Yuu 456-460

Title: Let Me See!

Afterward, Yuu went to the juniors’ second-year classroom and borrowed photography lights and a reflector stored there for extra lighting.

Though the equipment was already lent out and the plan to record the political views survey video had to be postponed, Iroha and Kanade didn’t go home right away. Instead, they followed him to the Service Club room in the special building, ready to tackle the big task there.

“Senpai’s filming a Cultural Festival performance video with the lady Senpais, right?”

Seeing Yuu nod, Iroha raised the video camera. She patted her smooth, not-very-muscular arm. Confidently smiled: “If you’re all actors, who’s gonna film? Leave it to me!”

“As a pro high school girl, I won’t lose to anyone at shooting!”

“Filming’s different from selfies… You sure you can?” Yuu looked doubtful.

“Mmm… Why not try once to find out!” Iroha, upset at being doubted by her senior, puffed her cheeks cutely. Held out her white palm like asking for money: “Got a script or plot? Let me see.”

Yuu raised a brow: “Wow, pretty pro?”

“Of course~ My middle school dream was to be a blogger with tens of millions of followers, making money from videos!”

The fake-displeased face instantly brightened. Iroha lifted her chin. Sly smile bloomed again. Said with hidden pride: “Not just talk. I’ve read tons of books on cameras and visuals, made lots of cool videos myself—not a newbie like Senpai thinks.”

“Really?” Yuu extended his hand: “Let me see.”

“...No peeking! Anyway, Senpai’s got no choice.” Whatever landmine he stepped on, Iroha slapped his hand down hard. Expression flipped faster than a book page.

Turned her head annoyed. Attitude somehow hardened: “No script or plot, at least tell me what kind of film you’re making.”

“Fine. Though I haven’t said you passed the interview…” Yuu slightly shrugged. Just as he was about to explain Yukino’s earlier script outline, he felt a tug on his shirt hem.

Looked down, his eyes met a calm, clear lake-like pair.

“I want to help too. Anything I can do?”

If Iroha asked, Yuu might’ve waved her off, told her to play aside, too lazy to add troublemakers.

But now, stared at by Kanade’s serious eyes, Yuu couldn’t refuse, even with a heart of stone and anti-trouble stance.

Most importantly, since he didn’t reject Iroha’s camerawoman request, how could he exclude harmless Kanade?

As a human, he had to be fair!

“Let me think…” While thinking, Yuu unconsciously touched her small head. Then, under the cynical side-eye, casually withdrew: “Oh, right. We need someone to hold the reflector. You up for it?”

“Can do. I’m super strong!” Her eyes sparkled. Kanade answered firmly. To prove it, she lifted the reflector beside her high.

Her face still showed little expression. But from her light nasal breaths and straight back nearly tipping backward, she looked very proud, waiting for applause.

Yuu immediately clapped hard. Then looked at Iroha. His gaze encouraged and urged.

“Senpai’s totally a lolicon…” Rolling eyes resignedly, Iroha fought the urge to smack her senior’s head with the camera. She half-heartedly clapped twice so the sensitive senior wouldn’t secretly target her again.

Clapping slowly stopped. Just as he was about to speak, the Service Club door suddenly opened. Yuigahama entered, confused.

“Yuu, why were you clapping… Eh, Iroha-chan and Kanade?”

“Yahallo, Yui-senpai~”

“Excuse me.”

Yuigahama smiled, returning the casual and polite greetings. Looked at Yuu. Tilted head slightly: “They here to help?”

Yuu nodded: “Though I could shoot myself and stitch clips in post-production, others helping saves time. Full-take quality’s better too.”

Yuigahama suddenly remembered something. Scratched cheek shyly: “Meaning, we act in front of Iroha-chan and others? Ahaha, feels kinda nervous…”

“No need nervous, Yui-senpai!” Iroha smiled encouragingly. Said sincerely: “We’ve seen way more embarrassing scenes. Acting’s nothing!”

“Guess you’re right… Iroha-chan can roast like that too.” Recalling the quiz incident, Yuigahama laughed more awkwardly. Felt like her dark history was exposed.

“Eh? Sorry, Yui-senpai!” Realizing her slip, Iroha quickly bowed. Explained earnestly: “Didn’t mean it. Just talked with Senpai earlier, forgot to reset my tone!”

“Hey, kouhai, that how you treat Senpai?”

His tone dropped. Yuu reached for her head. Five-finger claw clearly not for affectionate pats.

Iroha reacted lightning-fast. Sensing her head about to be crushed, she ducked, hid behind Yuigahama. Confidently raised a brow—he wouldn’t dare claw toward Yuigahama’s chest!

In fact, though Yuu wasn’t that bold, he still cared about his image, especially with Kanade watching.

(I’ll punish you later)—He mouthed silently, with a villainous cold smile.

Iroha stuck out her tongue. Surface fearless, even mocking. But inside…

Her heart raced a little.

“Alright, alright, no more fighting.” Yuigahama clapped. Softly asked both to stop glaring.

Pulled Iroha from behind. Glanced at Kanade beside Yuu. Voice paused, continued: “From now on, we’re video-making friends. No fighting, no bullying. At least get along now!”

(They seem too close… Am I overthinking?)

With that thought, Yuigahama mentally shook her head. Corrected her nervous stance—suspecting pure-hearted Kanade as a love rival wasn’t a girl in love, but a love-poisoned patient.

