Who Can Resist Nakano Nino? [172]

Shirase and Nakano Ichika chatted for a bit. He’d planned to wait until the dance floor thinned out before taking this eager girl for a spin.

But as they talked, Ichika’s gaze grew hazy. Her eyes, already moist, now sparkled under the lights with an unfamiliar, alluring sheen.

Shirase glanced at the table behind her. On the edge sat a half-empty glass of alcohol.

“You’ve been drinking?” he finally realized.

“Eh? How did you know?” Ichika blinked, startled. Then she raised a finger to her damp lips, giggled, and whispered in a childlike tone, “Shh, don’t tell—I only had a tiny bit.”

“How tiny?” Shirase chuckled, amused by her silly, innocent look.

“Just a little… maybe two sips?” Ichika wrinkled her nose. “They said it was brandy, so I got curious. Tasted awful.”

“And you still took a second sip?”

“Well, I couldn’t taste much with the first one. Hey, stop scolding me~”

The alcohol was clearly hitting. Her cheeks flushed pink, and she tugged at Shirase’s hand, swaying it playfully—a pure, girlish act of spoiled cuteness.

A little silly, even more adorable.

“How do you feel?” Seeing her like this, Shirase couldn’t bring himself to tease her.

“A bit stuffy, right here.” She tapped her chest. “And hot.”

“Want some air?” Shirase nodded toward the empty balcony.

“Mm-hmm-hmm.” Ichika bobbed her head.

Shirase shook his head, smiling. So this was a side of Ichika he’d never seen. Should he record it?

Thanks to modern tech, blackmail material could be saved forever.

Back then, your only embarrassment was word of mouth.

He led Ichika out. The music inside dropped to a murmur.

Once the cool breeze cleared her head a little, she noticed Shirase staring. “Why do you keep looking at me?”

“I was deciding whether to film this silly look,” he said frankly.

Ichika pouted. “Absolutely not~! I don’t want a video of me being embarrassing!”

“But it’s fine if I see it live?”

“You’re already here. I can’t exactly chase you off, can I?”

She sounded resigned, but Shirase thought he saw a flicker of shy embarrassment in her eyes.

He couldn’t be sure, so he changed the subject. “Mrs. Sawamura said you wanted to dance earlier?”

Ichika paused, her heartbeat picking up. “Not really… I just thought everyone else was dancing. If I didn’t, I’d look antisocial.”

“Is that all?” Shirase smiled.

Under his teasing, Ichika squirmed, then gave up with a rueful smile. “Fine, I did want to. But since you wouldn’t dance with me, I didn’t have a partner.”

Shirase nudged, “Didn’t someone invite you?”

Ichika leaned in, whispering, mischievous, “He wasn’t attractive. Kinda creepy.”

Shirase burst out laughing at the flimsy excuse.

Taking a step back to give them space, he recalled the crash course Yukinoshita Haruno had given him in [Immersive Hosting]. He offered a hand with exaggerated formality.

“Might I have the honor of a dance, Miss Ichika—our future superstar?”

Ichika giggled. “Right here?”

“Where else?” He held the pose. “If we go back in, you’ll just get self-conscious. First time at an event like this, right?”

Her face went even redder.

He noticed that, too?

So taking me outside was on purpose?

She didn’t realize how sweet her smile looked just then.

On the bright balcony, the girl shyly, happily placed her hand in his.

Shirase took her wrist gently; his other hand slid to the curve of her waist. With the slow waltz drifting in from the hall, he began to guide her.

His hastily learned steps were far from perfect—but Ichika was even worse.

Stepped toes became standard.

When they lost the rhythm entirely, Shirase saved her from embarrassment by abandoning the beat and simply spinning her in playful circles.

Under the lights, the girl’s clear laughter rang out, set against Shirase’s ridiculous boasting that he was a world-class dance champion.

As the alcohol settled in, a pleasant dizziness washed over her. The small hand on his arm—maybe unconsciously, maybe not—slipped around his back.

She didn’t dare look up, imagining his surprise.

So she shut her eyes, a childish bit of self-deception. Think nothing, see nothing. Just sway with his steps.

Listening to the gentle music, Ichika greedily, desperately savored the rare warmth.

Just this once, I’ll be selfish, she told herself.

When they returned to the hall, the music had already stopped.

Some guests were heading out; others lingered to network.

Ichika’s blush never quite faded. Whether from shyness or leftover nerves, at least she could talk with Shirase as usual now—calm, natural.

As if that shy, indulgent girl from minutes ago had been a brief illusion.

Shirase glanced toward the corner where Yukinoshita Yukino had stood earlier; she was gone.

He figured she’d gone home. Just then, Ichika tugged his sleeve and whispered, “Haruno-san’s coming over—with Yukinoshita-san and… hmm, that woman must be their mother, right? She looks really young.”

Shirase followed her gaze. The Yukinoshita sisters approached—and ahead of them, a woman with unmistakable mature elegance.

Sleek black hair, precisely styled. A calm, poised aura. Tall and slender, yet with the soft curves of a grown woman. If she let her hair down and dressed younger, one might mistake her for the third “sister” of the Yukinoshita family.

—

This is a fan translation of 谁能拒绝中野二乃呢？by 六花吖六花. Rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!