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 - Foul Words — The Impatient Ace and the First Honest Feeling I Wrote
The air in the gymnasium clung to the skin, thick and damp.
The first Saturday of November. On Court Two of the Prefectural General Gymnasium, the practice game between Ryokuhoku High and Misuzu High had reached the final two minutes of the third quarter. The spectator seats were sparse, dotted here and there with figures who looked like parents. The squeak of shoes against the floor, the bounce of the ball, the referee's whistle—all of it echoed off the high ceiling, carrying a restless heat.
Machida Yuki sat upright on the bench at courtside, her scorebook open on her knees. The pen in her right hand moved across the page without hesitation. Ryokuhoku's offense, Misuzu's defense, substitution timing, foul counts. She recorded everything, but her eyes were fixed on a single point on the court.
Naruse Sho was running a fast break.
The first-year ace wore number seven. He tore across the court on long legs, weaving between defenders to receive the pass. Two Misuzu players planted themselves in front of him. Naruse didn't hesitate. He feinted right, then cut left. The sound of his shoes against the floor grew sharper.
*He can make it.*
Yuki lifted her eyes from the scorebook.
Naruse drove toward the basket. He gathered the ball to his chest and launched. His tall frame floated upward, arm reaching for the rim. Misuzu's center jumped to block. Fingertips grazed the edge of the ball.
Naruse twisted his body and pushed the ball in with one hand.
The ball sank through the hoop and rippled the net.
—And then it happened.
The instant he landed, the angle at which his right foot caught the floor shifted, just slightly. The ankle bearing his weight buckled inward with a sickening twist.
A dull thud echoed through the gymnasium.
Naruse's body crumpled to the floor. The ball rolled away. The referee's whistle shrieked.
"Naruse-kun!"
Ichii Ayaka, who had been working the timer at the end of the bench, cried out—almost a scream. She was the second-year manager, a junior. Her pale hair was tied back in a single bundle, and her face, usually bright and cheerful, had gone white as she shot to her feet.
Yuki was already running.
The scorebook slid from her knees. Her pen clattered to the floor. None of it registered in her vision anymore.
*It's fine, it's fine, it's fine.*
She repeated the words silently. With every step of her sneakers against the floor, her heart pounded like a warning bell. From the bench onto the court. To Naruse, crumpled on the ground. A distance of mere meters felt impossibly long.
"Naruse."
Yuki dropped to her knees beside him.
Naruse was clutching his right ankle, teeth gritted. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his breathing shallow. The usual cocky grin was nowhere to be found.
"...Yuki-san."
Naruse forced the words out.
"Don't move. Let me see your foot."
Yuki's voice was astonishingly calm. The manager in her was moving her mouth on its own. Her heart was still hammering, but her fingertips were steady.
She placed her hand gently on Naruse's right ankle. No swelling yet. But she could feel the heat radiating from it. He might have damaged a ligament. Yuki rapidly assembled the first-aid procedure in her mind.
"I'm going to ice it. Ichii, ice and a towel. And get the taping supplies ready."
"Y-yes!"
Ichii ran off. Yuki glanced at her retreating back, then turned back to Naruse.
Naruse's shoelace had come loose from the impact of the landing.
Yuki reached for the lace.
*I need to retie it.*
*Otherwise, his ankle won't be stable.*
Her fingers picked up the white lace. She pulled it tight—damp with sweat. Right, left, cross, loop.
And then, the words spilled from her lips.
"It's all right if we lose—just make that one shot count."
For a moment, Yuki didn't understand what she had just said.
The words had left her lips before her mind could catch up. Something buried deep in her heart had overflowed on its own, ahead of conscious thought.
Naruse's shoulder twitched.
His face, twisted with pain, turned slowly toward Yuki. Beneath the sweat-plastered bangs, his eyes were wide open.
"...Yuki-san."
His voice was trembling.
"That's not fair."
Naruse laughed, even as his face contorted with pain.
The usual smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. But deep in his eyes, there was nothing but seriousness.
"Not fair? What is?"
Yuki finished tying the lace and looked up.
"Because you're crying, Yuki-san."
Yuki touched her own cheek.
Her fingertips came away wet.
*What?*
*I'm crying?*
She blinked. Her vision blurred. Heat pooled behind her eyes. Her throat tightened with a sharp, squeezing pain.
She hadn't even noticed.
The tears were falling, silent and steady.
"...Why?"
Yuki forced the word out.
"Why am I the one crying? You're the one who hurt his ankle."
"Because you're crying over me, Yuki-san."
Naruse was still smiling. His face was twisted with pain, but his voice was impossibly gentle.
"I'm happy. It means you really see me, Yuki-san."
Yuki bit her lip.
*No.*
*I'm just—as the manager—*
*When a player gets hurt, of course I worry. That's all.*
*That's all it is.*
She repeated the excuses in her mind, over and over. But the tears wouldn't stop.
"...Anyway, get to the bench. Can you stand?"
Yuki wiped her tears with the back of her hand and took Naruse's arm.
"If you lend me your shoulder, I can stand."
"Don't get cocky."
Yuki draped Naruse's arm over her shoulder and rose slowly. His weight pressed down on her small frame. Heavy. But she didn't let go.
The two of them made their way slowly to the bench.
On the court, the game was about to resume. The Misuzu players were watching with worried expressions. Among them, one tall player stood staring intently at Yuki and Naruse.
Hakamada Shizuka. Misuzu High's second-year ace.
Raised at an all-boys school, he was awkward around girls. He looked like he wanted to say something to Yuki, but in the end, he couldn't manage a word and returned to the court.
Yuki seated Naruse on the bench and took the ice pack Ichii brought over.
