Living in the Heart of Tokyo

Dropped frames…

Yukinoshita never expected to be hit with such a surprise.

At this moment, she had her face buried in her hands, completely unable to look toward Miyamizu Mitsuha.

Compared to Mitsuha's standard, her own student was just… just…

'Forget it. I can't say it.'

If anyone has the right to be heartbroken, it's his parents.

Coming from me, it'd just be too cruel.

Even so, she couldn't bring herself to criticize Hojou—not even a little.

After all, he had been earnestly, meticulously following the motion breakdown she had provided, not skipping a single step.

Yukinoshita raised her head to look at the man whose forehead was dotted with sweat.

His long, well-shaped eyebrows were so furrowed they practically tied themselves in a knot.

She knew she was a perfectionist, but she never expected the notoriously lazy, go-with-the-flow Hojou to harbor the same kind of obsession and intensity.

And now… things had truly turned into what Miyamizu described.

The student had the ability to execute the teacher's instructions, but the teacher's method was no longer enough to guide the student toward his goal.

Yukinoshita felt a heavy pressure in her chest, as if she might cough up blood.

Normally, he should've grasped it by now.

Had Hojou been cursed by the gods?

Trading his ability to dance in exchange for excelling at literally everything else?

Looking at that handsome face, the girl couldn't help but feel a wave of defeat.

If this were a competition between her and Hojou, she'd have no choice but to declare a loss…

Unless, of course, she relied on the power of Miyamizu Mitsuha.

But even then…

"Kyousuke still dances like crap," Yamauchi Sakura remarked with a sigh. "But Yukino, you're seriously amazing—can't believe you got him this far."

Her gaze toward Yukinoshita was filled with admiration and satisfaction.

This was the person she had chosen so carefully.

Only someone this obsessive could keep a guy like Hojou in check.

"It's still not enough. This level… I can't accept it," Yukinoshita muttered, clearly in pain.

She had never imagined that the source of such anguish and frustration would be a man, and not because he was too strong—but because she wasn't good enough.

Hojou Kyousuke.

Was this Sakura's plan all along? Was this how she intended to make me fall for him? If so… then that idiot might actually be terrifying.

Had she been scheming everything since the moment she campaigned to become Red Team's leader?

Yukinoshita glanced over at Sakura.

For a brief moment, those golden amber eyes of hers seemed to gleam with smug satisfaction.

That smile of hers—it felt like a shadowy, monstrous hand reaching from above, closing in to grasp her.

"I really didn't know dancing could be interpreted that way," Mitsuha said with a chuckle.

It wasn't even robot dancing—it was more like the teacher had said, "Do this, and this, and this," and Kyousuke just did the first "this"… and stopped there.

The only word for it: bizarre.

"The Dropped Frame Style!"

Eriri had completely forgotten that she had planned to teach Kyousuke herself.

Laughing until she clutched her stomach, she watched the recording on Sakura's phone with tears in her eyes.

"I'm telling you, no one else in this room could pull that off!"

Kyousuke casually tossed aside the now-frayed carpet and plopped down on the wooden floor.

Leaning back on both arms, he stretched out his long legs without a trace of embarrassment.

In fact, he was shamelessly thinking, As expected of me! Even the hero of justice couldn't keep up with this performance!

"Sawamura-san," Kasumigaoka Utaha's voice cut in coolly, "Weren't you just complaining a few days ago that Kyousuke needed to hurry home so you could teach him to dance? Now's your time to shine."

Eriri's boisterous laughter stopped abruptly as she froze under the witch's gaze.

Kasumigaoka's usually icy voice suddenly sounded a bit… enthusiastic?

But even someone capable of slaying the Red-Eyed Witch in her prime shrank back like a kitten being grabbed by the scruff of the neck.

"Uh… I still have to take care of these two little girls," she said, forcing an awkward smile.

The blonde ojou-sama's cocky grin vanished, replaced by an expression of sheepish retreat.

