Becoming Enkidu in DxD-Chapter 313: Hayama Hayato’s Request!

Chapter 81 – Hayama Hayato’s Request!

"If you have something to say, then say it. Don’t waste our time."

At that moment, Yukinoshita Yukino, the president of the Service Club, finally spoke.

Her tone was cold and cutting—completely different from how she spoke when Yuigahama Yui was around. Once again, she was like a flower blooming on a frozen cliff—beautiful, distant, and impossible to touch.

The warmth she had begun to show recently was reserved only for those few she genuinely cared about. For everyone else, what awaited them was the biting chill of winter.

Hayama Hayato could feel the frost in her voice. His shoulders stiffened instinctively.

"Actually... it’s about Yumiko. I think she’s been acting a bit strange lately."

"Strange?" Yukino frowned. "Strange how?"

The description was too vague. "Strange" could mean anything.

But Yui’s expression shifted. It was subtle—but she clearly knew what Hayama meant.

"I mean... it’s just that..." Hayama began, his words circling endlessly, never landing anywhere.

Yukino’s gaze grew sharper. Her irritation was clear now.

He’d come to ask for help, but couldn’t even state his request properly. What exactly was he trying to do?

Watching silently from the corner, Yukinoshita Akira couldn’t help but smile faintly. He had already noticed something odd about Miura Yumiko days ago.

Even if he hadn’t been paying close attention, the so-called "popular group" was always within his line of sight at school.

The subtle change in Yumiko’s behavior that week hadn’t escaped him.

Nor had it escaped Yui, who was far more sensitive to others’ emotions.

"...As I thought," Akira finally said, his tone laced with sarcasm. "You really are a scumbag, Hayama Hayato."

The room froze. All eyes turned toward him.

Hayama lowered his gaze slightly. He knew Akira had seen through everything.

"So, you’ve already figured it out, huh... Yukinoshita Akira."

At last, Hayama lifted his eyes to meet Akira’s directly.

"Hmph. Your voice—and your little group’s chatter—can be heard halfway across the room. Did you really think I was deaf?"

"...My apologies. I’ll be more careful from now on."

Hayama bowed slightly, his apology immediate and sincere. Not because Akira intimidated him—though he did—but because of something deeper.

In Japan, there was an unspoken rule ingrained from childhood: never cause trouble for others.

To inconvenience someone was, by itself, already a social sin.

And when that "someone" was of higher standing—someone like Akira Yukinoshita—that mistake became all the heavier.

"I don’t particularly care," Akira said calmly, setting his teacup down. "But Hayama Hayato... you’ve somehow managed to break your own record for pathetic behavior."

"..."

Hayama stayed silent. The words stung, but he didn’t deny them.

Yukino and Hikigaya Hachiman exchanged a glance. Both of them knew Akira well enough to realize—he wasn’t the kind of person who insulted others without reason.

"What’s going on, Akira?" Yukino finally asked.

"To put it simply," Akira began, "Miura Yumiko and Hayama Hayato are both part of the popular crowd in Class F. Lately, Miura’s been showing signs that she intends to confess her feelings to Hayama. And that’s what’s making him anxious."

"Anxious?" Yukino repeated. "As in... he doesn’t know how to respond?"

Akira nodded faintly.

At that, both Yui and Hachiman wore nearly identical expressions of realization.

Ah, so that’s it.

"Here’s the problem," Akira continued. "Hayama doesn’t like Miura Yumiko. So if she confesses, he’ll have to reject her."

"And what’s wrong with that?" Yukino asked plainly.

She’d never been involved with the social intricacies of the "popular crowd," so she couldn’t see what was so complicated about it.

"The problem," Akira explained, "is what happens after the confession. Once someone’s rejected, things between them usually can’t go back to the way they were. The atmosphere turns awkward. That tension spreads. And when that person’s part of your friend group..."

He didn’t need to finish. Everyone understood.

"That’s why Hayama doesn’t want Yumiko to confess," Akira concluded.

Yukino turned her eyes toward Hayama. "So you’re saying... you’d rather keep things ambiguous than face her feelings directly?"

Hayama let out a small, helpless sigh. "...I suppose you could put it that way."

Akira smiled faintly, though it was the kind of smile that cut more deeply than a frown.

"So, to summarize: you want to keep a girl emotionally attached to you, but you don’t want her to confess—because that would force you to take responsibility and ruin your little social circle. In other words, you want to preserve your status quo."

He paused, letting the words hang.

"Hayama Hayato... you really are trash."

Yukino’s assessment followed immediately—and, unsurprisingly, it matched Akira’s.

There was no mistaking it: Hayama was deliberately stringing Yumiko along. As long as she stayed in that half-hopeful, half-hopeless state, he could avoid both conflict and accountability.

It was, in every sense, self-serving.

Yuigahama Yui stayed silent, guilt flickering across her face. She’d always known Yumiko liked Hayama. She’d also known that Hayama never really felt the same way.

But hearing it spelled out like this... it hurt.

Worse yet, she remembered Akira’s words from before—that Hayama had used Yumiko as a social shield, a convenient excuse to maintain his image.

Back then, Yui had wanted to believe he’d changed. That they’d all grown beyond those games.

Now she wasn’t so sure.

Hayama didn’t argue back. He didn’t defend himself, didn’t even try to justify it. He simply lowered his head and accepted every word.

"...Even though I personally dislike requests like this," Yukino finally said, breaking the silence, "this is the Service Club. We don’t turn away anyone who asks for help. Your request is accepted."

Hayama blinked, momentarily surprised. Then he bowed deeply. "Thank you... truly."

He meant it.

What Yukino didn’t realize was that Hayama wasn’t trying to manipulate anyone this time. He genuinely didn’t want to hurt Yumiko—or lose her as a friend.

But he had no words, no strength, and no courage left to explain that. Anything he said now would only sound like an excuse.

Akira didn’t say anything more.

To him, neither Miura Yumiko nor Hayama Hayato had any real relevance to his world.

Their troubles, their drama—it was none of his concern.

He simply turned his gaze back toward the window, where the evening sunlight spilled into the room like quiet gold.

Indifference is mercy, he thought faintly.

And for Yukinoshita Akira... that was more than enough.

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