It felt like she had been floating in the clouds since birth, carried by wings, her bare feet never once touching the ground—a true angel.
For the first ti in her life, the genius Yukinoshita Yukino witnessed what studying was like for ordinary people.
Katou-san... is really dumb.
No, that wasn't right. She's just... not that bright.
Actually—no, that wasn't quite it either. She's simply not a genius.
It was rude, but she couldn't help thinking it.
Of course, this wasn't because Katou gumi had vaguely questioned her abilities before the tutoring session began. No, not at all. It was purely because Yukino had no friends and had never seen how regular people studied.
Like a stranger walking into a restaurant and checking out what others were eating, she found herself observing her surroundings, mimicking Hojou Kyousuke's teaching thods.
Isn't this basically the sa as my plan of morizing every question?
I could totally use this strategy when I tutor in Japanese later!
anwhile, Katou gumi had no idea what sort of terrifying thoughts the girl beside her was brewing.
She was simply enjoying Hojou's tutoring with genuine joy.
His clear, vibrant voice was a far cry from the droning lullabies of their school teachers.
His dynamic tone kept her fully engaged, start to finish.
If she knew what Yukino was really thinking, gumi might've dragged Kyousuke into a dramatic duel right there—a battle not just for superiority, but for the right to tutor her.
Only the victor could be her guide.
Kyousuke, for his part, didn't spare Yukino another glance.
He was completely absorbed in the eager, sparkling gaze gumi gave him—a hunger for knowledge he rarely saw, and certainly not when he was tutoring Eriri.
That idiot always blad her poor grades on him.
"It's all your fault!" she'd whine. "I can't focus because you're here!"
But the mont he offered to leave so she could study alone, she'd bare her little fang and yell,
"Heartless jerk! Cold-blooded scumbag! You trying to run away from your responsibilities!?"
Still, to her credit—even if she wasn't as obedient as gumi—Eriri never threw her textbooks into the trash or gave up.
She'd just turn her golden curls into a bird's nest while furiously tackling problems.
Sure, she was a fool.
But a tenacious, determined one.
You could tell just by how her obsession with drawing had ruined her eyesight.
The joyful tutoring session only lasted about thirty minutes before it was cut short by Yukino's gentle voice.
The table was now filled with food.
Technically speaking, Yukinoshita and Katou were guests—but clearly, no one was treating them that way.
As always, it was communal dining.
While Kyousuke fought Eriri for the TV remote, Naoka was already thundering up the stairs to bang on Yamauchi Sakura's door and drag her and Mitsuha down for dinner.
"Awwww~ Hojou-nii's not cooking tonight? Booo~"
Yotsuba whispered beside him with disappointnt—but it didn't last.
Her eyes lit up in the next instant.
Because the one cooking was her best friend: Yukino Yukari.
"Ahh, I missed this! Yukari's tempura! Yukari's grilled fish! Yukari's rice balls! Yukino's—"
She stared at the spread on the table, already drooling as she listed each dish.
A few minutes later, Sakura and Mitsuha ca downstairs, arms linked like sisters in matching loungewear, looking every bit the close-knit pair.
Kyousuke found himself flanked by Yotsuba and his two new underlings.
So Sakura cheerfully pulled Mitsuha and gumi over to sit beside her.
Kyousuke usually followed the old-school rule of no talking while eating, keeping quiet even with an empty mouth.
He liked to say, "als are the closest we get to heaven." (Mainly to trick others into letting him eat in peace.)
But with this many people, total silence would've made poor Eriri's nerves snap. She'd probably chew each bite 500 tis in terror.
Not that Kyousuke had to initiate anything—Sakura had already started showering Yukari with over-the-top praise for the food, with Yotsuba as her enthusiastic hype girl.
Sakura gushed about how green the stir-fried veggies looked.
Yotsuba chid in, "Like springti!"
Sakura praised the perfect texture of the rice.
Yotsuba added, "Just like a smart rice cooker!"
Sakura—
Eventually, their nonsense hit Yukari's limit.
The strictest and most refined of them all, she wasn't about to let Sakura run the show forever.
Knowing Sakura hated being lectured, Yukari launched into a full-blown lecture—on the history and evolution of rice cookers.
It was super effective.
