The tension in the argument was rising—or rather, it was mostly Miura Yumiko's temper that was heating up.
The more forceful her tone, the weaker Yui Yuigahama's became, her attitude increasingly submissive.
"Uh… hehe…"
Yui offered her signature goofy laugh.
Miura's face darkened further with anger, her voice dropping: "Yui, I'm doing this for your own good! You have serious problems! Do you even consider me your friend?!"
"Ah…" Yui hesitated, lowering her head. "Um… I'm sorry."
Miura froze for a moment, then laughed bitterly through her anger. "Sorry? Did I ask you to apologize?!"
Ugh—enough! These idiots bickering among themselves—I don't care! I just feel annoyed and unsettled whenever a girl I know ends up crying. And being attacked—that's my specialty!
Simply put, this is all about my own mood! It has nothing to do with Yui! Whether she dislikes me or is grateful, I don't care—no need to think about it!
That's it! Rua!
Hachiman Shiro shoved half a burger into his mouth, chewed twice, swallowed, then stood and barked in a high-pitched shout: "Enough already—"
"Annoying!! Did I ask to talk to you?!"
Miura spun around, her angry shout and striking beauty transforming into a fearsome predator's aura. Terrifying.
"Yeah… maybe I should go get a drink… but nah… you guys handle it…"
Hachiman muttered rapidly as he retreated to his seat, looking like a frog startled by a snake.
So scary… feels like going home…
Damn it. Why do people have to speak up when they're doing nothing? Self-consciousness overload—gross, so gross!
Miura retracted her gaze and saw Yui looking at that inexplicable person from before. Her eyebrows shot up as she snapped: "What are you looking at? I'm talking to you!"
"Ah… sorry…"
"Again with the apologies! That's not what I want to hear! You—"
Miura's anger boiled over, but suddenly, a clear, youthful male voice rang out from outside.
"Presenting—The Maid's Dilemma! "
The gears of the argument froze. The voice reciting the lines seemed to jam mid-rotation, stopping the chaos.
"The queen noticed her personal maid had been acting strangely and called her for a conversation."
Background explained in a single line, the boy's narration faded, replaced by a slightly sharp, mature female voice.
"Oh! My servant, why have you not dined with me? Why do you not ride beside me? Why do you hide the truth from me?"
A timid female voice followed, representing the maid.
Maid: "My queen, forgive me, I cannot speak…"Queen: "I am your queen! You shall obey my command!"Maid: "…I apologize."Queen: "You can no longer hide it! I have inquired widely: Beatrice saw you crying in the kitchen, Steer saw you staggering in the corridor, and your roommate, Ace, saw you secretly cleaning your blood-stained dress and counting money!"Maid: "Thank you for your concern… I… I…"Queen: "I am your queen! A family member ill? A friend in trouble? Betrayed? If you are troubled, why can I not lend a hand? Why must you let strangers tarnish your dignity? Why sell your honor for a price? Must I grieve and lose sleep? What has damaged our love? Could it be that fleeting dignity I revealed to you? If so… we are doomed…" (sob)Maid: "Ah… I… you've disregarded all propriety, so I cannot hide it! I… I recently developed hemorrhoids!"
Outside in the hallway, Yukinoshita Yukino held her hands together, initially irritated that someone had blocked her path and was performing this absurd puppet show. At the confession, she leaned back slightly.
If she laughed here, her "aloof and untouchable" image would shatter.
The dramatic performance of the frail maid's voice poured out in rapid bursts, each phrase climbing higher in tone, emphasizing despair: The kitchen affliction caused excruciating tears! Leaving was unbearable, hence stumbling! Blood soiled the dress, cleaned in secret! Counting money was necessary for treatment! Unable to approach you, I had no choice!
The maid's voice shifted back to the boy's neutral, clear narration:
"The next day, the queen ordered three thousand doctors to perform surgery for the maid's hemorrhoids!"
"The end—thank you for watching, and thanks to everyone for participating."
Shiro raised a hand in a bow, the gesture exuding the flair of a wandering sage. Improvised performance was easy for him.
The pinnacle of embarrassment is singing your heart out and having no one pay attention—loud, yet utterly silent.
The group leader loved training newcomers by taking them to the streets to show their skills. Shiro would call it "social-phobia cultivation mastery."
Somewhere in Class 1-F, a laugh erupted. Like a contagion, it spread rapidly: high, low, twisted, sometimes sounding like sobs or coughs.
A chubby student, inexplicably moved, shouted: "Amazing! I've seen my dream!!"
Yukino's perfect face twisted slightly. She trembled, lips pressed tight.
Hold it in!
Shiro calmly bowed and nodded to those around him, then stepped in front of Yukino, extending his right hand with an elegant, toothy smile.
"Gah…" Yukino inhaled deeply, barely restraining herself, chest rising in spasms. "What… are you doing…?"
