Kyousuke carefully chose his words.
He could understand Hiratsuka Shizuka.
A woman who had spent years begging the heavens for marriage but never getting it—if she didn't have some self-comforting delusions.
She probably wouldn't have made it this far.
Shizuka's expression grew wary.
The hand holding her portable ashtray twitched, as if she was ready to make this cheeky brat in front of her experience what her "fists of love" felt like.
"Think about it. The toilet's seen you at your absolute worst, and it never uttered a single complaint. Do you really think that's possible?" Kyousuke asked.
"Love is about compromise," she shot back instantly.
"But… even it will have times when the pressure is too much… when it feels like it can't breathe."
Kyousuke hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should say the last part aloud.
But then he imagined a future where one of his friends introduced themselves as 'Mrs. Toilet Shizuka'.
Just the thought of people asking him what brand of toilet her husband was made him shudder.
He clenched his teeth, looked her straight in the eyes, and spat it out.
"When the pressure gets too much… it might hide it from you and secretly start leaking!"
Shizuka's eyes went wide.
The unlit cigarette in her hand was instantly crushed to bits.
"That bastard… unforgivable! You cheating, two-timing toilet!"
Her mind instantly conjured the image.
She would scrub the toilet spotless before heading off to work, only to come home and find mysterious puddles on the floor.
She'd ask if something was wrong, and the toilet would just stay silent, refusing to confess.
"You trashy toilet! Unfaithful scumbag! Tonight I'm going to march straight to that shrine and smash their offertory box to pieces!"
Kyousuke nodded, deeply satisfied.
He was already used to people wanting to marry fictional characters, but marrying a toilet?
That was pushing boundaries even he wasn't ready for.
He was relieved—but his smirk only fueled Shizuka's rage.
"What are you laughing at?! You're just as bad! You're a two-timing playboy too—just like that toilet!"
"Don't lump me in with it. I've got way better endurance. I've seen you puke all over yourself drunk more than once, and I didn't 'leak' a single word about it."
"Ughhh! This is why I hate kids!"
Shizuka shouted in frustration.
Now that she had calmed down, she realized just how ridiculous her earlier fantasies had been.
But still… even if it was delusional, that was the closest she'd ever felt to marriage.
"Tch. I thought maybe Yukinoshita would start to change under your influence. But now it looks like it's the other way around—you've become more like her. With your face covered, I'd think I was talking to Yukinoshita herself."
She sighed. But deep down, she knew she'd been naïve.
Among the Service Club members, Yamauchi Sakura and Nishimiya Shouko had bonds with Kyousuke so close that marriage wouldn't even be surprising—like it could happen in the next heartbeat.
Marriage… marriage… the word echoed in Shizuka's head, and her expression shifted.
Her eyes lit up like twin floodlights glaring "Go die!"
Why?! Why could this shameless playboy waltz into marriage at any moment, while she was still stuck here alone?!
'No, calm down, Shizuka. Stay cool. Don't let desire swallow your brain.'
Still, she couldn't help but think: Sakura and Shouko had certain qualities Yukinoshita lacked.
Shizuka sincerely hoped the girl buried under that icy snow would one day poke her head out, and feel the warmth of the sun.
But humans are terrible at noticing their own flaws.
They're far better at spotting the faults in others.
"Being around excellent people makes you excellent too"?
Yeah, right. The biggest lie ever told.
The insecure and introverted deny themselves completely, swallowing both the good and the bad.
The confident and arrogant deny others completely, treating every difference as heresy.
Yukinoshita Yukino, like her mother and sister, was a genius.
But unlike them, she also carried rationality and fairness.
Of course she could see the good in Sakura and Shouko.
She knew she wasn't as sunny as Sakura, nor as gentle as Shouko.
But that only made her double down and tell herself:
"I'm fine. I'm perfect just as I am."
Her intellect let her recognize others' strengths—but never her own shortcomings.
That's why Shizuka had never even considered asking those two girls to join the Service Club.
Because the real question was:
'What kind of person could actually make Yukinoshita Yukino change?'
The answer:
Someone just as wrong as she was.
A genius. Brilliant beyond compare.
Someone with extraordinary talent, a stubborn will, and a diseased conviction.
Yukinoshita could call him an arrogant egomaniac, and list a hundred flaws in his character.
He, in turn, could snap back that she was a pigheaded idiot, and list a thousand counters.
Two unyielding souls clashing violently—using cruel methods to accomplish the gentlest things.
Yes.
That was why Hiratsuka Shizuka had told Hojou to join the Service Club in the first place.
But now, it seemed things had gone a little too far—Kyousuke's words were getting sharper and sharper.
