Living in the Heart of Tokyo

"This is a problem-solving method shared by Hojou Kyousuke from Class 1-F. While it may be difficult for you to reach his level right now."

"it's definitely worth taking notes and reviewing this carefully," the math teacher, Kazuma Ide, declared passionately from the podium—like a character ripped straight out of some hot-blooded shounen manga.

"Even if you can't be as brilliant as Hojou, learning just a fraction of his approach will benefit you greatly."

Written on the blackboard was exactly the same solution Kyousuke had shared during his last class with 1-F—a method that suited only him, completely unsuitable for the average student.

And yet, here he was presenting it to Class 1-J—the International Culture Class—home to the sons and daughters of returning expatriates and corporate executives.

Whenever Soubu High held its annual events like the school festival, the parents of these students, without fail, were among the honored guests.

Every year, they donated new teaching equipment, or even entire buildings, to the school.

That was also why, while every other class in Soubu High had thirty students on average, 1-J had thirty-eight.

The 38th seat was a special, reserved one—for none other than Hojou Kyousuke.

Currently, seated gracefully in that spot was a girl with long, straight black hair.

Replace the desk and test papers in front of her with a round table and a teacup, and the scene would be like a painting of a beautiful maiden enjoying the spring.

Yes—this was Yukinoshita Yukino, who liked to pass time during breaks by silently observing the foolish behaviors and hidden thoughts of her classmates.

As always, her posture was poised and elegant, but this time her hand slowly rose to her forehead as she let out a quiet sigh.

Why… why did Mr. Ide's expression remind her so much of Sakura at lunchtime today?

For a moment, Yukino almost hallucinated that the man on the podium would suddenly pull out a perfectly folded test paper from his gray suit pocket and proudly unfold it with a flourish, revealing Hojou's perfect score sheet.

"Ta-dah~!"

She could practically hear Yamauchi Sakura's overly energetic voice echoing in her mind.

This was a nightmare.

Yukino silently prayed that when she returned to the Dormitory of Wishes after school, she wouldn't find that girl had already framed and hung those two perfect-score sheets on the wall.

Though to be fair, that worry was unfounded. If Sakura really had such a habit, the dorm's walls would've been covered in certificates long ago.

Even the trophies Kyousuke won in kendo tournaments and math competitions had been split between Sakura and Hojou Mikiko, each carefully keeping their share in their own rooms.

Shaking off that ridiculous thought, Yukino diligently continued taking notes.

As the old words engraved beside Suvorov and Lenin on the Kremlin Wall said:

"The hallmark of a fool is arrogance. The hallmark of the mediocre is deceit. But the hallmark of the truly virtuous and talented is nobility of spirit and humility."

And Yukinoshita Yukino held fast to humility, ever learning—even from someone like Hojou, whose personality was, to put it mildly, questionable.

She strove to extract anything useful from him, anything that might help her improve.

For the record, the "arrogant fool" mentioned in that quote was definitely not meant to hint at Sakura, who had proudly shown off her two perfect-score papers for a full ten minutes earlier.

 At worst, Sakura was just an ignorant, mischievous little girl—still cute in her way.

Completely different from Kasumigaoka Utaha.

And so, Yukino's notebook filled steadily with Kyousuke's solution methods.

Okudera Miki, head pounding from a hangover, slowly opened her eyes.

Beside her, Hiratsuka Shizuka lay sprawled out like a child in deep sleep.

Smiling faintly, Miki gently tugged the blanket—barely covering Shizuka's stomach—back into place and wiped a thin trail of drool from the corner of her mouth.

Barefoot, she stood on the thick carpet and glanced down at her own body, clad only in underwear.

She scanned the room for her clothes but found nothing.

With a small sigh, she picked up the neatly folded pink robe from the bedside table and slipped it on.

Taking a glass of water, she quietly stepped out of the bedroom.

Hiratsuka Shizuka's luxurious apartment had many sections, but only the main entrance had a door.

The rest were separated by simple doorframes—the kind of design that spoke of trust and openness.

As soon as Miki stepped into the living room, she caught sight of slender shoulders and a familiar bob haircut over the back of the black sofa.

