To Natsukawa Kanade's surprise, Yukinoshita Yukino wasn't nearly as angry as he'd expected.
Since they left the bookstore, she hadn't said a single word to him—not even one of her classic icy jabs—but her face didn't show any signs of being particularly upset either. If anything, she looked as calm and distant as ever, maybe even slightly indifferent. No "How dare you talk behind my back," no sharp sarcasm, not even a smug little hmph.
Just that serene, unreadable Yukino look, like nothing had happened.
It was weird. Too weird.
In the past, if he so much as commented on her tea-making skills being a little too traditional, she'd have shot him down with a full verbal barrage. But this time, even after he'd basically exposed her secret clumsiness to the manager, she just kept walking ahead like some regal snow queen. Silent. Elegant. And absolutely unreadable.
Kanade, caught between relief and paranoia, followed a few steps behind, doing his best not to step on any landmines.
Still, he couldn't help but wonder—where was she even taking him?
He didn't have long to ponder.
Suddenly, Yukino stopped in her tracks and turned to face him with a puzzled expression, her brows slightly furrowed. "…Why are you following me? I'm going home now."
"…Eh?"
Kanade's eyes widened, his footsteps stuttering to a halt. His mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out. He stood there blinking like a confused puppy.
Uso daろ… wasn't I supposed to follow her?!
Back at the store, she'd glanced at him—glanced, with intention!—and then walked off. Naturally, any reasonable guy would assume that meant come along. And hadn't she even said, "We'll talk after I get off work"?
What the heck was this sudden plot twist?
"…"
Yukino let out a quiet sigh, as if resigned to dealing with an especially dense classmate. "…Well, since you've already followed me all the way here," she said in her usual calm tone, "you might as well come up. I have something to give you."
Kanade blinked. "Eh…? Really? I mean—sure, okay!"
Then he noticed her walking a bit stiffly and tilted his head. "Ah, wait. Want me to help you up the stairs? Your ankle's still not fully healed, right?"
He hadn't just been zoning out on the way here—he'd noticed her gait, the small limps, the subtle pauses. Yukino might act like everything was fine, but she wasn't at 100% yet. And despite her usual pride, Kanade couldn't help but worry.
"…"
Yukino stopped and turned to him, staring silently for a beat. Her expression didn't change, but somehow, he could feel the Ice Queen's frosty pressure begin to rise.
Still, Kanade pressed on.
"Yosh… I'll help. I mean, it's the least I can do—"
"There's an elevator," she cut in with her usual cool tone. "No need to overexert yourself with unnecessary gestures."
Zaa—n.
Kanade nearly choked on his own words. "Ah… sō desu ka…?"
That was cold. Too cold. He was just trying to be nice!
Still, she didn't seem like she wanted to keep the banter going. Yukino simply turned and motioned for him to follow.
"…Hai hai," Kanade muttered under his breath, trailing behind her with a half-defeated sigh.
The elevator ride up was quiet, but Kanade used the time to glance around and soak in the surroundings. Yukino's apartment complex was a step—or several—above his. It had a sleek, modern look, and from the polished tile floors to the automated security system, it was pretty clear this place wasn't cheap.
Of course, he thought. Yukinoshita comes from money. This kind of place totally suits her.
But then a thought hit him—why was she working part-time?
Yukino had never needed to before. She wasn't the type to spend recklessly, and she always struck him as someone who managed her money with icy precision. Surely she had a generous allowance from her family, and maybe even some savings tucked away.
So why the sudden job?
Kanade's brows furrowed slightly. Was she in financial trouble? Did something happen? For someone like Yukino to start working a part-time job out of nowhere… it had to be something serious.
He wanted to ask. So badly. But knowing her, if he so much as hinted at concern, she'd dodge the question or freeze him out.
Just like always.
"We're here."
Yukino's voice snapped him back to the present as the elevator doors slid open with a soft ding. They stepped into a clean, well-lit hallway, and after a few more steps, she stopped in front of one of the doors. With a soft click, she unlocked it and stepped inside.
Kanade hesitated at the entrance, blinking.
So this was it. The home of Yukinoshita Yukino.
The second girl in his entire high school life to ever actively invite him over.
Score!
Besides Eriri, she was the only one. His visits to Senpai's place didn't count—those were more "unplanned incursions" than actual invitations.
Stepping inside, he immediately noticed how neat everything was. Her studio apartment wasn't just clean—it was deliberately arranged, like everything had a designated place and purpose. From the minimal decor to the tasteful furnishings, the whole place screamed "refined yet reserved."
It was so Yukino.
Still wordless, she knelt down by the door and gently pushed a pair of slippers toward him, her expression calm and distant as always.