Yotsuba imdiately put her hands together in a pleading gesture. "Please, Master, no more…"
But Sakura's eyes sparkled with curiosity.
She looked just as eager as gumi did earlier.
"Tell more! Just a bit more—I love hearing this stuff!"
She didn't like reading, sure.
But if she wanted to win a future argunt about cooking, she needed ammo.
Next ti soone told her, "You can't praise cooking done by a rice cooker," she'd throw out Yukari's expert facts and silence them.
She didn't always understand what Yukari said—but she loved how smart it sounded.
Kyousuke remained silent, not because he was uninterested, but because his mouth was too full to talk.
No matter who sat next to him, his bowl always mysteriously refilled with food.
Back when Eriri lived at ho, she'd shalessly pile food into his bowl in front of her parents, giving so excuse about "not wasting food." Nowadays, she just barked, "Eat it!"
Today, though, Kyousuke noticed the pace had picked up even more.
Halfway through the al, he realized Katou—sitting next to Yotsuba—was subtly feeding him like a stealthy ninja.
If it were soone shy or with a small appetite, they might've eaten until they burst without even realizing it.
Kyousuke gave her a smile, then wordlessly returned the favor—plopping a big chunk of at into her bowl.
"Eat up! If you bulk up like a sumo wrestler, I guarantee you'll never be overlooked again!" he joked.
The bob-haired girl didn't respond—but her chopsticks sped up.
Now even Yotsuba's bowl was mysteriously overflowing.
The girl thought it was a loving gesture from Yukari or Hojou-nii and gleefully stuffed her cheeks.
As for her sister…
That idiot probably knew exactly how many grains of rice were in her bowl by now.
"Mitsuha, you okay? Stomachache?"
Kyousuke glanced at her.
She'd been quietly stirring her rice, head down.
He didn't bother asking if the food wasn't to her taste—he knew how easy she was to please.
Ordinary ho cooking was her favorite, and even now, a simple chocolate cake could make her day.
"Mm-hmm~"
She looked up and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, forcing a smile across her pale face.
Kyousuke's eyes flickered.
He was just about to say sothing when—
"C'mon, eat up! Yukari worked super hard on this after hearing you and Yotsuba were coming."
Sakura abandoned Yukari and plopped a big pile of ginger pork into Mitsuha's bowl.
"If you keep making that face, you'll ruin my appetite," Mitsuha muttered, glancing helplessly at Sakura.
"Finish all your at! If you want to chase a happy life, you can't skip als, Mitsuha!" Sakura declared with the air of a wise sage.
"Maybe save the philosophical life advice for after dinner? You're the one who's eaten the least so far," Naoka muttered.
At her words, everyone glanced at Sakura's bowl—almost untouched.
And just like that, as if responding to a signal, five or six pairs of chopsticks lunged toward her food all at once.
"Nooo!!" Sakura yelped, instantly clutching her bowl and shoveling rice into her mouth in a panic.
Dinner, movies, chatting…
As the sky darkened and stars circled the moon, Yukinoshita and Katou had already changed back into their school uniforms.
"Ehhhh~ Co on, gumi, stay over tonight too~~ This is my once-in-a-lifeti request!"
Sakura clung to her hand, shaking it like a child throwing a tantrum.
She didn't leave out Mitsuha and Yukino either, turning to them with the sa "once-in-a-lifeti" request.
"I wouldn't mind, but if I don't go ho for two days in a row, my parents will worry," gumi replied with a gentle smile, her voice as soft as ever—but firm.
Unlike her, Yukinoshita visibly flinched when she heard the "once-in-a-lifeti" line.
Mitsuha's expression was also hard to read.
"All right, everyone, give your addresses. I'll take you ho," Kyousuke appeared from the storage room with three middle school girls in tow.
The room was packed with gifts from publishers and rch companies, and the three girls were each carrying loads of items like little mules.
True to his "everyone gets a share" policy, Kyousuke had prepared bags for Mitsuha, gumi, and Yukino too.
Outside the dorm, a black company van was already parked by the entrance.
Kisaki's efficiency was second to none—he'd only ntioned this morning that they needed new company vehicles, and by evening, it had arrived.
The driver? Hirata of course.
Why? Simple.
Not only was he the best driver in the company, but he could also fight.
