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414 The Catfish’s Resolve!
🕑 Added 2025-07-30 15:00:17 +0000 UTCKyousuke didn’t interrupt the esteemed club president.
Instead, reading the atmosphere perfectly, he got up and brought over two chairs, placing them in front of the "judgment seat."
Well, technically it wasn’t a judgment seat—but Yukinoshita’s expression was so serious, it felt like one.
Seeing Kyousuke set up the chairs, Yukinoshita looked a bit puzzled.
But Ryouma Mitsuhashi quickly cleared up her confusion.
“Actually, I’m not the one with the problem.”
Mitsuhashi shrank his neck like a guilty child when he saw his big brother personally bring out chairs for him.
He stepped into the classroom and motioned for the person behind him—Kuroda Kaito—to step forward.
Kuroda awkwardly greeted each member of the Service Club, looking as nervous as someone asking for advice on how to use a tampon.
“Whoever it is, just take a seat,” Yukinoshita said with a small hand gesture.
“Yes, ma’am.” The two nodded and hurried over to the chairs, sitting down so prim and proper they looked like kindergartners at roll call.
After that silence followed.
The Service Club stared at the two clients.
The two looked at each other, then at the senior members of the room, but neither dared to speak.
Watching their hesitant posture, Yukinoshita frowned.
She had actually been hoping that Kyousuke’s friends would bring a meaningful request.
“You’ve come to the Service Club for help. Whether it’s because you trust me or because you believe in Hojou-kun, either way, show the proper attitude a person should have when asking for help!”
Her voice was sharp and resolute, as always.
Mitsuhashi and Kuroda looked even more uncomfortable now.
They glanced at each other, opened their mouths—but still couldn’t say anything.
“I don’t remember teaching you how to be embarrassing indecisive messes,” Kyousuke said flatly as he leaned back in his chair.
Though he didn’t raise his voice, the two clients instantly shot to their feet, slamming their right feet on the ground like soldiers at attention.
“It’s Kuroda Kaito, he like to cross-dressed!” Mitsuhashi yelled.
“Yes! I cross-dressed!” Kuroda shouted, his face red as a tomato.
‘Hiss—'
A collective sharp intake of breath filled the room.
Kyousuke’s face darkened instantly, and he nearly lunged forward to strangle the two shameless idiots.
He didn’t care if someone liked cross-dressing—just don’t yell it out loud like that!
And it wasn’t just Kyousuke who was startled.
Sakura, Shouko, and Yukinoshita all had their eyes wide and mouths open, completely stunned into silence.
“W-Well... that’s certainly a complicated request...” Yukinoshita muttered with a wooden expression.
Then, as if something had just struck her, she subtly turned her face away—and began trembling.
“Hahaha! Yukino-chan, it’s not nice to laugh at other people’s hobby! Hahaha!” Yamauchi Sakura teased, clearly enjoying herself.
“I’m not laughing!” Yukinoshita replied, voice shaking.
Her usually cool tone now had a cheerful lilt.
“It’s not a hobby! Who the hell likes cross-dressing?! That’s not even the request!” Kuroda flailed his arms, desperate to explain.
“Ah, so you want us to help you develop a more feminine voice?” The ever-gentle Nishimiya Shouko asked, genuinely concerned.
“No!!” Kuroda practically collapsed under the sincerity of her gaze.
He’d just said he didn’t enjoy cross-dressing—how did this turn into some professional-level drag queen request?
“For the record, Japan’s kendo tournaments still don’t allow biological males who identify as female to compete in the women’s division,” Kyousuke added.
“What! That’s totally unfair to Kuroda-kun! That’s so backward! It’s a direct challenge to your sense of justice, isn’t it, Yukino-chan?!” Sakura shouted while barely suppressing her laughter.
“……”
Yukinoshita, who had been staring out the window, finally turned back, her cheeks now tinged with pink.
