I Will Do Everything In My Power To Bring Happiness To The Enchanting Beauty Who Can No Longer Smile. - Chapter 55: Jack-Of-All-Trades.

Jack-Of-All-Trades.

—A boy who once promised to always stay by Sakakibara Tsubame’s side, no matter what.

Their bond was far too close to be called childhood friends… and calling them lovers would’ve been a lie. There were no words that could properly capture the nature of their relationship—if there were, only that one would suffice.

And yet—

“Ha… haha… HAHHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”

Laughter rang out across the quiet residential neighborhood. It came from the boy—Arisaki was laughing.

He laughed endlessly, without pause, as though his breath could keep him going forever. Then, when he finally calmed down, he looked over with an unwavering gaze.

“If this isn’t the very definition of delusion, I don’t know what is.”

“You lecture people about using polite language, and then burst into laughter the moment someone answers your question? How high and mighty. What are you trying to say?”

Shirao snapped before I could even respond. He was clearly furious, veins bulging in his forehead as he glared daggers at Arisaki.

“You literally live in a different world.”

“What?”

“From what you’ve heard so far, it should be obvious. ‘Nation’s Ruinous Beauty’ lives in a completely different world from him… and from all of you. Surely, you’ve sensed it too?”

Arisaki sneered, casting his gaze toward me, Shirao, and Se-chan.

“A struggling magazine publisher pleads to print even a single photo of The Alluring Beauty. A failing bookstore rushes to pile up her magazine issues at the entrance. She’s not just a high school girl anymore—she’s a national icon. No, even that’s putting it lightly. She lives in a different world.”

“…Just a high school girl, huh?”

“Isn’t that right? I don’t know much about you lot, but even if you’re in a club or won some awards, it’s all pedestrian. You’re not one of a kind. You’re nowhere near her level.”

Shirao’s cheek twitched, his clenched fists trembling with anger. He glared intensely at Arisaki, then let out a long, heavy sigh.

“…You really don’t know a thing, do you?”

“Shirao…”

“Shigure. I’m pissed too—he’s insulting someone important to us. And everything he’s saying is completely off the mark.”

I instinctively called his name, but his tone silenced me. Even Se-chan, still holding Shirao’s hand, had an uncharacteristically emotional expression.

“There’s a lot I could say, but first—calling Shigure ‘just a high schooler’ is dead wrong.”

“Oh? Then he isn’t?”

“Sure, comparing Yukitsuki Shigure’s fame to Sakakibara Tsubame’s, he might not stand a chance. But it’s just lack of research, really.”

Arisaki raised an eyebrow, but Shirao’s expression was tinged with disbelief and restrained fury.

“Ask anyone walking around here, ‘Do you know Yukitsuki Shigure?’—they’d all say yes.”

“Hmph. Even the neighborhood kids remember familiar faces.”

“It’s not about memory—it’s about impression. Kids, students, office workers, housewives, retirees… you’ll hear the same thing: ‘Shigure helped me out.’”

…It’s not something I ever boasted about, but I understood how Shirao felt. And if I really did do those things—then I ought to stand tall, even if only a little.

“He helped people? Not ‘did them a favor’?”

“Yeah. Back in middle school, Shigure took on anyone’s troubles. Big or small, he’d fix them all. Everyone at school knew him. Around the neighborhood too. Ask around the station, someone’s bound to know his name.”

“I see… So he was something like a detective? No—more like a jack-of-all-trades?”

“Exactly.”

“What nonsense. Just child’s play.”

Shirao exhaled sharply, barely holding back all the emotion welling up inside.

“Even if it was child’s play… a whole lot of people were saved by it.”

“That’s nothing but false virtue.”

“What?”

“I said it’s hypocrisy. Helping others just to feel good about yourself. And let’s be honest—some of those weren’t errands; they were deeper issues, no? Isn’t it likely your ‘kindness’ turned into unwanted meddling?”

Those words pierced like barbed wire.

It was true—I’d taken on many requests. From trivial favors to finding lost pets, to romantic consultations… even cheating investigations. I really was like a detective.

…So yes, I couldn’t say none of it was meddling. Even the “thank you”s I received might’ve been uttered through gritted teeth.

Maybe I did feel good about being thanked. And if I liked that… then maybe I couldn’t deny his accusation.

But still—I always tried to give it my all.

