All Beautiful Girls Want to Stick with Me

The air fell silent once again, but Yukino Yukinoshita’s heart could not become calm.

And the ”culprit” behind her restless heart was Kotomi Izumi, who, despite having her girlfriend sleeping right beside her, could still hold another girl in her arms so calmly.

For a moment, Yukino Yukinoshita did not know whether Kotomi Izumi was a careless playgirl when it came to relationships, or simply thick-skinned.

If possible, Yukino Yukinoshita would rather believe it was the latter, because Kotomi truly did not seem like the type to toy with people’s feelings.

Should she just ask directly: Kotomi, are you a playgirl?

Yukino Yukinoshita could not help but mock this thought in her heart. Leaving aside whether she even had the courage to ask, even if she did, Kotomi would never answer something like that, right?

At least for now, Yukino Yukinoshita preferred to think that Kotomi simply lacked a sense of distance with other girls. Why did she think so?

Because even if Kotomi was not her girlfriend, Yukino Yukinoshita still did not want Kotomi to be someone who played with girls’ emotions.

After pulling Yukino Yukinoshita into her arms, Kotomi Izumi did not immediately say what she wanted to say. Instead, she turned over slightly and first poked Yui Yuigahama, who was sleeping soundly beside her, with her finger.

Poke.

No response.

It seemed Yui was truly sleeping deeply.

Although Yui was sleeping soundly now, Kotomi still did not dare to make any big movements.

Because whenever Yui slept with her, she always liked to grab onto something on Kotomi’s body. For example, she might hold onto one of Kotomi’s fingers while sleeping, or like now, grip a corner of Kotomi’s clothes.

As for the other places Yui liked to grab, there was no need to go into detail.

In short, if Kotomi made any large movements, she might wake Yui up.

While Kotomi Izumi remained silent, Yukino Yukinoshita stayed quietly in her embrace, neither urging her to speak nor asking questions.

Rather, Yukino secretly hoped that Kotomi would speak later... because that meant she could remain in Kotomi’s arms a little longer.

If possible, she wished they could stay like this forever, spending the entire night just like this...

”Yukino...”

Kotomi Izumi finally spoke. Although Yukino Yukinoshita had been eagerly anticipating what Kotomi might say, after gradually growing attached to the warmth of her embrace, she now wished Kotomi would delay speaking just a little longer.

Hearing Kotomi speak, Yukino instead let out a silent sigh.

It was not that she did not want to know what Kotomi wanted to say. Rather, in Yukino’s view, once Kotomi finished speaking, she would have to leave Kotomi’s arms, wouldn’t she?

Yukino Yukinoshita did not want to leave. Yet she had no right to say, ”I want to stay in your arms forever.”

Because she was not Kotomi’s girlfriend. And Kotomi’s real girlfriend—Yui Yuigahama—was currently sleeping beside her, her steady breathing faintly audible.

Sleeping so peacefully... it must be because Kotomi was beside her. What kind of happy dream might Yui be having right now?

If Yui woke up the next second and saw Kotomi and me holding each other like this, she probably wouldn’t forgive me... Yukino Yukinoshita thought with a bitter smile.

Yukino knew this clearly. Yet as she gradually grew addicted to Kotomi’s embrace, the earlier thought of escaping from it had already faded away like smoke after firewood burned—dense at first, but eventually dispersing into nothingness.

The thought of escaping had long since vanished. Right now, Yukino Yukinoshita only wanted to remain like this forever, indulging in Kotomi’s arms, even if Yui saw them when she woke up.

The right hand that held the crystal sphere labeled ”friendship” seemed to tremble more and more, as if at any moment the sphere might slip from her palm and shatter into countless fragments upon the ground.

Kotomi Izumi still had no idea what Yukino Yukinoshita was thinking. After calling her name and receiving no reply, she continued speaking:

”After you told me you wanted to participate in the piano competition again, there was actually something I didn’t say at the time. It wasn’t that it wasn’t appropriate to say then. Originally, after touching the corner of your lips, I planned to keep talking, but Yui saw us hugging like that, so I had to shift my attention to explaining things to her. After that, I forgot about it. I only just remembered now.”

After finishing, Kotomi Izumi gave an embarrassed little laugh.

