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422 Yukinoshita Wants to Hold Everything in Her Hands
🕑 Added 2025-08-03 15:00:12 +0000 UTC“A gift?”
Kyousuke blinked in surprise, almost thinking he’d misheard.
What did he do to deserve a gift from Yukinoshita Yukino of all people?
Honestly, if she said she had a machine gun stuffed in that bulging backpack, he might’ve believed that more.
“Yes, a gift.”
For some reason, Yukinoshita suddenly switched to English.
Technically, “gift” is a borrowed word in Japanese anyway, but thanks to her flawless pronunciation, Kyousuke instantly recognized the English.
“Didn’t you give me a gift before?” she said smoothly. “This is a return gift. You didn’t think I was the kind of person who doesn’t understand basic etiquette, did you?”
Still in English.
Her delivery was fast, fluid. Off to the side, Sakura and Shouko looked completely lost.
Their English wasn’t bad, but clearly not on Yukinoshita’s level.
“I see. But… why the sudden switch to English?” Kyousuke asked, puzzled.
She had him so off guard, he almost responded in German by reflex.
Yukinoshita’s face reddened even more, but she held her ground, chin high, stubbornly continuing in English.
“Just making sure you’re qualified to tutor Katou-senpai in English.”
“Well, you certainly know how to manage your time,” Kyousuke said with a smirk, now understanding what was going on.
Immediately, Yukinoshita shot him a furious glare, her embarrassment mounting.
“If you like cracking jokes so much, why not join the rakugo club? With a celebrity like you in their ranks, they’d probably welcome you with open arms.
Maybe they’d even ask that woman, Kasumigaoka Utaha, to write you a brand-new script so you can entertain people by making a fool of yourself.”
[TL Note – A Rakugo club is a group dedicated to the Japanese art of old comedy]
‘You even know the word “rakugo”?’ Kyousuke thought, impressed but wisely kept it to himself.
Judging by the look on her face, she was two seconds away from exploding.
Man… she really is cute like this.
Was she speaking English just because she knew Sakura and the others wouldn’t understand her?
Or was she pretending they wouldn’t understand?
Then again, she’d be found out the moment she handed over the gift.
Maybe she was just so nervous she couldn’t even speak her native language properly.
Earlier, she’d already sounded like a broken radio.
As he watched Yukinoshita’s big, watery eyes—looking as if she was about to cry from sheer nervousness.
Kyousuke quickly reached out his hand to receive the gift from the goddess of justice.
His movement seemed to snap her out of it—she hadn’t even taken the gift out of her bag yet.
She hugged the bag with one arm and reached in with the other.
Okay, that totally looks like you're pulling out a gun.
Just grab the gift already. Don’t look around like that.
You're doing a terrible job at being a professional assassin.
“The receipt’s inside too. If there’s any problem, you can go back to the store. But I checked everything thoroughly before buying it.
At least, there’s no way I could break it with my strength.”
Now that she was talking about something technical, Yukinoshita seemed more composed.
Still speaking English, though now with a slight regional accent—it actually made her sound kind of playful.
“Thanks!”
Kyousuke smiled and nodded.
He was insanely curious what kind of gift she’d picked out, especially if it required a strength test but he quietly hugged the blue-wrapped box to his chest.
“What is that! What is it! Is it your birthday today, Kyousuke?” Sakura exaggeratedly gasped.
“Huh!? But isn’t Kyousuke’s birthday in February?” Shouko looked equally shocked.
“You’re such an idiot, Shouko. I was just teasing Yukino.”
Yukinoshita suppressed her urge to scold Sakura and instead kept her gaze on Kyousuke.
“I put a lot of thought into this. I hope it suits your taste.”
Her pale blue eyes locked onto him without blinking.
Kyousuke hesitated a moment and asked:
“Do you want me to open it now?”
Her expectant expression suddenly twisted into something odd as she asked in surprise:
“How will you know if you like it if you don’t open it?”
She’d switched back to Japanese.
It was like once the “bomb” in her backpack had been tossed out, her nerves finally started to settle.
She always says things that are obvious, yet no one else ever points out… Kyousuke mused.
Just like her earlier definition of “friend,” her take on giving a gift was the same—so straightforward and honest that people never even realize it.
Or maybe they deliberately avoid thinking that way.
Only someone who had no friends, who got so nervous giving a gift that she started speaking in English, could view the world with such pure eyes.
“I’m already happy just receiving a gift,” Kyousuke said gently, “but to avoid you thinking I’m brushing it off, I’ll go ahead and open it properly.”
As he spoke, Yukinoshita’s expression shifted from surprise to joy, then to nervousness again.
He set the box down on the table.
Sakura and Shouko leaned in with curiosity, while Yukinoshita turned toward the window like she was mesmerized by the sunset.
