Hikigaya Hachiman walked back toward the cooking classroom, plastic bag of drinks in hand, with a feeling akin to marching to his own execution.
He had dawdled in front of the vending machine for a long time, hoping time might dilute the overwhelmingly awkward atmosphere from earlier, but what had to be faced would be faced eventually.
He drew a deep breath and pushed open the door.
The scene that met his eyes allowed him a small sigh of relief.
Yukinoshita was wearing oven mitts, pulling a fresh baking tray out of the oven, while Yuigahama hovered nervously beside her, watching.
The burnt smell lingering in the air was noticeably fainter than before, replaced by something that…
could barely be called the aroma of cookies.
“Ah, Hikigaya-kun, you’re back!” Yuigahama greeted him as soon as she saw him, though a trace of nervousness still flickered in her eyes.
Hikigaya silently handed the strawberry milk to Yuigahama, then placed the other bottle—unsweetened oolong tea—naturally onto the workstation beside Yukinoshita’s hand.
Yukinoshita’s movements paused, just barely.
She didn’t look at him, merely murmured a quiet “Thank you,” her voice so soft it was barely audible, though the rims of her ears quietly flushed a faint pink.
His gaze fell upon the newly baked cookies.
This batch was undoubtedly a vast improvement over that tray of “charcoal.” At the very least, one could recognize them as cookies.
The color was only slightly too dark, rather than thoroughly scorched black.
It seemed that, under hands-on guidance, Yuigahama had indeed made decent progress.
“These…
look edible this time,” Hikigaya commented dryly, trying to offer something resembling a compliment.
“R-Really?” Yuigahama’s eyes brightened for a moment but then dimmed again.
“But…
they’re still so far from what Yukinoshita-san made…”
Yukinoshita held a cookie out in front of Hikigaya, her tone having returned to its usual coolness, though a careful listener might detect a barely perceptible tension within it.
“Practice is the sole criterion for testing truth.”
‘Here we go again.’ Hikigaya lamented inwardly, but resigned himself and accepted the “improved version” cookie.
He closed his eyes and, bracing for death, took a bite.
The apocalyptic flavor he had anticipated did not materialize.
The texture was somewhat hard, the sweetness uneven—bland in some spots and overly sugary in others—with a faint, elusive alkaline aftertaste.
But no matter what, this was, indisputably, a food item that could be swallowed, something that could even be called a “cookie.”
“How is it?” Yuigahama held her breath and asked nervously.
Hikigaya forced the mouthful of cookie down with effort, doing his best to keep his expression neutral.
“…Better than last time.
At least, it won’t kill anyone.”
That was probably the highest praise he was capable of giving.
However, such an evaluation clearly failed to satisfy Yuigahama.
Her shoulders drooped, her face written all over with dejection.
“I knew it…
I still can’t do it…
I’m just so clumsy…”
Seeing her like this, Hikigaya opened his mouth, wanting to say something comforting, but he had no idea how to begin.
He had never been any good at handling emotional situations like this.
Just then, that familiar, icy mechanical voice resounded inside his head once again.
[Key Dialogue Node Detected: The Weight of Feelings.]
[Option 1: Objectively evaluate the cookie’s merits and flaws, and offer suggestions for improvement.
(Reward: Cooking Knowledge +1, Yuigahama Yui’s Sense of Frustration Slightly Increases)]
[Option 2: Say to Yuigahama Yui: “Actually, how the cookies turn out isn’t what matters.
What matters is whether you truly put your heart into making them.
As long as you gave it your all and poured your sincere feelings into them, the person receiving them will definitely feel it.” (Reward: Yuigahama Yui’s Favorability Increases, Yukinoshita Yukino’s Complex Gaze)]
[Option 3: Remain silent.
Wait for Yukinoshita to handle it.
(Reward: Skill “Staying Out of It (Basic)” — Slightly reduces the probability of being dragged into emotional entanglements)]
Option 2…
Hikigaya stared at that description and felt his chronic embarrassment disorder about to flare up again.