“Uhm… my sense of justice doesn’t cover that specific scenario...” she said, managing to control her expression, though there was still amusement in her voice.
By now, everyone finally understood why Mitsuhashi and Kuroda had been so hesitant.
“Oh… so it was cross-dressing after all...” Yukinoshita returned to her calm, collected self.
As she had said, when someone entrusted the Service Club with a request, it meant placing their faith in them—and that required professionalism in return.
“Alright, that’s enough laughing. Let’s be serious—pfft~”
She quickly turned her slim body toward the window again, as if something scenic had caught her eye.
And surely, the trembling of her shoulders must’ve been from the melancholic sight of cherry blossoms falling… right?
That’s what Kyousuke told himself anyway.
Still, he never imagined someone like that was among his own recruits.
“From a psychological perspective, this is what’s called identification,” Yukinoshita began, her voice regaining its usual calm and clarity.
She still didn’t turn around—probably because she knew she’d lose it if she saw Sakura’s stupidly gleeful face.
That infectious grin was way too dangerous. One glance and she’d be laughing like an idiot right along with her.
Instead, she launched into a clinical analysis:
“When a man can’t receive validation from society and struggles with the expectations placed on him.
He may unconsciously adopt the behavior and clothing of an ideal figure—typically a woman, who in his eyes has a ‘freer’ role. This isn’t a disorder or a perversion.
It’s a psychological coping mechanism—a form of emotional regulation.”
Once she finished, Yukinoshita fell silent again, listening carefully for any signs that Sakura was still giggling.
Once she confirmed the idiot had stopped, she turned around with a composed expression and looked Kuroda in the eye.
“Liking to cross-dressing isn’t wrong. You don’t need to be ashamed.”
She gave a firm nod, her clear eyes glinting with quiet pride—she felt like she now understood a new layer of human diversity.
But then, her brows knit together again.
“Why? Do any of you disagree?”
Sakura, Shouko, Kyousuke, and the two clients all stared at her blankly, Shouko’s mouth forming a little “o.”
“You’re amazing, Yukino-chan! You sounded just like those psychology experts on TV!” Sakura clapped excitedly.
“She’s right! Even our agency’s voice actors don’t sound this… this…” Shouko trailed off, searching for the right word.
“Elegant,” Kyousuke offered.
“Yes, yes! Just like when you led that Rampaging Angels rally, Kyousuke-kun!” Shouko clapped her hands in delight.
Kuroda swallowed hard.
As he imagined Yukinoshita’s icy voice analyzing his situation, everything she said clicked. He wasn’t an only child, he had an older sister.
As the heir to his father’s business, he’d been told from a young age that he’d one day take over the family company.
Even though his parents hadn’t pushed him that hard, he still felt crushing pressure.
That’s why he’d joined Rampaging Angels—to rebel, to let off steam.
Although Rampaging Angels had changed direction thanks to their boss, daily kendo training—full of yelling, getting hit, and hitting others—still served as a great stress reliever.
But compared to himself, Kuroda’s sister, who lived without a care and did whatever she pleased, always looked so much happier.
He had envied that kind of freedom since he was a child.
And so, Kuroda Kaito began wondering: ‘Was Yukinoshita-san right? Did I start cross-dressing because being a guy felt too exhausting?’
“I… I see… So that’s what it was…” he muttered to himself in deep thought.
“Idiot! What the hell are you saying?! It’s not like you cross-dressed by choice!” Ryouma Mitsuhashi smacked his friend on the back of the head.
Was this guy already addicted after one time?!
Kuroda nearly toppled out of his chair from the hit, but it snapped him out of it.
Yikes.
He gave Yukinoshita a wary glance, now seriously wondering if he’d come to the wrong place.
‘Is this really the Service Club? Or a hypnotism cult!? That logic was way too convincing!’
“Was he forced to cross-dress?” Yukinoshita muttered as she glanced instinctively toward Hojou.
