(The Aftermath of a High-Stakes Wager)
Asato Hitomi, having observed the entire fiery duel of declarations, now wore an amused, almost serene smile. She turned to her flustered friend and gently teased, "My, my. Our Moe has entered her truly popular phase, hasn't she? Look at how fiercely they both wish to claim you for their side."
"Fweh… H-Hitomi-chaaan…!"
Overwhelmed by shyness, Aizono Moe buried her burning forehead into Asato Hitomi's shoulder, patting her other arm like a bashful, scolded kitten. It was merely the kind of intimate, platonic contact common between close girls, devoid of any deeper implication.
Yet, more than her own sudden 'popularity,' Aizono Moe was far more concerned about the freshly sparked conflict. She lifted her head, worry painting her delicate features. "Hitomi-chan… Is it really okay to just let them go on like that?"
Asato Hitomi responded by gently stroking Moe's hair, her smile taking on a faintly maternal quality. "It's perfectly fine. Let's leave it to Kuroha-kun."
She trusted Kuroha Akira's character. He wasn't the type to make such grand declarations lightly—just as his earlier, unexpected proposal to her had demonstrated. He possessed a quality that was simple in concept but rare in practice: he kept his word.
"But… that wager they made…" Moe fretted.
Even if neither side succeeded in getting published, the duel would simply fizzle out. But if one side did win… the resolution would be nothing short of catastrophic. Knowing Shirai Shiori's unyielding personality, if she emerged victorious, she would grant no quarter. The image of a boy being forced to run naked around the school track… just the thought was enough to make Moe's cheeks blaze anew.
Secretly, Aizono Moe found herself hoping Kuroha Akira would win. Kuroha-kun seems much more gentle… He probably wouldn't force Shiori into such a humiliating position.
"Perhaps this very duel will bring Shiori and Kuroha-kun closer," Hitomi mused optimistically. "Isn't there a saying? 'No discord, no concord.'"
"Will it… really turn out that well…?"
"I believe so. After all, Kuroha-kun became 'one' with the boys in class rather quickly today, didn't he?"
Though in that particular instance, 'becoming one' had been a rather… literal process.
Having sealed the wager, Kuroha Akira sensed that his continued presence would only solidify the room's stiffness. He stood, ready to make his exit.
"I'll take my leave for today, then, Class President."
"Won't you stay a little longer?"
"Well… given the circumstances, I should return and begin my preparations in earnest. I imagine Shirai-san would prefer I not disrupt her… creative flow."
"…Hmph."
Shirai Shiori offered only a noncommittal snort. Whether Kuroha Akira was present or not was irrelevant—she wouldn't waste another second of thought on him. Her mind was already racing, sifting through potential themes suitable for a light novel.
I will win. And then I will have him expelled! The Literary Club has no need for boys!
Still, the idea of him lingering to tease Moe or engage in frivolous banter with Hitomi was irksome. Perhaps his departure was for the best.If he wouldn't leave, she would have.
"You see? Shirai-san doesn't seem to welcome my presence either. Let's reconvene once we have a winner. Then I can come and go from the Literary Club openly, and no one should have any objections. Right?"
"..."
Talking as if victory is already his…! Shirai Shiori gritted her teeth, frustration simmering. But she recognized this for what it was—a blatant attempt to disrupt her mental state. The best counter was silence. If she couldn't hear it, it didn't exist!
Kuroha Akira waved a casual goodbye to the Class President and Aizono Moe. Then, with a final, impish chuckle aimed at his rival, he turned to leave the clubroom.
"I eagerly await your masterpiece, Shirai-san. Oh, and a little personal suggestion? If you're writing a light novel, you might find inspiration by revisiting your own chuunibyou-era works. Just a thought!"
Even in retreat, he launched one last psychological missile.
"Y-you…! Go to hell!!"
Enraged beyond words, Shirai Shiori couldn't bring herself to throw the book in her hand. Instead, she yanked off one of her indoor shoes and hurled it at the retreating figure.
Kuroha Akira, already stepping into the hallway, sensed the projectile. With a practiced, almost lazy motion, he caught the shoe flying toward his face. Then, in a move designed purely to maximize provocation, he brought it to his nose and took an exaggerated sniff."My, my… this fragrance. It truly is… suffused with the aroma of books."
"...!!!!"
Shirai Shiori saw red, her entire body trembling with indignant fury. The sheer audacity!
Having achieved his goal of thoroughly flustering his opponent, Kuroha Akira tossed the shoe back into the room and made a swift escape.
"See you tomorrow! Ja ne~!"
Teasing girls really is infinitely more enjoyable than being teased, he reflected with deep satisfaction.
Incidentally, there was, of course, no 'scent of books' in the shoe. Only the faint, stuffy, slightly tangy odor of fabric and a hint of warmth… After all, wearing opaque tights on a warm day was bound to lead to a little moisture. It was fortunate she was a bookish girl who spent her days sedentary; her feet likely didn't sweat much.
If she were from a sports club… he didn't even want to imagine. Their socks are probably soaked through with 'athletic juice.' Those girls complain about the boys in the club building, but they're often just as potent…
****
Shaking off the amusing aftermath, Kuroha Akira left the club building and headed back to his classroom to retrieve his bag.
As he slid the door open, he was greeted by the sight of Sumitomo Ryota perched casually on his desk, deep in conversation with Fujiyoshi Michio. Spotting Akira, Ryota raised a hand in a boisterous greeting."Yo! A-kun! You're back!""…Uh, Sumitomo-san?"'A-kun'? Since when are we on nickname terms?"Just call me Ryota! Friends go by first names, right?""..."Are we friends already?
This guy's capacity for instant familiarity somehow surpassed even the Class President's. And this was someone he'd literally just… engaged with physically earlier. It was mildly terrifying.
Kuroha Akira walked over, a questioning look on his face. "Weren't you heading out with your group?"
"Ah, they said they were going bowling. Not really my scene, so I skipped it." Ryota leaned forward, eyes sparkling with gossip-fueled curiosity. "So, A-kun! You just came from the Literary Club, right?"
"Yeah."
"Sigh…"
A profound, melancholic sigh escaped Sumitomo Ryota, no doubt born from his own long-frustrated desire to join that very club. "So? How was it?"
"How was what?"
"The Literary Club, of course! What else?!"
"It was just normal club activities.""Don't give me that! Even with few members, the three girls there—Hitomi included—are all top-tier beauties in our year! A guy walking into a place like that… You must've been living the dream, surrounded on all sides!"
"Do you think the Literary Club is a hostess club…?" Kuroha Akira deadpanned, rolling his eyes as he slid into his seat. "What were you two talking about, anyway?"
"Just about you, Akira-kun," Ryota said with a grin. "I came back for my bag and found Michio here, so I asked him about you. Is it true? You really had aphasia before?"
"You could say that…"Not only is he using a nickname for me, he's already calling Fujiyoshi 'Michio'? The sheer, unchecked force of Ryota's sociability was a social phenomenon unto itself. No wonder he had so many 'friends.'
Fujiyoshi Michio, looking somewhat bashful, scratched the back of his head and added, "Y-yes, we were talking about you, Kuroha-san. But… I only really started talking to you today, so I don't know much. Instead, I heard from Ryota here about what happened between you two at noon…"
Kuroha Akira was momentarily speechless. This guy gets beaten up and then goes around telling people about it? Doesn't he feel any shame?
In a strange way, Sumitomo Ryota was indeed a remarkable character. His resilience—or perhaps his sheer lack of embarrassment—was something to behold. At the very least, he had a heart big enough to bounce back from anything.