Who Can Resist Nakano Nino? [170]

The gentle waltz melody drifted through the ballroom, elegant yet easy, like it could carry a secret.

Yukinoshita Yukino stood quietly beside Shirase, her posture composed as ever. But after watching him stare at the dance floor for far too long, curiosity finally won out.

“You’ve been staring at them for quite a while,” she said coolly. “What exactly are you looking at?”

“I’m studying their dance moves,” Shirase replied seriously. “And comparing their skill to my own.”

Yukino’s lips quirked upward. “So? Discovered anything yet?”

Nakano Ichika, sitting close by, looked over as well, clearly interested.

Under the combined gaze of the two girls, Shirase answered solemnly, without even blinking, “Their legs aren’t as pretty as yours.”

“Utterly idiotic!”

Yukino’s expression froze before instantly dropping into an icy glare. Why did I even ask? she thought bitterly. I should’ve known better than to expect anything coherent from him.

“You watched that long, and that’s your conclusion?” Ichika burst out laughing. Unlike Yukino, she found Shirase’s habit of saying the dumbest things with a straight face absolutely hilarious.

“Pretty much,” Shirase said simply, letting his gaze drift downward—first over Ichika’s snow-white calves, then over Yukino’s equally flawless legs.

Yukino instinctively stepped back a little. Having a boy she knew stare openly like that… it felt strangely unsettling.

“Huh? You’re not going to scold me?” Shirase asked suddenly.

Yukino let out a cold snort, glaring at him like he was the most hopeless creature alive. “So now you’re asking to be scolded? Shirase-kun, you’re a truly hopeless pervert.”

“Ahh, that’s the Yukino I know,” Shirase said with satisfaction, stretching lazily. “If you hadn’t said anything, I might’ve started worrying you’d lost your edge.”

He’s beyond saving!

Yukino turned away, deciding he wasn’t worth the brain cells. Whether she was annoyed because he hadn’t asked her to dance or because he was staring at girls’ legs, she didn’t know—and didn’t want to.

Expression dark, she circled around the table, spotted a plate of neatly cut watermelon, stabbed a piece with the fork, and bit into it viciously.

In her mind, it wasn’t watermelon—it was Shirase’s head.

“It seems Yukinoshita-san really can’t handle you,” Ichika said, giggling behind her hand.

Shirase shook his head. “Nah, she just got caught off guard. Normally…”

Ichika leaned in, eyes bright. “Normally what?”

“With a very solemn face,” Shirase said, “I’d tease her until she questions her own existence—ouch, what the hell?”

He rubbed the back of his head and turned around to see a crumpled tissue ball on the floor. Looking up, he found Yukino staring back, juice glass in hand, shaking it slightly in mock warning.

A challenge—and a threat.

“So petty,” Shirase muttered, tossing the tissue into the trash. “And with zero civic virtue.”

Across the table, Yukino sneered. “Does your definition of civic virtue include badmouthing others behind their backs?”

“I didn’t badmouth you.”

“Shirase-kun, I heard everything. Need me to repeat it?”

“What kind of hearing do you have? You could hear me from across the room? Don’t tell me you were eavesdropping?”

“I’d only call it eavesdropping if there weren’t fifty other people around,” Yukino replied coolly.

“Twisting words like that—how malicious!”

Shirase turned back toward Ichika. “See? This is what I mean. Yukinoshita’s the definition of a nasty, two-faced woman.”

Ichika laughed again. “Not really. I actually think Yukinoshita-san is kind of cute.”

From behind the table, Yukino quietly sipped her juice, her cheeks tinged pink.

She definitely wasn’t eavesdropping.

Not exactly.

But she had been paying close attention to everything he said.

So when Shirase had guessed right, guilt pricked faintly at her heart—a rare feeling for her.

Just then, a gentle, mature voice chimed from nearby. “Oh my, isn’t this Shirase-kun?”

Both Shirase and Ichika turned. Approaching them were two figures—a refined, beautiful woman and a younger blonde girl beside her.

“Good evening, Sawamura-san,” Shirase greeted politely. “And Sawamura Eriri-san.”

Ichika didn’t recognize them, but smiled politely nonetheless.

“My, such perfect manners,” said Sawamura Sayuri, her warm, elegant smile revealing traces of amusement. “Hiratsuka-san was right—you really are an impressive boy. Compared to my daughter Eriri here, you’re almost too perfect.”

Here we go again, thought Eriri, puffing out her cheeks. I spent ages dressing like a proper lady tonight! Can’t she give me a little credit for once?

Across the table, Yukino glanced up briefly at the mention of the Sawamuras. Recognizing Sayuri—wife of the diplomat Spencer Sawamura—she lost interest just as quickly and went back to her watermelon.

Still, she quietly filed the detail away. So he knows her too, huh? I’ll have to ask about that later.

“I rewatched one of your matches recently,” Sayuri said, clearly intrigued. “Even my husband commented that your level’s already close to professional. The only thing you’re missing is age and full physical growth.”

“Professional league, huh?” Shirase chuckled. “Still sounds far away.”

Sayuri shook her head, smiling knowingly. “No need for modesty. Even Hiratsuka-san agrees—you already have everything a pro needs.”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Shirase said easily. “I know I’ll play professionally someday. It’s just that right now, I’m focused on the national tournament. That’s my top priority.”

His words carried quiet conviction.

Eriri glanced at him sideways, startled. He really said that without even blinking?

Sayuri’s expression softened into one of genuine admiration. “I see… so that’s your focus right now. I clearly underestimated you.”

Then, with a subtle gleam in her eyes, she nodded toward the dance floor. “I won’t pry into why you’re attending Director Fujihara’s little celebration—but tell me, shouldn’t a boy your age be enjoying himself?”

“You mean dancing?” Shirase asked, instantly catching her drift.

Sayuri smiled. “This young lady beside you is quite lovely, isn’t she? If you ignore such a charming girl at a ball, that makes you a terrible boy indeed.”

Ichika froze, her cheeks instantly turning pink.

Was I really that obvious?!

---

This is a fan translation of 谁能拒绝中野二乃呢？by 六花吖六花. Rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!