After a few moments, Kuroha Akira withdrew his hand. He knew better than to overstay his welcome, even in a gesture as bizarrely innocent as this.
Asato Hitomi wore an expression of faint, lingering disappointment, which she masked by tilting her head and using her right hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her left ear. The movement naturally brought her right forearm up to partially obscure her face—a classic, almost reflexive gesture of demure concealment.
"By the way, Class Monitor," Akira began, steering the conversation onto safer, if still treacherous, ground. "I heard that when you were little, you said you'd only make bento for your future husband…"
"Yes, I did say something like that," she confirmed without missing a beat. There was no feigned surprise, no 'Did I really?' She remembered.
"Actually, back then, after they heard I was learning to cook, they kept pestering me to make food for them. I found it troublesome, so I just said I'd only cook for my future husband to get them to stop."
"Yeah, I pretty much figured it was something like that… But Sumitomo Ryota took it so seriously he thought I was your fiancé."
"I see… Though, it's not that Sumitomo-kun misunderstood completely. What I said back then wasn't entirely an excuse. I had, in fact, made up my mind at the time that I would only cook for my future husband."
"Class Monitor, if you say things like that now, I'll get the wrong idea too. But we're just in a transactional relationship, right?"
"Isn't marriage essentially a transactional relationship as well?"
Akira rolled his eyes skyward. While her words cynically mirrored his own worldview, he could tell she wasn't being entirely serious. She'd slipped back into her favorite mode: teasing the resident virgin boy, just like her infamous 'Want to see my panties?' gambit.
But he couldn't just take this lying down! He had to counter-attack!
"In that case, Class Monitor," he said, striking a pose of mock seriousness. "Will you marry me?"
Asato Hitomi tilted her head, appearing to give the proposal genuine consideration. After a suitably dramatic pause, she replied, "Hmm… If Kuroha-kun is willing to be adopted into my family, I wouldn't mind."
"I'd mind very much."
"What a shame. My family probably wouldn't allow me to take my husband's surname. But… if I'm still unmarried by the time I'm thirty, my family will have likely given up on me. At that point, if you're also still single, Kuroha-kun, I'll marry you."
"Oh, right, that. The classic 'ambiguous promise between long-term opposite-sex friends'—if we're both alone at thirty, we'll get together. But in every story, one of them ends up marrying someone else right after making that promise."
"Will you get married quickly, Kuroha-kun?"
"Heh heh. I'm a man destined to walk the path of the Great Magician." After all, in his previous life, he'd come perilously close to that exalted, if lonely, 30-year-old milestone of virginity.
Understanding his self-deprecating joke, Hitomi responded with a smile that was pure, saintly benevolence. "Then, how about this? Marriage is still too far off, too uncertain. Let's make a different promise. If you haven't had… that kind of experience by the time you're thirty, Kuroha-kun, I'll help you graduate."
"Whoa. I'm genuinely touched. I suddenly feel motivated to live until thirty."
"And until then, I'll maintain my own purity as well. I wouldn't want to defile your body, Kuroha-kun."
Is she just assuming I'll stay a virgin until thirty?!
Self-deprecation was one thing, but having it assumed by someone else—especially a beautiful girl—felt like a curse being laid upon him. This had crossed from teasing into spiritually heavy territory.
"The weight of this promise just multiplied by a factor of ten. Class Monitor, please don't say such heavy things, even as a joke. It's terrifying."
Though, about three-quarters of that wasn't a joke… Asato Hitomi thought to herself. Outwardly, she merely offered a tactful observation. "Kuroha-kun's outlook on life is truly… light and airy."
"Just say I'm frivolous; I won't get angry. That's exactly the kind of person I am."
Akira stood up, stretching his limbs. A pleasant, post-meal drowsiness was setting in, but the day's obligations weren't over yet.
Asato Hitomi neatly packed away the bento box and turned to him. "Well then, Kuroha-kun, it's about time we headed to the Literary Club activity room. The other two should already be there."
"Oh, right. Speaking of which, are the other two Literary Club members also your 'friends,' Class Monitor?"
"Yes. We all attended the same all-girls middle school. That's where I met them, and we became very close. Later, we promised to apply to this high school together, and all three of us got in. It's just a shame we weren't placed in the same class; they're both in Class 3."
"I see." If they were individuals the Class Monitor had officially recognized as 'friends,' they were likely trustworthy—or at least, met her uniquely intense criteria.
"Let's go meet them now. I think you'll definitely get along with them, Kuroha-kun."
"You think so?"
"Yes. Because, from a certain perspective, they might have even more in common with you than I do."
"Oh?"
Now that piqued his curiosity. More in common with him? In what way? In… lewdness?
Carrying this newfound intrigue, Kuroha Akira followed Asato Hitomi out of the main building and across the campus toward the club annex.
The club building was, in fact, the school's old main building. Though renovated, it bore the dignified wear of age, standing only four stories tall. At least it was sturdy reinforced concrete, not the creaky wooden deathtrap favored by horror movie directors.
Having been a lifelong member of the illustrious 'Go-Home Club,' Akira had never set foot inside. The moment he entered, he was assaulted by a potent, communal aroma of adolescent sweat.
The first floor was evidently the locker room nexus for all the sports clubs—hence the olfactory ambush. He'd heard rumors that the girls' clubs had filed complaints about the pervasive smell and 'peeping risks,' petitioning the student council to relocate their changing facilities to the second floor. The request was still, apparently, under 'review.'
Ascending to the second floor brought significant relief. This level housed the activity rooms for the school's myriad smaller, less prestigious, or newly formed clubs. The elite organizations—the Soccer Club, Kendo Club, Flower Arrangement Club, Orchestra—all boasted their own dedicated facilities elsewhere on campus, a clear indicator of the school's favoritism toward clubs that could bring glory in national competitions.
The Literary Club resided at the very end of the second-floor hallway, tucked into an inconspicuous corner.
Asato Hitomi led the way, opening the door to the activity room. Inside, two pairs of eyes immediately turned to meet them.
"Alright, let me introduce you," Hitomi said, her voice bright and official. "This is our new Literary Club member, Kuroha Akira-kun."
"Yo." Akira raised a hand in a casual, half-hearted greeting.
"And Kuroha-kun, these are your future companions. The adorable girl on the left—whose chest is, admittedly, even more impressive than mine—is Aizono Moe."
"Eek…! Hitomi-chan…! D-Don't say that… my chest isn't that…" The girl in question hunched her shoulders defensively, her voice a soft, flustered whisper as she tried to inconspicuously shield her considerable assets.
So, the Class Monitor's earlier comment about a bustier member wasn't an exaggeration. The scale was indeed comparable to Tomita Haruka, the athletic girl he'd seen jogging that morning—the kind of volume that promised independent motion. But unlike the vibrant, sun-kissed Tomita, Aizono Moe possessed a complexion even paler than Shinomiya's, a delicate, almost sickly translucence that spoke of a life spent largely indoors.
"And this is Shirai Shiori. I believe you two have met before, Kuroha-kun?"
"Oh… yeah. We have."
"…"
The other girl offered only the faintest of nods in acknowledgment, her demeanor cool and detached.
Kuroha Akira had indeed met her before. To be precise, he had seen this girl almost every single day during the previous semester.
Because she was the school librarian.