To drive for the boss, you needed to survive blood and fire.
Today, when the new van arrived, the younger guys in the company all fought over the driver's seat.
They knew the boss had a big household—aning the van would be in demand.
But this was Hirata.
The Right Fist of the Handless Demon.
He flattened all of them with one punch each—like casually picking his nose.
"Hirata, what happened to your face?"
Under the dorm's bright porch light, Kyousuke imdiately noticed Hirata's bruised, swollen left eye.
"Thanks for your concern, Boss! I just tripped and fell!" Hirata shouted energetically.
"Onto soone's fist?" soone quipped with a grin.
"That's right!"
His voice grew even more spirited, making the two quirky girls, Kayo and Sachiko, itch to try it themselves.
"Will that affect your driving?"
Kyousuke didn't press the issue. He knew exactly what kind of n he had under him—restless unless they got into at least two fights a day.
"Not at all!" Hirata declared, pounding his chest.
He forced his eye wide open, and in the dim light, his battered face looked positively monstrous.
Yukino had heard rumors about Hojou Kyousuke—the most violent delinquent in Tokyo—and she knew he had plenty of underlings at school.
But only now, staring at the terrifying man in a black suit behind the wheel, did she truly understand what "Handless Demon" ant.
If even the driver was this scary, how terrifying must Kyousuke's hidden side be—the one who commanded these people?
In that mont, a certain quote from Sakura ca to mind:
"Aren't we all blooming together in the spring breeze?"
Here, at the Ruyi Dorm, before girls like Sakura, Kyousuke was a warm spring breeze.
But in the world beneath the light, he must be the biting winter wind.
"All right, get in."
Instead of letting Hirata open the door, Kyousuke pulled it open himself, gesturing for the girls to board.
Sakura didn't try to stop them anymore.
Instead, she cheerfully said, "Yukino, gumi—don't forget to watch the awards show tomorrow! Kyousuke and I will be on TV~~!"
Yotsuba and her two friends were the most excited, not the least bit intimidated by the fierce-looking driver.
They scrambled into the van and made a beeline for the back row, where they huddled together and started whispering conspiratorially.
Yukino glanced at the other two, then quietly took a seat by herself.
The van pulled away from the luxury residential area and rged onto Route 437.
By logic, Mitsuha should've been dropped off first since she lived the farthest.
But Kyousuke wasn't quite ready to part ways with her, and Yotsuba insisted on seeing her friends ho first.
So ironically, the first to arrive ho was Katou gumi, whose house was just a short distance away in Kami-Ikebukuro 3-cho.
Kyousuke got out from the passenger seat, opened the door, and offered his hand to help her down.
"If you see any writers you like on TV tomorrow, text . I'll get you an autograph," he said with a smile.
"Mmm, but actually~ I haven't read that many books. And the authors I like—I've already got all their signed copies~"
gumi tilted her head, face upturned.
Under the streetlight, her black eyes shimred with soft halos of light, quietly enchanting.
"I see... then I'll bring you a souvenir instead," Kyousuke replied, blinking in surprise. He hadn't expected her to be so into book signings.
"Thanks~ That'd be nice."
She said it lightly, but in her heart, gumi knew—
The most valuable souvenir wouldn't be coming to her.
"Well, see you later then."
"Mm… huh?"
She nodded, about to say sothing more—
When suddenly, the front door of her house opened.
And the girl who could smile through the apocalypse instantly snapped into action.
Without a word, she yanked the passenger door open and shoved Kyousuke back inside.
"Safe travels! See you tomorrow!"
Leaving that line behind, she turned and dashed through the gate into her front yard without even a glance back.
"Huh? Mom? Where are you going so late?" Her voice was light and breezy, as if nothing had happened.
Just like Sakura said—when it cos to battles, strike first.
gumi had learned this well from her sister.
Whenever her sister stayed out late and ca ho to find their mom still up watching TV, she'd imdiately scold her with:
"Geez, Mom, still watching TV this late? Won your age shouldn't stay up—you'll wake up with wrinkles exploding across your face like fireworks!"
gumi had always marveled at her sister's cunning and took ntal notes of these "every girl will need this soday" tactics.
"Miss. Kyoko next door said she needed help with sothing. I'm just going to check,"
gumi's mother, Tomoko, was startled by her daughter's sudden voice.
