Yukinoshita’s Method of Correction [21]

Yukinoshita Yukino was reading, as always.

Higashigumo Sugi was working out, as usual.

A peaceful, almost timeless atmosphere pervaded the Service Club room.

No matter how different Higashigumo Sugi and Yukinoshita Yukino’s motives might be, the Service Club was, at its core, a place that accepted students’ concerns and tried to help them resolve their problems.

But from the blur of Higashigumo’s own memories, he knew high school was a sensitive, vulnerable time. For teenagers at that stage to open up and actively seek help from others—that was never easy.

Especially if the “others” in question were their classmates.

Perhaps for that very reason, the existence of the Service Club wasn’t made public.

But Hiratsuka-sensei would still send people their way.

That way, the club always had someone to help—and the clients’ privacy was protected.

High schoolers always had their own troubles, but not every problem was dire enough to warrant outside help.

So, although Yuigahama Yui’s worries had been successfully resolved before—and the outcome was a happy one for everyone—the number of Service Club requests hadn’t gone up.

Most of the time, Yukinoshita Yukino read. Higashigumo Sugi trained.

The two of them would either sit in silence, or else take turns correcting each other, toe to toe.

One could even say it was… harmonious.

You think I’m hopeless. I think you’re afflicted. Isn’t that, in its own way, a form of like-mindedness?

Still, things had started to change lately.

“You—” Yuigahama Yui’s voice came from the hallway. “What are you doing here?”

“Wahhh!!” A startled cry followed.

Then came Yuigahama Yui’s own shriek.

By the time Yukinoshita Yukino calmly placed a bookmark in her book and looked toward the door, Higashigumo Sugi was already up, pulling the door open.

Yuigahama Yui was pressed flat against the corridor wall, looking panicked as she stared at another boy sprawled on the floor.

The slightly chubby boy was bundled up in a heavy coat, his hands—half-gloved—planted on the ground as he struggled to push himself upright.

Higashigumo searched his memory. “Zaimokuza?”

“Oh ho! So you finally speak the name seared into my soul?” The boy pushed up his glasses, puffed out his chest, and held his head high. “Indeed, I am none other than the swordmaster general—Zaimokuza Yoshiteru!”

Now Yuigahama Yui looked at Higashigumo with visible alarm.

“Anyway,” Higashigumo said, stepping aside, “come in first.”

“When I got here, I saw him skulking around by the door,” Yuigahama whispered anxiously to Yukinoshita. “I just asked what he was doing and he jumped like he’d been electrocuted—”

“Higashigumo-kun.” Yukinoshita Yukino cut to the heart of the matter. “Do you know him?”

“Zaimokuza Yoshiteru. My classmate,” Higashigumo replied succinctly, glancing at Zaimokuza, who sat stiffly in a chair as though being interrogated. “Is there something troubling you that you need help with?”

Classmate or not, Higashigumo had barely attended any classes. That was about all he knew about Zaimokuza.

Even remembering his name was an accomplishment.

“Hmph…” Zaimokuza clasped his hands behind his back. “Save your little tricks—I’ll say nothing!”

Higashigumo: “…?”

“Even if you ambush me, capturing my body, you’ll never break my will!” Zaimokuza laughed loudly. “My sacred sword will never be sullied! When the time comes—”

“Ambush?!” Yuigahama looked utterly confused. “Me?”

“You don’t even know what you’ve done?” Zaimokuza sighed deeply. “Another lost soul. I forgive you. Don’t let your past mistakes hold you back—stride forth into a new—”

“I get it now,” Higashigumo interjected. “He’s probably talking about how you startled him just now.”

“Then why use such weird—oh!” Yuigahama’s eyes lit up with sudden realization. “This is that chuunibyou thing, right?”

Zaimokuza flinched, visibly.

Higashigumo realized she’d nailed it.

“Chuunibyou?” Yukinoshita turned to Yuigahama, puzzled. “Is that an illness?”

“I’m not totally sure, either,” Yuigahama admitted, lowering her voice. “A friend told me about it. Her little brother’s in his second year of junior high and acts like this.”

‘A friend of mine…’ These days, whenever Yukinoshita heard someone use that phrase, she instinctively thought of Higashigumo.

“It’s when someone’s obsessed with powers from anime, manga, games, or light novels—so they pretend they have special abilities, too.” Yuigahama recalled her friend’s complaints. “Stuff like… having an evil force sealed in their right leg…”

Shouldn’t that be the right hand? Higashigumo thought.

“Or mysterious powers that haven’t awakened yet…”

She means ‘awakening’, right?

“Or blood vessels carrying a curse…”

Probably meant ‘bloodline’…

“To make it all ‘make sense’, they add in stuff like being a reincarnated hero, chosen by the gods, or a secret agent. Then they actually act according to those backstories,” Yuigahama sighed, recalling her friend’s exasperation. “They’ll even write up regular mission reports, build the strongest robot out of clothespins, turn rubber bands and tinfoil into self-defense weapons, and cosplay with their dad’s coat and their mom’s fake fur scarf…”

“I see,” Yukinoshita summarized. “So this second-year high schooler is just like those junior high kids, acting out his own made-up stories.”

“Yeah, that’s about it,” Yuigahama said, a little surprised at how quickly Yukinoshita had caught on.

Yukinoshita pressed her lips together. “This is bad.”

Yuigahama blinked. “What’s bad?”

The Service Club is in trouble.

Yukinoshita’s gaze shifted meaningfully.

Yuigahama followed her line of sight—to Higashigumo.

Higashigumo had set his foot on a chair, slapped his right hand to his thigh, and, fingers joined as if forming a sword, pointed dramatically at Zaimokuza Yoshiteru. “Oh-ho! Swordmaster General! You really won’t talk?”

Zaimokuza, who had been slowly curling into himself under Yuigahama’s explanation, suddenly lit up, face full of resolve. “Never!”

Higashigumo leaned forward slightly, voice dropping. “Truly not a word?”

Zaimokuza threw his head back and laughed. “Not a word!”

“What a hero!” Higashigumo swept his hand grandly. “So be it! I won’t press you further. Out of respect for your spirit, I’ll let you go free!”

“You’ll let me go?”

“A man of valor like you shouldn’t fall here,” Higashigumo said, bowing with a flourish. “Until green hills remain and rivers keep flowing.”

Zaimokuza returned the bow with grave sincerity. “If fate allows, we’ll meet again.”

Higashigumo gestured magnanimously toward the door. “After you.”

Zaimokuza turned on his heel and strode out. “Farewell!”

Higashigumo closed the door behind him with a casual flick. “Done.”

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This is a fan translation of 雪之下的矫正方式 by 微凉温热 All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!