All Beautiful Girls Want to Stick with Me

When Yui Yuigahama said she had something to give her, Kotomi Izumi couldn’t help but tease:

”Is it a love letter?”

That pitch-perfect straight ball hit Yui right in the heart. Her adorable face turned visibly red, and she stomped her foot shyly before saying:

”It’s a dessert you like, okay!”

Blushing furiously, Yui rushed into the kitchen, her ears burning. She hadn’t expected Kotomi to blurt something like that, and her heart was pounding like crazy.

As she picked up the dessert she had prepared, she muttered quietly:

”I don’t even know how to write a love letter... Kotomi, geez. I was planning to confess directly, but what should I even say? I have no idea. And what if she says no? Will we even be able to stay friends after that...? Ugh...”

Yui’s cheeks grew hotter as she thought about her feelings for Kotomi. Though she had the courage to act, she had no idea how to begin. Her mind was tense and restless, like a spring being wound tighter and tighter—until that inevitable snap.

She hadn’t realized it yet, but the snap was close.

Kotomi’s letter had made her so happy. And it had given her strength.

She took a deep breath, buried her thoughts, and returned to the front of the shop holding the dessert.

”What’s in here?”

Kotomi asked curiously, peeking at the box. It wasn’t too big, and she figured she could finish it in one sitting.

”In your letter, you said that out of all the desserts in the world, only the ones I make match your taste perfectly. That made me so happy. So I decided to make a dessert I came up with myself!”

Yui held out the box with both hands.

Kotomi eagerly reached for it, wanting to open it right away and take a bite, but Yui pulled it back just before she could grab it.

”You have to promise to wait until you get home before opening it!”

”Eh? I can’t look now?”

Kotomi asked, clearly disappointed. Yui’s words had piqued her interest, and now her curiosity was itching.

”No peeking!”

Yui shook her head firmly. Her blushing cheeks and serious tone made Kotomi start to wonder if Yui had put something strange in the dessert. (Kidding. Probably.)

”Oh, and this is for your parents.”

After handing Kotomi the dessert, Yui suddenly remembered the second gift she had prepared.

She’d heard Akina casually mention something during their last visit to the shop. That comment stuck with Yui, and she decided to act on it.

Another gift for my parents? Kotomi was surprised. Had both Iroha and Yui met her parents while she was gone in Kyoto? No way, right?

Why did they both seem like they were showing up with gifts for the in-laws?

Wait, no. I’m not anyone’s girlfriend!

Tch, tch, tch—she must’ve misspoken in her head. That’s all.

Anyway, she was definitely the one on top, right? At least 80% on the dominant side!

Someone is stubborn. Not naming names.

”You brought something for my mom and dad? You’re way too polite. What is it?”

Yui Yuigahama took out two pairs of gloves and two scarves.

Uh...

Kotomi was momentarily speechless and instinctively reached into the right pocket of her coat, where she had stashed the gloves Iroha Isshiki had prepared for Kaneyoshi Izumi and Akina Izumi.

”These scarves are new items from a store this year. I felt the colors really suited your parents, so I bought them. I’m not very good at choosing gifts for winter, so this was the best I could think of. Originally, I wanted to buy two more pairs of gloves, but I ran out of money... so I knitted these two myself. Please don’t mind if they’re not perfect...”

Yui Yuigahama’s voice grew quieter with every word. She had never paid much attention to it before, but ever since Kaneyoshi and Akina visited the Dango Cake Shop, she began to realize just how vast the gap between her family and Kotomi’s really was.

If she and Kotomi were to become lovers one day, the phrase that would haunt her most was ”equally matched.”

Despite how modest the Izumi family usually appeared, and how Kotomi never came across as a wealthy heiress in school or everyday life, Yui had assumed their family situations weren’t too different.

That changed the day she caught a glimpse of Kaneyoshi’s Rolex—partially hidden under his sleeve while paying at the counter. And Akina’s necklace... Yui had once seen it on TV during a live broadcast of an international auction in Venice. It had been purchased by an anonymous Japanese buyer for three hundred million U.S. dollars.

At the time, Yui had been watching that auction while eating cold leftover noodles and pickled radish for dinner. Seeing someone spend three hundred million dollars on a necklace, she’d bitterly chuckled, thinking she might not earn even one hundred million yen in her lifetime, let alone in U.S. dollars.

The sheer difference in their backgrounds left her feeling small and unworthy.

As she knitted the gloves, Yui struggled with conflicting emotions. She wanted to give a heartfelt gift but feared it might be dismissed.

Now, as she spoke, her voice kept fading and her head instinctively lowered.

The kind of self-consciousness that stems from family background hits hardest during adolescence.

Kotomi had been reaching out to take the gloves and scarves, hesitating—not because she disliked them, but because she was amazed. These gloves were handmade? That was impressive. She couldn’t even thread a needle, and Yui was already knitting gloves?

Still, a dilemma now loomed.

With these two added, Kotomi had four pairs of gloves for her parents.

What now?

Oh well. She’d figure it out later.

Kotomi took the items from Yui’s hands and, noticing the expression on Yui’s face, let out a soft sigh.

”Now I’m sad. You got gloves and scarves for my mom and dad... but what about me? I want a pair of gloves you knitted too!”

Kotomi huffed in mock anger. Her words, though seemingly unreasonable, made Yui Yuigahama’s eyes light up with joy.

Yui had originally been worried that Kotomi would dislike the gift she had prepared for Kotomi’s parents. While she had full confidence in the craftsmanship of the gloves she knitted, she wasn’t sure Kotomi would accept them.