(No, no. Better suspect Iroha-chan… At least she, like Yukinon, bickers with Yuu-kun sometimes, like close peers. Not Senpai-kouhai at all.)

Like now, though not looking, they still sniped:

“Not interested in bullying little monkeys.”

“If I’m a little monkey, Senpai’s a horny gorilla.”

Kanade enviously watched their banter. Wanted to join but didn’t know what animal to call herself.

Silver hair—ferret?

Calm eyes lowered. Sank into complicated thoughts.

Service Club chaos lasted nearly ten minutes. Then the old door was pushed open again.

Of course, the habit was to knock first.

“Why so noisy?”

Yukino, finishing work lightning-fast, chose to push straight in. Slightly frowned, looked confused.

She’d heard music from the hallway. Weird-harmony Indian dance. Magical ayi ya yi ya yi~ nearly mentally polluted her from afar.

Yukino guessed—this was definitely Yuu’s doing again.

But hadn’t he borrowed equipment and was waiting in the clubroom to record the PV?

Could this be PV music?

Heh, then she’d need to think of the coolest dogeza (kneeling apology) pose soon.

After inwardly sneering, Yukino clearly saw the clubroom scene.

“…”

Time froze. Awkward silence lasted who-knows-how-long.

Seeing the hard-to-judge scene, Yukino slowly unfroze. Held her head like dizzy.

Cheeks twitched like cramps. Word by word, as if exhaling deeply from lung depths, with deep helplessness and resignation:

“What are you all doing in here…”

“That…”

Yuu, Yuigahama, and Iroha exchanged looks. Secretly stopped their Three Brave Siblings pose. Casually cleared throats, quickly returned to seats like good kids.

“Nothing, nothing.”

Kanade aimed the camera at the door, faithfully recording Yukino’s rare pout.

Setting aside the slightly indecent overplaying scene.

Learning the two juniors came to help, Yukino only slightly frowned, said little—seemed she too worried about acting embarrassment before others. But since all agreed, she had no intent to oppose alone.

No more small talk. After confirming roles, she pulled out her written script, distributed one by one.

Though called a script, just a notebook sheet.

Yukino finished it during break. Photocopied five earlier. Took extras for backup, didn’t expect immediate use.

“Wrote it as a written storyboard. Treat it as the script. But this is just for the thirty-second PV. Main film needs more time. I’ll write it after going home.”

Standing before the whiteboard, Yukino crossed arms. Expression serious, confident.

Watched their faces as they read. Calm voice fell in the air.

“Main goal is to clarify our trio’s relationship to the students… Though I personally oppose doing this just for those people, the theme stays Friendship Born from Misunderstanding.”

“This teaser scene should hook their interest.”

-

Title: Yukino: Quick, Call Me Big Sis

The 30-second PV script was read in under a minute.

“How is it?”

Seeing everyone slowly put down their papers and exchange glances, Yukino immediately asked for feedback. She looked very confident in her work.

Of course—she was a well-read intellectual who usually devoured classic literary masterpieces and had flipped through all kinds of film scripts countless times. With that background, it was impossible for her own writing to be bad.

Though she’d never entered a literary contest, she’d read the winning entries. The gold-medal level was similar to the short novels she wrote for fun in secret, maybe even a bit lower… at least she thought so.

Still, handing over something she wrote to be seen and judged—even a 30-second script—brought a tiny flicker of anxiety and embarrassment. Yukino just didn’t show it.

She watched their faces. Her calm confidence slowly faded. A bad feeling crept in.

“Hmm…” Yuigahama struggled for words. After a pause, she managed one comment: “As expected of Yukinon! Your language and metaphors are so deep…”

Iroha quickly nodded in agreement, cheerful: “Right, right. The vibe is unmatched! Even as a storyboard script, it feels like reading a novel!”

Kanade gave an encouraging look. Softly: “I don’t really get it, but I think it’s amazing, great job.”

“…”

Got it. Yukino now understood how her work looked in their eyes.

Choosing such polite words only hurt her pride more…

“Bottom line: it’s too stream-of-consciousness.”

The blunt critique snapped Yukino to attention. She glared at Yuu.

He didn’t disappoint. A rapid-fire barrage followed: “The point of a PV is to spark curiosity while expressing the work’s core. What does your intimate 30 seconds do?”

“Male lead monologues by the window. Female lead monologues by the window. Second female lead monologues at the desk looking out the window? Are we filming a talk show?! With beautiful sunset reflections outside, showing the characters’ inner loneliness and melancholy—”

“Please, Anego, it’s raining today. Can I swap that gorgeous sunset for a blue curtain?”

After unloading his critique, Yuu slapped the paper on the table. Only then did he exhale, satisfied.

He hadn’t expected Yukino to be this bad. She managed to cram so many flaws into a 30-second script…

Rarely did he get to pick apart Perfect Miss in a serious matter. Truly satisfying.

Of course, Yuu was ready for a counterattack.

After all, criticizing this harshly and cruelly—any normal literary girl would be scared to tears or pack up and lock herself at home. Yukino was clearly different.

Whether verbal comeback or physical, “surrender” wasn’t in her vocabulary. Even if Yuu felt every point was spot-on and she had no chance, she’d still try to take him down to save face.

Just as he thought that, Yuu noticed Yukino had fallen into a strange silence, staring at him oddly.

“What?” This time Yuu asked.

“You… what did you just call me?” Yukino locked eyes. The corner of her mouth lifted—not quite a smile. Dark blue eyes narrowed like a cat.