“Not all of it, no. But we followed up. Like with romance advice—we checked in afterward, made sure they weren’t being hurt. Shigure didn’t stop at ‘helping.’ He worried about their lives after. We all helped him with that.”

“Then what? Are you saying no one was hurt because of him?”

At that, Shirao finally faltered. Arisaki, noticing, gave a twisted smirk.

“There you have it. Unwanted meddling.”

“…That’s not true. That was… something no one could’ve stopped.”

“Regardless, someone was hurt. Isn’t that enough? Yukitsuki Shigure, was it?”

“…Yeah, that’s right.”

“Shigure…!”

“No point lying here.”

And that incident… was why I stopped being the so-called jack-of-all-trades.

“Worse than an average high schooler. You stuck your nose into someone’s life and made it worse. That’s not hypocrisy—that’s malice.”

“That’s—”

“That’s not true.”

For a moment—none of us could move. We hadn’t expected her to speak up.

“She… Kizuki-chan was hurt, yes. But she never regretted meeting Shigure. No—she was deeply grateful.”

“…And what does that matter?”

Arisaki’s eyes narrowed with irritation. But standing before him was Se-chan—Kito Seri—more reserved than Shirao, barely ever speaking to boys.

“Shigure worked hard. He helped so many people—not just with effort, but results too. From relationship advice to family problems… there are people who’ve said, ‘Because of him, I can now speak up when I see someone in trouble.’ His impact is enormous.”

“And still, hurting even one person renders it meaningless.”

“No, it doesn’t. Just look at us. People like Shirao and me—he helped us when we truly needed it. Shigure saved countless lives, some of whom were at their breaking point. You can’t tell me that was meaningless.”

Se-chan turned to me and Tsubame with a warm smile.

“Back then, I just thought, ‘People like Shigure are amazing.’ Even after helping so many people, he still said it wasn’t enough. Now I understand why he worked so hard. And no, I don’t think his efforts were lacking.”

She looked back at Shirao, then steeled her expression and faced Arisaki.

“The past can’t be erased. Yes, that girl was hurt. But it doesn’t erase the lives Shigure saved. And she would’ve been hurt far worse without him.”

“You’re speaking in riddles.”

“Because some things don’t need to be shared. But here’s proof—he’s been supported by those he once helped.”

“…What do you mean?”

Confused, I looked at her. She turned to Shirao, who explained.

“Remember those times when stuff happened in class, but everything calmed down really fast?”

“Ah, the time I asked you to help…”

It was back when we’d just started high school. People kept staring at Tsubame, and I got bombarded with questions. I asked Shirao if there was anything we could do about it.

The result? Those stares and questions quickly decreased. Not entirely, but enough that the crowd faded much sooner than expected.

“That wasn’t just me. I asked classmates from middle school to help. Changed the whole atmosphere. People whose friends or family had been helped by Shigure stepped up. Especially upperclassmen—they kept the rowdy ones in check.”

I widened my eyes in surprise. I’d never been harassed in school—not really. A few awkward moments maybe, but never anything extreme.

“That’s what I mean. When one person moves, others follow. He influenced hundreds. Indirectly, he’s saved over a thousand. Even with that, you’d still call him ‘just a high schooler’?”

“…”

“And another thing—relationships aren’t for outsiders to judge. Laughing at them is out of line. Even if you think they live in different worlds, that doesn’t give you the right to interfere. We all have the right to choose how we live.”

Just as Se-chan finished those words—I noticed her legs were trembling, and she was squeezing Shirao’s hand tightly.

She had stood up for me—with everything she had. It nearly made me choke.

And beside me, Tsubame was quietly watching.

And then—

“That’s right. No one has the right to decide the nature of a relationship between two people.”

—A voice called out from behind. We turned to see…

“Usui-san…”

“Tch… Time’s up, I see.”

A composed woman in a suit—Usui-san—stood before us.

“Sorry for being late, Tsubame-san. Shigure-san. All of you. …It seems someone has been quite the nuisance.”

She smiled gently at us… Then turned a sharp glare toward Arisaki.

“There’s a lot I could say—but let’s start with this.”

Her eyes were sharp enough to chill the air—cold, cutting. Just meeting her gaze was enough to make anyone hold their breath.

“Don’t use children as pawns in your political games.”

Her voice carried a weight that pressed down on everyone, charged with unwavering conviction.

