Hiratsuka Shizuka was the homeroom teacher for Class 1-F. More than just a teacher, she was their life guide.
She taught classical Japanese literature. By any measure, she was a stunningly beautiful women, with a figure that could easily be described as an upgraded version of Yukinoshita.
The fact that she drove a sleek, imported sports car to school each day hinted at considerable family wealth, making her something of a hidden heiress.
Yet, for all her perfection, she was still single at twenty-six.
Perhaps she was too accomplished. Or perhaps—though she would never admit it—her tendency toward a blunt, almost brutish personality and her love of bad puns had something to do with it.
Being friends with Yukinoshita Haruno and possessing a genuine, if well-hidden, concern for her students, Shizuka had agreed to Haruno's request to look after her younger sister, Yukino.
It was Shizuka who had used a bit of her "persuasive power" to secure a dedicated room for the girl, allowing for the creation of the Service Club. A place where students could come for help.
—
That afternoon, a piece of campus gossip had reached Shizuka's ears: during P.E., Yukinoshita Yukino had engaged in a serious tennis match against a girl from another class called Kawasaki Saki.
The news baffled her. Yukinoshita Yukino, participating in a voluntary, semi-public athletic event? It was unheard of.
Had Kawasaki issued a challenge? Or, against all odds, had the aloof Yukino somehow made a friend?
Driven by a mix of professional duty and burning curiosity, Shizuka decided to investigate.
She arrived at the door to the Service Clubroom, her hand already moving to shove it open as was her habit. But she froze, her fingers inches from the wooden handle. Muffled voices came from within.
'There's someone else in there?'
Intrigued, she leaned closer, listening.
Yukino's voice, cool and clear, was unmistakable. The other voice—breathy and strained—belonged to a boy.
"Masao-kun," Yukino said, her tone laced with icy disappointment. "This is unacceptable. So weak and limp. Stand up properly, now."
"I'm... I'm dying here...," the boy gasped, his voice thick with exhaustion. "Yukinoshita-san, I'm begging you... just a short break..."
A soft, humorless laugh came.
"A break? You have the audacity to ask for a break? Weren't you quite pleased with yourself earlier, scheming to make me play that exhausting game for an entire period?"
"I admit it! It was a mistake! Please, have mercy!"
"Mercy is granted," she replied smoothly. "Once your physical stamina is completely depleted, I will consider the matter settled."
—
Hiratsuka Shizuka pressed her ear against the door, the conversation becoming a fragmented murmur. The snippets she caught sent her imagination into overdrive. She couldn't listen any longer.
This was a sacred school clubroom, not a place for... whatever this was! And the most galling part? She was still single!
How could Yukinoshita, of all people, be leading such an interesting after-school life?
Abandoning all subtlety, she threw the door open with a force that made the frame shudder.
"What in the world is going on in here?" she bellowed.
But the scene that greeted her was nothing like what she had envisioned. It was, if anything, even more perplexing.
In the middle of the room, a somewhat overweight boy was holding a strained half-squat, a classroom chair held aloft in each of his trembling hands.
Yukinoshita Yukino sat primly at her desk, observing his struggle with a faint, unnerving smile.
"What... are you two doing?" Shizuka's angry roar deflated into confusion.
Yukino turned a cool gaze toward the interruption, a slight frown creasing her brow.
"Hiratsuka-sensei. Must I remind you yet again to knock?"
"Never mind that right now," Shizuka retorted, effortlessly sidestepping the criticism. She jabbed a finger toward the suffering boy.
"Explain this to me. Now."
"Is it not self-evident?" Yukino replied, her calmness a stark contrast to the teacher's flustered energy.
"Self-evident?" Shizuka's eyes darted from the boy's pained expression to Yukino's placid face.
A theory, informed by her own romantic frustrations, began to form.
"Is this... some kind of punishment game?" she asked, her tone implying a meaning far more scandalous than the words suggested.
Yukino shot her a look of disdain.
"Hiratsuka-sensei, I'm truly disappointed. To let your mind wander to such places... has your prolonged single life begun to affect your professional judgment?"
The word "single" struck with the force of a physical blow. Shizuka felt a vein throb in her forehead. It took all her willpower not to drive her fist into the nearest wall.
"Then enlighten me," she said through gritted teeth.
"It is simply the core activity of the Service Club." Yukino stated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I have accepted a request from Masao-kun. I am currently assisting him with a weight-loss regimen."
"A weight-loss request?" The explanation was so mundane it was almost disappointing. Yet, it fit. She looked at the boy, her curiosity piqued.
"So, you're the client? What's your name and class?"
Seeing a potential ally in the teacher, Masao began to lower his arms.
The chairs hadn't dropped an inch before Yukino's voice sliced through the air.
"I did not give you permission to rest, Masao-kun."
His arms snapped back to their trembling position.
"T-Tanaka Masao! Class 1-D, sensei!" he wheezed.
"Class 1-D..."
The class number clicked into place. Combined with Yukino's unusually severe attitude and the boy's guilt, Shizuka connected the dots.
A mischievous grin spread across her face.
"Don't tell me... you're the one who set up that tennis match this afternoon?"
Masao glanced despairingly at Yukino.
'How does everyone figure it out so easily?!'
With no escape in sight, he could only manage a miserable nod.
Hiratsuka Shizuka's expression shifted to one of pure delight. She let out a hearty, booming laugh and strode over, clapping Masao on the shoulder with enough force to make him wobble.
"Masao, was it? You've got guts, kid! Scheming against Yukino... you're a brave soul!"
The impact was the final straw for Masao's weary muscles. His arms gave out, and the chairs clattered to the floor as he followed, collapsing in a heap.
Yukinoshita observed the scene with icy disapproval.
"Hiratsuka-sensei. You are disrupting his training."
"Ah, right, right. My apologies," Shizuka said, not sounding sorry at all.
She dragged a chair over, sat down, and crossed her legs, making herself comfortable.
"But as the faculty advisor for this club, I believe I have every right to observe its activities."
Yukino offered a noncommittal shrug.
"As you wish." She then turned her attention back to the prostrated form on the floor.
"Very well. You may take a one-minute break. Then we resume."
The words were a pardon from the executioner. Masao lay on the cool floor, breathing like a man who had just cheated death.
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