Yukino Yukari.

Although Haruno had a similar hairstyle, there was no mistaking Yukino's delicate frame—the kind that always looked like a breeze might blow her away at any moment.

"Good morning, Yukari," Miki greeted softly.

"At this point, it's more like 'good afternoon,' Miki," Yukari replied, turning her head with a gentle smile. She held a dorayaki in one hand.

"Afternoon?" Miki blinked, glancing at the giant floor-to-ceiling window nearby.

The strong midday sunlight filtering through the white curtains told her Yukari was right.

"Damn... I need to hurry to the shop," Miki muttered.

If she wasn't going to open the store today, she'd have to inform the staff and hang a notice on the door.

"Relax. Your investor already took care of everything," Yukari said kindly, waving her free hand. "If you're feeling okay, come have some sweets. Kyousuke dropped these off this morning."

"Kyousuke?" Miki paused, then wandered over to sit beside Yukari.

The leather sofa was cool to the touch, its chill seeping through her cotton robe and waking her senses.

The fog in her hungover mind slowly began to clear, and fragments of last night resurfaced.

"Oh, right... Kyousuke called last night. Shizuka grumbled about him forever." Miki chuckled as she opened the paper bag on the table and took out a dorayaki.

"She said she'd give that womanizing scoundrel a serious scolding," Yukari added with a smile.

But the moment those words left her lips, the atmosphere in the room froze.

Miki's smile slowly faded.

Silence.

Both women held delicate, lovely mouths—but the dorayaki in their hands steadily shrank with each quiet bite.

As the sweet bean paste filled her empty stomach, Okudera Miki felt a strange sense of relief. The hangover's grip loosened; her mind cleared.

"Yukari... what are you thinking, moving into the Dormitory of Wishes (Riyu)?" she asked suddenly, breaking the stillness with an oddly flat, emotionless tone.

Yukari slowly finished the last small piece of dorayaki.

Then, carefully, she stretched out her slender fingers, stuck out her little pink tongue, and gently licked the remaining crumbs from her fingertips.

Only after that did she turn, meeting Miki's gaze with her soft, secretive black eyes—deep and calm as spring water.

"It's delicious," Yukari whispered.

"Yukino?" Miki murmured.

"Miki-chan... as long as I can eat such delicious food, I feel truly happy." Yukari's voice was light, like a fluffy cloud of cotton candy—so gentle it could swallow you whole.

Looking into those dark eyes, Miki saw not spring water this time, but the quiet sea in spring—calm, unshakable, untouchable.

No matter what she said, this fragile woman would not be swayed.

"Such delicious food, huh..." Miki echoed softly.

The paper bag bore the elegant logo of the Meiji Memorial Hall—a place that was clearly far from cheap.

For the average person, such a remark would mean, "Someday I'll be rich enough to dine at places like this every day."

But for these two women, "delicious" meant something far more personal—an exclusive kind of magic that came with meals made by Kyousuke.

"I see..." Okudera Miki nodded, swallowing the rest of what she wanted to say.

When you're faced with a woman whose only joy in life seems to be eating good food, could you really take that small happiness away from her?

"And what about Haruno?" Miki asked, changing the subject.

"She's already gone to class." Yukari smiled softly as she picked up another dorayaki, closing her eyes in bliss as she took a bite.

"Oh, right. She is still a student after all."

Just like Kyousuke, her kouhai—Yukinoshita Haruno—never really gave off the vibe of a mere college student.

Whether she was drinking or shopping, she handled herself like someone who'd spent years honing their skills in the adult world.

"She's got it rough too, doesn't she?" Miki sighed.

They had known Haruno for quite some time.

Hiratsuka Shizuka had even been her high school teacher.

So even if Haruno rarely spoke about herself, they had picked up plenty about her life over time.

Like her practiced skill in dodging drinks—technically it was Shizuka who always tried to pressure her into drinking more, but in the end, it was Haruno who stayed sober while Shizuka collapsed early.

Or her incredible tolerance—after knocking out little Shizuka for fun, she'd turn to Miki and Yukino next, forcing them into another drinking round.