Yuu froze. Instantly recalled every word: “…Anego?”

Yukino nodded, satisfied, smiling like a blooming flower: “Mmm. Say it again, little brother.”

[Ding!]
[Congratulations, Host! Reward: Editing (Expert Level).]

Yuu: “…”

(This woman’s usually reliable. Why’s she not focusing on the point right now?)

(Meaning everything I just said went unheard, and you only caught the “Big Sis” I blurted out?)

(You’d even claim a tiny win like this. How deep’s your grudge for always being treated like an annoying little sister?!)

“Hah—” Yuu exhaled hard, pressed his brow. Rubbed his Yintang point like a headache.

A gesture Yukino often did. He even mimicked her expression perfectly.

“Yukinoshita, can we get back to business?”

Yukino’s smile vanished. Coldly: “You can take weird group photos in the clubroom, but I can’t ask you to call me Anego?”

“If you join the photo, I’ll give you Kars’ pose.”

“Still call me Anego. Need me to teach you how to read ‘Big Sister’ properly?”

“Enough, pal. We don’t play high-level games like that.” Yuu pointed at the script. His gaze turned serious—no joking: “About your script outline, I’ve got one more line. Also a critique.”

“Go ahead.” Her reaction was calmer than expected. Though slightly resigned, Yukino didn’t stubbornly refuse: “Don’t look at me like that. Admitting someone beneath you surpasses you in a field is something only the morally superior can do. I know you can’t.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. That’s exactly what you’d say.” Yuu shrugged. Then met her eyes and said:

“Sorry, are you trying to write minimalist literary art?”

“Generally, yes.”

“But this script feels like a little girl who’s never dated and has few friends. You just wrote the most perfect love and friendship you could imagine.”

“…”

Hearing that, Yukino didn’t blink. Though her face stayed calm like accepting a lesson, her unconsciously shrinking pupils and pressed lips revealed inner turmoil—hard to settle.

Yuu suddenly realized: when Yukino got embarrassed, it started with her ears turning red, then slowly spread to her snow-white cheeks, her graceful swan-like neck. Her flawless pale skin always made that faint blush look tantalizing.

Watched secretly. As if time began moving on her body, Yukino slowly exhaled. She suddenly stood, grabbed her school bag from the chair.

“I’m going home.”

“…”

The air froze in shock. Yuigahama and Iroha quickly stood to stop her, faces full of dismay. Kanade blocked with her body. Then several looked at Yuu urgently.

As if urging him to say something soothing.

Resigned sigh. Yuu shook his head at himself from seconds ago.

(What did I just say? Yukinoshita’s different?)

Suddenly he wanted to laugh—but feared the school bag smacking his face if he did.

Turns out, at her core.

Without family background and looks, Yukino was just an ordinary literary girl.

Not strong, not fragile. No different from them… Oh, no. There was a difference.

At least Yuu had dated before. Yukino hadn’t.

-

Title: Recording the PV

Though she nearly stormed off in anger over Yuu’s single line, after calming down, Yukino sat back in her seat and handed him the rights to revise the script.

It didn’t take long. Once Yuu finished editing and they confirmed no issues, the Service Club members began preparing for recording—moving desks and chairs, applying light makeup, at least creating a bit of an official filming atmosphere.

For the record, Yukino was extremely reluctant to wear makeup. But Yuigahama and Iroha wouldn’t let her off. With eager faces, they cornered her against the wall with their makeup tools. Even her pleading glances at Yuu for help were useless.

Because he joined in too.

Yukino was already beautiful and elegant like a snow lotus. With a touch of light makeup, her beauty became undeniable. She had a pure charm that left people stunned. Especially her flushed face after being poked and prodded by the two, and her soulless, vacant stare. If Yuu secretly snapped a few photos and made a collection, he might dominate the Cultural Festival this way.

Of course, if he did that, he’d have to be ready to go down with the person involved—she’d kill him first, then herself.

Yuu had no reason to do such a thing—absolutely no connection to the fear that flashed in his mind of Yukino dragging him to die with her, staring at him with dead eyes the moment the idea surfaced!

The set was ready. Three actors. Each had memorized their lines and movements. Camerawoman: Iroha. Assistant camerawoman: Kanade. After adjusting the lighting, she shouted from the side to the center:

“Everyone in position, ready—”

“Wait, that’s not how you yell it, right?”

With a dramatic arm drop, Iroha announced: “ACTION!”

The camera’s red light blinked on. The screen reflected the rain falling outside the window and the three Service Club members standing in different positions.

No one spoke first. Let the silence fill the heavy air. Only the sound of rain tapping the window served as the perfect background.

With a sharp, clear breath pulling him into character, Yuu suddenly clenched his fist tightly. As if squeezing courage from his entire body, he spoke word by word to Yuigahama across from him:

“Setsuna, you’ve really misunderstood this whole thing…”

Yuigahama flinched for a moment. Then she reacted, delivering her line with slight nervousness: “W-what misunderstanding! I left the club so I wouldn’t get in the way of your lovey-dovey stuff. Why are you still bothering me!”

Since it was the first take, the goal was to complete the scene, not perfect it. So even though the camerawoman slightly frowned, a bit pained by the stiff acting, she didn’t yell cut. Iroha focused the lens on their shifting expressions.

(Compared to them, this acting is so professional… Was Senpai really not a child actor?)

“There’s only one reason. A very simple answer.”

Yuu swallowed. Slowly lifted his head, puffed out his chest. Stared straight at her.