If anyone here was capable of making someone cross-dress through sheer force of will, it would be him.
“Oi oi, what’s with that look?! That’s way too rude!” Kyousuke immediately protested, as sharp as ever when it came to picking up subtle jabs.
“My apologies. The subconscious really is frightening,” Yukinoshita said with a polite smile and a sincere bow.
“That’s even more insulting! What kind of image do you have of me in your head?! After all your time in the ‘Wishful Dorm,’ maybe it’s your brain that’s starting to short-circuit!”
Kyousuke bristled.
He had no issue respecting the diversity of his subordinates—but that didn’t mean he wanted them dragging him into it.
“Exactly! Yukino-chan, are you saying Shouko-chan and I don’t have enough feminine charm?!” Sakura jumped in, dramatically pointing at herself.
“…”
Yukinoshita paused.
One by one, the beautiful, unforgettable faces of various girls flashed through her mind.
Eventually, her thoughts landed on the moment she’d accidentally fallen onto Kyousuke—and the memory of his firm chest under her palms.
Her expression stiffened and her voice turned cold.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have doubted your commitment to being a shameless womanizer.”
Now that’s more like it, Kyousuke thought, though he wanted to argue that he wasn’t a womanizer but a “messenger of love.”
Still, now wasn’t the time for a grand speech, so he let it go.
He turned to the two subordinates in front of him.
After a moment’s consideration, he decided not to question Kuroda directly.
As the main party involved, the guy probably didn’t want to admit things out loud.
Mitsuhashi, on the other hand, seemed more stable.
“Mitsuhashi. Just tell the full story.”
“Yes, sir!”
Mitsuhashi saluted, then began explaining the situation—much to Kuroda’s despair.
———————————————————————
It had happened at the beginning of the year—specifically, on January 1st.
An ominously auspicious day, perfect for strange events.
But for Kuroda, that day had been anything but pleasant.
His parents had left town for business, leaving only him and his college-aged sister at home.
With the new year came new goals—and Kuroda wanted to buy a new motorbike.
But his allowance had long since dried up, so he turned his eyes toward his sister, who had five times his spending money.
He was fully prepared to go full-on dogeza for it.
But to his shock, his usually mischievous sister was surprisingly easygoing this time.
She agreed immediately… under one condition:
“Hey, Kaito, wear this and come with me to our first shrine visit of the year.”
Hatsumode—the traditional New Year shrine visit to pray for good fortune and health.
Even if she hadn’t asked, Kuroda would’ve gone with her.
But what she held in her hand was an outrageously ornate kimono with golden koi fish patterns.
‘Just kill me already!’
Of course, he refused.
No way he was going to wear that.
So why did he end up walking up the shrine steps in that exact furisode kimono?
Because his family had a certain newly established rule: on the first day of the year, you absolutely cannot refuse a family member’s request.
Yes. That rule was invented on that very day. And in exchange, his sister even bumped his motorbike budget up by two levels.
He absolutely did not give in to the power of money!
Anyway, he put on the kimono and went with his sister to a small, obscure shrine near their home.
That was the result of a fierce negotiation—originally, his sister wanted to visit Zojoji Temple, the one right under Tokyo Tower.
‘If I’d gone there, I probably would’ve never shown my face in public again,’ he thought.
The odds of running into someone he knew were practically 100%.
Determined to resist tyranny, he mustered up his manly pride and chose a random, unknown shrine—one he’d stumbled upon once and assumed nobody else would go to.
He underestimated how seriously people took hatsumode.
The shrine, usually deserted even by crows, was absolutely packed.
‘Thank god my sister’s makeup skills are incredible,’ he thought, breathing a sigh of relief.
Under her expert hands, he was transformed into a total knockout.
After all, he’d always had good hardware and software—he’d been the only guy with a girlfriend back in junior high.
Just as he was congratulating himself, someone tapped his shoulder—before he even passed through the torii gate.
