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Chapter 25 – Bread, Tea, and Disappointment
"Ding-ling-ling——!"
The bell rang, signaling the end of class.
Yet in Class F, the atmosphere was suffocatingly tense. At the center of it all sat Hikigaya Hachiman, shoulders hunched as Hiratsuka Shizuka fixed him with a cold, penetrating stare.
Hikigaya clutched his composition notebook, sweat dripping down his temple. Her sharp gaze made him feel as though he were being skewered alive.
Please, don't drag me to the office to rewrite this in front of all the teachers… Spare me!
"Ryuo," Hiratsuka said firmly, shifting her attention. "Supervise Hikigaya while he rewrites his composition. I expect it on my desk tomorrow."
"Yes, ma'am."
Hiratsuka then continued, "On May 9th, next Tuesday, we'll be conducting the academic test. Review the points I emphasized in class today—they're all potential exam material. Make sure you're prepared."
Her heels clicked against the floor as she strode out, and with her departure, the tension in the classroom vanished.
Students exhaled in relief, chatter erupting.
"Thank God…" Hikigaya muttered dramatically. He turned to Ryuo, his savior. "Ryuo, you're my god."
Laughter filled the class as everyone shifted back into their usual noise—some arguing about lunch, some buzzing about the new Dengeki Daily Magazine, and others groaning that Hiratsuka had practically highlighted the entire textbook as exam material.
Desperate to stay on Ryuo's good side, Hikigaya asked, "Ryuo, what do you want for lunch? My treat!"
Ryuo thought for a moment. "…One toast and one red bean bread."
Hikigaya blinked. "…That's it?"
"Don't worry about me eating. What you need is my outline for the composition. Write according to it later."
"Deal!"
Ryuo smirked, pocketed the red bean bread, and made his way toward the special teaching building.
—
On the way, he noticed plenty of students reading Your Lie in April.
As expected, after the second episode's release, the story's popularity in Sobu High had exploded. Yesterday, everyone was buzzing about Fairy Ring. But today? Discussions about Four Lies were starting to eclipse it.
I wonder what the voting results will look like this afternoon, Ryuo thought. At this pace, we might actually close the gap with "Fairy Ring."
With that thought, he pushed open the door of the Service Club.
Inside, Yukino Yukinoshita sat by the window, quietly reading. The spring breeze fluttered her long, dark hair, the scene so graceful it seemed untouchable.
She glanced up briefly at the sound of the door.
"…I've told you before. Knock before entering."
"Next month," Ryuo replied deadpan, his face serious.
Yukino ignored him, lowering her gaze back to her book.
"You didn't have lunch, right?" Ryuo placed the red bean bread on her desk, then sat across from her.
Yukino's frosty eyes lifted, staring at him wordlessly.
"…Fine, fine, I get it," he sighed.
He unwrapped the bread, holding it out toward her lips. Yukino accepted without protest, biting delicately while her eyes never left the page.
Ryuo poured her a cup of black tea.
"Minister, honestly… no wonder your shoes have been hidden over sixty times."
"Oh? Says the boy who siphons off club funds every month," Yukino retorted coolly, "and still wonders why he isn't bullied more."
Ryuo grimaced. He couldn't match her sharp tongue, but he had to at least defend himself.
"I don't think I'm lying. I've been working hard to keep this club running with that money."
Her gaze sharpened. "What do you mean by that?"
"If I starve to death," Ryuo said solemnly, "the club will be disbanded. You wouldn't want that, right?"
"…" Yukino said nothing, but her eyes lingered on him for a moment longer.
When she finished the bread, she sipped her tea, then reached into her pocket. She pulled out a small cat-print wallet and carefully laid 10,280 yen on the desk—one crisp 10,000-yen bill, and the rest in neat coins.
Ryuo blinked. "I can understand 280 yen for the bread… but the club's budget is only 6,000 yen a month. You told me to manage 3,000 yen. Why are you giving me 10,000 now?"
Yukino didn't look up. "Consider it a condition. If you agree to come to the clubroom once a week, this money is yours."
Ryuo stared at her silently, not touching the bills.
Finally, Yukino raised her head. For the first time today, she wasn't coldly issuing commands—her expression carried something quieter.
"As the club's president," she said softly, "it would trouble me if my members starved to death."
The words struck him. He looked at her seriously, moved by the rare hint of care beneath her icy exterior.
But after a pause, he gently pushed the money back.
"…Thank you for worrying, Yukinoshita. But it's not necessary."
Her hand froze above the table. For a second, her eyes wavered, disappointment flickering before vanishing behind her practiced indifference.
She closed the paperback in her hand with quiet finality.
"…I see. Perhaps this was my mistake from the beginning. I was foolish to think you'd play along with my… game of embezzling the club's budget."
Her voice grew colder.
"I was wrong. People do not change. I'll apply for the club's abolition soon."
Her words fell like a blade, and the silence that followed was heavier than any argument.