At this moment, he could actually smile—as if he’d resolved to sacrifice everything. His tone soft like an April spring breeze:

“Touma is just my good friend. The one I like… is you, Setsuna.”

As per the script, Yuigahama stepped back twice, staring in disbelief.

Then, stammering: “B-but… I only see Haruki as a good friend too.”

“???” Yuu, full of question marks: “Then why did you leave the club out of jealousy?”

“B-because you stole my best friend, Touma-chan! It’s all your fault! Your fault, Haruki, that I left the club!”

“Huh?! No, wait… You weren’t jealous of me, but of Touma?!”

“Of course! In this world, only I’m allowed to be by Touma-chan’s side! She’s mine! If I didn’t want to make it hard for Touma-chan, who would hand her over to you!”

Yuigahama declared.

Equally shocked was Touma, hiding behind a pile of items.

Following the scripted kick of a chair and desk, the camera swung toward Yukino standing in the shadows, with an exaggerated shocked expression.

“Setsuna…”

“Touma!” The disgusted look vanished instantly. Yuigahama ran over joyfully, clinging tightly to her arm.

“Thank goodness the misunderstanding’s cleared. Let’s go home together! Leave that shady guy behind!”

“Wait, isn’t this a bit off…”

“Girl friendships are like this. Nothing weird~”

The two girls left the frame intimately. Iroha slowly and steadily panned the camera to Yuu’s expression, gradually zooming in on his handsome face.

His acting didn’t disappoint. Even in the most boring inner monologue scene, people unconsciously focused on the changes in his eyes and expression. As if they could see the essence of a 500-word essay there. Complex and clear—truly captivating.

As if after shock, confusion, loss, and despair, he finally sighed. Yuu turned his gaze to the rainy view outside. His entire being seemed enveloped in cold, melancholic tones. His eyes as pitiful as a soaked puppy.

“Why did it turn out like this…”

“This winter rain is so cold.”

Hearing Yuu deliver the final line, Iroha needed a few seconds to compose herself before shouting:

“CUT!”

The air controlled by the acting instantly relaxed.

Expressions returned to normal. Yuu walked to the camera, frowning curiously.

“Accidentally went over time by double. I still can’t control pacing well… Should we scrap and redo, or just extend it?”

The other two returned from the door. But unlike Yuu, they didn’t start reviewing footage. Instead, they stared at him with strange, complicated looks, as if wanting to say something.

“What?”

Yuu asked without looking up, eyes glued to the screen.

Yukino spoke first: “I won’t comment on this completely rewritten script since I agreed to act… Tenkuji-kun, is this what you mean by friendship?”

“Isn’t girl friendship beautiful? Why always focus on sad, grudge-filled things.”

Yuu pressed fast-forward. Seeing stiff Yukino on screen, he said flatly: “Attention-grabbing is a win. Plus, this fits your original story outline perfectly. Way better than that cliché love fairy tale from a decade ago… Anyway, before worrying about settled details, how about improving your own acting?”

Yukino’s expression froze. Murderous intent radiated. She glared at Yuu with bone-chilling cold.

“Yuigahama-san, don’t hold me back. I’m going to teach this boundary-less man a lesson right now!”

“Yukinon, I’m not holding you…” Yuigahama answered softly. “Besides, when it comes to no boundaries, you’re not far behind…”

“…”

Yukino fell silent. She closed her eyes deeply, inhaled sharply as if forcing calm. Then silently walked to her school bag, picked up the revised script, and reread it expressionlessly.

Yuigahama turned, confused, asking Yuu: “Yuu-kun, why not use our real names while acting? Wouldn’t that help us get into character more?”

Why create new characters and act under a mask? Was this an actor’s principle?

The three names felt odd too. Why did it seem like they weren’t made up on the spot but from an existing work… The fact that Yukino’s role didn’t use the similar-sounding “Setsuna” also confused Yuigahama. She didn’t understand his thought process.

“Not that we can’t. I just felt these names would add a famous-work vibe. But seems it was pointless.”

After watching the over-one-minute video, Yuu sighed and shook his head. He returned the camera to Iroha beside him, who was sniffing its very fragrant scent. Then glanced at Yukino and Yuigahama.

“Then, next we’ll try acting with real names to see if it improves your immersion… But first, I’ll give you a quick acting lesson for that painful-to-watch performance. Any objections?”

“N-no…”

Like a scolded child, Yuigahama reflexively tucked in her neck. She scratched her cheek with a silly laugh.

“It’s my first time, no acting experience… Don’t worry, I’ll obey the director unconditionally and work hard to film it well!”

“Good.” Yuu nodded, satisfied. Then asked Yukino: “How about you? Is your pride hurt by my amazing acting, so you don’t want my teaching?”

“Don’t repeat what I said.” Yukino looked up from the script. Slight displeasure in her calm eyes: “The more skilled takes priority. Though I’m reluctant inside, I’ll accept your advice as much as possible… As long as it’s actually useful for acting.”

“Sky’s almost dark. I’ve no time to tease you now, relax.” Yuu opened his hands. Openly said the line that made Yukino frown involuntarily.

“I’m very good at teaching acting. In ten minutes, I guarantee results. Just obey, and it’s done.”

Yukino rolled her eyes slightly: “Then, the question is—why are you that good?”

“Ah, I know this!”

Before Yuu answered, Yuigahama raised her hand. Reminiscing, she jumped in: “During summer break, Yuu-kun almost appeared on a TV show. His acting was so good, even active actors called him sensei!”

