Chapter 25

Chapter 25: Why Are You So Nervous?

The corridor outside the changing room was dim and silent, untouched by sunlight.  

Standing by the door, Shimizu Sakuya let out a long exhale.  

For some reason, the moment she reached the second button, her heart had started pounding inexplicably.  

She had touched Fujiwara Yuki’s body countless times before—her pale skin, her slender waist, the perfect shape of her chest.  

If Yuki hadn’t told her to leave, she had no idea how much more awkward the atmosphere could have gotten.  

From inside the changing room, the sound of wooden geta tapping against the floor grew closer, crisp and distinct in the quiet hallway.  

With a creak, the door swung open completely.  

Yuki stepped out, now clad in a black-and-white kyudo uniform, a dark yellow wooden bow in hand.  

The pure white upper garment had short sleeves, revealing her smooth, toned arms—not thin, but defined with subtle muscle lines that hinted at her years of archery training.  

Beginners typically used bows with a draw weight of 8 to 12 kilograms, but someone like Yuki, who had practiced for years, likely used a 14-kilogram women’s training bow. Her strength was undeniable.  

The lower garment was a deep black hakama that trailed to the floor, its intricate folds wrapped tightly around her slender waist. Her hips were slightly wide, her waist almost unnaturally narrow—even with the chest protector obscuring her figure, the faint outline of her curves suggested a body that, though not yet fully mature, already held striking allure.  

She held the nearly full-length wooden bow effortlessly in her left hand, her right arm cradling a black quiver filled with arrows.  

Her long black hair cascaded freely, blending an uncharacteristic air of heroic vigor with the gentle grace of a Yamato Nadeshiko. It was mesmerizing.  

No wonder the underclassmen said Yuki looked incredibly cool when shooting.  

By the time she stepped out, her expression had returned to normal, showing no trace of earlier emotions.  

“Shall we head to the archery range now?” Sakuya asked casually.  

Yuki, her face impassive, handed the quiver to Sakuya and nodded.  

“Mm. Carry this for me.”  

Watching Yuki hold the gleaming metal quiver so effortlessly, Sakuya assumed she could handle it just as easily.  

“O-okay—whoa, it’s heavy!”  

The unexpected weight landed in her palms, and combined with her frail physique, Sakuya staggered under the load, swaying unsteadily.  

Losing her balance, she instinctively braced herself by placing a hand on Yuki’s shoulder.  

Once steady, she looked up—only to find Yuki watching her with amused interest. A bad feeling prickled at the back of Sakuya’s mind.  

“Th-thank you,” she stammered, quickly stepping back and hugging the quiver to her chest.  

“No problem.”  

Yuki’s eyebrow arched, mischief flickering in her eyes. She slung the dark yellow wooden bow around Sakuya’s neck.  

“Hold this too, and keep up with Master,” she murmured, leaning close to Sakuya’s ear, each word a quiet warning. “Fall behind, and there’ll be punishment~”  

Her lips curled, her tone teasing.  

But Yuki wasn’t done tormenting her. She exhaled softly against Sakuya’s delicate earlobe.  

The warm, feather-light touch sent an electric tingle down Sakuya’s spine, making her shiver uncontrollably.  

By the time she regained her senses, Yuki was already several meters ahead, walking at a near-jogging pace.  

But between the quiver in her arms and the bow on her back, Sakuya was lugging over 15 kilograms—more than a third of her body weight. The sheer bulk weighed her down, and as Yuki strode farther away, she had no choice but to chase after her with all her might.  

The girl in the kyudo uniform walked leisurely, a pleased smile on her face, while the girl burdened with equipment panted heavily, struggling to keep up.  

The archery range wasn’t empty—dozens of boys and girls in kyudo attire stood in focused silence, drawing and releasing arrows.  

Yuki finally stopped at the short-distance target line and took the wooden bow from Sakuya.  

Bent at the waist, hands braced on her thighs, Sakuya gasped for breath, her face pale and forehead glistening with sweat.  

“Are we… done? This is the place, right?”  

“Mm.” Yuki nodded, then flashed a sly, fox-like grin, feigning concern.  

“You’re really out of shape.”  

“Born frail, what can I do?” Sakuya forced a helpless smile, though internally she was cursing. I’m so sick of this weak body. If only I could actually exercise…  

“You have to train more,” Yuki declared before smoothly transitioning into stance. Kneeling, she plucked two arrows from the quiver at her feet, then rose with solemn grace.  

