.
Curling her toes was no longer enough—she kicked her little feet against the carpet, making a steady thump, thump, thump.
“Ah~ that’s too much!” She whispered accusingly, lowering her voice:
“My chest feels so hot it’s about to explode, my heart’s going to jump right out. God, so it wasn’t just an expression after all. Kyousuke, you’d better hold it down—if it really pops out, you have to catch it for me!”
Her voice rose and fell, sometimes low and trembling, sometimes blazing with heat—dreamy and unreal, like moonlight.
Listening to her romantic words, Kyousuke laughed happily.
Then, as instructed, he gently placed his hand on her chest—not pressing down, just resting there lightly. Now wasn’t the time for anything more.
“But isn’t Sakura’s heart already with me?” he said softly.
At those words, her restless heart instantly calmed.
She lowered the hand that had been covering his eyes and whispered:
“It is. Then help me hold on to your heart, okay? Don’t let it run away.”
She placed her own hand over his, pressing it against her chest.
Her whole body seemed to settle, as if she were melting into the sweetness of his words.
“Sakura is an important person,” Kyousuke said, returning to his original thought.
“My mom likes her. Her parents like her. My friends like her. Her friends like her.
I’m a loner—someone people tend not to like. Most of what I do is hard for others to understand. She might understand me, or maybe she doesn’t, but no matter what I want to do, she’ll be the one who supports me unconditionally.”
Nishimiya Shouko—sweet, kind, and strong, if a little clumsy.
Now she had grown into a graceful, beautiful young woman loved by everyone, but when he first met her, she wasn’t like that at all.
In Japan, the instinct to form cliques doesn’t wait for adulthood—it starts in elementary school, and the exclusion can be brutal.
That was one reason Kyousuke’s mother chose to stay in Suimon to raise her son, afraid that her already introverted boy would suffer even more if he had to switch to a new school in an unfamiliar place.
He might have seemed to enjoy solitude, but as a mother, she couldn’t ignore the risk.
Divorce, a name change, transferring schools…
Any of those could be enough to make a Japanese student spiral into despair.
Psychological scars often start from something that simple.
Maybe that’s why Mrs. Yamauchi was so indulgent toward the boy who showed up at her door with sweets for her daughter the very day after they met.
She didn’t know then that the cute, angel-faced boy was a “problem child” who scared even his teachers into avoiding class, nor could she have guessed what he would grow into.
Still, under those circumstances, when Kyousuke brought Nishimiya Shouko to meet Yamauchi Sakura, the little girl immediately and cheerfully accepted Shouko, agreeing without hesitation to be her friend.
Was it because she was charmed by Shouko’s cuteness? Hardly.
If anything, when a little girl meets someone prettier than herself, the first instinct is usually jealousy. Was it because she pitied Shouko’s situation?
Not quite. Growing up as Kyousuke’s childhood friend, steeped in the Kyousuke family’s values, she was certainly kind but not to the point of indiscriminate sympathy.
So why had she welcomed Shouko into her territory, willing to share her one and only childhood friend, her most precious treasure?
Because it was something Kyousuke wanted.
Because it was his request.
And for him, she was willing to give it her all—even to throw a punch at Ishida Shouya’s face when he knocked Shouko to the ground.
No matter what her own relationship with Shouko was, she would never let Kyousuke’s hopes be crushed.
Whoever made him unhappy, she would make them unhappy in return.
Kyousuke’s love for Yamauchi Sakura had no boundaries.
Yamauchi Sakura’s love for Kyousuke was unreasonable to the core.
“Isn’t that only natural?” Sakura murmured. After all, wasn’t that how Kyousuke treated her?
“Can you even call that a good quality?” she protested, pouting.
“Hurry up, tell me the next one. And make it a real good quality—not one of those things you dress up to make me blush.”
Sakura raised the bar.
Kyousuke chuckled.
Freeing his hand from under the blanket, he gently smoothed her hair, careful not to pull it.
“She’s someone who truly, wholeheartedly thinks of her friends. Anyone who’s ever gathered around her could tell you that. She can pull someone out of the pit of shame, help them stand tall again—make them stop feeling small, stop dwelling on the past…”
Even if they had never met, the girl named Yamauchi Sakura would still have been dazzling.
And Kyousuke believed that more firmly than anyone else in the world.