“If I remember, her name was Ichinose-san, right? Super pretty…”

Bringing this up, Iroha adjusting the camera beside them immediately cut in. Curious: “Ichinose? Full name? Stage or real? What shows has she been in? Maybe I know her~”

“Eh, I-I don’t know…”

Yukino watched Yuu, still skeptical: “Teaching active actors? You’re that good?”

“I didn’t even use my full skill earlier. Try it yourself, and you’ll see.”

Yuu clapped, steering the topic back on track.

“No more chatting. Time’s short. Let’s start acting practice!”

◆━⊰✧⊱━◆

And so.

They worked until around 6 p.m. Just before the school closed and kicked people out, the Service Club room lights finally went off.

On the dark, gloomy rainy night, led by Yuu, the group walked out the school gate holding umbrellas.

-

Title: And So, They Gazed at the Same Night Sky

“Listen carefully: excessive shame is a barrier to acting. Backstage, feel as embarrassed as you want—but on stage, turn all that shame into a fierce drive to perform. The more ashamed you feel, the more you must show it. Only when you feel like you’re developing a split personality can it be considered great acting…”

On the way to the station, Yuu diligently continued sharing his experience.

From 4 p.m. after school until 6 p.m., nearly two hours wasn’t enough for him to turn two beginners into even background actors—let alone drama club members—especially since they also needed time to rehearse and film. Reaching this level already showed he’d maxed out his perfect-tier acting skills.

Though it could’ve been better, given the time constraints, this over-one-minute PV was their best effort. Pretty decent.

Anyway, he could still edit at home. With expert-level editing skills, plus his experience and wisdom, Yuu was excited to see how far he could polish this piece.

“As I said earlier, the most important thing for new actors is character immersion. Imagine the reaction you’d show if you were in that situation. Imagine the feelings you’d have after being treated that way…”

“So, if your boyfriend were stolen, would you also feel this winter rain is cold?”

Unable to stand his nonstop lecturing since leaving the Special Building—as if they were all idiots—Yukino spoke up and cut him off.

At first, she could calmly listen to his advice. Thanks to Yuu, she did feel her acting slowly improve… But his condescending, arrogant, belittling attitude was truly hard for her to tolerate.

Yes, just like the annoyed expressions they showed when Yukino disciplined committee members without choosing her words carefully.

Holding a light blue folding umbrella, Yukino looked down, pondered for a few seconds, then continued her critique of Yuu:

“Great acting is split personality? That theory exists, but can you do it? Professional screen actors regularly see psychologists. If you can’t reach that level, please don’t brag about how good your acting is.”

“At least better than yours. Want me to mimic how bad your acting was in the first few takes?” Yuu smiled, refusing to back down.

Yukino immediately fell silent. Her dark blue eyes shifted from his face, reflecting the rain curtain beyond the umbrella. Car headlights flickered in her blurred vision.

Also thanks to this man, she had learned the art of advancing and retreating in conversation.

Endlessly spouting opinions without thinking only led to self-satisfaction and gained nothing. Even against a tough opponent, she might be countered until speechless, ending with wounded pride.

No need to be that stubborn.

And unfortunately, she had two such people nearby—though one, despite excelling in many areas, wasn’t as strong as his older sister, giving her a hopeless feeling she’d never catch up.

As if a hand pushed her from behind, whispering confidently: “He’s great, but you’re not bad either. A few more steps, and you can stand beside him.”

Thus, Yukino clearly saw her progress. No longer just admiring a distant mountain. All her efforts now had clear meaning.

“…So what.”

Her thoughts somehow drifted there. Yukino slightly tightened her grip on the umbrella handle. She muttered softly, as if denying something.

Yuu’s ears were sharp. Hearing it, he unconsciously responded, continuing the earlier topic: “Still stubborn even now. I told you—don’t think everything will be fine after filming the PV. The main film isn’t something you can handle at this level.”

“If you think just ‘handling it’ is enough, I’m fine with that—it was my original plan… But if you want quality and to officially screen it at the Cultural Festival, start adjusting your mindset and learning acting techniques from now. Simply put: treat yourself as an actor and give this your all.”

“I know, no need to say it.” Yukino sighed lightly, as if helpless against him: “I feel like whenever it’s about acting, you get so serious and passionate. Were you really never a child actor?”

Iroha, walking behind and splashing puddles, immediately perked up. She pricked her ears and eavesdropped.

“Of course not. I just did work that required extremely high-level acting.” Yuu didn’t elaborate. Then turned to Yuigahama on his other side: “Yui, you too. Though you improved faster than Yukinoshita, your body language and emotional delivery in dialogue still need a lot of work.”

Hearing that, despite a slight reluctance to lose, Yukino had to admit—during the PV recording, Yuigahama’s performance was far better than hers.

Yuigahama was the immersion-type actor. Once her name was changed to her real one, she quickly got into character. After two or three practice runs, she met Yuu’s passing standard.

To avoid being the bottleneck, Yukino silently decided—after going home, she’d start searching for materials and videos to study acting. Once the script was ready, even if she had to cut reading and study time for practice, she’d bring her character to life!

After that, she couldn’t wait to see his shocked, admiring gaze.

“Mmm, let’s do our best together!” Yuigahama smiled and nodded firmly.

Too bad everyone was holding umbrellas now. Otherwise, she’d run between them and link arms with both… Was this what sharing happiness with two people felt like?

