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 - A Year and a Half of Silence — Kido-senpai and the Words Left Unspoken
The first Monday of October, Rikuhoku High School was bracing for midterms, and the basketball club's activities had entered a temporary hiatus. The gymnasium after school held no sign of anyone—only a thin layer of dust on the wooden floor, glittering and swirling in the afternoon light slanting through the windows. Machida Yuki sat on a folding chair beside the stage and watched the scene for a long while, perfectly still.
The afternoons without club activities were far quieter than usual, and the ticking of the clock's second hand sounded absurdly loud. Yuki traced her fingertip along the black leather cover of the manager's notebook resting on her knees. The corners had gone round and soft, and countless fine scratches ran across the spine. It was a notebook she had opened nearly every day for two and a half years.
(Midterms, huh.)
Yuki let out a small breath. Her studying wasn't going well. At home, triplet younger brothers and twin younger sisters waited for her—dinner to prepare, fights to mediate, baths to supervise. The list of things to do was endless. Time for herself only arrived late at night, and even that sliver she always ended up spending on preparations for tomorrow.
She opened the notebook. The last recorded practice menu, and notes on each member's physical condition. Beside Naruse's name was written: "Mild tension in right ankle. Watch for accumulated fatigue." The moment she saw those words, her fingertip stopped dead.
(That phone call that night.)
The call from Kido-senpai—Yuki still hadn't sorted out how she felt about it. "There's something I want to talk about." That gentle voice echoed over and over deep in her ears. Yuki held her pen tip against the edge of the page and couldn't move.
In the spring of a year and a half ago, Yuki had just become manager. When she first joined, she hadn't known left from right—she couldn't even fill out a scorebook properly. And the first person to reach out to her was Kido-senpai.
"Machida, a scorebook isn't just about writing down numbers. You write from the perspective of someone watching—what condition that player is in right now, what they should do next."
Back then, Kido-senpai was still a second-year and the team's vice-captain. During practice and after, he arrived at the gym before anyone else and stayed later than anyone else. Yuki had watched that back from the sidelines, always.
He was kind, took good care of people, and everyone looked up to him. Whenever Yuki got stuck on how to write her records, Kido would invariably come sit beside her and teach her carefully. Each time, something deep in her chest grew warm.
(It didn't take long to fall for him.)
Yuki erased the name "Kido" she'd written in the corner of the notebook. Eraser crumbs scattered white across the black leather. It was a motion she'd repeated countless times. Write, erase. Write, erase. The corner of the page had grown slightly thin from the repetition.
The unwritten rule was that romance within the club stayed secret until graduation. But what bound Yuki even more tightly was her own cowardice. If she confessed and was rejected—if things fell apart and she couldn't stay in the club anymore—just thinking about it, she couldn't take a single step forward.
Better to give up from the start than to hope and be betrayed.
That was how Yuki had always protected herself. Her feelings for Kido-senpai, too, went unspoken—pressed deep into her chest—and a year and a half slipped by.
She still remembered the day of the retirement match in September with perfect clarity. Behind the prefectural sports center, she'd seen Kido-senpai and Hashino Rina walking side by side. Hashino Rina had her hand looped through Kido's arm, laughing happily. Kido, too, was smiling with a softness Yuki had never seen on his face before.
In that moment, Yuki pretended to feel nothing. She smiled and murmured in her heart, "You two look good together." She thought that would make it a little easier.
But it didn't.
After she got home, Yuki cried alone in her room where no one could notice. She stifled her voice, buried her face in her pillow, and cried until the tears ran dry. The next morning, her face in the mirror was slightly swollen. Yuki washed with cold water, put on her usual poker face, and left the house.
No one noticed.
That was the end of Yuki's year-and-a-half-long love.
Yuki closed the notebook and stood. Outside the gym windows, the October sky was high and clear. The sweet scent of osmanthus drifted in through the open door.
When she got home, today was a battlefield again.
"Big sis, I don't get my homework!"
"Who hid my game?!"
"Waaah! I spilled the milk!"
Yuki kicked off her shoes and pulled on her apron, glancing at the state of the living room. Half-eaten bags of snacks on the table, blocks scattered across the floor, the twin sisters arguing on the sofa. The TV blared an anime at full volume, and the washing machine had been left running.
"All right, quiet down. I'll help with homework later. Clean up your games before you look for them. And wipe up the milk yourself."
At Yuki's low voice, her siblings fell silent instantly. She quickly started on dinner. She took vegetables from the fridge and chopped them on the cutting board. Only the sound of the knife echoed rhythmically through the kitchen.
(No one praises me. No one says thank you.)
Yuki thought about that as she minced the onions. But that was fine, she told herself. Her job was to keep this house running. To take care of her siblings. Just doing the obvious things, obviously.
She finished dinner, fed her siblings, bathed them, checked their homework, made them brush their teeth, and put them to bed. By the time everything was done, it was past eleven at night.
Yuki returned to her room and sat at her desk. She spread out her textbooks and notebooks. One week until midterms. Her grades weren't bad, but she'd barely had any time to study.
(I have to do at least a little.)
She picked up her pen and started on a long English reading passage. But other things kept surfacing in her mind.
Kido-senpai's voice. "There's something I want to talk about."
Hashino Rina's smile. The way her hand looped through Kido's arm.