In that moment, despite the chilly exterior, something about her gesture made his heart squeeze.
Elegant. Composed. Thoughtful.
Yamato Nadeshiko… ka.
Yukino might act like an ice sculpture, but there was no doubt—beneath it all, she was the kind of girl who quietly looked after others.
Even if she never said it out loud.
Kanade slowly stepped forward, slipping into the offered slippers.
"…Tadaima," he muttered without thinking.
Yukino raised an eyebrow.
"…You don't live here."
"…Right. My bad."
"They're new. No one's worn them before," Yukino said as she stood up, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
Kanade's gaze, however, lingered on the slight twitch of her brow.
He noticed it instantly—because of course he did. His attention was always locked onto her, even when he pretended it wasn't. The way she slightly shifted her weight, the tiniest wince at the edge of her expression—it was obvious to him that her foot still hadn't fully healed.
She must've been walking around all day like that, refusing help, pushing herself for no reason. Yare yare… she's way too stubborn. Kanade sighed in his mind, though his face remained composed.
"Sit in the living room for a bit. I'm going to change," Yukino said, pointing to the remote on the table. "You can watch TV, or just space out. Do whatever you want… just don't peek."
"I wouldn't peek!" Kanade snapped, offended by the accusation. "What kind of guy do you think I am!?"
Yukino paused, her icy blue eyes meeting his as she replied without hesitation, "A boy."
"…Oi."
There it was.
The ambush. The follow-up strike. She'd been waiting for that moment to land a direct hit on his pride.
And it worked.
Kanade's shoulders slumped as realization set in. Of course she was thinking about the ecchi book he'd been spotted buying earlier. That tiny detail had stuck with her—how very Yukino of her.
Okay, yes, technically he had purchased that kind of book, but that didn't mean he was some kind of window-crawling pervert!
Besides, peeking on someone while they changed wasn't just bad manners—it was a capital offense in the unwritten laws of anime protagonists!
Also… he gave her a quick side glance. Yukino's body wasn't exactly the most endowed out there, so it's not like there'd be that much to peek at, anyway.
…
Wait. Crap. Why am I even thinking about this?!
"I feel like you're thinking something rude right now," Yukino muttered, frowning faintly from the hallway.
"N-No way. Just your imagination," Kanade replied quickly, pouting a little. How scary is girls' intuition these days?!
"Don't worry. I definitely won't peek. I mean, that kind of thing only matters if someone wants you to see, right?"
Yukino raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Save your delusions for when you're asleep."
And with that, she vanished into her bedroom, leaving Kanade alone in the living room, trapped in the aftershock of her words.
"Tch. She really has a way with killing the mood…"
He sat down slowly on the plush sofa, sinking into the unfamiliar comfort. The apartment was quieter than he expected—cozy, minimalistic, but undeniably feminine. The kind of place that could only belong to someone with both refined tastes and an aversion to clutter.
Despite Yukino's offer, Kanade didn't reach for the remote. He didn't feel right just flipping through channels like he owned the place. This was Yukinoshita's private domain, after all. He should at least try to act like a proper guest.
But time ticked on.
And on.
And… still no Yukino.
"Seriously… what's taking her so long?" Kanade muttered, slumping slightly.
He wasn't trying to be impatient, but come on—changing clothes shouldn't be that hard, right? For a guy, it was basically: shirt off, pants off, new stuff on. Two minutes, tops. And knowing Yukino, who valued efficiency like a religion, she shouldn't be dragging it out either.
But here he was, waiting in her living room like some kind of lost kitten, yawning from sheer boredom.
Eventually, unable to help himself, he began looking around the room.
It wasn't anything too flashy. The apartment layout was simple. But the decorations—now those were interesting. A panda-shaped cushion lay on the far end of the sofa. In the corner, two panda plushies sat upright like they were watching over the room.
Cute? Sure. A little unexpected? Maybe.
But what really caught Kanade's attention was the sheer number of cat-themed items.
There were cat figurines, cat keychains, cat-designed teacups—even the throw blanket draped over the chair had neko ears stitched into the corners.
"…This is a full-blown cat shrine," Kanade whispered, clicking his tongue.
Still, given how Yukino could carry on entire conversations with stray cats using only "meow meow meow" as dialogue, it wasn't really that surprising. In fact, it almost felt inevitable.
Truly, the title of "Cat-Noshita" was well earned.
Then, as his eyes continued to wander lazily, they landed on the apartment balcony—and stopped.
Kanade froze.
His brain registered what his eyes saw before his conscious mind could stop it.
Lace. Black.
"…Uso daろ…"
It only lasted a second.
But that was all his imagination needed to take off running like a shonen protagonist chasing after the sunset. And now, the forbidden words echoed in his mind like a cursed mantra:
Black lace.