This kind of line, sounding like it was copied straight out of some youth romance manga—did he really have to say it out loud?
But, looking at Yuigahama’s expression, which was on the verge of tears, and then considering the possible consequences of Option 1 and Option 3…
He clenched his teeth, drew a deep breath, and with a tone that even he found awkward—an attempt at sounding gentle that actually came out rather stiff—he spoke to Yuigahama.
“Actually…
how the cookies turn out doesn’t really matter.”
Both Yuigahama and Yukinoshita turned to look at him.
Steeling himself and avoiding Yukinoshita’s probing gaze, he continued reciting from the script in his head.
“What matters is…
whether you truly put your heart into making them.
As long as you gave it your all and poured your sincere feelings into them, the person receiving them…
will definitely feel it.”
After delivering those lines, Hikigaya felt he was on the verge of complete social annihilation.
Words like that, coming out of his mouth—the sheer dissonance was overwhelming.
However, to his utter surprise, after Yuigahama Yui heard him out, she stared blankly at him for a few seconds.
The dejection on her face gradually faded, replaced by a peculiar expression.
She suddenly burst out with a pfft of laughter, wiped the corner of her eye with the back of her hand, and said in a tone laced with teasing and knowing amusement.
“Hikigaya-kun, those words…
they sound like something a playboy would say, don’t they?”
“Haah?!” Hikigaya was completely blindsided and nearly choked on his own saliva.
‘A p-playboy?!’ This was nothing like the reaction he had anticipated!
Yuigahama, however, seemed to have flipped some kind of switch.
Her smile turned bright and cheerful.
She turned toward Yukinoshita, eyes sparkling, and in an affectionate tone tinged with a playful, coaxing lilt, she tentatively called out, “Right, Yukinon~?”
This sudden form of address made Yukinoshita’s entire body stiffen.
A clear flash of shock and bewilderment shot through her ice-blue eyes.
She instinctively moved to correct it.
“Yuigahama-san, that name…”
“Ehhh—?” Yuigahama immediately pursed her lips.
Her eyes grew moist in an instant, and she looked at Yukinoshita with glistening, tearful eyes, her voice trembling with a note of grievance.
“Does that mean…
we’re still not friends?”
Faced with this straightforward “friendship offensive,” Yukinoshita was clearly struggling to hold her ground.
She looked at Yuigahama’s expression, which practically screamed, “If you say no, I’ll cry,” and opened her mouth.
The words of refusal circled the tip of her tongue several times before ultimately dissolving into a barely audible sigh.
With a touch of helplessness, she gave an almost imperceptible nod.
“…As you wish.”
“Yay!
Yukinon!” Yuigahama’s tears instantly turned to smiles.
Overjoyed, she threw her arms around Yukinoshita’s arm and nuzzled against her like a happy little animal.
“Yukinon is the best!”
Yukinoshita’s body went rigid in an instant.
The arm Yuigahama was clinging to hovered awkwardly in the air, at a complete loss.
An expression that mixed embarrassment, helplessness, and perhaps a trace of…
an unfamiliar, subtle emotion—one born of being relied upon and liked so openly and directly—surfaced on her face.
She cast a pleading look toward Hikigaya, only to find that the very culprit responsible was watching them, the corner of his mouth seemingly curved into a very faint smile—one even he himself hadn’t noticed.
“Isn’t that nice,” he said softly, his tone carrying a rare sense of calm.
Yukinoshita glared at him, but her rigid body unconsciously relaxed just a little.
Afterward, Yuigahama practiced once more under Yukinoshita’s guidance.
Though the final product was still far from stellar, her mindset had clearly shifted.
She no longer grew discouraged so easily, and a smile stayed on her face the entire time.
By the time club activities ended, the sky was nearing dusk.
“I really can’t thank you both enough for today!
Yukinon, Hikigaya-kun!” Yuigahama waved vigorously at the school gate, her face beaming with a radiant smile.
“I’ll practice again tomorrow!
I’ve got to go now, gotta catch the train!” With that, she turned and jogged off, merging into the after-school crowd.