For some reason, she suddenly felt like she’d glimpsed a new world. She didn’t dare tell anyone. She could only quietly savor the moment, hiding that feeling deep in her heart.

The chatting didn’t last too long.

Following the orange streetlights illuminating the dim, rainy road, the group reached the station, ready to part ways.

“Do I really not need to walk you home one by one?” Yuu asked, slightly worried.

After all, it was late and raining. Young high school girls walking home alone still carried risks.

“Senpai, relax. Kanade and I take the same route. Plus, no dark alleys, and I know where the security cameras are.”

Iroha patted her flat chest under her thick jacket. She lifted her chin confidently: “Besides, if I do meet a bold pervert, I’ve got these to handle it!”

As she spoke, she mimicked Doraemon pulling something from his pocket, producing pepper spray, a whistle, and a grenade from her school bag.

…Wait, a grenade?

“This is a grenade-shaped anti-rape alarm. Latest model! They say if you pull the pin, throw it at the pervert, and run, it solves any sudden problem!”

Iroha explained with a wink. Then casually stuffed the grenade back into the deepest part of her bag.

No one doubted her—after all, what pure, cute junior would have ill intent?

Impossible to bring the real thing to school.

“Then, I’ll leave the camera with Senpai~ If possible, please edit the existing interview parts first. If no time, no big deal. Just finish by this week.”

After stowing her anti-pervert gear, Iroha slipped the camera into Yuu’s arms. Her attitude was completely natural.

Since it was an agreed condition, Yuu didn’t say much. He took the camera, turned it on, and checked the battery.

“Charger, lens cloth, spare lens?”

“Right here.”

Iroha pulled out a small black pouch. It contained everything Yuu mentioned.

After confirming nothing was missing, Yuu called out to Iroha, who was about to leave with Kanade.

“Wait. Just to be safe, I’ll ask again… There shouldn’t be any weird photos or videos in here, right?”

The moment he said it, Yukino and Yuigahama gave him strange looks, as if questioning his reason and motive for asking.

Yuu reacted instantly: “Why are you looking at me? Can’t I be cautious? It’s not mine. I don’t want to accidentally see someone’s privacy.”

“Indeed, very reasonable,” Yukino nodded with a smile. But for some reason, her agreement felt unsettling.

“I didn’t say anything,” Yuigahama pouted innocently. “Hah, Yuu-kun’s so sensitive about this.”

“Ow, Senpai, this is borrowed from the Film Research Club, y’know? How could there be weird photos or videos? Senpai’s the one with the dirty mind~”

Iroha giggled and waved, not missing a chance to tease him.

But before she finished the second half, her smile slowly froze. Her voice shrank. Whatever she remembered, a bead of cold sweat appeared on the left side of her smiling face. The corner of her mouth twitched slightly.

The next second, Iroha lunged with near-shadow speed.

Unfortunately, while she froze, Yuu was already prepared. He dodged her lunge while raising his hand.

“No weird stuff, you said it yourself, right? Then I’ll take this camera home and enjoy it thoroughly?”

Iroha jumped anxiously. Her cute face half-flushed: “Senpai! Senpai! I was wrong. That’s really bad!”

“What’s bad? Anything worse than me being a pervert?” Yuu, petty-hearted, now mercilessly teased his junior.

“T-this is…” Iroha hesitated. Then, gathering courage, she bit her lip. Pulled Kanade, who was watching from the side, and spoke in a volume only the three could hear.

“Kanade, remember the first day we got the camera? I was so excited and took random shots in the changing room?”

“I remember…”

After answering blankly, Kanade instantly caught the key point. Her clear, shining eyes unconsciously widened. Clear anxiety and panic—rare for her—appeared in her pale gold eyes.

“Iroha, don’t tell me it’s in there…”

“That’s exactly the ‘don’t tell me.’” Iroha nodded sadly: “I took too many random shots and forgot to delete them afterward. Sorry…”

The moment those words left her mouth, Yuu realized the camera had vanished from his hands at a speed he couldn’t react to.

Her pure white face flushed faint pink. Kanade pursed her soft pink lips. Her cheeks puffed like little buns.

She hugged the camera tightly to her flat chest. Stared at him seriously: “Did you see it?”

“No.” Yuu shrugged frankly: “If I had, I wouldn’t say anything. Wouldn’t it be better to quietly help you delete it?”

“Mmm, I trust Yuu-senpai.” Kanade finally relaxed. She handed the camera to Iroha. With wide eyes, she spoke earnestly like entrusting a great responsibility: “Iroha, check everything. Delete all weird photos and videos!”

“Sniff, got it…”

Iroha nodded pitifully. This was the first time she’d seen Kanade speak with such weight and seriousness. The intimidating aura from those pale gold eyes was truly befitting a future Student Council President.

Confirming the deletion progress, Kanade’s expression calmed. She tucked her silver hair behind her ear. A faint pink lingered behind her ear—she herself didn’t know why she felt embarrassed enough for her ears to burn, even though nothing had been seen.

This was truly the first time she’d felt this way.

…No, maybe the second?

After the camera returned to Yuu, they finally said goodbye. The two kouhai walked off together, while he had to escort Yukino home with Yuigahama.

Though the person in question refused, since Yuigahama was so insistent, she could only resign herself to letting them walk her home.

The rain still fell.

Finally, after the two juniors—like lights going out—left, Yuigahama, whose emotions were overflowing, immediately acted. She enthusiastically said to them:

“Yuu-kun, hold the umbrella in your left hand. Yukinon, hold it in your right!”

