Yukinoshita’s Method of Correction [3]

“So that’s why the name Service Club popped into my head—it was you who mentioned it to me,” Hiratsuka Shizuka said as the polished floor echoed beneath her heels.

“Well, this works out,” she added, her voice casual but purposeful. “The club’s officially registered, and all the paperwork’s handled. You just need to join.”

Walking beside her was a girl in the school uniform, her long black hair swaying with every step. A crimson ribbon tied in her hair fluttered like a butterfly dancing in the wind.

“‘The capable have a duty to aid the unfortunate’—that was your phrase, sensei. It’s the founding principle of the Service Club. So there’s no need to feel guilty about using my idea,” the girl said in a cool, composed voice. Her icy-blue eyes gave off an aura so chilling it felt tangible.

“The more people who believe in that ideal, the better the world becomes.”

“Exactly. That’s the spirit.”

Hiratsuka, no longer avoiding her gaze in guilt, turned to face the school’s most beautiful student with a mix of pride and resignation.

Second-Year Class J: Yukinoshita Yukino.

Sōbu High had nine standard classes and one International Culture Class—Class 2-J—primarily made up of returnees from abroad and students preparing to study overseas.

And within that already exceptional class, Yukinoshita Yukino was exceptional still.

Top grades—always first in her year, both in formal exams and practice tests.

Flawless looks—translucent skin, refined features, graceful figure, straight black hair that cascaded past her shoulders, and a face so beautiful it bordered on unfair.

As for her personality...

“The prerequisite is that he understands the purpose of the Service Club and its activities,” Yukinoshita said, her voice nearly devoid of inflection.

“If he lacks that awareness, then the student currently conducting ‘club activities’ inside the clubroom... will be my first client.”

“You don’t need to worry about him,” Hiratsuka said, stopping in front of the clubroom door. “He really does enjoy help—”

Her sentence cut off abruptly.

Her eyes widened as they landed on a metal pole—no, a pole—erected in the middle of the classroom.

And hanging from it... the flag of the Service Club: Higashigumo Sugi.

He had both hands wrapped around the pole, legs held stiff and horizontal, body perfectly parallel to the floor, gently swaying like a human banner.

“...ing others,” Hiratsuka finished weakly.

Noticing the two newcomers, Higashigumo drew his knees in, spun once around the pole, and landed lightly on his feet.

“Good afternoon, sensei... Yukinoshita-san?”

He blinked, recognition dawning. “We finally got a request, huh? Just a second.”

With that, he headed to the makeshift changing area in the corner of the room, curtained off from view, to swap out his sweat-soaked training shirt.

Only now did Hiratsuka notice how much the room had changed. The steel pole and changing booth aside, the piles of junk that once filled the space had mostly vanished. The rest had been rearranged into some odd hybrid of a gym and a rock climbing facility in the back.

“It’s only been a few days...” Hiratsuka massaged her forehead. “And he’s already turned the clubroom into this.”

“Club members are permitted to decorate their rooms within reason,” Yukinoshita said, her gaze shifting sideways.

“But sensei, please knock next time.”

“You’re already talking like the club president...” Hiratsuka muttered, then raised her voice.

“Hey, are you done changing yet?”

“All set.”

Higashigumo tugged at the white gloves on his hands and placed one hand over his chest.

“Welcome to the Service Club. It’s my pleasure to serve you.”

The fitted black tailcoat stretched over his broad shoulders and narrowed dramatically at the waist. Paired with his tall posture and composed smile, the look was startlingly convincing—as if he were a professional butler straight out of a luxury estate.

Wait—no, that’s not the point!

Hiratsuka snapped back to herself, exhaling in exasperation.

“What’s with the outfit?”

“‘To do a good job, one must first sharpen one’s tools,’” Higashigumo replied.

“I have a friend who works as a house steward for a British diplomat. He helped me get this made—fits pretty well, doesn’t it?”

“It does fit well... but that’s kind of the whole point of tailoring. No, wait, that’s not what I meant!” Hiratsuka caught herself before being led astray again.

“I’m asking why you’re dressed like this.”

“For the service activities, obviously,” Higashigumo said as if it were obvious.

“The word service instantly brings to mind maids and butlers, right? So I thought I’d put some extra effort into the outfit.”

“You really thought this through, huh...” Hiratsuka could feel a vein starting to throb on her temple.

“Why not just get a maid outfit while you’re at it?”

“I did.”

Higashigumo pulled a maid costume out of the changing booth.

“Just didn’t have the nerve to wear it out here.”

Hiratsuka: ...So you did try it on in private, didn’t you?

No—wait!

She had lost count of how many times she’d had to remind herself not to get sidetracked.

More importantly—

“Higashigumo-san,” Yukinoshita said, her voice flat and frosty as she stared at him like he was something filthy, “what exactly do you think the Service Club is?”

“A club,” Higashigumo replied simply.

Here we go...

Like a referee announcing the start of a match, Hiratsuka stepped back and silently gave the floor to them.

“‘The capable have a duty to help the unfortunate.’ To lift people out of their struggles, to teach them how to solve their own problems—this is what service means. ‘Service,’ written as 侍奉, read as ‘volunteerism,’ practiced as altruism,” Yukinoshita said, lifting her pale chin slightly.

“Extending a hand to those in need—that is the true purpose of the Service Club.”

Her eyes, as sharp as icicles, pierced straight through Higashigumo. As she narrowed her gaze, the chill intensified.

“Not superficial roleplay in cosplay outfits.”

To be fair, Yukinoshita Yukino’s presence could be quite imposing—at least for a high schooler.

But for Higashigumo, who had endured years of working life, what truly unnerved him were those calm, impassive types. The ones who’d say things like:

“I can’t help you, but I’ll make sure not to get in your way.”
“I don’t set your salary, but I can affect it.”
“This isn’t punishment—it’s for your personal growth.”

“So it’s about the heart of service?”

Looking down at the maid outfit in his hands, Higashigumo seemed to reflect on his shortcomings.

“I see. So even the shame I feel should be channeled into the joy of helping others... Give me another minute.”

“You hold it right there!” Yukinoshita snapped, frowning.

“It’s not about what you wear. The issue is that your understanding of our activities is painfully shallow.”

Higashigumo raised an eyebrow. “And why do you think that?”

Yukinoshita answered evenly, “Because of what you’re wearing.”

“I was just about to change.”

“If you haven’t grasped the true meaning of this club, it doesn’t matter how many outfits you swap in.”

She placed a pale hand over her chest.

“But that’s fine. I’ll correct your misunderstanding—”

“Welcome to my Service Club.”

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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!