And Naruse's words. "I'm not giving up."
Yuki set down her pen. She couldn't concentrate. Outside the window, the streetlights illuminated the narrow road. For a moment, she pictured Naruse riding his bicycle down that road.
(Why am I even thinking about him?)
Yuki clicked her tongue softly and turned back to her textbook.
The next night, too, Yuki was buried in housework and studying. After putting her siblings to bed, she started the washing machine and realized she'd forgotten to bring in the laundry.
(Damn. I meant to hang it out this morning.)
She stepped toward the balcony and stopped. There was a pile of laundry that had been hanging since the night before—T-shirts, towels, her siblings' socks—left carelessly draped over the pole, swaying in the night breeze.
Yuki let out a deep sigh. Just as she reached for the balcony window to bring the laundry in—
"Yuki-san."
A voice came from below. Yuki looked down. Beneath the streetlight stood Naruse, straddling his bicycle.
"...What are you doing?"
Yuki said in a low voice.
"Just passing through. I've been riding by your house a lot lately."
Naruse grinned. His short, light-brown hair swayed softly in the streetlight. His amber eyes glinted in the darkness.
"Creepy. Go home."
"I'm not going home. Yuki-san, your laundry's still hanging out, isn't it? The night dew will make it damp."
Naruse got off his bicycle and put his hand on the wall of Yuki's house.
"That's none of your business. Don't just come onto my property."
"I'm not coming onto anything. But Yuki-san, are you really going to bring all that in now? You're exhausted."
Naruse's voice carried through the quiet of the night. Yuki placed her hands on the balcony railing and looked down at him.
"How would you know whether I'm exhausted?"
"I can tell. You've got dark circles under your eyes. Today was another rough one with your brothers and sisters, wasn't it."
Yuki had no comeback. Naruse was staring up at her face. His gaze held its usual cheeky glint, but there was something earnest in it too.
"Yuki-san, you don't have to carry everything by yourself."
Naruse said quietly.
"...What are you talking about?"
"Everything. The club, home, all of it. You always try to do everything alone, don't you? Never relying on anyone. Watching that—it pisses me off."
"I don't recall giving you any right to be pissed off at me."
Yuki said coldly.
"Fair enough. But I'm just getting pissed off on my own, so you don't have to worry about it."
Naruse shrugged lightly. Then, keeping his hand on the wall, he looked up at her and said:
"Yuki-san, are you still hung up on senpai?"
At those words, Yuki's body stiffened slightly.
"...Not really."
She answered, feigning indifference.
"The club seniors told me. That you liked Kido-senpai for a year and a half. That after the retirement match, when you found out he was dating Hashino-san, you were really torn up about it."
Naruse's voice was flat. But his eyes pierced straight through her.
"...The seniors are just saying whatever they want. It has nothing to do with me."
"Hmm."
Naruse replied shortly. Then he smiled, defiant.
"Well, I'm not going to wait, though."
The night wind blew, stirring Yuki's bangs.
"No matter who you like, Yuki-san, I'm watching you properly. Just don't forget that."
Naruse's voice was low, vibrating through the night air. Yuki couldn't say anything. The force of his persistence crept against her skin, slow and relentless.
"...Go home. You have school tomorrow."
That was all Yuki managed to say.
"You're one to talk—get some proper sleep. And if you're bringing the laundry in now, I'll help."
"Don't need it. Go home."
"You're so cold."
Naruse laughed. His canine tooth flashed white in the streetlight.
"See you tomorrow, then."
Naruse mounted his bicycle and rode off into the night. Yuki watched his retreating figure from the balcony, motionless. Her heart was pounding violently deep in her chest.
(Why is he the only one who shakes me up like this?)
Yuki brought the laundry in and went back inside. As she folded it, Naruse's words replayed in her head.
"I'm not going to wait, though."
"No matter who you like, Yuki-san, I'm watching you properly."
Yuki put the folded towels in the cupboard and sat at her desk. She opened the manager's notebook. Picked up her pen.
(What am I trying to write?)
She touched the pen tip to the last page of the notebook.
She started to write "Kido"—and stopped.
(No. I can't write that.)
Yuki erased the half-formed characters. Eraser crumbs scattered white across the desk.
(It's over. It's already over.)
Yuki closed the notebook and took a deep breath. Outside the window, autumn insects were singing. The sound seemed absurdly loud.
The next night, after putting her siblings to bed, Yuki was studying in her room. The clock had passed ten. She opened her English vocabulary book and silently memorized words.
Then her phone buzzed.
She picked it up and looked at the screen.
Kido-senpai.
Her heart leaped. Her fingertips trembled. Yuki took a deep breath, then pressed the call button.
"...Hello?"
"Yuki? It's been a while. How are you doing?"
Kido-senpai's voice came through the receiver. Gentle, calm—the voice Yuki had secretly loved for a year and a half.
"I'm fine. How about you, senpai? How's university?"
Yuki answered, pretending composure. Desperately keeping her voice from shaking.
"Ah, well, I'm managing somehow. Anyway, Yuki—there's something I want to talk about."
Kido-senpai's voice turned serious.
"...Something you want to talk about?"
"Yeah. Hashino and I broke up."
The words stabbed deep into Yuki's ears.
"...I see."
Yuki managed, barely, to respond. Her mind went blank. He broke up with
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