After both complied with confused faces, Yuigahama folded her umbrella. She slipped under the space between them. Reached out and linked arms with their free hands.

The warm palms quickly dispelled the winter rain’s chill. Yukino couldn’t help but freeze. She glanced sideways at her face, wanting to say something but unsure how to react.

Yuu didn’t overthink. After holding her hand properly, he tilted his umbrella to shield her from the rain.

Yuigahama was slightly dissatisfied: “Feels like parents walking a kid… Whatever, never mind!”

She swung their hands. Amid the soft rain sounds, she grinned widely.

“Whether in the film or outside it, no matter what happens… I really hope we can stay together like this.”

Yukino hesitated. Finally sighed:

“It’s not that easy, Yuigahama-san.”

Yuigahama didn’t mind. Her voice stayed cheerful: “Because it’s not easy, that’s why it’s worth giving our all!”

“Wouldn’t it be a shame to let go of such good hands after meeting such good people?”

She said so.

“…Fine, whatever you say.”

Originally wanting to argue, but seeing Yuu seemingly agree, Yukino shook her head. She had no intent to fight to the end as usual.

“Oh, right, Yukinon, from now on just call me by my name! ‘Yuigahama-san’ feels too stiff.”

“Haa… Yui.”

Strangely, the name flowed smoothly from her mouth. No resistance in her heart.

“Mmm!” Yuigahama nodded, satisfied, then turned to Yuu: “Then, Yuu-kun, will you start calling Yukinon by name too? Ah, why don’t you both just start using first names from now on?”

“…”

Yukino’s steps unconsciously slowed. She passed Yuigahama and locked eyes with Yuu.

For some reason, she didn’t deny the suggestion. Instead, she carefully opened her mouth:

“Ha…”

But the rest of the sound, for some reason, wouldn’t come out.

As if saying it would break the wall she’d just built. Her instincts feared that.

And Yuu, seeing her unclear expression, seemed to swallow the words he wanted to say. He showed a funny look like: “I really can’t do anything with you.”

“Forget it. Later it’ll mix with my cat’s name, and Yukinoshita will hit me again.”

“…I’m not unreasonable.”

Slowly lowering her gaze, Yukino shook her head resignedly and tightened the warmth in her palm.

The corner of her mouth slowly curved. Yukino smiled softly and said:

“Indeed, forget it for now. If you want to call me by name, go ahead. If not, keeping the status quo is fine too.”

“Like that? Alright then.”

Yuigahama looked back and forth between them, confused. She wasn’t in a rush. She smiled again. She deeply enjoyed walking the rain-soaked road, sandwiched between the two people she cherished most.

“After all, we have so much tiiiime~ to call each other by name!”

As if infected by that cheerfulness, Yukino suddenly didn’t want to deny such a future. No more rejecting thoughts arose in her heart.

She even began to believe, like her, that the future would be just as beautiful as now.

“Truly naive… But this kind of naivety doesn’t seem bad.”

She smiled unconsciously. Her steps light, splashing puddles.

Suddenly feeling his gaze, Yukino tilted her head. With curved eyes and brows, she deliberately smiled teasingly:

“What are you looking at?”

“Your beautiful smile.”

“Thank you. You’re pretty good too.”

“Wow, why so honest now?”

“Hehe. If someone didn’t always deliberately make me angry, I wouldn’t always speak harshly either.”

“Moo~~ You two, don’t flirt in front of me! At least invite me!”

“Flirt? With this guy?”

“Ridiculous. Can’t flirt at all.”

Unknowingly, the rain sounds on the umbrellas faded to nothing. The fresh, cool night breeze brushed their faces, making body and mind comfortable.

The dark clouds cleared. They both put away their umbrellas.

“The rain stopped.”

“Will it rain again tomorrow?”

“No, not tomorrow.”

“What about filming? If we need a rainy background…”

“Don’t worry. The workers there will figure it out.”

“I’m just your worker. But a certain committee chair is a worker for the whole Cultural Festival.”

“But when Yukinon can’t handle it, Yuu-kun will be Yukinon’s worker, right?”

“Hmm? Yui said so? My dear worker?”

“…Damn. Don’t show such an adorable smile right now.”

Hand in hand, they laughed and talked.

Together, they gazed at the ever-brightening night sky.

-

Title: Better Buy a Basement and Lock Him in There

10 p.m.

Haruno turned on her computer and logged into her long-unused School Network account.

Moments later, she spotted a familiar name in the day’s top post.

{Good evening, everyone. This is Tenkuji from the Service Club. Yesterday I saw a lot of online discussion about me and our Club President…}

The post title: Everyone Come In and See—Give Me a Chance to Explain and Promote.

“Title’s trash, but it grabs attention.”

Commenting casually, Haruno spent ten seconds skimming the formal text, then clicked the video at the bottom.

This was the post’s core. A shield Yuu deliberately crafted to douse the recent gossip storm about him and Yukino.

Truthfully, the gossip had only raged on the School Network for about a full day, yet Yuu had already devised a conflict-diversion strategy and released a half-finished product to extinguish the flames—whether the reaction was right or wrong remained unknown, but it was shockingly fast.

“As expected of my Yuu-chan.” Haruno nodded naturally. As the video finished loading, she unconsciously straightened her previously slouched back. She stared intently at the clubroom slowly emerging on screen, from dark to light.

Outside the window: a rainy night. The rain sound seemed deliberately amplified, filling the air around the two students. It made their silence all the more striking.

