Yukinoshita Yukino fought the urge to roll her eyes.
For a split second, she even considered turning on her heel and walking away.
She didn't call out Yamauchi Sakura on the fact that she had only arrived mere seconds before her.
Instead, Yukino kept her face cold and strode toward her.
Logic told her it was best not to respond—Sakura wasn't here to show off flashy neon signs; she was here to toy with her.
The more Yukino reacted, the louder this idiot would laugh.
With that in mind, Yukino silently pushed open the clubroom door and stepped inside.
But just as she was about to cross the threshold, a thought struck her.
If Sakura's amusement came from teasing her, then wasn't her current display of restraint also playing into Sakura's game?
This wasn't just some ordinary fool—this was a fool who could happily get along with Yukino's sister.
That meant she couldn't be measured by normal standards.
It wasn't about seeing Yukino flustered.
No, for Sakura, the act of teasing itself was already enough to bring her joy.
Like a child with a remote-control car in the plaza—whether the toy zipped left or right didn't matter.
What mattered were the envious stares from the other kids, and that alone satisfied them.
By the same token, a bully who snatched away that toy wasn't looking to enjoy it either.
The pleasure came simply from robbing the kid of theirs.
And Yamauchi Sakura was exactly that kind of villain.
Yukino realized it the moment she saw the sparkling nameplate at the door.
That eager anticipation she'd felt earlier about hurrying to the Service Club evaporated instantly.
Caught up in this thought, Yukino halted.
Sakura, walking close behind, promptly bumped into her back.
"Hey, what's the deal, Yukino? You just messed up my makeup—it's all over your clothes now," Sakura complained.
"Today's club activity is one hour of complete silence."
Yukino turned, their faces nearly colliding.
This was the harshest punishment she could think of—forcing Sakura to recognize her place.
Without waiting for a reply, she spun back around, entered the classroom, and sat at her desk, opening a book.
Today's choice was a freshly bought detective novel.
Yesterday, she had learned that no one else would be coming to school, so she hadn't bothered unlocking the clubroom.
Instead, she spent her day in her favorite bookstore.
Rain tapping on the windows, a cup of hot tea, and a captivating novel—paradise itself.
That was how she'd spent the day, content enough that even Sakura's barrage of family kimono-making photos hadn't stirred a hint of envy.
In fact, she had had the time to sew a little vest for "Pan-san" back home, planning to counterattack Sakura's bragging today.
Proof enough she felt not the slightest jealousy.
When the door shut, silence fell over the classroom.
Only the shouts of students drilling outside drifted in, occasionally mingled with instruments—sometimes the bright, sharp blare of a trumpet, sometimes the heavy resonance of a trombone, and then the booming of a tuba.
The instruments kept changing.
An outsider might assume a teacher was testing the club's proficiency, but Yukino knew better. The truth was far more embarrassing—only three students were playing, and not one of them could stay in tune.
Any real instructor would've died of shame, not pride.
Honestly, why not focus on a single instrument instead of dabbling in so many?
Success starts with concentration! Yukino sighed to herself.
She could tell because she had dabbled in all of those instruments herself—only up to beginner level, before her strength gave out.
And that's when she realized—she wasn't even reading anymore.
She was just daydreaming.
For someone like her, so devoted and focused, it was unthinkable.
Even on Christmas at Hibiya Park, surrounded by crowds like an ocean, she could sit on a bench and lose herself in a novel without distraction.
So why now, in this absolute quiet, was her focus wavering?
Her sharp mind quickly supplied the answer—because it was too quiet.
In noisy environments, the brain enters a kind of "distracted focus" that actually sparks creativity.
But in silence, the mind starts hunting for any sound at all.
Which meant… after Yukino had declared today's activity, Yamauchi Sakura had actually stayed completely silent?!
The realization hit Yukino like a cold shock.
'She really hasn't said a single word?!'
Believing Sakura could suppress her urge to talk was harder than believing she herself had fallen asleep during the last class and was now dreaming all this.
Mechanical and stiff, she turned her head—and froze.
Sakura was… reading a book.
Yukino's fear deepened.
Sakura, reading?!
Even though she knew it was silly, Yukinoshita still couldn't resist pinching herself just to make sure she wasn't dreaming.
"Hey! What the heck, Yukino? Why'd you pinch me all of a sudden?" Sakura shot her a displeased look.
'Phew.'
Yukino let out a quiet sigh of relief.
That was more like it.
There was no way this girl would actually shut up just because she told her to.
Honestly, her words probably carried less weight than the discount announcements from the convenience store owner.
And since Sakura had already broken the "no talking for an hour" rule, Yukino decided there was no point dwelling on it. Instead, her curiosity got the better of her.
"…What are you reading?"
Yes, Yamauchi Sakura was reading.
That alone was enough to terrify Yukinoshita.
It wasn't that this was rare—it was downright unheard of.
Sure, Sakura had somehow scored full marks on the last math quiz, but Yukino had since figured out why.
It wasn't that Sakura had suddenly turned into a genius—she had Hojo Kyousuke tutoring her daily.
With that kind of private coaching, even the most airheaded, dyed-hair gal could ace her tests.
But Sakura reading a book of her own accord? That was something else entirely. Yukino's spine tingled at the sight.
"This?"
Sakura closed the manuscript with a weary expression, even though she'd only been at it for a few minutes.
'Seriously? She looks exhausted already? Just how much does she hate reading?' Yukino muttered inwardly.
But at the same time, she was dying to know what kind of book could push Sakura to force herself this far.
