The following day after school, sunlight still poured generously into the Service Club room.
When Hikigaya Hachiman pushed open that familiar door, he found Yukinoshita already seated in her usual spot by the window, head lowered as she leafed through a book.
At the sound of the door opening, she looked up, her ice-blue eyes turning toward him.
“Good afternoon, Hikigaya-kun.” Her voice seemed, compared to yesterday, to have shed some of that deliberate coolness, carrying an extra trace of barely perceptible calm.
“…Good afternoon, Yukinoshita.” Hikigaya paused, still addressing her by surname, then walked to his own spot at the other end of the long table and sat down.
The clubroom was very quiet, with only the occasional soft rustle of turning pages and the distant sounds of club activities drifting in from outside the window.
This silence no longer felt as suffocating as it had at the very beginning.
Instead, it nurtured a subtle atmosphere—one that only the two of them could sense.
He took out his textbook but felt somewhat distracted.
The corner of his eye kept drifting uncontrollably toward the window.
The sunlight traced the perfect outline of her profile, her expression focused and serene.
He couldn’t help recalling that fleeting, faint smile of hers from yesterday, and his own embarrassing, hasty retreat.
A twinge of chagrin—one even he found hard to understand—rose from somewhere deep inside.
Yukinoshita appeared to be reading intently, but her thoughts weren’t entirely absorbed by the pages either.
She could feel the glances he cast her way—glances he believed were discreet.
This sensation of being watched didn’t make her uncomfortable.
On the contrary…
it felt strangely pleasant.
She found herself beginning to grow somewhat accustomed to this awkward club member’s presence.
She had even developed an almost…
“familiar” recognition of that perpetually troubled, dead-fish-eyed expression of his.
This unfamiliar feeling puzzled her somewhat, yet she found herself instinctively reluctant to examine it too closely.
“Yesterday’s request,” she suddenly spoke, breaking the silence, though her gaze remained fixed on the pages as if she’d merely brought it up in passing, “did it go smoothly afterward?”
Hikigaya blinked, only then realizing she was asking about the reading club’s survey request.
“Ah…
yeah, more or less.”
He answered vaguely, having no desire to bring up the episode at the supermarket that fell squarely into the category of “unnecessary trouble.”
Yukinoshita responded with a soft “Mm” and didn’t press further.
She closed the book in her hands and turned to look at him instead, her eyes carrying a calm, measured gaze—no longer as sharply penetrating as it had been at first.
“The Service Club’s activities may not always be as…
off-putting as one might anticipate.”
Her words carried her unique, roundabout way of offering reassurance.
“At the very least, they allow one to encounter…
unexpected things.”
Was she trying to comfort him?
Hikigaya looked at her with some surprise.
Yukinoshita Yukino, comforting someone?
This was even more unbelievable than the system suddenly issuing a normal option.
Yet he had to admit, those words did somewhat ease the irritation that had been churning inside him from all the chaotic thoughts.
“Maybe so.”
He murmured in reply, his gaze meeting hers briefly.
Deep within those ice-blue eyes, he seemed to catch a very faint trace of something resembling “understanding.”
In that moment, he felt as if he were seeing again that girl who had smiled at him under the setting sun yesterday evening.
Just as this delicate atmosphere was about to deepen further—
Knock, knock, knock.
A timely knock at the door rang out, once again cutting through the quiet flowing through the clubroom.
“Come in.” Yukinoshita spoke up, her voice returning to its usual clarity and composure.
The door was pushed open, and a girl with a striking bun hairdo timidly peered in.
When her gaze swept across the clubroom and landed on Hikigaya Hachiman, she visibly froze, her eyes widening slightly, her face filled with disbelief and astonishment.
“Hi-Hikigaya-kun?
What are you doing here?”
In her impression, Hikigaya Hachiman was always a loner, hardly ever participating in any group activities, let alone joining a club.
The Service Club?
What kind of club even was this?
Yukinoshita’s gaze calmly shifted to the girl at the door, accurately calling out her name.
“…Yuigahama Yui-san?”
This clear address made Yuigahama freeze once more.
Her eyes went wide, even more astonished than before.
“Yu-Yukinoshita-san…
how, how do you know my name?” They had never formally spoken to each other—they were merely in the same grade.
Sitting to the side, Hikigaya watched Yuigahama’s shocked expression and couldn’t help sighing inwardly.
Almost subconsciously, he explained in a tone that conveyed nothing more than a perfectly ordinary fact.
“This one…
Yukinoshita, she’s been like this since way back.
She probably knows the names and faces of nearly every student in the school.
It’s a kind of…
talent?”
Only after he finished speaking did he realize he might have said too much—and that his tone had carried a certain familiarity with Yukinoshita’s abilities.
Somewhat self-consciously, he averted his gaze and pretended to study the grain of the desk.
Hearing Hikigaya’s explanation, Yukinoshita’s ice-blue eyes flickered faintly.