The camera shifted to the handsome male student’s face. Half-lit, half-shadowed lighting perfectly carved his features. The struggle-yet-mustering-courage emotion was clearly conveyed to viewers through the slightly trembling lens.

“Yui, you’ve really misunderstood this whole thing…”

The ponytail girl clenched her fist. With complex emotions, she stared at him: “What misunderstanding! I left the club so I wouldn’t get in the way of your lovey-dovey stuff. Why are you still bothering me!”

Haruno pressed pause.

Her face darkened. Her pale fingertips slowly slid from brow to nose bridge, past full, soft lips. Finally, she slightly opened her mouth and bit the knuckle of her bent index finger.

She was pondering a very important question.

“If it’s just about Yukino-chan’s gossip, he shouldn’t need to go this far to explain… Misunderstanding? Who and what is he trying to clear up?”

“If Yukino-chan alone isn’t enough, does adding Dango-chan make it worth reacting this fast?”

“Mmm, that must be it.”

“He’s not explaining for Yukino-chan, but for Yuigahama Yui—even without finishing the video, Yuu-chan likely wants to use this film to prove he’s clean of gossip with them.”

“But if he only explained for one person, it’d look like a cover-up. So he dragged Yukino-chan in, using the Service Club as an excuse, to clear Yuigahama Yui’s name before she got dragged into the gossip.”

Recalling all the intel she’d gathered—his actions at school, during the field trip, at the Kyoto Nationals—everything flashed through her mind. Haruno grew more convinced her guess made sense, and it was very much like the person she knew.

“Dango-chan is that important to him, huh? Even if not a couple, they’ve definitely reached mutual affection.”

“After all, for the person he likes, he’d even travel 133 kilometers. What’s a mere Cultural Festival video in comparison?”

He always loves going out of his way to please girls.

As for whether Yuigahama liked Yuu, Haruno didn’t doubt it for a second—a man who could make her obsessed, wasn’t it natural he’d be loved by a side character?

The only concern was Yuu’s own intentions.

“So, the target this time is Dango-chan?”

As if speaking to him on the screen, Haruno muttered to herself. Her gaze unconsciously darkened. The corner of her mouth, usually upturned, curved coldly.

All the girls she’d seen at her house—including her own little sister—were primary targets of attention. Yet she never expected the most ordinary, unremarkable one to be the next female lead. She was even suspected of kidnapping her little sister and…

His lover’s wings had grown strong. She wondered—how could she break them completely, leaving him only able to kneel and cling to her legs?

Better buy a basement and lock him in there. That would solve everything once and for all. She could make babies with him every day…

“—Phew, calm down, Haruno.”

But she quickly shook her head. Haruno slapped her jealousy-twisted face twice. The rational monster regained control.

“Overly oppressive methods will only push him further away. I’m at a disadvantage now. Until I confirm he can’t fight back, I must not use the final option.”

Speaking without the slightest self-awareness, Haruno pressed space to distract herself. The roughly one-minute video resumed.

“There’s only one reason. A very simple answer.” Yuu said lovingly to Yuigahama: “Yukinoshita is just my good friend. The one I like… is you!”

SMACK!

She pressed space again.

The irritation in her chest nearly burst from her throat. Haruno took a deep breath. She suppressed the urge to smash the screen with her fist. She stood and paced the room.

She feared if she kept watching, even the rational monster would die under her own fists, and she’d become an emotion-controlled fool—though she somewhat envied such innocence, she refused to become one because of feelings.

“Disgusting.”

Even knowing it was just acting, even having suspected Yuu liked Dango-chan earlier.

But seeing her boyfriend confess to another woman with her own eyes, overwhelming anger and nausea still surged in Haruno’s heart. It kept shaking her composure, making her fingers tremble beyond control.

She refused to admit there was sadness, pain, or any fragile emotion. That didn’t suit Haruno.

Haruno could only be fragile in front of Yuu. If Yuu wasn’t by her side now, she had to act like a mature adult and make rational decisions.

After pacing the room several times and stabilizing her mood, Haruno returned to the computer. She no longer watched the remaining nine-tenths of the video but scrolled down to read other students’ comments.

So the “girlfriend” mentioned earlier was just dialogue?

{I’m on the committee. I thought Tenkuji-kun was really dating the Committee Chair, but today’s words and this video make me doubt… How to put it? Tenkuji-kun’s acting is insanely good!}

{Isn’t this just playing people? The video sucks too! Boycott the Service Club! Boycott Tenkuji!}

{To the one above—see you tomorrow 8 a.m. at the school gate? I’m not Tenkuji-sama, just an enthusiastic regular fan.}

{Confused audience doesn’t get it, but this teaser’s pretty interesting. Kinda curious what happens. Planning to watch on Cultural Festival day. Anyone want to meet up? Females only.}

{Front row selling sunflower seeds, Coca-Cola, Sprite.}

{Congrats! Our Lord Tenkuji has no girlfriend. He’ll always be ours! —by an unknown member of the True Love Fan Club.}

{To the one above—he’s Yuigahama from Class F’s boyfriend. It’s proven, you can give up…}

Seeing the last comment, Haruno slammed her laptop shut, as if afraid it would taint her eyes.

Her chest heaved violently. Her eyes were filled with cold fury. Though it was already 10 p.m., she grabbed her phone and called someone.

“Masuzu-chan? Sorry to bother you this late. I just want to ask a few simple questions…”