She'd been so focused on staring at the black luxury van that she hadn't even noticed gumi's return.
"Auntie Kyoko again? Did she make too much kimchi?" gumi asked playfully, rolling with it.
"Probably. That's about the only thing she can make," Tomoko chuckled, completely overlooking how her daughter had appeared out of nowhere or what that giant bag she was carrying was.
"Don't be out too long, okay?"
The girl offered a gentle reminder.
"Mm, don't worry," her mother replied with a smile.
———————————————————————
And just like that, a potential late-night "interrogation" vanished without a trace.
Swinging her arms lightly, Katou gumi skipped into the house.
She casually inford her dad, who was still watching TV, that Mom had gone next door.
Then she headed back to her room.
She stripped off her school uniform and stood in front of her full-length mirror wearing nothing but a white cotton camisole and shorts, hesitating for a couple of seconds before cheerfully deciding to leave the laundry for tomorrow.
After changing into a pink-and-white striped sleep dress, her first instinct was to flop onto the bed and scroll through her phone.
But then her eyes landed on the big gift bag Hojou had given her, still sitting on the floor.
She opened it and took out the figures—Saitama-sensei, Genos, Mitsuha, and others—then carefully arranged them on the empty spots on her bookshelf.
It was a small bookshelf, mostly filled with study guides.
The few non-school-related books were fashion and beauty magazines—how to dress, how to do makeup, that sort of thing.
But this sester, sothing had changed.
Now there were manga, novels, even DVDs sitting on the shelves.
All related to Hojou Kyousuke's works.
So she bought herself.
Others he gave to her. But to gumi, those were two entirely different things.
A signed book, gifted personally by a famous writer—how could that not be special?
gumi had never imagined she'd experience sothing like this. And with that special "buff" of his signature and ssage, she had genuinely grown to love his stories.
She pulled out a copy of The Devotion of Suspect X and opened to the title page. There, in Hojou's handwriting, was a personal inscription:
"The true aning of 'ordinary' isn't being average or common—it's about being connected."
She'd repeated that line in her mind countless tis—millions, probably. And every ti, it stirred sothing deep in her heart.
Like a rushing current.
Like sothing trying to sprout from within.
It itched—made her want to press her hand against her chest and scratch at the feeling.
She didn't know if she'd truly grasped the aning of that sentence. And she had no plans to ask Hojou what it ant, either.
She knew that whatever was budding inside her—if she kept nurturing it gently—it would one day grow into sothing towering and impossible to ignore.
For most people, just eting the creator of a story they loved would be enough of a miracle.
But she had more than that.
She had a personal inscription.
She had tutoring from a genius after school.
Hngh…
She could feel it now. Just a tiny bit…
She was starting to get a little carried away.
Leaning back in her chair, gumi stared up at the ceiling.
Her eyes landed on the lamp above her, its cover painted with a blue boat sailing under a crescent moon.
She'd planned to take out her notes and review the things Hojou had taught her earlier—but instead, she grabbed her phone, snapped a photo of the new figures on her bookshelf, and sent it to the family group chat.
Sure enough, not even two seconds passed before her cousin Katou Keiichi replied with a ridiculously long voice ssage.
Since her mom was over at Aunt Kyoko's, no one would be knocking on her door to disturb her tonight.
She casually ignored a call from her sister, switched her phone to silent mode, and turned on her desk lamp.
It was ti to study.
She might be just an average, cute girl—but if she added "idiot" on top of that, wouldn't that make her not average anymore?
She couldn't let Yukinoshita-san look down on her.
Even the calst, most composed girls have their own little prides. Their own tiny sparks of defiance.
Her "ordinary" ant that no matter where she went, no matter the situation, she could always stay right in the middle.
Right now, in her second year at Toyogasaki Academy—middle of the pack.
Next year, in her final year of high school—still middle.
When she applied to college, she'd aim for a top-tier school—but among those top-tier applicants, she'd still be solidly in the middle.
"The true aning of 'ordinary' isn't being average or common—it's about being connected."
Don't forget that line, gumi.
She'd never heard Hojou say it out loud.
But even so, in her heart, she could hear his voice saying it clearly.
———————————————————————
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