She crossed her arms, stood still—and practically turned into a statue.
Kyousuke untied the ribbon and carefully peeled off the wrapping.
A box with a baseball player on it emerged.
‘A baseball glove?’
Kyousuke blinked.
He had honestly expected a book.
That seemed more Yukinoshita’s style.
She probably would’ve gone with her personal favorite when unsure what to pick.
That’s what Sakura usually did—sometimes she’d give surprisingly thoughtful gifts, but more often she just dragged him out for a huge meal, saying:
“Happy things should be celebrated with happy things!”
To her, the real gift wasn’t the food—it was sharing her joy with someone else.
For Yukinoshita, who got nervous enough to speak in English just to hand over a present, picking one must have been incredibly difficult.
With no clue what to give, she probably defaulted to something she liked… like a book.
Also, she'd mentioned "strength testing." Books are commonly used for whacking people in the head, after all.
Maybe she tested its durability that way.
Not that she would’ve ever been hit by a teacher—anyone who tried that would probably be in jail by now.
“It’s a baseball glove!” Sakura cried out in surprise.
“And a pitcher’s glove,” Shouko added.
“Huh? There’s a difference?” Sakura blinked.
“Yep. Gloves for pitchers, catchers, first basemen—they’re all different. Look, it says so right here,” Shouko explained, pointing at the box.
“Whoa, you’re right! I never noticed that before! But how’d you even remember that, Shouko? I thought you weren’t into baseball.”
“Hehe~ I looked it up since Kyousuke-kun joined the baseball club. I figured if I learned the rules, I could cheer for him better,” Shouko said, a bit embarrassed.
“Hmm, I see.” Sakura nodded.
Then, without a care, she added:
“But remembering all the rules is too hard. I just wait until I hear the crowd scream Kyousuke’s name—that’s how I know he did something great.”
Hearing that, Yukinoshita—still frozen at the window—couldn’t help but glance back.
‘Blind faith, huh…’ she thought.
And before she could stop herself, she asked:
“What if Kyousuke has a bad game, and the crowd’s booing him instead?”
“No way!” Sakura declared without hesitation.
“What if he gets injured? Or something else happens and he plays poorly?”
“Why would he get hurt? There’s no way I’d let him get hurt and still go out to play,” Sakura asked with genuine confusion.
“Didn’t the baseball club treat Hojou like some kind of savior when they recruited him?” Yukinoshita said.
“From what I know of the baseball team at Soubu High, they wouldn’t even make it past the first round of preliminaries without a miracle.
In every baseball game, the guy who carries the whole team’s hopes always ends up on the field. Hojou is exactly that kind of person, isn’t he?”
That, too, was part of the reason she’d chosen to give him a pitcher’s glove.
“That’s got nothing to do with me,” Sakura said with a huff. “If Kyousuke gets hurt, he should rest. Right, Shouko?”
“Mhm!” Shouko nodded hard.
There was no way she’d let Kyousuke-kun go on the field injured.
“W-Well, what if… say, he just didn’t sleep well the night before and ran out of energy the next day…”
“Oh yeah, that definitely sounds possible,” Sakura immediately agreed, switching sides without hesitation.
“…Okay then, let’s say that happens. He plays poorly and the audience starts booing him,” Yukinoshita said, exasperated.
She was already forgetting why she’d brought this up in the first place.
“I’ll throw popcorn at his head,” Sakura said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“Of course you would,” Yukinoshita sighed.
“That’s not going to happen,” Kyousuke cut in.
“Right, players have their own cheering sections during games,” Yukinoshita nodded.
“I’m saying that, other than the opposing team, everyone in the crowd will be cheering for me.”
“That’s exactly what I thought you’d say,” Yukinoshita replied with a resigned smile, the kind that said, I knew you’d say that… what am I going to do with you?
“Actually, I was just about to ask,” Kyousuke said. “I’ve only been to a few practice sessions with the team. I haven’t even figured out what position suits me yet. So why did you choose a pitcher’s glove?”
“In Japan, on the Koshien stage, is there anyone more dazzling than the pitcher?” Yukinoshita asked, countering his question with another.
“I’m not the kind of person who likes being in the spotlight.”
“Coming from you, that’s strangely irritating,” she muttered. “But I’ll admit, you’ve been surprisingly modest.”
She nodded to herself, her tone gradually becoming more serious.
“You’re the kind of person who wants to hold onto everything. You don’t want to let go of anything. You try to do everything on your own.”
Her eyes locked onto Hojou’s as she spoke, slowly and clearly.
“If you’re strong enough, you can keep pitching, again and again—strike out your opponents, shut them out, drag the game into extra innings if you have to. That kind of role… I think it suits you best.”
Her voice floated through the air like an early spring breeze—still laced with winter’s chill.