“…That’s an awfully harsh accusation.”

“It’s the truth. I had hoped the lack of prior contact meant you’d stay away… but I suppose you’ve grown desperate. Pulling strings behind the scenes, chasing achievements, brandishing your power like this.”

“…”

Arisaki looked stunned for a moment—but his gaze quickly sharpened.

Then, just as swiftly, his eyes reverted to that familiar, insincere glint.

“…It seems the tide has turned against me. I’ll withdraw for now and return at a better time.”

“Wait… Tsubame-san.”

As he turned to head for his car, Usui-san called out, halting him. She looked to Tsubame.

“Have you made your decision?”

“……Yes.”

Surprised at first, Tsubame widened her eyes, but after a brief pause, she gave a firm nod.

Then, she turned to me. Our eyes met—and she took my hand again, gripping it tightly.

In her eyes burned a light—like the moon illuminated by the sun, brilliant and unwavering.

“Once again, I decline your offer.”

“…”

Her voice rang out through the quiet neighborhood—no, even in a crowded city street, it would have been heard clearly.

“…If you change your mind, do let us know. Good day.”

Wearing an expression like he’d bitten into something sour, Arisaki spat out his words and disappeared into the car.

“I’m sorry, Tsubame-san. I know pushing you for an answer like that felt underhanded, like something a con artist would do…”

“You did it because you knew he’d come back otherwise, right? It’s fine. …I’d already made up my mind.”

“I see. Then that’s—”

Usui-san’s face softened slightly at Tsubame’s words—then her body swayed unsteadily.

“Usui-san!?”

“—Ah. Sorry about that.”

I instinctively reached to steady her, but she caught herself just in time, raising a hand to signal she was alright.

Still, seeing her like that, concern filled Tsubame’s expression.

“…Usui-san. How many days have you gone without sleep? Your makeup and outfit are a little off too.”

“…Things have just been hectic lately.”

“It’s because of him, right? How many days?”

Though Usui-san gave a strained smile, she seemed to realize there was no escape. With a sigh, she answered:

“About three, I think.”

“…Three whole days?”

“Yes. That incident’s caused a lot of trouble in various places—I’ve been tied up managing it. I’ve really let myself go, haven’t I? …But, Tsubame-san, and all of you—I need to say this.”

Her gaze moved from Tsubame to me, then to Shirao and Se-chan, meeting each of us in turn.

“I’m sorry for being late. But from here on out, please leave it to us—the adults. We will handle this. I promise you.”

There was something resolute in her voice, a quiet strength that cut through everything. Unlike earlier—this was the voice of someone who could finally breathe again. The voice of someone reliable.

“I’ll make sure Tsubame-san never has to wear that expression again. You’ll be able to stay with your friends, with Shigure-san. And above all, you’ll be safe from people like him.”

“…Yeah. I believe you.”

Tsubame turned to me, giving a strong nod. Shirao and Se-chan followed suit.

“But—”

However, when Tsubame turned back to Usui-san, her expression took on a more serious, slightly reproachful look.

“Usui-san, please come rest at my house. You look like you’re going to collapse at any moment.”

“Ah… Ahaha… Sorry. I’ll take you up on that. There’s something I’d like to talk about anyway. I just finished speaking with Sakura-san.”

“Mom… Is she alright?”

“Yes. There were a few issues on her end too, but nothing dangerous.”

I’d been a little worried about Tsubame’s mother, but it seemed things were okay. Tsubame exhaled in relief, then gently tugged my hand and began walking beside Usui-san, supporting her by the shoulder.

“Is it alright if Tsubame’s friends come too? …It’s something I want them to hear as well.”

“……………………Sure.”

“Pfft—Hahahaha, hyamughf! I-I bit my tongue…”

“Yeah, he’s clearly switched into ‘panic mode’ now…”

Faced with Usui-san for the first time, Shirao’s voice had shrunk to a fraction of what it had been, and Se-chan had not only stumbled over her words—but literally bit her tongue.

I made a mental note to thank the both of them later—
And just as I thought that, Tsubame gently tapped the back of my hand with her finger, drawing my gaze.

“Tell me about what happened earlier—about that person, Kizuki-san.”

“…Yeah, of course.”

It wasn’t going to be a pleasant story— But she deserved to hear it too.

There’s a lot to process. But once we get home…
I’ll go through it all, one step at a time.