Chapter 31 – The Service Club's First Request!
The moment Yukinoshita Yukino spoke, control of the room naturally shifted to her.
"Yuigahama-san, you came to the Service Club because you wanted to ask for help with something, didn't you?"
"U-uhm... I heard from Hiratsuka-sensei that this is a place where students can have their wishes granted… right?"
"The Service Club doesn't grant wishes. What we do is help you achieve them yourself. The result still depends on your own effort."
"Eh? Is there really a difference?"
Yuigahama Yui tilted her head in confusion. With her innocent and somewhat simple way of thinking, it was only natural she couldn't tell the difference.
"Of course there is. Giving someone a fish and teaching them how to fish are completely different things. The goal of the Service Club's assistance is to help a person become self-reliant—not to solve their problems for them."
"Wow... that sounds amazing!"
Though she said that, Akira could tell she didn't understand a single word.
Her expression—somewhere between "Ah, I see" and "I totally get it now"—was completely fabricated.
Akira's gaze wandered to Yui's chest for a second, then shifted to Yukinoshita Yukino beside her.
Does the size of a person's heart inversely correlate with their intelligence? he wondered idly.
But then again… Yukinoshita Haruno wasn't exactly small either—and she was terrifyingly smart. So perhaps the theory didn't hold up.
"Alright then, let's get straight to the point. What exactly do you want from the Service Club?" Yukino asked, unwilling to waste more time on pointless explanations. Direct action was always more efficient.
"U-uhm... I... want... cake…"
Her voice was barely audible—soft, hesitant, and filled with embarrassment. She looked so earnest it was almost disarming.
"Yuigahama-san, if you truly wish for our help, then please try not to sound so unsure of yourself."
"O-okay, I mean... I want to learn how to bake a cake."
Thanks to Yukino's firm tone, Yui finally confessed her true reason for coming.
Having grown up reading the mood of those around her, Yui was extremely sensitive to tension. The slight chill in Yukino's voice had been enough for her to instinctively clarify.
"Baking, huh?"
"Yes!"
"Very well. Then the first step will be submitting a request to use the cooking classroom."
Sōbu High had a fully equipped culinary room—complete with modern facilities and regularly restocked ingredients. Naturally, as an elite school, they lacked for nothing in that department.
"Yuigahama-san, wouldn't it be easier to ask one of your friends for help with something like baking?" Yukino asked.
"T-that's... kind of hard to explain…"
"Then perhaps your mother? Surely she could help you."
As a reader of the original story, Akira knew all too well—Yui's mother, the so-called "Lady Asuna" among the neighbors, was a legendary cook, especially famous for her pastries.
So how could her daughter possibly not know how to bake?
"Eh... there are… a lot of reasons…"
Yui's eyes darted to the side awkwardly. Yukino and Akira exchanged a look, then sighed at the same time. Her expression said it all.
"I see... so your mother must have already concluded that 'no amount of teaching will ever work,' huh?"
"Mouu~ Akki-kun! I'm not talking to you anymore!"
Pouting, Yui grabbed Yukino's hand and suddenly pulled her toward the door.
Yukino froze. She hadn't expected Yui to be so physically forward—to the point of holding onto her arm like that.
Since childhood, Yukino had been isolated and distanced by others. She wasn't used to… warmth. Not like this.
"U-um, Yuigahama-san... could you let go? This kind of contact is... a little uncomfortable."
"Eh? Why, Yukinon?"
"Yu... kinon?"
Yukino blinked, utterly bewildered.
Earlier, when Akira was called "Akki-kun," she had smirked to herself.
But now that she was the one with a nickname—it was a different story.
And yet, faced with Yui's genuine warmth, she didn't know how to respond.
The two were opposites in every sense—one cold and distant, the other warm and radiant.
But somehow, when they stood side by side, the atmosphere felt… balanced.
Though Yukino often spoke sharply and with little regard for others' feelings, she wasn't heartless. She simply didn't know how to deal with people as honest and pure-hearted as Yui.
She'd never had friends before—but that didn't mean she never wanted them.
And Yui Yuigahama, with her unfiltered sincerity and spontaneous kindness, brought a faint flicker of that possibility.
Thanks to Hiratsuka-sensei's connections, getting approval to use the cooking room was no issue.
Once inside, the two girls set out the ingredients for the cake. Yukino tied on a clean white apron—her posture neat, her expression composed.
She looked like a small professional chef, graceful and confident.
"So, what do we do now?" Akira asked casually, leaning against the wall.
He could cook just fine, but honestly? He didn't feel like helping.
It wasn't about preserving the "original story" or anything like that—he was just lazy.
And for something like this, he saw no need to interfere.
"Alright, we'll begin with the basics. First, prepare all the ingredients," Yukino said firmly.
"Okay!" Yui nodded enthusiastically, full of determination.
Watching her from the corner of his eye, Akira was speechless.
If cooking talent could be measured in stars, Yui would have exactly zero.
But if culinary disasters earned stars instead, she'd have a whole constellation.
Time passed quietly. The two girls worked diligently, while the lone observer sat in silence with his eyes half-closed.
Eventually, two plates of cake were placed before Akira.
One was perfectly baked, soft and golden, smelling heavenly—obviously Yukino's.
The other… was pitch black, still faintly smoking.
It looked like someone had set charcoal on a plate and called it dessert.
"Your turn to taste," Yukino said, her voice deceptively calm.
Akira stared at the dark lump on the plate, disbelief in his eyes.
Yukino, who had watched Yui's "technique" up close, didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
If Akira's earlier teasing was any indication, she now fully understood why Yui's mother had probably given up teaching her.
"You're joking, right? You actually expect me to eat that?"
"Well, it shouldn't be dangerous. All the ingredients were edible, so… in theory, it's fine."
"Wow! 'Shouldn't' and 'in theory'... you don't even sound sure yourself!"
"Come on. You're a man, aren't you? Show a little responsibility."
"I—"
Akira looked from the burnt cake to Yui's hopeful, sparkling eyes.
He sighed.
He'd faced demons who could crush mountains, survived battles to the death—
but somehow, nothing felt as terrifying as this moment.
Was the cake poisonous? Probably not.
But one thing was certain—his stomach was going to regret this tonight.
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