Yukino Yukinoshita froze when she heard this. She had thought Kotomi might confess to her, but it turned out that what Kotomi wanted to say was simply something left unfinished from before. A layer of disappointment quietly settled over her heart.

While feeling that disappointment, she mocked herself internally:

’Kotomi confessing to me right now’—that was just a childish fantasy born from my own misunderstanding of the atmosphere. No matter how you think about it, she already has a girlfriend. How could she possibly confess to me? Kotomi isn’t the type to cheat. I’m almost impressed by how I managed to misread the situation so badly and imagine she was about to confess... I’m truly hopelessly foolish.

Yukino Yukinoshita was already sharp-tongued by nature, and when she mocked herself, she was even harsher.

Every time she criticized herself internally, she showed no mercy. Each word felt like a sharp blade, as if she were not insulting herself but someone she deeply despised.

In truth, that was not far from reality. Ever since realizing that her earlier cowardice and timidity had prevented her from confessing sooner—allowing Kotomi to become Yui’s girlfriend—Yukino Yukinoshita had grown to hate her own weakness.

If she could kill off one part of her personality, she felt she would choose to destroy that cowardly side with the cruelest method imaginable.

After finishing her internal self-criticism, Yukino Yukinoshita lifted her head and sighed softly.

”I spent quite a while thinking about what you were going to say next, imagining several possibilities. I just didn’t expect all my guesses to be wrong. I don’t know whether I’m foolish, or if your way of thinking is simply beyond me.”

”I think it’s both,” Kotomi Izumi said seriously.

Yukino Yukinoshita nodded reflexively. Whenever they discussed things, Kotomi—who usually appeared a bit airheaded—often said things that surprisingly made sense. But she quickly realized something was off and reached out to pinch Kotomi’s cheek.

”Are you calling me stupid?”

”You were the one who proposed that hypothesis just now...” Kotomi Izumi mumbled, her cheek still being pinched.

Yukino Yukinoshita said nothing, simply continuing to pinch Kotomi’s cheek lightly, as though indulging herself.

Kotomi calling her stupid did not bother Yukino at all. If possible, she even wanted to hear Kotomi call her ”little dummy” in person. Of course, she would never admit such a thought to herself right now. She was simply using this as an excuse to pinch Kotomi’s soft cheek to her heart’s content.

Yukino Yukinoshita had wanted to pinch Kotomi’s cheek for a long time but had never found a suitable reason. Now that she finally had one, she was certainly not going to let go easily.

Strangely enough, perhaps it could be described as mutual attraction—Kotomi Izumi had always felt that teasing Yukino until her expression turned icy cold was incredibly satisfying.

What Kotomi did not know was that Yukino Yukinoshita often imagined teasing Kotomi until she looked pitiful and on the verge of tears. That feeling, she believed, would be incredibly satisfying too!

...

Yukino Yukinoshita did not know how long she had been pinching Kotomi’s cheeks before she finally felt satisfied and let go.

After releasing her hand, Yukino savored the feeling for a moment, then complained with feigned helplessness:

”We’ve gone a bit off topic while talking. Go on, what was it you wanted to say to me earlier but didn’t?”

”It wasn’t anything special. I just wanted to say that it’s really great that you’ve regained your motivation.”

”Rather than motivation, it’s more like... during the cultural festival rehearsals, I realized that the only thing I’m actually good at right now is playing the piano,” Yukino said with a self-deprecating smile.

”That’s not the only reason, right?”

”Mm. Another reason is that I hate losing. I don’t want the piano competitions I’ve participated in to end in failure. I want to compete again because I want to win. I don’t know how many more piano competitions I’ll enter, but for now, my goal is to win a championship once, and then stop competing altogether.

”I want the word ’victory’ to be the ending of my piano competitions, not ’defeat.’ As for why I won’t participate anymore after winning once, that has to do with the prize money.”

”Even though piano competitions do have prize money, because you have to pay to participate, sometimes the prize money you get doesn’t even cover the costs of entering the competition.”

”Eh? Is that so? This is the first time I’ve heard that. In my impression, piano competitions always feel very high-class and elegant. And after winning first place, you get a very generous prize.”

Learning that the prize money might not even cover the participation costs left Kotomi puzzled. If that was the case, why bother competing at all?