She shot him a glance.
‘So he remembers it quite clearly.’ However, she didn’t deny it, merely adding a calm, brief remark.
“It’s merely a matter of memorizing the names of classmates in the same grade through the roster.
Nothing particularly special.”
“A-Amazing…” Yuigahama looked at Yukinoshita, her eyes brimming with genuine admiration, before turning toward Hikigaya.
“Hikigaya-kun really knows Yukinoshita-san well…”
That offhand remark instantly made the air in the clubroom delicate again.
Hikigaya’s expression stiffened for a moment, while Yukinoshita impassively lowered her gaze, her fingertips lightly tracing the edge of the book’s pages.
“…Just something I happened to know.” Hikigaya attempted to muddle through vaguely.
Yukinoshita also swiftly steered the topic back on track.
“Well then, Yuigahama-san, please come in.
Have you come to the Service Club with a request?”
“Ah, y-yes!” Yuigahama finally remembered why she had come.
She hurriedly stepped into the clubroom and carefully seated herself on the edge of the chair across from them.
Her hands clasped nervously in front of her, her fingers fidgeting restlessly.
Asking for help didn’t come easily to her.
She was always afraid of imposing on others, more accustomed to going along with people and hiding her true thoughts.
But this time…
she drew a deep breath, doing her best to push down the hesitation in her heart.
“Wh-What I’d like to request…
is making some cookies.”
She spoke in a small voice, somewhat faint from nervousness, her cheeks flushing faintly pink.
“They’re…
meant as a thank-you gift for someone who helped me out a lot.”
Having said this, she instinctively shot a glance at Hikigaya, then quickly lowered her head, her heart uneasy with worry that this request would sound too childish or troublesome and would be rejected.
Hikigaya felt a jolt in his chest.
That ominous premonition grew stronger.
A thank-you gift?
Could it be…
Yukinoshita listened attentively, then spoke with composure.
“Yuigahama-san, the purpose of the Service Club is not simply to resolve the immediate troubles placed before us.”
Her gaze was gentle yet resolute.
“More importantly, it is to help the person making the request gain the ability to resolve problems on their own.
Therefore, regarding this cookie-making request, I believe the better approach is for us to assist you so that you may personally learn how to bake cookies, rather than simply doing it for you.
What do you think?”
Yuigahama blinked, looking somewhat surprised.
Learn to do it herself?
She rarely had the chance to make decisions on her own, much less learn new skills.
But what Yukinoshita-san said sounded very reasonable…
and besides, a thank-you gift made with her own hands would surely convey her feelings better, wouldn’t it?
She stole a glance at Hikigaya.
He still wore no particular expression, but neither did he look as though he found it a bother.
This gave her a small measure of courage.
“Mm…
I, I understand.” She nodded, her voice a bit firmer than before.
“If I can learn how, then…
please help me!
Thank you, Yukinoshita-san!”
“You’re welcome.” The corner of Yukinoshita’s lips seemed to lift almost imperceptibly.
“In that case, we’ll need to borrow the home economics cooking classroom.”
Hearing this, Hikigaya instinctively tried to shrink back, attempting to minimize his presence.
Making cookies?
Together with Yukinoshita and another girl he barely knew?
Just imagining the scene made his scalp tingle.
This was, without a doubt, a top-tier trouble event!
However, Yukinoshita’s gaze had already landed precisely on him.
Those eyes were calm and unruffled, yet carried an unmistakable, brook-no-argument authority.
“Hikigaya-kun.”
She stood up, her tone as natural as if she were stating an established fact.
“Please go to the faculty office and request the key to the cooking classroom from Hiratsuka-sensei.
I recall she should be there this afternoon.”
Hikigaya opened his mouth, wanting to come up with an excuse to decline, but under Yukinoshita’s gaze, every word stuck in his throat.
He watched her walk toward him, the sunlight tracing her slender yet resolute silhouette behind her.
“…Got it.” In the end, he answered with something close to resignation, his voice carrying a barely perceptible trace of helplessness and surrender.
He stood up, doing his best to avoid making eye contact with Yuigahama, whose gaze was filled with gratitude and a hint of curiosity.
Yukinoshita stepped beside him, tilting her head slightly to look at him, and spoke softly at a volume only the two of them could hear.
“This, too, is part of ‘service,’ Hikigaya-kun.”
Her voice seemed to hold a very faint hint of something close to reassurance.
Having said that, she gestured that he could go.
Hikigaya glanced at her, then silently turned and walked toward the clubroom door.
His retreating figure looked somewhat heavy, yet carried a certain resolve born of having no other choice.
Watching his departing back, Yukinoshita’s eyes flickered faintly.
‘Sending him to deal with Hiratsuka-sensei might serve as a small exercise for that personality of his, which leaned far too heavily toward avoidance.’
So she thought, as she then turned to Yuigahama and began asking in detail about her initial ideas regarding the flavor and type of cookies.
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