'Maybe I should also check on Yukinoshita later,' Hiratsuka Shizuka thought to herself.
Out loud, she suddenly declared:
"I'm not marrying a toilet anymore—pfft, I never planned on marrying a toilet in the first place!"
Wait, what am I even saying?! Is now really the time to bring that up?!
'Knock, knock—'
The sound of someone knocking at the door saved her from her own nonsense.
"Come in," she called, and the door opened to reveal Kisaki Tetta standing there.
"Kisaki? What are you doing here?" Hiratsuka asked in surprise.
"You told me to come, Hiratsuka-sensei." Kisaki's expression was calm as he walked quickly inside and sat down beside his "boss."
"O–oh, right! Of course, I remember asking you."
Hiratsuka stammered, suddenly flustered.
Damn it, it's all that brat Hojou's fault.
Talking nonstop about toilets messed up my brain!
She cleared her throat, straightened her back, and unleashed her teacherly aura.
"Ahem! Do you two even realize how dangerous what you did last night was?"
"I've already reflected deeply on my mistakes…" Kyousuke said with a serious face.
Hiratsuka nodded in satisfaction.
Good. So even after spouting nonsense about marrying toilets, my authority is still intact.
Looks like my views on love really did shock him into submission.
"…From now on, I'll try not to stay up too late. But, sensei, you should also sleep earlier. Even makeup can't cover those dark circles of yours."
Hiratsuka's eyes widened in outrage.
"I'm not wearing makeup! Wait—no! I haven't even been staying up late!"
The words had barely left her mouth before she realized she'd been tricked.
This brat! She'd checked herself in the mirror this morning—no dark circles at all.
"But sensei, you still have drool marks at the corner of your mouth. Probably from napping at your desk." Kyousuke added casually.
"Stop making things up and changing the subject! Be serious! I'm talking about what you two did last night!" Hiratsuka snapped.
"Kisaki, mirror," Kyousuke said, extending a hand.
"Yes." The ever-prepared Kisaki immediately produced a mirror from his pocket.
But Hiratsuka wasn't a veteran teacher for nothing.
Even half-asleep, she easily dodged the "demon mirror," turning her head away before catching a glimpse of herself.
She quickly wiped at the corners of her mouth, just in case.
Damn brat! He tricked me again!
Both sides of her mouth were dry.
No drool.
When she turned back, Kyousuke had already tucked the mirror away with infuriating smoothness, as if nothing had happened.
Hiratsuka forced herself to act natural and continued as though the detour never happened.
"Staying up in the middle of the night to fight with yakuza—do you think that makes you brave? Those people are society's trash. One wrong move and you could've been seriously hurt!"
Her words made both students exchange odd looks.
They hadn't known before, but after Shizuka appeared at the Yamasakura-gumi last night, Kisaki had immediately reported her "yakuza princess" background to Kyousuke.
"It wasn't as serious as you think, sensei. I just had a little chat with Mr. Doma," Kyousuke said with a smile.
"A chat? That's what you call chatting?! What's your relationship with him? Did you even know him before last night?" Hiratsuka snapped, clearly unconvinced.
"Ah, well, it was a bit rocky at first, but now we're good friends," Kyousuke replied lightly.
"Good friends?!" Hiratsuka nearly choked on her own breath.
Who taught you to make friends like that?
The cries of those Yamasakura men begging for mercy were still echoing in her head!
"And if you hadn't become friends?" she asked coldly.
"Then I'd respect natural selection."
…Her temples throbbed.
She had no idea how to handle this boy's literature teacher and biology teacher rolled into one.
Oh wait. I'm his literature teacher.
Reality hit her like a hammer, and her headache doubled.
Fine, then. Go after the simpler target.
"Kisaki, you're a student. How could you make such terrifying threats last night? Just hearing it gave me chills."
Kisaki, who had been diligently learning the art of "Kyousuke-style friendship," hadn't expected to be called out so soon.
His brows furrowed deeply, and after a moment of hesitation, he answered seriously:
"Well, I couldn't just kill them outright, could I? They hadn't actually done anything yet. Skipping straight to murder without at least trying threats first would be too cruel, don't you think, Hiratsuka-sensei?"
"...?"
Hiratsuka slowly turned her head, staring at Kisaki in disbelief. Did she hear that right?
"No, wait—that's not what I meant! I mean, why did you have to threaten them at all? Last night was your fault, wasn't it?"
But looking at the two boys' utterly confident expressions, Hiratsuka suddenly lost all confidence in her own words.
"Actually, I just wanted to be friends with Doma-san…" Kisaki added helpfully.
"Get out!!"
Hiratsuka finally gave up on talking to Kisaki altogether.