Sure, she had learned a bit of dance back in first grade when her mother randomly decided to teach her—but that hardly qualified her to teach someone like Kyousuke!

"Sachiko, Kayo, you've troubled that big sister enough. Now it's your turn to show me around."

Yotsuba finally spoke up.

She hadn't gotten to see anything yet, and it was high time these "well-trained troops" gave her the grand tour.

"It's really no trouble at all…"

Eriri muttered, reluctant to part with her two sweetly obedient human shields who called her "big sister."

But a shrine maiden's command was absolute.

The two girls trotted over to Yotsuba, and the trio headed toward the courtyard, chatting as they went.

"…" Eriri glanced around, hunting for another excuse.

"Oh, right! Today's supposed to be Mitsuha's turn to teach Kyousuke!"

Yes, yes! Mitsuha rarely visited, and it'd be absolutely cruel to hog her time with Kyousuke.

This was the morally correct choice!

Eriri nodded in satisfaction and applauded herself for her righteous decision-making.

…Ojou-sama, do you even hear the nonsense coming out of your mouth?

Isn't this exactly the moment when you should be causing trouble?!

Kasumigaoka silently stared at the smug girl, completely speechless.

Mitsuha, meanwhile, smiled gracefully and stood up.

Her porcelain-white hand, delicate as carved jade, reached out to Kyousuke, still sitting on the floor.

"Come, Kyousuke. It's my turn to teach you."

Whether she could actually teach him didn't matter.

Losing to Yukinoshita didn't matter either.

What mattered was this: dancing together with Hojou in front of all of them—just once.

She had seen Kyousuke's earlier performance. Her own confidence had quietly withered.

But she knew what truly mattered in the end.

Kyousuke looked at the outstretched hand.

Under the sunlight, her slender, fair fingers seemed to glow, each palm line visible as if etched by starlight.

If the timing were better, he would've pulled her close and counted every line on her palm.

If it had been Yukinoshita, he might've used the opportunity to sneak in a break.

But this was Miyamizu Mitsuha.

So, without hesitation, he grabbed her hand and stood up.

He didn't yank her into his arms for a dramatic "oops-fall" moment either.

Too many people around.

No room for comedy today.

Once standing, he glanced around and—yep, everyone was still watching him intently.

This…

Naoka, weren't you the type to hide in your studio the moment you got home?

Why are you so free today? Isn't your editor planning to recommend you to a magazine next month?

Eriri, are your doujin pages for next week's release ready?

Kasumigaoka—

Right as he thought of her, Kyousuke saw Utaha close her book.

"Don't bother calling me for dinner. I'm sleeping until tomorrow."

Yawning as she raised a slender hand, she strode upstairs with her pale legs swaying elegantly.

And just like that, the queen of yawns passed on her sleepy curse. Eriri yawned too, her eyelids starting to droop.

'Must've been all the drawing I did last night,' she rationalized.

She didn't actually remember drawing anything, but that excuse always worked.

"Call me for dinner, though. I'm taking a nap first."

Yukari perked up at the word "dinner." She remembered it was her turn to cook today.

Flashing Kyousuke a faint smile, she stepped into the kitchen.

Naoka followed—those two were a pair.

Suddenly, the once-crowded couch was now nearly empty, with only Sakura, Megumi, and Yukinoshita left.

Seeing Sakura's sparkling eyes, Kyousuke knew—there was no way she was leaving.

But Katou-san… why do you have the same look?!

Have you been infected by Sakura virus?!

Kyousuke didn't even glance at Yukinoshita—he already knew this strict teacher wasn't going anywhere.

"All right, let's begin."

Mitsuha looked at Hojou Kyousuke with gentle eyes and softly began humming the tune from earlier.

For her, this was a walk in the park.

"Ready, go~"

At her cue, Kyousuke quickly stepped his right foot back again.

Without a carpet to muffle it, the sound of his foot hitting the wooden floor echoed loudly.

