Yukinoshita’s Method of Correction [6]

Higashigumo Sugi opened the clubroom door—and was greeted by the sight of a girl clinging to the pole.

The same girl who had, just the day before, spoken with such haughty certainty was now gripping the pole with both hands, her body trembling as she tried to lift her feet off the ground.

The moment their eyes met, the redness in Yukinoshita Yukino’s cheeks, already there from the strain, deepened to a flushed pink like snow touched by morning light.

Thud!

Flustered, she lost her grip and landed squarely on her backside.

The frosty clarity in her eyes shattered into glittering shards.

“......”

Yukinoshita bit her lip, using the pole for support as she stood up. She smoothed her skirt with practiced indifference, then glared at Higashigumo as though daring him to laugh.

“Is it really so hard to remember to knock before entering!?”

“Pfft—”

Higashigumo burst into laughter without even trying to hide it.

Yukinoshita’s eyes sharpened, her glare nearly sharp enough to pierce through his skull.

“I insulted you yesterday. You actually had the nerve to come back... Are you a masochist, or just brainless?”

The more venomous her words, the more freely Higashigumo laughed. “Puhahaha...!”

“...Pathetic.”

Yukinoshita, fully convinced of his incorrigible nature, decided to pretend he didn’t exist. She picked up her book and moved to sit—

“...Tch—!”

She winced audibly, nearly springing back up from the chair.

“Snrk!”

Seeing her expression, Higashigumo stifled a laugh with a cough.

“Lemme see... I can massage it for you... or you could just suffer through it yourself.”

“If you can’t keep your perverted thoughts to yourself, then shut your mouth.”

Yukinoshita shot him a sidelong glance.

“Even if your eyes still ooze depravity, at least you’ll spare the rest of us from having to hear it.”

“‘Human flag’ has several variations. The most difficult is extending your body sideways from a vertical support while keeping your torso straight, like a flag caught in the wind,” Higashigumo explained, ignoring her barbs as he grabbed the still-warm pole.

“It trains the entire lateral chain—obliques, lats, serratus anterior, intercostals, hip abductors, even the outer thighs. To stabilize your body in that position, you need a spine and core like steel.”

There were two main styles: the “clutch flag,” and the “press flag.”

The clutch flag required you to hold the pole close to your chest—shorter lever, easier mechanics. The press flag demanded fully extended arms, pushing your body outward—a far more difficult feat.

Higashigumo looped his right arm behind the pole, elbow bent tight, palm rooted firmly in place.

His left hand pressed against the pole as he stepped back slightly. Using his lower elbow as a lever, he slowly lifted his legs off the floor.

Once suspended, he drew his legs in, knees bent and parallel to the ground. After stabilizing the pose, he extended them—until his body formed a straight, horizontal line.

Breath controlled, he counted silently.

Then, tucking his knees again, he spun once around the pole and landed lightly on his feet.

Yukinoshita’s gaze had, at some point, drifted away from her book and onto him. But when their eyes met, she immediately looked back down, pretending nothing had happened.

“I’ve seen people with talent,” Higashigumo said, pulling over a chair.

“The kind who can master in a day what others take months to grasp. But for that very reason, they rarely stick with anything. They think that what takes others perseverance to achieve, they can do with a bit of effort. And in the end...”

He sat and stretched out his legs. “...I discovered this chair is surprisingly comfy.”

“To correct such a rotten personality,” Yukinoshita replied with a chilly smile, “will clearly take perseverance as well. Though from the look of it, you seem eager to declare victory already.”

“It’s at least a promising start.”

Higashigumo's smile was laced with open schadenfreude. “See you tomorrow.”

The air filled with a quiet static hum—like a faulty radio—signaling the final bell.

As the synthesized melody played over the speakers, Yukinoshita shut her book with a snap, placed it carefully in her bag, cast him a sidelong glance, and walked out.

And with her gone, Higashigumo suddenly felt... the chair wasn’t quite so comfortable anymore.

But if his read on her was correct...

...

The next day, as soon as he stepped into the Service Clubroom and saw Yukinoshita, a wicked smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

She was seated, reading as usual—but this time, with a desk in front of her.

She only gave him a quick glance before looking back down, but the stiffness in her page-turning confirmed his guess.

Muscle soreness.

Given Yukinoshita’s competitive streak, she’d absolutely started training the moment she got home yesterday.

And any beginner who suddenly jumps into strength training? Guaranteed to be sore the next day.

Higashigumo set down his bag, then deliberately started doing warm-up stretches in full view of her.

Another person’s pain is the sweetest kind of honey~

As he loosened up with smug satisfaction, Yukinoshita sat stiffly, emitting an aura that clashed violently with his own. The heat of movement met the icy chill of pride—an invisible clash of fire and frost reverberating through the quiet room.

And then, breaking the tension, came a soft knock on the door.

Both of them paused. Higashigumo stopped stretching, Yukinoshita slipped in a bookmark. In perfect harmony, they both replied:

“Come in.”

Her voice like winter.
His voice like spring.

The two tones overlapped and slipped through the cracked door.

“S-Sorry for intruding...”

A girl pushed the door open just enough to squeeze through, slipping inside nervously.

Shoulder-length hair dyed a soft peach-pink, lightly curled at the ends. Part of it was tied up in a bun with a black ribbon, the rest swaying gently as she walked.

Her gaze flicked around the room. Her makeup was polished but subtle—her posture slightly tense. Three buttons on her blouse were undone, showing a hint of skin, teasing but not overdone.

When she caught sight of Higashigumo, her eyes widened. “Higashigumo-san?”

He recognized her instantly. “Yuigahama-san. Hello.”

“What are you doing here...?”

“Long story,” he said. “But I assume you came here for something more important?”

Yukinoshita, with visible effort, dragged over a chair. “Sit down.”

Even sore and stiff, she still insists on asserting her authority over the club...

Higashigumo gained a deeper appreciation of Yukinoshita’s iron will.

---

T/N: im liek the total opposite of yukinoshita

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!