The 30-second PV script was read in under a minute.
"How is it?"
Seeing everyone slowly put down their papers and exchange glances, Yukino immediately asked for feedback. She looked very confident in her work.
Of course—she was a well-read intellectual who usually devoured classic literary masterpieces and had flipped through all kinds of film scripts countless times. With that background, it was impossible for her own writing to be bad.
Though she'd never entered a literary contest, she'd read the winning entries. The gold-medal level was similar to the short novels she wrote for fun in secret, maybe even a bit lower… at least she thought so.
Still, handing over something she wrote to be seen and judged—even a 30-second script—brought a tiny flicker of anxiety and embarrassment. Yukino just didn't show it.
She watched their faces. Her calm confidence slowly faded. A bad feeling crept in.
"Hmm…" Yuigahama struggled for words. After a pause, she managed one comment: "As expected of Yukinon! Your language and metaphors are so deep…"
Iroha quickly nodded in agreement, cheerful: "Right, right. The vibe is unmatched! Even as a storyboard script, it feels like reading a novel!"
Kanade gave an encouraging look. Softly: "I don't really get it, but I think it's amazing, great job."
"…"
Got it. Yukino now understood how her work looked in their eyes.
Choosing such polite words only hurt her pride more…
"Bottom line: it's too stream-of-consciousness."
The blunt critique snapped Yukino to attention. She glared at Yuu.
He didn't disappoint. A rapid-fire barrage followed: "The point of a PV is to spark curiosity while expressing the work's core. What does your intimate 30 seconds do?"
"Male lead monologues by the window. Female lead monologues by the window. Second female lead monologues at the desk looking out the window? Are we filming a talk show?! With beautiful sunset reflections outside, showing the characters' inner loneliness and melancholy—"
"Please, Anego, it's raining today. Can I swap that gorgeous sunset for a blue curtain?"
After unloading his critique, Yuu slapped the paper on the table. Only then did he exhale, satisfied.
He hadn't expected Yukino to be this bad. She managed to cram so many flaws into a 30-second script…
Rarely did he get to pick apart Perfect Miss in a serious matter. Truly satisfying.
Of course, Yuu was ready for a counterattack.
After all, criticizing this harshly and cruelly—any normal literary girl would be scared to tears or pack up and lock herself at home. Yukino was clearly different.
Whether verbal comeback or physical, "surrender" wasn't in her vocabulary. Even if Yuu felt every point was spot-on and she had no chance, she'd still try to take him down to save face.
Just as he thought that, Yuu noticed Yukino had fallen into a strange silence, staring at him oddly.
"What?" This time Yuu asked.
"You… what did you just call me?" Yukino locked eyes. The corner of her mouth lifted—not quite a smile. Dark blue eyes narrowed like a cat.
Yuu froze. Instantly recalled every word: "…Anego?"
Yukino nodded, satisfied, smiling like a blooming flower: "Mmm. Say it again, little brother."
[Ding!]
[Congratulations, Host! Reward: Editing (Expert Level).]
Yuu: "…"
(This woman's usually reliable. Why's she not focusing on the point right now?)
(Meaning everything I just said went unheard, and you only caught the "Big Sis" I blurted out?)
(You'd even claim a tiny win like this. How deep's your grudge for always being treated like an annoying little sister?!)
"Hah—" Yuu exhaled hard, pressed his brow. Rubbed his Yintang point like a headache.
A gesture Yukino often did. He even mimicked her expression perfectly.
"Yukinoshita, can we get back to business?"
Yukino's smile vanished. Coldly: "You can take weird group photos in the clubroom, but I can't ask you to call me Anego?"
"If you join the photo, I'll give you Kars' pose."
"Still call me Anego. Need me to teach you how to read 'Big Sister' properly?"
"Enough, pal. We don't play high-level games like that." Yuu pointed at the script. His gaze turned serious—no joking: "About your script outline, I've got one more line. Also a critique."
"Go ahead." Her reaction was calmer than expected. Though slightly resigned, Yukino didn't stubbornly refuse: "Don't look at me like that. Admitting someone beneath you surpasses you in a field is something only the morally superior can do. I know you can't."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. That's exactly what you'd say." Yuu shrugged. Then met her eyes and said:
"Sorry, are you trying to write minimalist literary art?"
"Generally, yes."
"But this script feels like a little girl who's never dated and has few friends. You just wrote the most perfect love and friendship you could imagine."
"…"
Hearing that, Yukino didn't blink. Though her face stayed calm like accepting a lesson, her unconsciously shrinking pupils and pressed lips revealed inner turmoil—hard to settle.
Yuu suddenly realized: when Yukino got embarrassed, it started with her ears turning red, then slowly spread to her snow-white cheeks, her graceful swan-like neck. Her flawless pale skin always made that faint blush look tantalizing.
Watched secretly. As if time began moving on her body, Yukino slowly exhaled. She suddenly stood, grabbed her school bag from the chair.
"I'm going home."
"…"
The air froze in shock. Yuigahama and Iroha quickly stood to stop her, faces full of dismay. Kanade blocked with her body. Then several looked at Yuu urgently.
As if urging him to say something soothing.
Resigned sigh. Yuu shook his head at himself from seconds ago.
(What did I just say? Yukinoshita's different?)
Suddenly he wanted to laugh—but feared the school bag smacking his face if he did.
Turns out, at her core.
Without family background and looks, Yukino was just an ordinary literary girl.
Not strong, not fragile. No different from them… Oh, no. There was a difference.
At least Yuu had dated before. Yukino hadn't.