"Okay~ stop right there."

Mitsuha's voice was soft as a whisper.

She crouched down and gently took hold of Kyousuke's ankle with both hands, guiding his leg back to its original position.

Her hands felt cool against his skin—especially soothing after the heat of exertion.

Her touch was light and careful, as if handling something fragile.

"This time, Kyousuke, you don't need to use any strength. Just follow my hands, okay?"

Her tone was so gentle, like she was coaxing a child.

Watching from the lawn outside the living room, Yotsuba's eyes widened in disbelief.

Who is that!? What kind of spirit possessed my sister!?

Why is she being so sweet!? Where's the stern instructor who taught me to dance?!

If Hojou-nii messes up, you're supposed to make him repeat the move ten thousand times! Didn't you eat lunch today? Use some force! Make him feel it! That's how he'll learn!

Yotsuba's mind was flooded with memories of her own dance lessons back in Itomori.

Her sister and grandmother were terrifyingly strict.

Crying or slacking off was never an option, and more often than not, the bamboo cane was involved.

Sure, the massages afterward were nice, but the training itself was pure torment.

But now—look at this!

Her sister, humming sweetly with a soft smile on her face, holding Hojou-nii's smelly foot with both hands? It felt like she was watching a stranger.

Yotsuba's face twisted in jealousy.

Mitsuha, of course, had no idea what her little sister was thinking.

And even if she did, she wouldn't have cared.

Her own training under her grandmother had been far tougher than anything Yotsuba experienced.

People always made a big deal out of the shrine maiden title, but if you didn't know the chants or sacred dances, how could you call yourself a true Miyamizu?

As Mitsuha knelt down, the masculine scent of Kyousuke filled her senses, and a soft blush crept across her cheeks.

She started humming the tune again. "All right, let's begin. Just follow my lead~"

Her hands were still lightly holding his ankle, with no fear of being kicked away like a discarded carpet.

With Mitsuha's delicate fingers wrapped around his ankle, Kyousuke's resistance melted away.

Her gentle humming lifted his spirits, making even his bones feel lighter.

Following her lead, he stepped his right foot back slightly—fluid, natural.

The movement came easily.

"Perfect. Now bring your foot back," Mitsuha said with a satisfied nod.

"Okay, now try it yourself."

Kyousuke followed her instructions.

This time, the move was smooth—no awkward stumbles.

He finally understood why personal trainers at the gym charge so much.

Totally worth it.

"Amazing~" Megumi Kato whispered, wide-eyed.

So this is how dance lessons work?

Her eyes sparkled as she softly clapped, feeling like she'd just peeked into a whole new world.

Yukinoshita's mouth was slightly agape too.

Watching Kyousuke's smooth, practiced step-back, she had a brief moment of doubt—was he faking all those earlier mistakes just to embarrass her?

Maybe he was even conspiring with Sakura to PUA her or something…

But she quickly shook that thought off.

That would mean Mitsuha was in on it too, and the idea of them staging an elaborate performance was a bit too terrifying.

It'd be like living in The Truman Show.

No, she couldn't let her pride make excuses.

What Mitsuha said earlier came back to her—the idea that a teacher lacking skill tends to blame the student.

Clenching her fists, Yukinoshita bit her lip.

"Let me try!"

As a girl who prided herself on being flawless, she had no problem admitting when she fell short.

It might sound contradictory, but that's precisely what made Yukinoshita Yukino the perfect girl—her willingness to improve by learning from the best.

With that in mind, she rose from the sofa.

Kato's eyes widened in shock as she glanced from Hojou and Mitsuha to Yukinoshita standing tall.

Her short bob swayed adorably with the movement.

'Wait, what did she just say? Try what? Is she going to… hold Hojou's foot too?'

Her big round eyes were full of big round confusion.

Outside, Yotsuba's expression mirrored the same.

What's wrong with all these people!?

