"It was also my first time drinking that much… Ai, this time I really was careless."
Tashiro Benika showed a gentle onee-san smile, full of elegance, and thanked him once again.
"Good thing it was you who found me, Akira-kun. Otherwise, I might have really met with some misfortune…"
After all, there were people who specifically went out "corpse-hunting." For a woman drunk to the point of losing consciousness, the risk of losing her body was very real.
Kuroba Akira shook his head, shifting the credit to the little cat.
"You should thank Kuroo, Tashiro-san. It was the one who led me to where you'd passed out under the utility pole."
"Kuroo? So that cat really does have a spirit about it… Could it actually be a divine incarnation?"
Murmuring to herself, Tashiro-san suddenly seemed to remember something important. She grabbed Akira's shoulders, asking in an anxious tone:
"That's right! My shoes! Akira-kun, did you see my shoes? The dark red high heels with the thin heel?"
"Don't worry, they're not lost. I brought them back for you—they're in the entranceway."
Remembering how he'd brought them back, Akira felt the urge to stick his tongue out in embarrassment.
Sure, there were plenty of foot fetishists whose XP involved high heels—some could even use them as food trays—but Akira was a stockings man. He couldn't get the appeal of leather's texture; it just felt hard against the tongue, and he had no interest in filling a heel with protein.
"You were already totally out of it, yet still worrying about those shoes. I told you I'd come back for them later, but you wouldn't agree."
Tashiro Benika looked a bit embarrassed.
"Sorry… but those shoes are really important to me…"
Then she asked curiously:
"So how did you bring them back?"
"Uh…"
Akira regretted even mentioning the details—because his method really was a little… indecent.
He tried to divert the conversation entirely.
"Come to think of it, why are those shoes so important to you, Tashiro-san? Were they a gift from someone?"
Tashiro-san shook her head, speaking in a tone full of implication.
"No… I bought them for myself. But yes, they have special meaning."
Then, still interested, she asked again:
"So I really am grateful to you for bringing them back, Akira-kun. But… how did you do it?"
Damn it, there's no avoiding this topic, is there?
Akira could only confess his "crime" right to her face.
"Listen, Tashiro-san, let me explain. You were clinging to me for dear life—I couldn't carry you on my back, and just holding you was already exhausting. The shoes were a bit big, so I couldn't put them back on you, and you wouldn't hold them for me. I had nowhere to put them on myself—anywhere I hung them, they'd fall off. I honestly couldn't free my hands, so I just…"
"So?"
Her half-smile was pure older-sister-teasing-younger-boy.
"So I just… carried them back in my mouth."
Shit! What was this, some kind of punishment game? It felt like trying to explain to your parents that you were just doing warm-up exercises in your room, not, uh, self-generating electricity.
Though a little mortified, Akira still patted his chest seriously and assured her:
"But I promise I didn't get any drool on them! And I don't think I bit them hard enough to damage them!"
Tashiro-san showed no disgust at all—in fact, she burst out laughing so hard she clutched her stomach.
"Hahaha! You actually carried them in your mouth… You could have just gone back for them later…"
She wiped tears of laughter from the corner of her eyes, then looked at Akira with a mix of affection and appreciation.
"Akira-kun, you're so straightforward. Really, you're just too cute."
"Uh…"
With the mental age of a middle-aged man, Akira didn't feel happy being called cute. Honestly, what guy would be happy being called that—unless his heart had already been magnetized?
Besides, since they were both transmigrators, she should know his real age was older than his appearance.
Then again, who knew if other transmigrators had also found their physical age reset. Maybe Tashiro-san had been twenty-four before and after crossing over.
That would make him her senpai.
Recalling his own miserable end as a corporate slave in a black company, Akira felt an urge to persuade her.
"How should I put it… Tashiro-san, I used to be an unlucky guy tortured by work, and in the end met the worst fate. Sure, it brought me to this world, but it's not like it was voluntary…"
He figured she'd understand what he meant by now. Dropping dead from overwork wasn't exactly a glorious past worth mentioning.
"I don't have the right to interfere with your life… But if you really feel you can't go on, I think giving up is also a choice."
Telling someone to quit was actually pretty irresponsible, so he tried to phrase it gently.
Every corporate slave wanted release. But why didn't they act? Because losing the job meant losing their livelihood.
Yes, quitting was a brief relief—but then what?
Go home and leech off family?
Only those with the resolve or another path could afford to quit. Most ordinary people had no second option.
Damn life's game won't even give you an extra dialogue choice.
Tashiro Benika listened quietly, her expression like a still pond.
She didn't need anyone's guidance—she wasn't lost.
"I understand what you mean. Thank you, Akira-kun."
Still, she appreciated his concern. In this world, precious few cared about her; only the Kobayashi household companions seemed to give a damn whether she lived or died.
"But I don't yet have the courage to give up… When I do, I think I'll walk away."
She knew her own situation better than anyone.
It wasn't that she didn't want to fix her problems—it was just that they weren't the kind of problems that could be solved quickly.
People needed time to change themselves.
Still, she found herself curious about this boy who was nine years younger than her.
"Speaking of which, we've been living together, but we've never really talked properly. Akira-kun, what did you do before?"
Akira knew she was asking about his past life.
Since they were all transmigrators, and his job wasn't anything worth hiding, he just answered naturally.
"I worked at a game company—just a bottom-rung screw-turner."
"Making games? That's impressive. That must require a high degree, right?"
"Not really… A degree's just the entry ticket. Once you're working, no one cares what university you came from—they only care about your ability."
"That's still impressive. Your onee-san here has a low education level—I only graduated from a technical college… Do you look down on women with that background?"
It sounded less like inferiority and more like self-deprecation.
"I don't have any prejudice about that."
"Heh, you're more mature than I thought. I've met plenty of people who looked down on me for my lack of schooling."
"Meh… you don't need to care about people like that. Just a bunch of self-satisfied trash."
At his sharp remark, Tashiro-san widened her eyes in exaggerated admiration.
"Wow… Akira-kun, you're so carefree…"
Then, smiling knowingly, she extended her arms toward him.
"Onee-san likes people like you. Come on—give me a hug."
"…"
I've told you, my mental age is already up there…
But still...
What man says no to a hug from a beauty?
A hug is a hug.
Akira embraced Tashiro Benika once more—this time, she was sober, and it was she who initiated. Completely legitimate.
This time, not only did he get to look at the lightning, he got to feel it with his own body.
Mm… round, smooth, big, and soft! The only drawback is the heavy reek of alcohol…
What's wrong with liking big oppai? It's an irresistible primal urge!
At that moment, Akira suddenly felt—though he was a thigh man and an ass man...
Breasts… seemed pretty nice too.
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everyone is on vacation so no character notes this week
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