"Curious, aren't you, Yukino?" Sakura teased, her expression shifting from tired to mischievous in a flash—so fast you'd need a high-speed camera to catch it.
"Why would I be curious about a book that even an idiot like you can read so intently?" Yukino shot back icily.
"Good question… why are you so curious?"
'Because anyone would be curious about a book that could keep a complete idiot glued to the page!' Yukino wanted to scream, but she swallowed her words.
She could see that Sakura was baiting her, so she forced her curiosity down.
To her surprise, today's Sakura was acting strangely uncharacteristic.
Instead of dragging things out, she simply handed the manuscript over.
"Here, you can read it for a bit. My reading stamina's already used up—I need a break."
Only then did Yukino notice it wasn't a real book at all.
The cover wasn't white; it was plain paper.
Just a stack of printer sheets bound together.
She flipped open the first page, and her eyes fell on the title.
She found herself reading aloud:
"The Dreams and Death of Writer K…?"
"It's Kyousuke's new manuscript," Sakura replied from where she was slumped on the desk.
Yukino turned her head sharply, only to see the girl grinning slyly, eyes narrowed like a fox.
"This is top-secret, you know. Only 'insiders' get to see it. You just hit the jackpot, Yukino." Sakura giggled.
Ignoring her nonsense, Yukino shifted her focus back to the pages in her hand.
"…Why would Hojou be writing a new book now of all times?" she murmured.
She had been following his career long before she ever heard his name from her mother or sister.
She'd read The Devotion of Suspect X and loved it.
Mystery novels were her genre of choice, so naturally she'd kept an eye on Hojou Kyousuke after getting to know him.
She knew all about the controversies surrounding him in the Mystery Writers' Association and the storm brewing around this year's awards.
Just yesterday, while browsing the bookstore, she had picked up works from the two loudest critics opposing Hojou's nomination.
She'd read three books from each, curious about what kind of veteran authors felt qualified to dismiss him so harshly.
Yes—Hojou Kyousuke was a man whose private life was messy enough to shock wildlife. But Yukino had never doubted his brilliance.
She'd read The Devotion of Suspect X four times.
The first two because she simply loved it.
The third after she met him, to try to read his heart through his writing.
The fourth after her strange "therapy sessions" at the Ruyi dorms, hoping his words might explain the bizarre contradictions she'd been wrestling with.
And the truth was, those other authors were good.
They'd even won major prizes.
But their writing… it wasn't on Hojou's level. Not even close.
Yesterday's readings had been pleasant enough—they made her biscuits taste better with her tea, but none of those writers felt like they had the standing to condemn him so arrogantly.
Of course, she'd also checked the works of other award contenders, and the conclusion was clear: the grand prize should go to Hojou Kyousuke.
That was her objective judgment.
And she prided herself on her fairness.
If anything, adding personal feelings would've made her hesitate.
Because if Hojou really did win, she worried it might only fuel his already outrageous ego—and make his already chaotic love life spiral into even deeper madness.
So in the end, this society really is twisted—those who are truly excellent often find it the hardest to survive.
Even though her original goal hadn't been achieved, Yukinoshita's resolve had only grown stronger.
As she read the book, she couldn't help but imagine: if she were in Hojou Kyousuke's place, faced with the same situation, what would she do?
It didn't take long for her to find the answer—resist.
Because she was the champion of justice—ugh!!
Why couldn't she just delete that ridiculous phrase from her head?!
Still, her inner sense of justice wouldn't allow her to bow down to such unfair treatment.
She wouldn't be like those so-called "sensei," spouting nonsense in the newspapers, dragging their reputations through the mud.
She wouldn't protest by refusing to attend the award ceremony either.
No, she would show up in her best dress, stand before the judges and the press, and demand to know why she hadn't been chosen.
Of course, Yukinoshita knew perfectly well what that would bring—not justice, but ridicule.
A flood of mockery and endless criticism.
After all, what could a single person do against society and its systems?
She understood that wasn't the smart way, not even the "normal" way, to handle things.
But aside from silently swallowing the humiliation, accepting the dirty backroom rules, and playing along with corruption, that was the only response she could think of.
And she also knew that if it truly came down to her, perhaps there would be a better way out.
After all, her mother and father had deep connections and more than enough wealth.
What left her helpless might be solved easily if it were in her sister's or mother's hands.
They were both "correct people," able to adapt and skillfully navigate society's rules.
In the end, Yukinoshita had to admit in frustration that she couldn't find a good solution.
No matter how carefully she built her arguments, no matter how precisely she questioned things, there was no clear answer.
And she hated that.
As always, Yukinoshita Yukino despised an unjust world.
After finishing her book, she sat absentmindedly in the bookstore.
The kind old shopkeeper had not only given her cookies but even brought over a desk lamp just for her.
The bright, warm bookstore seemed cut off from the gloomy skies outside—just as Yukino herself seemed cut off from the world.
That was Yukinoshita Yukino—unyielding, unwavering, someone who lived every moment true to herself.
So then… what about Hojou Kyousuke?
That was the final question left lingering in her mind.
And at that moment, she realized why she had been so eager to come to the Service Club.
She was curious. Curious to see how Hojou Kyousuke would deal with such things.
Because he was someone without that burning sense of justice—yet smart enough to adapt to society.
Yukino knew this well.
If nothing else, just the way he had set up that comfortable little lunch spot on the rooftop showed it.
Hojou Kyousuke not only understood the rules—he enjoyed using them. He never shied away from shortcuts; in fact, he seemed to love them.
After all, if he was someone both her mother and her sister valued so highly, there was no way he could be some unlikeable fool like herself.
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