Only Hikigaya and Yukinoshita remained, walking side by side back toward the school building.
The setting sun stretched their shadows long.
“Even though the process was a bit…
chaotic,” Hikigaya spoke up unprompted, breaking the silence, “this activity…
didn’t feel so bad.”
Yukinoshita responded with a soft “Mm.” Her gaze was fixed on the slope ahead, bathed in the sunset glow.
After a moment, she spoke slowly.
“The Service Club…
perhaps that is exactly the kind of place it is.”
Hikigaya hesitated, then finally asked the question that had been circling in his mind for a long time.
“Back then…
why did you want to start the Service Club?”
Yukinoshita’s steps slowed just slightly.
She was silent for a moment, as if weighing her words.
The evening breeze stirred her hair, and her profile appeared especially gentle in the glow of the setting sun.
“It was…
to convey a certain kind of strength, I suppose.” Her voice was very soft, yet carried a resolute power.
“Back in elementary school, there was this idiot.
He was clearly scared himself, but he stood up to help a girl who was being isolated and bullied.
And in the end…
he ended up being targeted by those people instead.”
Hikigaya’s heart skipped a beat.
Yukinoshita turned her head, her ice-blue eyes meeting his directly.
That gaze seemed as if it could pierce through time itself, reaching some scene from long ago.
“The way he looked back then was really stupid, and so pitiful…
But that clumsy courage of his—the courage to help someone even when he was scared…
I thought, it shouldn’t be forgotten.”
Her gaze was too direct.
The emotions contained within it were too complex.
Hikigaya was instantly thrown into complete disarray.
A blush he couldn’t control began heating his cheeks, and his heart pounded like a war drum inside his chest.
He abruptly tore his gaze away and practically stammered out a single line.
“I-I just remembered I have something to do!
Gotta go!”
With that, as though pursued by a wild beast, he fled without looking back—charged off in another direction and vanished around the corner of the school building in the blink of an eye.
Watching his panicked, fleeing figure, Yukinoshita stood in place.
That faint trace of tenderness that had surfaced because of the memory slowly faded, replaced by a hint of loneliness so clandestine even she herself didn’t notice.
But soon, that loneliness dispersed, and the corner of her lips lifted into a quiet, genuine curve.
She turned around and continued walking up the slope alone.
The setting sun outlined her silhouette—slender, and resolute.
…
Meanwhile, at Yuigahama’s home.
“I’m home!” Yuigahama pushed open the door with her usual energy.
“Welcome back, Yui.” Yuigahama’s mother poked her head out from the kitchen.
Seeing the smile on her daughter’s face—one that carried a certain determination and joy different from usual—she asked curiously.
“You seem to be in a very good mood today.
Did something nice happen?”
“Mm!” Yuigahama nodded firmly, changed into her slippers, and said excitedly, “Mom, I want to learn how to make cookies!
The really delicious kind!”
“Oh?
Why the sudden urge to learn baking?” Her mother wiped her hands and approached with a smile, a teasing glint in her eyes.
“Are you making them for someone special?
Could it be…
a boyfriend?”
“B-Boyfriend?!” Yuigahama’s face instantly turned bright red, and she waved her hands frantically in denial.
“No way!
Mom, don’t say stuff like that!
It’s…
it’s to thank a friend who helped me!”
“A friend, huh…” Her mother deliberately drew out the words, the teasing look in her eyes growing even stronger.
“What kind of friend is it?
A boy?”
Yuigahama froze for a moment.
In her mind, images instantly surfaced—Hikigaya Hachiman’s perpetually expressionless face, the way he handed her the strawberry milk, the way he steeled himself and ate her failed cookies, and that awkward yet somewhat earnest expression he wore while delivering that “playboy line”…
Her cheeks flushed even redder, but this time she didn’t deny it right away.
Instead, she lowered her head slightly, and a sweet, bashful smile unconsciously tugged at the corner of her lips.
In a soft voice, she answered.
“Mm…
he’s a really wonderful, really cool guy.”
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