Black lace.
BLACK LACE—
"Maybe… I saw it wrong?" Kanade muttered, trying to blink away the image.
He shifted uncomfortably and glanced toward the bedroom. The door remained closed.
Still…
"…Better verify. For science."
Glance.
Double-check.
Triple-confirmation glance.
But it was no use. The human mind was too powerful. Once the idea formed, it couldn't be erased. His brain was now working overtime, painting dangerously detailed mental images of Yukinoshita, partially dressed, framed by the golden evening light pouring in from the balcony window—
"Yamero…!" Kanade groaned, slapping his own cheek lightly. "Focus! Think of something else! Think of—math equations! Yes, quadratic formulas!"
But even as he chanted a² + b² = c², he couldn't deny the heat rising in his cheeks.
As every young man in the throes of adolescence truly understands, mere fabric on its own is meaningless—just texture and thread. But once imagination enters the mix? That cloth becomes dangerous. Volatile. The moment you catch sight of a delicate piece of lingerie, your brain fills in the blanks faster than a shonen protagonist rushing into battle.
And when said lingerie belongs to someone just a room away—someone who might have just taken it off?
Yeah. Game over, man.
"Black… and white… huh. Classy," Natsukawa Kanade murmured to himself, squinting slightly as if studying a fine piece of artwork. "This bikini's not bad either. The size though… Did she misjudge her measurements? Or maybe—" his eyes narrowed as his inner theorist awakened, "—maybe it's that mythical 'looks flat in clothes but is secretly stacked' situation…"
Before he could get further into the weeds of bust theory, a voice cut through the silence.
"…What are you saying?"
Doki.
Kanade froze.
He turned slowly, as if controlled by some ancient, cursed force, only to meet the piercing gaze of Yukinoshita Yukino. Arms crossed. Eyebrow raised. Aura of impending doom already starting to thicken around her.
"…"
Calm down. Don't panic. This isn't the worst-case scenario. It's just the girl you were fantasizing about catching you fantasizing about her. No big deal, right?
"Ah—n-nothing! I didn't say anything!" Kanade stammered, his eyes darting around the room, looking for an escape route or maybe a black hole to dive into.
He had to bluff his way through. Yes. That was the only way.
"Actually, uh, I was wondering why you were taking so long. I thought maybe you fell asleep or something, heh…"
Smooth. Totally natural. Definitely not suspicious.
Yukino, of course, remained unconvinced. She stared at him in silence. Then, with a sudden realization, she followed his earlier line of sight… straight to the balcony.
Where lace-trimmed black underwear swayed gently in the breeze.
Flutter flutter~
"…Ah." That was all Yukino said, her eyes narrowing as her cheeks ignited into a bright, brilliant pink.
She didn't even look back at him.
Without a word, she stepped forward—completely ignoring her injured foot—and stormed toward the balcony like a girl on a warpath. Watching her movements, Kanade knew the truth had been laid bare.
He'd been found out. Caught in 4K. There was no defense now.
He swallowed nervously.
Yukino gathered the evidence with ruthless precision. One swipe, two swipes—black lace, bikini, even the cat-themed panties. A total clean-up operation. No evidence left behind. FBI, eat your heart out.
She returned to her room briefly, and when she came back out, her presence felt… different. Heavier.
Like the air had chilled several degrees.
Her arms were folded, and her expression was unreadable.
Then she spoke.
"You… saw everything?"
That single question carried the weight of a thousand cold winters. If this were a pie chart of emotions, it'd be roughly: 3% embarrassment, 6% betrayal, and a whopping 91% pure, unfiltered murderous intent.
"N-no! No, I didn't—!" Kanade's voice cracked. Weak. Guilty. He could already hear the judge's gavel coming down.
"Actually…" he exhaled in surrender. "Maybe I saw… a little."
Better to confess to a misdemeanor than get charged with a felony, right?
And besides—it wasn't a full lie. For instance, he'd only glanced at the cat-themed panties before deciding cute wasn't as emotionally damaging as sexy. The lace and bold designs had naturally stolen his attention.
Yukino narrowed her eyes, her expression now that of a swordswoman right before she draws her blade.
"Then say it," she said coldly. "Tell me clearly… what exactly did you see?"
Kanade's mouth went dry. He had one shot. One chance to lighten the mood.
He took a deep breath.
"…C-cat ears," he whispered.
There. That was it. That was the safest answer. Compared to black lace and skimpy bikini tops, cat ears were just—cute. Harmless. Maybe even whimsical.
Forgive me, dignity. This wasn't about pride. It was about survival!
And as Yukino stared at him in disbelief—part fury, part speechlessness—Kanade Natsukawa prayed that he'd live to see another episode.