After all, most gloves these days were store-bought. Knitting a pair by hand for someone had nearly become a forgotten act, buried in the river of time. Receiving a pair of handmade gloves from someone else might, at best, come off as confusing—if not outright odd.

Before she revealed the gift, Yui had mentally prepared herself for the possibility that Kotomi wouldn’t like them—or even be annoyed.

But to her surprise, Kotomi hadn’t said anything negative. In fact, she’d even jokingly pouted, asking why Yui hadn’t knitted a pair for her.

Like a jealous girlfriend. Yui nearly burst out laughing.

And in that reaction, Yui saw her answer: Kotomi wasn’t just okay with the gift—she was hinting that she wanted some for herself.

”I’m sorry! I only got the idea to knit gloves for Mr. and Mrs. Izumi a few days ago. I’ve been staying up late these past few nights to get them done. If you really want a pair, I’ll knit some for you tonight, okay?”

Four gloves, two pairs, each from a different girl.

Bringing them home and placing them in front of her parents—telling them how they came to be—might mean Kotomi wouldn’t survive the night.

Her parents were sharp. The moment they learned both Iroha Isshiki and Yui Yuigahama had given gloves, it wouldn’t take them long to piece things together. If they misunderstood and thought Kotomi was being a player... she could expect a righteous double beatdown.

Still, hearing that Yui had stayed up all night knitting them, Kotomi couldn’t help but ask:

”You stayed up to knit? How long did that take?”

”About two days. I had school during the day, so I could only knit until 3 a.m. most nights. I decided to skip school yesterday, so I stayed up a bit later and knitted until 4 a.m. before sleeping.”

Yui’s tone now sounded exactly like someone exhausted—like she was slumped in front of a computer, mumbling a complicated sentence just to say something and get it over with.

Right now, if you asked Yui what she wanted most in the world, it would be to fall asleep in Kotomi’s arms.

Kotomi looked at the faint dark circles under Yui’s eyes, feeling a pang of guilt. She reached out and gently patted Yui’s head—though it ended up more like how you’d pet a puppy.

”You’re not allowed to stay up late knitting anymore, got it?”

After finishing her head pat, Kotomi’s tone turned a little stern.

Yui nodded seriously, looking adorably obedient.

Kotomi placed the gloves Yui made into the left pocket of her coat, keeping them separated from the others.

As for the scarves—her coat pockets might be large, but they weren’t bottomless. There was no way she could fit scarves in there. If she tried, her pocket would probably run away in protest.

So she asked Yui for an extra fabric pouch and carefully folded both scarves before placing them inside.

”Make sure you don’t open them until you’re home, okay?”

Yui reminded her once more as Kotomi stood at the door, ready to leave.

”Okay, okay, I promise I’ll be good,” Kotomi replied with a smile, even mimicking a robotic voice, which made Yui laugh despite herself.

After promising they’d definitely see each other tomorrow, Kotomi turned and left, dragging her suitcase with one hand. On top of it was a dessert box, its contents still unknown, as she made her way home.

Almost home, Kotomi turned into a small alley and took out the gloves that Yui Yuigahama and Iroha Isshiki had given her. Two pairs lovingly hand-knit by Yui. Two pairs bought by Iroha after making a special trip to Tokyo.

Looking at the four pairs of gloves, Kotomi let out a long sigh before placing them into the same left-and-right coat pocket arrangement as before. Then she dragged her suitcase and headed into the house.

After enjoying a hearty meal at a restaurant in Tokyo, Chihiro Sengoku first drove Mashiro Shiina home and then drove Hibiki Naegi to Chiba City. The reason she didn’t mind the extra hassle was simple: she had to return to school for the final period of the day, which she was in charge of.

While Kotomi and the others got the afternoon off for their achievements, Chihiro—despite being the key player in their success—got no such break.

Even driving to Tokyo Station that morning had required submitting a leave request.

”Once I drop you off, it’s straight back to school for me. Sigh... it’s satisfying to be busy, but I’d rather not be busy because of overtime.”

On the road, Chihiro had already lost count of how many times she complained. Any mention of going back to school that afternoon, and she could rant the entire evening.

Hibiki had no choice but to play the attentive listener, nodding and chiming in with the occasional ”mhmm,” tossing in a few compliments and a round of applause when appropriate.

After passing yet another traffic light, they officially left Tokyo’s city limits and entered the expressway toward Chiba.

Maybe because she had to focus while driving on the expressway, Chihiro didn’t continue her rant. But she probably could’ve kept going even while multitasking.

Who at Sobu High School hates overtime the most?

Unquestionably, Chihiro Sengoku.

”During your three days in Kyoto, did you have any takeaways or reflections? I’m not asking you to write an 800-word essay or anything, but since you saw so many selected artists from all over Japan at the first-round exhibition, I’m sure you were inspired by their works. Want to share a bit?”

”Reflections, huh... I have a lot of them. But to be honest, they hit me so hard I almost got flattened on the beach. After seeing Kotomi and Mashiro’s paintings, I started to waver. That night, I couldn’t sleep—I kept tossing and turning, thinking about a lot of things. In the end, I decided I’ll keep learning, but I won’t push myself as hard as I used to.”

Hearing this from Hibiki left Chihiro genuinely surprised. After all, Hibiki had always been the stubborn type—believing that hard work could make up for lack of talent, often exhausting herself in the process.

Chihiro joked around a bit more with her, steering the conversation away from the painting competition. As they finally approached Chiba City, Chihiro slowed the car and said:

”Hibiki, Kirigiri is your younger sister, right?”

”Of course.”

”I see... Have you two been having a fight recently? The midterms are the day after tomorrow, but she’s been arriving late, leaving early, and even skipped her homework yesterday.”

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