This is not how you teach someone to dance! Somebody give Mitsuha and Yukinoshita a bamboo cane and beat some sense into Hojou-nii!

The little girl practically wanted to snap a stalk of bamboo from the garden and shove it into their hands herself.

If necessary, Yotsuba was more than willing to stand on the sidelines as a referee.

If either her sister or Yukinoshita went too easy on Hojou-nii, she'd step in and give them a whack herself—make sure they hit him properly!

But as she imagined this scenario, her mind drifted to the bike sitting in their storage shed—decorated with flashy stickers, the very one Hojou-nii had helped her fix when he was "inside" her sister's body.

Her heart softened a little at the memory.

...Fine. Maybe not with a bamboo stick.

A slap on the hand would do. Palm to palm—it stings both ways, right? That's fair.

Unfortunately for Yotsuba, the world didn't revolve around her fantasies.

When Yukinoshita spoke up, Mitsuha blinked in surprise and looked up, locking eyes with the equally stunned Kyousuke.

Both of them gave a resigned little smile.

It hadn't been long since they'd met, but between Hojou's earlier complaints about his strict teacher and what she had seen for herself, Mitsuha had a pretty solid grasp of Yukinoshita's personality—especially her stubborn streak.

"Here you go," Mitsuha said with a smile, stepping aside to make room and returning to sit next to Sakura.

Sakura quickly handed her a cold mug of barley tea and started fanning her with one hand, looking just like a coach in a boxing ring during a mid-round break.

Now, Kyousuke was about to face his second opponent.

Yukinoshita stood in front of him, about 165 cm tall—just half a head shorter than him.

If she stood on her toes or he bent down a little, they could easily kiss.

A dangerously perfect height.

Her pale blue eyes were filled with determination, so intense it made Kyousuke feel like he should be drawing a sword, not dancing.

But then—suddenly—her pink lips parted, and she began to hum:

"Doo~ doo~ doo~ doodoodoo~"

"Pfft—hahaha!"

Before he could even move, Kyousuke burst out laughing.

The contrast was too much—this normally serious Yukinoshita making such a ridiculously cute sound? Impossible not to laugh.

"Be serious! Follow my rhythm!" Yukinoshita snapped, frowning deeply.

Why didn't he laugh when Mitsuha was humming!?

"Bwahaha—sorry, sorry—hahaha~!"

"Outside parties, stop interfering!" she barked, frown deepening into an angry crease.

That idiot Sakura was clearly more of a distraction than help.

"From the top. Focus on my cues. Doo~ doo~ doo~ doodoodoo~ Okay, right leg back."

Since Hojou had already learned this part, Yukinoshita didn't crouch down or touch his ankle like Mitsuha had.

Instead, she shifted her attention to the next step—the turn.

"Good. Now raise your right arm."

Imitating Mitsuha's earlier guidance, she firmly grasped both of Hojou's arms, helping him complete the movement.

To her, the physical contact meant nothing.

If she flinched now, Sakura would never let her hear the end of it.

The girl would shout something so outrageous, Yukinoshita didn't even want to imagine it.

This is normal. This is teaching. That's all it is.

That's what she told herself.

And yet, as her fingers pressed against the firm muscles beneath his loose sleeve, a faint blush crept onto her cheeks.

It's fine.

Totally normal.

Even Mitsuha blushed earlier! If I don't blush, that's what would be weird!

For some reason—maybe because they were both teaching Hojou—Yukinoshita unconsciously lumped herself into the same category as Mitsuha.

Fortunately, her bold approach worked.

This hands-on teaching method proved very effective—Kyousuke's arm moved fluidly, with no hesitation at all. It lifted up, up, up...

And then—

To Yotsuba's complete shock—Yukinoshita Yukino, still gripping Hojou Kyousuke's strong arms, was suddenly lifted clean off the ground.

The two of them ended up pressed chest-to-chest, face-to-face—

Practically glued together.