"You want to laugh.""No.""It's okay—I want to laugh too."
Shiro made a simple, silly expression, transforming his coolness into sheer amusement.
Expression can endlessly influence a person's appearance. At a certain height, whether one is handsome or ugly loses all meaning; it transcends physical reality, becoming a spiritual symbol, a star eternal.
For example: 'Ah crap!' or 'Delicious!'
"Pft—!"
Under all eyes, Yukino quickly covered her mouth, though a faint, unrefined sound escaped.
She clutched her stomach, trembling like someone had smeared her emotions across her face: embarrassed, furious, awkward, restrained, teeth clenched.
Raising her gentle-yet-lethal gaze, she only saw Shiro slinking away.
This guy—deliberate!
But chasing him…
"Cough, cough, cough—!"
Yukino coughed, cheeks flushed, and swept her sharp gaze around. Swords of vision and laughter clashed and cut through.
She strode through the back door into Class 1-F boldly.
Unlike the spectators outside, who merely treated it as free entertainment, the atmosphere in F-class was strange. Many eyes studied the frozen Miura Yumiko and Yui Yuigahama, full of suppressed laughter, curiosity, and weird anticipation…
Miura's expression twisted between anger and amusement. Slapping the desk, her predator's gaze swept the classroom. "Ah—?! Funny, is it?!"
The warmth of spring shattered under a cold, piercing winter wind.
The onlookers quickly averted their eyes, pretending to mind their own business.
"Pft…"
Miura glared. Yui immediately stifled her smile, stood straight, obedient like a student awaiting a teacher's scolding.
"Ugh… ridiculous, absurd person."
Miura didn't know who was being referred to—or maybe both—but she couldn't manage a scolding stance. She huffed, "Speak—what is this hemorrhoid thing?"
"Ah—!" Yui blushed, flustered. "Yumiko!"
"Ah… uh…"
Miura grew embarrassed as well, about to speak, then her expression hardened. "Yukinoshita? What is it?"
"Huh? Shouko?"
Yui finally noticed her and hurriedly said, "Sorry, Shouko, I'm late…"
"Yuigahama, if you are late, you should notify beforehand. Arranging people without notice is very rude."
Yukino glanced at Miura, then back at Yui: "But you seem to have had a rough time. What's the reason?"
Yui clasped her hands apologetically: "Sorry, I didn't have Shouko's email, couldn't let you know…"
"Oh, that's fine. Sometimes accidents happen. Handle it quickly."
Yukino prepared to leave, ignoring Miura's glaring eyes.
"Hey—! I'm talking to Yui!"
Miura shouted in anger, but Yukino paid no attention, walking out confidently.
Miura's anger flared further. She glimpsed Yui's lunchbox and, suddenly, it clicked.
Out it came: "Yukinoshita! You are Yui's hemorrhoid?!"
Silence.
Everything stopped.
Yui watched Yukino's smiling face freeze.
Yukino's steps halted. Dark clouds gathered in the sky; a volcano was ready to erupt.
In the train car, a mischievous kid poked at strangers with his feet.
Wow! Is this woman an idiot?! Why start a war?!
Shiro munched his lunch eagerly, peeking: Fight, fight! I love watching girls fight!
"Ah? Hey—! Yumiko!!"
Yui stamped her feet like ants on a hot pan, red-faced with embarrassed fury, sounding the battle horns.
"Hah…"
Yukino sighed, both exasperated and sarcastic, turned to face Miura, flicked her hair, and spoke gently but quickly: "Can your brain not comprehend such a simple drama? It's hard to understand primate thinking. Yui invited me to lunch but is here facing your interrogation. Her worry is only that you dislike me."
"Your social relations are what make people uneasy."
Miura, dumbfounded, trembled with anger: "You—"
"It's hard to imagine such feudal thinking exists today. Your regressive ecosystem, your so-called friends—they're just conveniences, huh?"
Yukino's tone was calm, face gentle, words sharp as swords, like a lone warrior outmatching the heroes of the rivers and plains. Lethal, unstoppable.
"Shouko…"
Yui whispered softly, eyes earnest.
Yukino paused her verbal assault. She didn't understand why Yui valued this relationship, but wouldn't impose her own judgment.
"You—!"
Miura angrily stood up.
"Alright, alright, Yumiko, Shouko, stop."
The center of the popular boys' circle, golden-haired Hayama Hayato, intervened, holding Miura back, smiling wryly to mediate, signaling Yui in the middle with his eyes.
Miura reluctantly calmed herself.
"I'm leaving now."
Yukino ignored Hayama, turning to Yui: "Can you come later?"
"Yeah! Shouko, go to the activity room first; I'll come shortly."
"Okay."
Yukino left the classroom. With her departure, the tension finally eased.