Yukinoshita’s Method of Correction [1] & Synopsis

Having returned to his youth, Higashigumo Sugi discovered that the many worries that once tormented him... were laughably trivial in hindsight.

After being ground down by the brutal machinery of society, he could now navigate the trials of high school life with ease—
Except for one thing...

"The capable have a duty to aid the unfortunate."
Yukinoshita Yukino’s gaze was as cold as frost, fixed sharply on Higashigumo Sugi.
"I will correct your flaws. Welcome to the Service Club."

And so, it began.

—Many years later—

"Seeing you dressed like this has given me a whole new idea for your correction."
Yukinoshita Yukino, now effortlessly tying his necktie, spoke with practiced ease.
"So... come home early, okay?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The phone rang.

Still half-asleep, Higashigumo Sugi squinted and groped for his phone on the nightstand, picking it up and answering.

“Yo?” He rubbed his eyes and yawned. “Higashigumo speaking.”

“Higashigumo-san,” a woman’s voice came through the speaker, calm but sharp. “Did you forget something important?”

Still groggy from sleep, Higashigumo was a little disoriented. “Such as?”

“Such as the fact that you’re a student and haven’t shown up to class in ages!” The woman’s voice flared with anger.

“Where are you right now?”

Sitting up in bed, Higashigumo looked around. “Let me think...”

“Hmm?” The woman beside him handed him a can of Coke. “Who is it?”

“My homeroom teacher,” Higashigumo glanced at the caller ID, then at the languid woman next to him. “Where are we again?”

“This is...” she rattled off the address casually. “How did I even fall asleep?”

Higashigumo took a long swig of Coke. “Probably just too tired. When’s your husband coming back?”

She checked the time. “Should be soon.”

“Then I’d better—” He was just about to get out of bed when a flurry of loud knocks interrupted him.

“Sorry, Hiratsuka-sensei, something urgent came up here. I’ll come to class if I get the chance—talk later!” he said quickly, hanging up the call.

---

Chiba Municipal Sōbu High School, Japanese Language Teacher—Hiratsuka Shizuka stood frozen with her phone in hand, face darkening.

When she’d first agreed to look after Higashigumo Sugi, she hadn’t thought much of it.

After all, her friend had described him as a bright, helpful student with top grades and a heart of gold.

What she didn’t expect... was that Higashigumo really was that bright.

He kept his grades well above average—even without attending class.

What she also didn’t expect... was just how “helpful” he could be.

Skipping class to do good deeds had basically become his lifestyle.

Right after the school year started, he got hit by a car while saving someone. After a short recovery, he returned to school for a few days—only to get stabbed twice while chasing down a thief. Then, just out of the hospital, he hurt himself at the gym shielding someone from a falling barbell. After that, he got into a brawl stopping a group of delinquents from extorting a kid.

And now...

Now he was helping a lonely housewife whose husband wasn’t even home.

And got tired from helping her?!

Thinking back to the address she’d just heard, and that frantic knocking in the background, Hiratsuka let out a long sigh—and slammed her foot on the gas.

...

Her sports car tore through the city, and as she approached the neighborhood, a blood-curdling scream rang out from nearby.

“I’M GONNA KILL YOU!!!”

Rolling down her window to locate the source of the shout, Hiratsuka saw a figure hurl itself out of a second-floor window of a detached house. The man, wrapped in nothing but a pink bath towel, hit the lawn and rolled before springing to his feet.

“Calm down!” Higashigumo clutched the towel around him tightly and shouted up at the furious face poking out from the window. “You love your wife, I love your wife—we’re kindred spirits, man!”

Hiratsuka: “...?”

That’s the line you’re going with? And you sound so self-righteous about it?!

“GO TO HELL!” the man roared, trying to leap out the window himself, only to be yanked back by his wife in a panic.

Higashigumo spotted the red sports car and his face lit up as if salvation had arrived. He bolted for it and dove in through the open window.

“Sensei! You’re a lifesaver! Step on it, let’s go!”

“You little brat...” Hiratsuka wanted to scold him, but one look at his face and her anger ebbed.

Disheveled black hair, casually swept back—a face that other people’s wives would risk their marriages for. That was the kind of look he had. Combined with those perpetually smiling eyes and the lean musculature earned from frequent workouts...

Whizz—!

Higashigumo suddenly reached out the window, snatching a spinning knife out of the air with one hand.

Only then did Hiratsuka snap back to her senses, slamming the gas and speeding away from the scene.

“Ah... sorry you had to see that.” Higashigumo scratched at his messy hair, toying with the blade in his hand. “Didn’t think her husband would be so impulsive. I thought I’d have time to explain.”

“Explain?” Once she’d driven far enough, Hiratsuka pulled over and turned to glare at him. “You think this is something you can explain?”

Higashigumo blinked. “I mean, I believe that people can understand each other, deep down...”

“Well I don’t understand what the hell you just did!” Hiratsuka shot a glance at the knife in his hand, her anger mounting again. Her shirt stretched taut with every breath, a testament to the limits of modern fabric.

“That knife wasn’t even going to hit us! Why’d you reach out and catch it like that?!”

“Uh...” Higashigumo pointed at her red car. “This is your beloved ride, right? If the paint got scratched by the knife, wouldn’t you be upset?”

“What if you got hurt?”

Higashigumo tapped the flat of the blade with his finger. With a flick, the knife began spinning around his fingertip.

“That level of an attack? I can handle it easily. No ‘what ifs’ about it.”

“Haaaah—” Hiratsuka pulled a pack of Seven Stars from her pocket, flicked out a cigarette, and lit it with a hundred-yen lighter. After a deep drag, she cracked the window to let out the smoke.

“Forget the knife for now. You and that woman...”

She ran a hand through her hair in frustration. “I get that young guys are bursting with hormones and all, but what the hell were you thinking?”

“Sensei, if you had the chance to go back to your youth,” Higashigumo set the knife down, “what would you do?”

“Fall...” The single, unmarried Hiratsuka Shizuka looked away from him. “Fall in love, I guess.”

“Spending your happiest and freest years on the one thing most likely to break your heart,” Higashigumo raised an eyebrow, “you really think that’s a good idea?”

“Isn’t it?”

“To relive youth is to enjoy it. Eat what you want, drink what you want, play how you want—indulge yourself.” He looked out the window, the easy smile in his eyes giving way to something deeper, more wistful.

“That way, even if I die from overwork one day, at least my life’s flashback reel won’t be filled with regret.”

“Living like every day could be your last... like studying with the sense that an exam is always tomorrow,” Hiratsuka said quietly.

“Is that your philosophy?”

“Sharp as ever, sensei.” Higashigumo turned to her again, the melancholy in his gaze melting back into a familiar, warm grin.

“You put it better than I ever could.”

“Can’t you just have a normal relationship for once?”

He laughed softly. “My youth romantic comedy doesn’t need love.”

“So instead you go help other people’s wives?”

“Time’s about up,” Higashigumo checked the clock. “Mind driving me back? I left my clothes and phone at her place.”

“You still want to go back?” Hiratsuka shot a glance at the knife blade. “Aren’t you afraid her husband’ll actually kill you?”

“Kill me?” Higashigumo looked out the window again. “He should be thanking me.”

Hiratsuka pressed her lips together. As if that’s even remotely believable...

---

T/N: hohohohoho

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!