Machida Yuki has spent her whole life being the reliable one—the flawless manager who records every stat, the eldest daughter who runs the household while her parents work late. Giving up before hoping, staying quiet before confessing: that's how she's kept herself from getting hurt. But when the third-years retire and a cocky first-year named Naruse Sho looks her dead in the eye and says, "I like you, Yuki-san"—not once, but as many times as it takes—her carefully knotted defenses begin to fray
Cheeky Brat: The Knot of the Shoelace - The Whistle That Won't Blow
On a September morning, the gymnasium of Ryuhoku High School was bone-chillingly cold. The chill crept up through the soles of her feet from the wooden floor. Machida Yuki stood at the gym entrance, staring fixedly at the still-empty floor. The ends of her black short hair—which didn't quite reach her shoulders—swayed faintly in the breeze flowing through the open doors. Her bangs were cut in a blunt line just above her eyebrows, and her deep brown eyes, half-lidded, counted the rows of old folding chairs arranged on the stage.
Yesterday, the third-years' retirement match had ended. The eight hundred seats in the prefectural general gymnasium's spectator stands had been filled with Ryuhoku High's cheering squad. The roar of the crowd the moment Kido-senpai sank his final free throw was still stuck deep in her ears. Yuki had dragged that sound here with her again today.
She hitched the black leather manager's notebook more securely under her arm. Around her left wrist was an old wristband, passed down to her from the previous manager. The fabric was worn thin and whitish, the elastic loose—but Yuki couldn't bring herself to take it off.
She checked the timer set in the corner of the gym and opened the scorebook records. The numbers from yesterday's game filled the pages in Yuki's meticulous handwriting. Kido-senpai's points, assists, steals, turnovers. Yuki had recorded the final official match more accurately than anyone.
She opened the notebook and wrote in today's practice menu. Eighteen members. With the third-years gone, they were down to fifteen. The start of a new team. As her pen moved, Yuki traced each member's physical condition in her mind. The one who'd mentioned a twinge in his knee. The first-year who'd cramped up during yesterday's game. The backup guard with dark circles under his eyes from too many sleepless nights in a row.
At the edge of the page, she added, "Extra water." The last stroke of the character trembled, just barely. No one was watching. Yuki stopped her pen and let out a slow breath.
She hadn't been able to confess to Kido-senpai.
There was an unwritten rule that romance within the club stayed secret until graduation. Beyond that, a cowardice had taken root in Yuki: "If expecting only leads to being let down, better to give up from the start." When she'd learned that senpai was dating Hashino Rina, Yuki had smiled and said, "You two look good together." Somewhere in her heart, she'd thought saying it would make things easier.
In reality, it hadn't made anything easier at all.
Yuki closed the notebook and headed for the back of the stage. In the prefab clubroom, she checked the uniform inventory and started the washing machine. The smell of detergent spread through the cramped room. The copies of past managers' notebooks taped to the wall were warped and wavy from the humidity. Yuki pressed one of them flat with her fingertip and secured a peeling corner with cellophane tape.
"Good morning."
The club members filed into the gym in a trickle. The first-years' voices were loud; the second-years were stifling yawns, still sleepy. Yuki stood beside the entrance and quickly checked each face.
"Morning. Humidity's going up this afternoon, so drink more water than usual. Also, the gym floor's cold, so warm up thoroughly."
The members answered with "Yeees" and "Got it." Scorebook in hand, Yuki began setting up the timer.
The advisor, Igarashi Osamu, arrived late. Forty-eight years old, a former corporate-league basketball player. He shoved his hands into his tracksuit pockets and sat down on a folding chair by the wall without giving any particular instructions.
"Igarashi-sensei, is this all right for today's practice menu?"
When Yuki held out the notebook, Igarashi glanced at it and nodded.
"Yeah, I'll leave it to you."
"I'll leave it to you" was the advisor's catchphrase. Yuki said nothing and put the notebook away. She was used to being left in charge. If anything, it was easier that way.
Practice began. Yuki stood at the sideline, timing the dribbling drills, and jumped in herself whenever they were short a partner for passing drills. Her slender frame carried a thin layer of muscle across her shoulders and back, and she returned crisp chest passes. The members laughed that she was "weirdly good at passing for a manager," but Yuki's expression didn't change.
As she recorded notes in the scorebook, her gaze drifted naturally to the edge of the floor.
Naruse Sho was moving in a dimension all his own.
Light brown short hair. His casually tousled style, bangs lightly swept up, looked good even with bedhead. Tall—about five foot ten. His large amber eyes blazed every time he chased the ball. With body control that belied his status as a first-year, he blew past defenders and sank the ball through the hoop.
A cheeky brat who didn't even use polite speech with his seniors. But his dedication to basketball and his instinct for the game were the real thing. Even his teammates acknowledged Naruse's ability, if nothing else.
As Yuki wrote Naruse's shooting percentage into the scorebook, their eyes happened to meet. Naruse was staring at her from across the court.
Practice ended, and the members began cleaning up. Yuki checked the air pressure in the balls, rinsed the sweat-soaked mop, and folded the bibs for tomorrow's practice.
"Yuki-san."
A voice came from behind her. She turned to find Naruse standing there. He'd stripped off the top of his tracksuit and was in just a T-shirt. A towel hung around his neck, and he pushed his sweat-damp bangs back carelessly.
"What?"
Yuki answered without stopping her hands.
"I like you, Yuki-san."
Naruse's face was dead serious. None of his usual cheeky grin, none of his lazy attitude. His amber eyes pierced straight through her.