This time she'd actually been drinking properly herself... and yet they still ended up wasted before she did.

These little tricks were honed from countless formal parties and banquets she'd attended on behalf of the prestigious Yukinoshita family.

Even though she'd only reached legal drinking age a year ago, she'd been groomed for this role far longer.

Shizuka once let slip that, even in high school, Haruno would sometimes suddenly get called away from class.

A black luxury car would pick her up from the gates.

She was being introduced to her family's web of connections—preparing to inherit the Yukinoshita legacy.

Could someone like that really get drunk so easily?

"Yeah..." Yukari murmured, savoring the taste with eyes half-closed.

No one really had it easy—not even herself. But that was why she treasured these moments so much.

Little Miki had gotten drunk beyond saving last night. She hadn't.

When Kyousuke told Haruno, "Even if you don't get drunk easily, you should drink less. Take care of your health," Haruno had smiled as usual... but Yukino caught the faint flicker in her expression.

Later, when Haruno stepped into the corner of the room to take a call, she was likely tipsy enough to forget her phone had been set to speaker mode after Shizuka had fought to grab it earlier.

Yukari heard everything loud and clear.

"Ughh... I'm not lying, you know~? When you said 'even if you don't get drunk, drink less,' it hit me like a drug... you totally captured my heart, you villain~"

"Oh my, Hojou, you really don't know, do you? I can get drunk. When it gets too much, I just make myself throw up. The feeling is so intense it's like a chill shooting straight to the top of my skull... like my head's going to split open..."

Haruno's drunken words were so out of character.

Talk of vomiting and skull-splitting headaches?

That wasn't her usual polished way of speaking.

With her social experience, she would've chosen a more graceful metaphor.

So—was this drunken nonsense, or the truth slipping free after too much alcohol?

...Would she be the next one Kyousuke saved?

Yukino didn't care to find out. As long as she could keep eating delicious food, that was enough.

"Speaking of which... wasn't Haruno's little sister recently made one of Shizuka's students too?" Okudera Miki casually recalled, glancing at a photo a shop clerk had just sent her.

"Mm. She's my student as well," Yukari said without concern.

"We really need to find Shizuka a boyfriend," Miki sighed, holding her head.

This woman had no male friends whatsoever, so whenever she was free, she came to bother them instead.

Sure, Miki and Yukino didn't have boyfriends either—but they had men they liked.

Shizuka was in a whole different category—the eternal single dog.

"Yeah..." Yukari agreed.

If not for Shizuka's invitation yesterday, she would've been at home, happily enjoying Kyousuke-kun's freshly made sashimi.

She could have even let him feed her by hand when no one else was around.

Just imagining it made her want to sprout wings and fly straight home.

'Thud—!'

"Ahhh! Ow ow ow!!"

A loud crash from the bedroom snapped them out of their thoughts.

Turning their heads, they saw Hiratsuka standing in the doorway, dressed only in white underwear, holding her forehead with one hand and clutching her right foot with the other as she groaned in pain.

Wow.

One sound, two kinds of damage—structural and emotional.

This dramatic entrance was so unlike the refined Shizuka who'd greeted them before that both Miki and Yukino exchanged silent glances, sighing inwardly.

What a waste of a pretty face, big chest, and long legs, they thought.

Still, the two of them hurried over to help their friend.

"Ugh... the worst part of drinking is always the morning after. It's unbearable..." Shizuka flopped backwards onto the couch, her head resting perfectly on the top of the custom-made backrest—designed exactly for her height.

"Miki... Yukari... water, please..." she murmured, eyes shut as if she might fall asleep again any second.

"Shizuka, this is the only time you ever act like a proper girl, you know," Miki muttered, heading to the bedroom to fetch some clothes for her friend.

Yukari, meanwhile, brought over the hangover soup Kyousuke had made earlier.

"I'm not a girl—I'm a mature, refined career woman, thank you very much!"

The drunken woman on the sofa waved her hands blindly over her smooth skin, clearly searching for her cigarette case.

"Wait... who took off my clothes?"