From the moment she said “someone who wants to hold on to everything,” the smile on Shouko’s face began to fade.
Sakura blinked in surprise, then broke into an even brighter grin.
As for Kyousuke...
“What nonsense. I just don’t want to leave winning or losing in someone else’s hands.”
He looked straight at Yukinoshita—the girl who had seen straight through him.
There was a faint smile on his lips, but his eyes were cold, and his voice rang with steel.
“Whatever fate I end up with—good or bad—I want to be the one who chooses it.”
The atmosphere grew heavy.
Only the distant sounds of the rugby club downstairs, enthusiastically playing mahjong, broke the silence.
‘Must be nice,’ Kyousuke thought. ‘Spending your youth so freely, wasting time on the things you love.’
‘Rip.’
As the box tore open, Kyousuke suddenly smiled.
“If you joined the baseball team, Yukinoshita… what position would you play?”
“Obviously pitcher!”
The one who answered wasn’t Yukinoshita—it was Sakura.
She leaned across the table, hands planted firmly, her face just inches from Yukinoshita’s.
“You startled me! The way you were talking just now, I thought you were giving a personal introduction!”
“D-Don’t be ridiculous! I wasn’t… I wasn’t introducing myself…”
Yukinoshita’s voice trailed off to a whisper.
“Idiot. There’s no way someone like Yukinoshita could join the baseball team with her stamina,” Kyousuke said as he slipped on the glove—and then reached out and cupped Sakura’s entire face in one hand.
‘Ah… so you really can hold everything in your hand, huh?’
“Thank you,” he said sincerely, turning to Yukinoshita. “I really like it.”
“I’m glad,” she replied, snapping out of her thoughts, a radiant smile spreading across her face.
“Yukinoshita-san looks so happy,” Shouko whispered.
“Mhm! She’s like a little kid—totally unguarded. It’s so unlike her, but it’s adorable!” Sakura nodded rapidly.
“I am adorable. I’m cute no matter what I do…. That’s why it’s annoying….” Yukinoshita shot back, instantly wiping the smile from her face in a sulky huff.
‘Pffffft!’
The three of them burst out laughing.
Yukinoshita puffed out her cheeks a little in protest but eventually gave in and chuckled along with them.
By the time the laughter faded, the ever-delicate Yukinoshita was already sitting down, her cheeks flushed with an unusual blush.
Under the golden glow of the setting sun, it almost looked like she was glowing pink.
Her expression was unusually gentle.
She placed her right hand lightly over her heart and murmured:
“…So it’s not just the person receiving the gift who feels happy. The one giving it feels just as happy too.”
Seeing someone smile so sincerely… just because of your gift…
“Of course it feels good when your feelings are returned,” Sakura said.
“I’ll get you something for your birthday this year too,” Kyousuke added, opening and closing the glove like a talking puppet.
“A birthday gift?” Yukinoshita repeated, clearly stunned.
“Well yeah, we’re friends, aren’t we? Giving someone a birthday present is normal,” Kyousuke said, now the one confused.
“Ughhh, how tragic, Yukino-chan! Have you never gotten a birthday gift before!?” Sakura wailed and lunged forward to hug her.
Yukinoshita panicked, raising her arms defensively—but didn’t move to dodge.
Just like always, she never pushed Sakura away.
Even if she didn’t like it, she was awkwardly learning to accept it.
“I have gotten a birthday gift before! I got Hello, Panda-san!” she shouted.
…Wait a second.
The fact that she could immediately name a single, specific gift without hesitation—that kind of said it all.
Kyousuke’s expression faltered.
“What’s that? ‘Hello, Panda-san’? Some kind of picture book about pandas?” Sakura asked, now clinging to her.
“It’s a story written by the American biologist Mr. Land McIntosh,” Yukinoshita began confidently, “who moved with his family to foreign country to study pandas.
He wrote it for his son, who struggled to adapt to the new environment.
If you want to read it, I can lend it to you. But it’s in English. My father gave it to me when I was little.”
She spoke with such pride, like she was about to drag everyone home to start a reading club on the spot.
“… Yukino, you were already good at English as a kid?” Shouko asked in awe.
“Of course not. I didn’t understand a word at first. But I really wanted to read it, so I looked up every word in the dictionary. It felt like solving a puzzle.”
As she reminisced, her expression softened.
“So that’s why you love pandas so much,” Kyousuke muttered, the pieces clicking together.
“…Developing a personal taste is a very complex process,” Yukinoshita mumbled, clearly flustered. “Although… since it was a birthday present, I might’ve gotten more emotionally attached to it than usual.”
‘There it is. The tsundere denial again.’
“Well if you like it that much, why didn’t you just give that book to Kyousuke?” Sakura asked.
“Eh?” Yukinoshita’s eyes went wide.
