This time it was just an ordinary hug—one quick embrace and then they separated.
Not that suffocating kind of tight hug that made it hard to breathe.
Sober, Tashiro-san still kept her sense of propriety. She even went so far as to offer a deliberate explanation afterward.
"Akira-kun, don't get the wrong idea. Your onee-san isn't that easy. It's just… I really am grateful to you this time, and I wanted to do something for you. But honestly, I don't have anything of real value to give…"
"So you can only repay me with your body?"
Now that he was relaxed, Kuroba Akira slipped back into his habitual dirty-mouthed banter.
His social skills worked like this: say human words to humans, ghost words to ghosts—always tailor the flavor to the person in front of him.
With someone easygoing like Class Rep, he could talk naturally. Facing someone serious like Shion, his tone would turn serious too.
And with a woman who treated him like a little brother to tease—a woman with full onee-san flavor like Tashiro-san—of course he wasn't going to be the one to back down from returning the teasing.
"Heh… can you even afford to keep your onee-san?"
"Not right now. But who knows about the future?"
If the things Tashiro-san had murmured in her drunken sleep last night were her true feelings, and her monthly asking price was only 200,000 yen… that was actually worth considering.
After all, in her dream talk she'd said she'd even be willing to work as a maid. And Akira had already planned that, when he had money, he'd hire a proper professional maid to handle his daily life—of course, a legitimate maid.
If he could enjoy big, soft oppai pressed up against him every day, that salary would be money well spent. You had to know—just one "facial cleanser" service at an adult-themed club could easily run you more than that.
"Then I'll look forward to you making it big and keeping your onee-san. I'd also love to escape my sea of suffering soon."
Her tone was still mostly playful, clearly not believing Akira could really get rich.
Akira didn't bother explaining. The plan to make money was already in motion. Once the money was in hand, he'd have the confidence—and hopefully she wouldn't forget what she'd said.
Speaking of money, Tashiro-san tapped her chin, eyes going distant with memory.
"Now that I think of it, I talked with Yu-san before. In his previous life, he seems to have been a very impressive and successful man—very rich. But this life of his turned out miserable. He owes a huge debt… even worse off than me."
"Oh?"
So Hijikata-san had been a big boss in his last life?
Akira had assumed Hijikata had also been a worn-out programmer, working overtime until he collapsed—just like himself.
Didn't expect Hijikata-san to be hiding that. So how did he die? Peacefully in bed?
And then, on his deathbed, realizing money was just worldly possessions, that you can't take it with you, maybe he'd wished, I'd give all my wealth to live life again… and then actually got reborn?
Only this time, the price was starting life buried under crushing debt—hell-difficulty right from the start. Might've been better not to be reborn at all.
Compared to him, Akira suddenly felt like being broke and missing his language pack was just a small inconvenience.
"But he's much braver than me. Even faced with such a bleak life, he confronts it head-on… Unlike me… ah…"
Benika sighed in self-deprecation, but quickly pulled herself together and asked Akira:
"So, Akira-kun, are you going to make games again this life?"
"No…"
I plan to live off a sugar mama.
But there was no way he could say that shameless goal out loud.
And compared to Hijikata-san and Tashiro-san, who were still fighting to survive, living like that just felt too disrespectful.
So he simply talked about what he was doing now.
"I'm writing a novel. Planning to make money from it."
Tashiro-san immediately perked up, looking at him with new eyes.
"Writing a novel! That's amazing! I really admire creators with wild imaginations!"
"I just write third-rate stuff."
After all, light novels weren't traditional literature—they were entertainment novels, "products" made to amuse.
From that perspective, Akira felt he was less a creator and more a service provider.
As long as the readers enjoyed themselves and were willing to pay for the books, that was what mattered.
"Don't belittle yourself. I used to love reading novels. The more you read, the more you understand the author's inner world. So I know very well—creators are incredible people. It's just a pity… the novels I can read are few and far between now…"
"Hmm?"
That was an odd way to put it—not that she rarely read novels, but that there were very few she could read. Had her standards gone up?
It was true—once your reading ability improved, the brainless novels you once binge-read all night became unreadable. Formulaic, templated stories became tiresome—you didn't even want to look at them.
But as someone who made a living in this industry, Akira knew novels had to stay grounded. You always had to consider the average reader. Blindly chasing highbrow taste would just get you applause without sales—or maybe not even applause.
It was also easy to end up with eyes higher than your hands, having read countless good works but producing nothing but garbage when you actually wrote.
"It's nothing. These days I can just read whatever I want. Though, come to think of it, it really has been a long time since I last read a novel…"
Benika's smile brightened again as she thanked Akira.
"Thank you, Akira-kun. You've reminded your onee-san of an old hobby!"
In just this short while, she'd already thanked him so many times Akira was starting to feel embarrassed.
"Then how about another thank-you hug?"
Still following her earlier line, Tashiro-san wasn't satisfied with verbal gratitude—she had to express it physically too.
Akira didn't mind hugging her more, but he still found it odd.
"Tashiro-san, do you have a habit of hugging everyone you see?"
"Quite the opposite. I'm trying to use this chance to slowly get used to touching a man's body."
"Huh?"
"Don't be fooled by appearances—your onee-san here can't handle men at all."
Yeah right!
If she were dealing with a real virgin, he'd already be utterly enchanted by her!
Granted… Akira was still a virgin himself. But an old virgin wasn't as easily swayed as a fresh one!
"So you don't even count me as a man?"
"You're still a little boy, hehe."
Damn it! She was looking down on him!
Akira almost wanted to whip out his longsword right then and spin it in circles—prove with a healthy, fully-grown length that he was no "little" boy.
But that was only a thought. Even shameless Akira wouldn't go that far.
Eh… fine, a kid is a kid. A kid has the perfect excuse to openly enjoy these big, soft blessings, right?
After all, that certain brat from the Nohara family was always using his little-kid status to cop a feel from older sisters.
No wonder so many guys became breast men—it was all thanks to early "education" from "big" sisters.