“Yo, Kaito!”
He turned—and nearly died from shock.
‘Why the hell is Ryouma Mitsuhashi here?! His family lives way out in Nara!’
“Wrong person!” Kuroda squeaked, frantically trying to fake a girlish voice.
“Oh? Isn’t that Mitsuhashi?” his sister cut in with a grin. “You and Kaito planned to meet here? No wonder he was so insistent on coming to this shrine.”
‘Oh no… I forgot she knows them too!’
“Not really,” Mitsuhashi replied, still staring at Kuroda like he was a rare zoo exhibit. “I just didn’t want to deal with huge crowds, so I remembered this little place Kaito and I once found. I figured it’d be empty. Who knew it’d be packed today.”
He stared at Kuroda like he’d just discovered a panda in the wild.
———————————————————————
“Sorry to interrupt, but… could we not compare him to a panda?” Yukinoshita raised her hand, her expression and tone utterly serious.
“Uh… why not?” Mitsuhashi blinked, confused.
Wasn’t everyone always thrilled to see pandas?
Yukinoshita bit her lip and hesitated.
That reaction was very uncharacteristic—like someone who’d just seen their first panda and couldn’t handle it emotionally.
Kyousuke followed her gaze… and noticed a paperback on her desk, the cover featuring a black cat.
…?
After a beat, he tentatively offered a guess.
“Is it because calling him a panda feels too disrespectful… when you’d clearly prefer something cuter?”
As he finished, he kept his eyes on Yukinoshita’s face—and sure enough, a satisfied smile bloomed on her lips.
‘Seriously?!’ Kyousuke nearly facepalmed.
‘So this is the pride of a cat-lover versus a panda-lover…’
‘This level of conviction is terrifying! Yukinoshita… I had no idea you were this kind of person!’
Kyousuke looked at Yukinoshita like he had just discovered a new continent—stunned by this unexpected side of such a strict person.
"Yes, maybe comparing him to an alien would be more fitting." Yukinoshita suggested.
"Um, I'm still right here. Could you not revoke my human status? Calling me an alien is a bit much, don’t you think? A panda would at least be a little more—"
Before Kuroda Kaito could finish his sentence, Yukinoshita shot him a frosty glare that instantly shut him up.
What a clueless guy.
Saying something like that in front of Yukinoshita? A panda is "a little more appropriate"? Pandas are ultimate-level cute!
Kyousuke shook his head in despair at his subordinate’s intelligence.
He could clearly see the murderous intent in Yukinoshita’s eyes—she was absolutely fuming at how Kuroda and Mitsuhashi had "tainted" the name of pandas.
"Ooh, then I’ll look at Kaito like he’s an alien or something," Mitsuhashi Ryoma jumped right back into storytelling mode.
Watching his friend’s soul practically leave his body, Kuroda Kaito suddenly felt a chill run down his spine.
Was this outfit really that thin, or was Tokyo just absurdly cold this year—so cold it could freeze someone’s heart to pieces?
Why? Why was this guy—whose home was all the way back in Nara—here of all places?!
“I didn’t go home,” Mitsuhashi answered casually. “Didn’t I mention it before? Goro Hatake invited me to spend New Year’s at his place.”
Oh, right. That had come up before.
Kuroda remembered now—he had actually planned to visit them on his new bike for a little joyride.
As he recalled this, his already pale face whitened by makeup—turned ghostly white.
If Mitsuhashi was here… that meant Goro Hatake was here too?!
Grabbing Mitsuhashi by the shoulders, Kuroda asked the question with a desperate urgency.
“Yeah,” Mitsuhashi replied, pointing down to the vendors set up along the path beside the torii steps. “Goro went to grab something to eat.”
Without another word, Kuroda took off in a sprint, dragging his sister and his friend along with him.
Mitsuhashi had already seen him—that was bad enough. There was no way he could let Goro Hatake see him too!