Ashibumi, Dozukuri, Yugamae, Uchiokoshi, Hikiwake, Kai, Hanare, Zanshin.  

The eight stages of kyudo flowed seamlessly, a single unbroken motion.  

The taut bowstring curved like a full moon, her breath and strength merging at their peak. With one fluid motion, she nocked and released two arrows in rapid succession—the sharp projectiles slicing through the air like shooting stars, striking the target dead center.  

Golden light flickered in Yuki’s eyes, her blunt-cut bangs fluttering in the breeze. Her expression brimmed with a confidence and boldness that rivaled any young man’s—both gallant and beautiful.  

“So?” She turned, her proud smile unwavering, looking down at Sakuya, who sat with her legs tucked neatly to the side.  

“Truly impressive,” Sakuya admitted softly.  

This was her first time seeing Yuki shoot.  

In previous timelines, Yuki had abandoned archery after founding the light music club, and later events suggested she despised it.  

But seeing her now, it seemed she still enjoyed it.  

Yuki set down the bow, her gaze burning with something akin to impatience.  

“Go check if they hit the bullseye.”  

“Okay.” Sakuya nodded, rising to her feet and walking to the target. Peering closely, she called back, “Fujiwara-san, dead center!”  

“Can’t—hear—you—! Come closer!” Yuki tilted her head, pretending to strain her ears.  

She definitely heard me. What’s she scheming now?  

Sakuya sighed but obediently retraced her steps.  

“Run here!” Yuki barked.  

Suppressing another sigh, Sakuya quickened her pace and reported to the smirking Yuki, arms crossed.  

“Both arrows hit the bullseye.”  

“Good. Now go retrieve them, Sakuya-san~”  

“……?” Sakuya stood frozen. So she’s just making me run back and forth for her amusement?  

Just as Yuki opened her mouth to prod her further, a familiar face interrupted their exchange.  

“Fujiwara-senpai, already practicing?”  

“Mm, just started.” Yuki turned, her expression instantly shifting into a bright smile.  

It was the ponytailed underclassman who had greeted them earlier. She nodded at Sakuya, curiosity gleaming in her eyes.  

“Did your friend get to see how amazing Fujiwara-senpai is?”  

Yuki shot Sakuya a sharp glance, prompting her to gush enthusiastically.  

“Y-yes! Just as everyone said—incredibly cool. I never knew Yuki had such a dashing side.”  

“Did it make you interested in kyudo?” The persistent underclassman pressed on. “I’m sure Fujiwara-senpai didn’t just bring you here to watch—she must want to show you how wonderful archery is, right?”  

Wow, talk about self-importance! Ponytail-chan, you must be really unpopular in the club. Your precious senpai’s smile is about to crack—shut up already!  

Though her inner monologue was scathing, Sakuya forced an awkward chuckle. “A… a little, yeah.”  

“That’s great! Fujiwara-senpai is so kind and patient when teaching. She could show you a thing or two, right, senpai?” The underclassman beamed at Yuki.  

“…Mm.” Yuki’s hum trailed downward, clearly reluctant.  

But in the end, she played along. “Well then, I’ll teach Sakuya a little.”  

“Perfect! Thank you, Yuki. I am very interested in kyudo.”  

Sakuya’s smile was equally fake, maintaining the act for the underclassman’s sake.  

Cornered by her admirer, Yuki had no choice but to comply.  

Maintaining appearances was crucial to her—hence the duality of her personality.  

All smiles in public, utterly merciless in private.  

Yuki moved behind Sakuya, pressing so close their bodies nearly melded together.  

Holding the bow in one hand, she guided Sakuya’s fingers to the grip with her other, her voice soft and instructive.  

“Ashibumi—first, spread your feet.” Her legs slid between Sakuya’s, forcing them apart to shoulder-width like an invasive intruder.  

“Dozukuri—stabilize your upper body.” Her other hand settled on Sakuya’s waist, steadying her.  

The moment that hand touched her, Sakuya’s entire body stiffened—as if it wasn’t the bowstring being drawn taut, but her own rigid muscles.  

She’s way too close! And in front of an underclassman! This is so embarrassing!  

If she turned her head even slightly, her lips might brush Yuki’s flawless cheek.  

Then, a whisper, warm and teasing, grazed her ear.  

“Why are you so nervous?”  

Sakuya’s mind blanked. In her flustered daze, she caught a glimpse of Yuki’s delicate earlobe—tinged with the faintest shade of pink.