Yuki's hands stopped folding the bib. A moment of silence. Only the second hand of the gym clock ticked, click, click.
"...I want to focus on the club, so cut that out."
Yuki spat it out in a cold voice and started folding the bibs again. She could feel her fingertips trembling, just slightly.
"I'm not gonna stop, though."
Naruse said it breezily.
"I'll say it as many times as it takes until you like me back, Yuki-san."
"...Say whatever you want."
Yuki clicked her tongue and shoved the bibs onto the shelf. Her heart was pounding violently deep in her chest. Why did a single word from a mere underclassman have to shake her this much?
The light that had dwelled in Naruse's eyes. That light that would never, ever let go of what it wanted. Yuki knew it. It was something she didn't have. Yuki had always protected herself by giving up from the start. By not expecting anything, she'd kept herself from getting hurt.
Naruse's eyes shone as if denying that very way of living, head-on.
"Yuki-san, do you still like senpai?"
Naruse's voice echoed coldly through the gym. Yuki didn't turn around.
"...That's none of your business."
"It is my business. Because I like you, Yuki-san."
Yuki said nothing, clutched the manager's notebook, and headed for the clubroom. Naruse's gaze stabbed into her back. She fought desperately against the urge to turn around.
When she got home, the battlefield started right at the front door.
"Big sis, big bro won't let me have the game!"
"No, I was using it first!"
"Gyaaah! Hey, don't pull my hair!"
Her triplet little brothers and twin little sisters were wrestling in the hallway. Yuki set the shopping bag on the floor and heaved a deep sigh. Both parents worked, and they were always late getting home. Cooking dinner, breaking up her siblings' fights, helping with homework—all of it was Yuki's job.
"All right, that's enough. You take turns with the game. If you're going to fight, I'm confiscating it from both of you today."
The moment Yuki spoke in that low voice, her siblings fell perfectly silent. That voice of hers had absolute effect within the household.
She stood in the kitchen and put the groceries away in the fridge. She cut the meat, diced the onions. Only the sound of the knife echoed through the quiet kitchen. No one praised her. No one said "thank you." Even so, Yuki made dinner like this every day.
(Just doing the obvious things, obviously.)
She had decided to think of it that way.
The sound of onions sizzling. The smell of soy sauce. Her siblings laughing in front of the TV. Stirring the pot, Yuki suddenly remembered Naruse's words.
'I like you, Yuki-san.'
Those straight, unflinching eyes. That voice without a trace of hesitation.
Yuki stopped her hands. Still holding the cooking chopsticks, she stared at the steam rising from the pot.
(Why are you so straightforward?)
She didn't understand. The self that couldn't honestly feel happy at being told someone liked her. The self that was afraid to hope and be let down. Naruse's words mercilessly stirred the craving for approval that lay beneath Yuki's flawless mask.
Yuki gripped the chopsticks again and stirred the pot. As if desperately trying to erase her agitation.
The following night, after practice, Yuki was walking home alone. Though October was drawing near, the night breeze was still lukewarm. She walked under the streetlights wearing only the top of her club tracksuit over her clothes. With the manager's notebook and a change of clothes in the bag on her shoulder, she was checking tomorrow's weather on her phone as she walked.
"Yuki-san."
A voice came suddenly from beside her. Yuki looked up to see Naruse on a bicycle, pedaling slowly to keep pace with her.
"...What are you doing?"
"I came to pick you up. I looked up your route home."
Naruse grinned. Something about that grin was infuriating.
"Creepy. Go home."
Yuki picked up her pace. Naruse sped up too.
"Yuki-san, you carry too much on your own."
Naruse's voice rang out along the night road.
"What are you talking about?"
"Everything. The club, home, all of it. You always do everything perfectly, but you never lean on anyone, do you?"
Yuki stopped walking. Naruse stopped his bicycle too. The streetlight cast a shadow between them.
"...What would you know?"
Yuki's voice was lower than even she expected.
"I don't know. I don't know everything about you, Yuki-san. But there are things you can tell just by watching."
Naruse got off his bicycle. He stood before Yuki, and the difference in their heights stood out sharply in the darkness of the night.
"Yuki-san, are you still hung up on senpai?"
Naruse asked that question again. Yuki didn't answer. She couldn't.
"I'm not gonna wait, you know."
Naruse's voice was low, vibrating through the night air.
"No matter who you like, Yuki-san, I'm going to keep watching you properly."
With that, Naruse snatched the bag from Yuki's shoulder.
"Hey, what are you doing?"
"I'll carry your stuff. I'm walking you home."
"Don't do unnecessary things."
Yuki clicked her tongue. But she didn't have the energy to snatch the bag back. Naruse set it in the bicycle basket and started walking, pushing the bike along.
"Yuki-san, have you made dinner yet?"
"...That's none of your business."
"Even if it's not my business, I want to ask. I want to talk with you, Yuki-san."
Yuki said nothing and just walked facing forward. Naruse was beside her. The sound of the bicycle chain rang out rhythmically along the night road.
When they neared her house, Yuki stopped.
"This is fine. Give me my bag back."
Naruse held it out obediently. As Yuki took it, his fingers brushed her hand for an instant. Warm fingertips. Yuki barely stopped herself from pulling her hand away.
"Well then, see you tomorrow."
Naruse swung onto his bicycle and rode off into the night. Yuki stood under the streetlight and watched his back until it disappeared.
Something deep in her chest creaked.
The day of Kido-senpai's retirement match. After the game, Yuki had seen Kido-senpai and Hashino Rina walking side by side at the gym's back entrance. Hashino Rina had her arm linked through Kido's,
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