"Thanks. Ichii, take care of the timer."
"Yes."
Ichii looked at Yuki as though she wanted to say something, but returned to the timer without a word.
Yuki pressed the ice pack against Naruse's right ankle.
Cold. Her fingertips went numb from the chill. But she didn't move the pack. She held it firmly against his ankle.
"...Yuki-san."
Naruse spoke quietly.
"What?"
Yuki didn't take her eyes off his ankle.
"I can't wait."
His voice was quiet.
"I'm a lot more spiteful than you think, Yuki-san."
Yuki's fingers stopped on the ice pack.
"...What are you trying to say?"
"You want me to wait until the season's over—that's your stance, right? But I can't wait. Just seeing you talk to another guy pisses me off. Just hearing you pick up a call from Kido-senpai makes me feel like I'm losing my mind. Just thinking about you smiling at someone I don't know—it tears me up inside."
Naruse spoke evenly, staring straight ahead.
"I like you, Yuki-san. I like you so much I don't know what to do with myself. But my feelings aren't just pretty ones. I don't want to give you to anyone. I seriously think it'd be fine if every part of you belonged to me and no one else. ...Does that gross you out?"
Yuki couldn't say anything.
The hand holding the ice pack trembled faintly.
*Grossed out?*
*There's no way.*
*Because I feel the same.*
Yuki parted her lips.
"...Then—"
Her voice came out hoarse.
"Then what do you want me to do?"
For the first time, Yuki asked him back.
Naruse looked at her.
From beneath his sweat-soaked bangs, his direct gaze pierced through her.
"Until you really see me, Yuki-san, I'll say it as many times as it takes. I like you. I like you, Yuki-san."
His expression was dead serious.
Even in pain, even clutching his ankle, his voice didn't waver at all.
Yuki moved the ice pack slowly against his ankle.
Cold water dripped between her fingers.
*What do I want?*
*What do I want from Naruse?*
The answer still wouldn't come.
But Yuki's fingertips were far calmer than before.
In the end, Ryokuhoku lost by four points.
The gap left by Naruse's absence was large, and Misuzu's Hakamada scored repeatedly in the final stretch. Yuki closed the scorebook, replaying the last play in her mind.
*If Naruse had been there—*
*It would've been different.*
*But there's no use thinking about what isn't there.*
Yuki began clearing the bench. Ichii approached, folding towels.
"Yuki-senpai, are you all right?"
Ichii's voice was still a little stiff.
"I'm fine. More importantly, you handled the timer perfectly. That was a big help."
Yuki said it while looking Ichii in the eye.
Ichii's face softened, just a little.
"...Thank you."
With that, she went back to folding towels.
Yuki glanced at Ichii's profile.
*This girl likes Naruse.*
*She kissed him.*
*But right now, she's trying to do her job as manager properly.*
A small ache pricked at Yuki's chest.
*Should I say something to Ichii?*
*There's no way I can.*
*I haven't even sorted out my own feelings yet.*
Yuki exhaled deeply.
Outside the gymnasium, the sun was beginning to set.
That night.
Yuki stood in the kitchen at home.
Her triplet little brothers were raising a ruckus in the living room. Her twin little sisters were crying over a toy dispute. The TV, the laughter, the crying—a battlefield of noise filled the house.
Yuki finished cleaning up after dinner, bathed her brothers, made her sisters brush their teeth, and finally got everyone to bed.
The clock had passed eleven.
Yuki returned to her room and sat at her desk.
She pulled the manager's notebook from the drawer.
Black leather cover. A record she had kept for two and a half years. Practice menus, players' physical condition, game reflections, goals for the next match. Neat handwriting filled the ruled lines, dense and precise.
Yuki opened the notebook to the last page.
Blank white paper.
She picked up her pen.
Her hand was shaking.
*Should I write it?*
*Am I allowed to?*
*If I write this, I won't be able to run anymore.*
Yuki pressed the pen tip to the paper.
The first character.
*I*
The second.
*'m*
Then a pause.
Yuki spun out the words, slowly.
*I don't dislike Naruse. Probably more than that.*
When she finished, Yuki stared at the notebook.
The writing wasn't shaking.
Straight, clean characters.
Yuki looked at her own hand.
Not trembling.
*Ah.*
*I did it.*
*I wrote it—without running away from my own feelings.*
Something settled deep in Yuki's chest.
It made no sound.
But something had definitely changed.
Yuki closed the notebook.
She ran her fingertips gently over the black leather cover.
*Tomorrow, I'll tell Naruse.*
*Wait until the season is over.*
*And then, after that—*
Yuki looked out the window.
In the November night sky, the stars glittered coldly.
The next day.
Yuki arrived at the gymnasium thirty minutes earlier than usual.
The morning gym was chilly, and the smell of the wooden floor was stronger than usual. Yuki opened the windows to let in fresh air, checked the air pressure in the balls, and set out the drink bottles for hydration.
Before long, the players began to gather.
Naruse appeared with his right ankle taped, leaning on a crutch.
"Yuki-san, morning."
He dragged his injured foot along, but called out in his usual tone.
"Morning. Your foot hurts, doesn't it? Don't push yourself—just observe today."
Yuki said it while lining up the drink bottles.
"I hate observing. I want to be on the court."
"Don't be selfish. What if something happens with an injured player standing on the court?"
"As long as you worry about me, Yuki-san, I'm good."
Yuki set a drink bottle down a little roughly.
"...Naruse."
She stood directly in front of him.
"Wait until the season is over."
Her voice was quiet.
But her eyes looked straight at Naruse.
He blinked in surprise for a moment, then grinned.
"Can't
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