”Piano competitions are basically held in concert halls, and many concert halls do give off that high-class, elegant feeling. As for generous prize money—don’t get your hopes up. The highest prize I’ve ever won was five million yen. The other competitions all offered less than that, never more.

”Of course, I’m talking about piano competitions in Japan. I’ve only competed domestically. I’ve never participated in overseas competitions, so I don’t really know how much prize money they offer abroad.

”My mother, on the other hand, knows everything about piano competitions around the world. That’s her obsession. Even though she chose to give up piano for her career, she still unwillingly keeps track of every competition, imagining that if she could participate, she’d definitely win.”

Yukino spoke slowly. Whenever she mentioned her mother, Yukino Yukinoshita, there was little resentment or dissatisfaction in her tone—only helplessness.

She had once tried to calm herself and properly communicate with her mother, but her mother had no intention of listening. After hearing only a few sentences, she grew impatient and said:

’In the end, isn’t it just that you find practicing tiring? You complain after only three hours of piano practice, yet when I make you read for three hours, you don’t say you’re tired. I once had some expectations for you. I thought you could fulfill my dream and become a world-class pianist. Now... all I feel toward you is disappointment.’

Yukino Yukinoshita still vividly remembered the first time she heard her mother say she was disappointed in her. It felt as though her entire heart had fallen into an endless abyss.

’It was you who ignored my feelings and forcibly imposed your obsession with the piano onto me!’

’I never wanted to learn the piano in the first place!’

’What right do you have to say you’re disappointed in me?!’

’I’ve always done exactly what you told me to do, yet you’ve never praised me even once—not even offered a word of encouragement. If you’re so disappointed in me, then why did you even give birth to me?!’

Anger, confusion, resentment, hatred—all of these negative emotions converged into a single imprisoned beast, slamming itself again and again against the icy cage within her heart. Even if it left itself covered in blood, even if the ice was stained crimson, it would still continue to crash against the suffocating prison that her mother had personally ’constructed.’

Yukino Yukinoshita did not know what she would have done if that beast of negative emotions had truly broken free from its icy prison back then.

She did not dare to think any further...

Even after so many years, whenever she recalled the word ’disappointment’ spoken by her mother, Yukino Yukinoshita’s gaze would turn incomparably cold. From that moment on, the relationship between her and her mother steadily deteriorated.

Though, to be fair, it had never been very good to begin with...

”At most it’s only fifty thousand? That’s really not much. But I see that a lot of people still participate every year. If the prize money isn’t much, why are so many people rushing to compete?” Kotomi asked.

The Izumi family had originally risen to prominence through business, eventually becoming Japan’s number one financial conglomerate. Even if Kotomi had never formally studied business, she had grown up immersed in it and naturally absorbed a great deal.

As for taking over the Izumi family’s business, Kotomi had no such plans—at least, not for now. The Izumi family’s enterprises were enormous, and she did not think she could handle them.

In a few more years, her grandfather would pass the position of head of the Izumi family to her father. That would mean all authority and major business operations would transition from her grandfather to her father.

She could just remain a carefree, doted-upon young lady.

Back to the point. In Kotomi’s view, enduring harsh training and entering piano competitions was all about receiving some form of return, with prize money being the most straightforward one.

If, most of the time, even winning first place did not earn back the money spent to participate, then why were so many people eager to compete?

After all, prize money was only awarded to the champion.

If you didn’t win, you got nothing.

To Kotomi, this seemed like a clear case of investment outweighing returns—a losing deal, no matter how you looked at it.

”It’s simple. Anyone who can train in music to the level required to compete usually has not only talent, but also decent family circumstances. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be able to afford the high costs of musical training.

”I’m not talking about being extremely wealthy, just that they’re not short on money and don’t have to worry about it. To put it bluntly, for competitors, prize money is a bonus if they get it, and not a problem if they don’t.

”What they truly value is the title of ’champion,’ not the prize money.”

After hearing Yukino Yukinoshita explain it this way, Kotomi thought for a few seconds before everything clicked into place. What she hadn’t understood earlier was simply due to her lack of familiarity with piano competitions.

Now, before Yukino had even finished explaining, Kotomi already fully understood the logic behind it all.

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