From Takahiro's point of view, Akari was turning out to be far more aggressive than the "quiet, shy girl" image he'd had of her.
Of course she was still terrible at talking to people, and even now she always waited for him to speak first. That passive side was still very much there.
But every once in a while she showed an almost abnormal level of pushiness.
"......"
"S-Satomura-kun… p-please come in…"
"E-excuse the intrusion…"
Akari was clearly nervous, but Takahiro was just as bad.
It was Saturday, just before noon—lunchtime. Takahiro had come to Akari's apartment because she had invited him over for a meal.
—A girl who lives alone just invited me to her place… Is this really okay? Am I allowed to have this kind of luck!?
It all started the day before when Takahiro casually mentioned he often skipped lunch on weekends.
On days off he usually holed up playing games all day. He ate breakfast and dinner, but if he got hungry in between he just grabbed snacks—he was too lazy to cook proper lunch. The real reason, of course, was that he didn't want to stop gaming.
Akari apparently misunderstood this as him simply hating the hassle and blurted out, "Then why don't you come eat at my place?"
A beautiful girl he'd recently become very aware of had just stammered out that invitation while blushing. There was no way on earth he could turn it down with "Nah, I wanna play games."
To be fair, he had repeatedly praised her cooking and even hinted he'd love to eat it again, so he had only himself to blame.
—Still… Yoshinaga-san, you're way too trusting…
It felt nice that she trusted him, but they hadn't known each other long and didn't really know much about one another yet. Letting a guy into her apartment when she lived alone was not just a little reckless—it was extremely reckless.
Takahiro, who had consumed a perfectly age-appropriate amount of porn mags and eroge, couldn't help thinking: Is she actually hoping I'll make a move?
If she was okay with it, that would be paradise. But if she turned out to be the "I can't believe you thought that was okay" type, his life could be over. He had to keep warning himself not to give in to impulse.
—At the very least I want her to think I'm a decent guy. I should probably point out the really dangerous stuff like I did before.
She'd already told him way too easily that she lived alone. Someone needed to warn her before she got taken advantage of and ended up hurt. That someone should be him. Bonus points for being the good guy, right?
"I-I didn't make anything too fancy…"
"…This is way more than enough, Yoshinaga-san…"
When he was shown into the living room, the table was already covered with food.
Rice, miso soup, salted grilled horse mackerel, meat and potatoes, simmered beans, chilled tofu—an absolutely perfect Japanese spread. His portions were noticeably larger, and though she claimed "cooking for two isn't much more work than cooking for one," looking at all this made him want to call bullshit.
And it was actual rice.
He remembered her saying bread was her staple food. Yet here was freshly cooked, steaming rice. He'd wondered if it was instant, but he spotted a brand-new rice cooker in the corner of his vision—she must have cooked it herself.
"U-um… I thought you might like Japanese food, so I went with that…!"
She was clearly trying to look proud, but her expression was anxious as she watched his reaction.
"Thank you, Yoshinaga-san. I've been eating whatever since starting high school, so this makes me really happy."
"…Ehehe. I-I hope it's to your taste."
"Let's dig in!"
Akari's cooking was average. Nothing gourmet—she didn't obsess over it or anything.
She'd only started learning from her mom in middle school when living alone became a real possibility, whereas Takahiro had been cooking breakfast and dinner since middle school after his mom died. In terms of experience and skill, he was actually better.
But food someone made for you tastes extra good—that's a universal truth. When the cook is a cute girl, multiply that by ten.
"Mmm, delicious. You're a really good cook, Yoshinaga-san."
"R-really? I'm glad…"
Akari looked visibly relieved.
She'd been worried she'd messed something up or used an ingredient he hated.
The meal continued in a pleasant, relaxed atmosphere until they were done.
"…*burp* Thanks for the meal."
The seasoning was fine, but there was a lot of food, and the usual "you have to finish everything when you're a guest" compulsion meant he cleaned his plates. His stomach was stuffed to bursting.
"Thank you for coming."
Akari had finished first. As soon as Takahiro was done she stood up to clear the dishes.
"Ah, at least let me wash them."
"N-no no, you're the guest, Satomura-kun, just sit and relax! Oh—should I bring out dessert…?"
"…Uh, maybe later. I'm pretty full right now."
"O-okay? Then later it is."
He wondered if he should have insisted on helping despite being a guest, but this wasn't his house—he'd just accept her kindness. Besides, watching Akari in casual clothes washing dishes from behind made him feel blissfully happy. Combined with a full stomach, he started getting drowsy and didn't want to move.
◇
—How the hell did this happen…?
Takahiro couldn't even turn his head properly. He silently screamed question marks at himself while panicking.
"N… n-nn…"
Akari was obviously nervous too—her face was bright red with embarrassment.
—This is too much, Yoshinaga-san…!
Here's the situation: he was currently in Akari's bedroom, lying on the carpet with his head in her lap.
Of course he was flustered. The post-meal drowsiness had vanished instantly.
After she finished the dishes, Akari noticed Takahiro dozing off. He'd stayed up late gaming the night before and had been lightly excited all morning about coming over, so he hadn't slept much. The big meal made him sleepy fast.
Akari, trying to be considerate, had first suggested:
"U-um… w-would you like to sleep… on my bed…?"
That instantly woke him up.
He was very interested, but sleeping on a girl's bed felt way too soon.
He turned her down, but she pushed back.
"B-but you look sleepy… y-you should lie down properly!"
And somehow, after the conversation bounced around a few times, it ended up with him getting a lap pillow.
Akari's room was undeniably a girl's room—unlike the hallway.
Bed, desk, TV, computer, dresser, closet, two bookshelves along the walls, open space in the middle. Cute stickers here and there, stuffed animals—it all screamed Akari's personality.
He'd hesitated to enter a place like this, but when he did, Akari immediately looked like she was about to cry and said, "S-sorry, you didn't want to come into a room like this, right…?" so he couldn't refuse.
Then, urged by her, he lay down—and ended up in his current position.
Akari was sitting with her back against the bed, legs stretched out comfortably. Takahiro lay sideways on her lap with her skirt between them, eyes squeezed shut, afraid to move.
—Everyone calls this a lap pillow, but technically it's a thigh pillow, right…!?
He desperately tried to think about random things to avoid being too aware of her.
"You can fall asleep, it's okay…"
Both the hand gently stroking his hair and the thighs under his head were stiff—she was clearly forcing herself.
But she didn't seem unwilling, so Takahiro managed to stay put.
Actually falling asleep, though? Impossible.
—Is this really okay…? We're not even dating…
Akari's behavior felt like excessive hospitality.
She desperately wanted to take care of him. The moment he showed any sign of refusing, her face clouded over.
For a lazy guy, being spoiled like this was heaven. But Takahiro, who had read countless manga about honey traps and rip-offs, couldn't help wondering if she'd suddenly demand payment later. That made him nervous in a completely different way.
"…I'd totally pay like 500 yen for this."
"Hm…? D-did you say something?"
"…*snore*"
"…Did you fall asleep? Heehee…"
He was the one being pampered, but Akari looked perfectly happy doing the pampering, so he let himself enjoy it.
In truth, Akari felt most at ease when she was doing things for others. The trauma from being bullied had made her terrified of making people upset; she was hyper-sensitive to others' moods.
Doing things that made people happy was the only way she could feel calm. Right now her over-the-top service came from a fierce desire not to lose the first potential friend she'd made in forever.
She wasn't trying to start a romantic relationship. Just being able to talk when they saw each other was enough for her. But since she couldn't initiate conversation herself, she was terrified the topics would run out or he'd find her boring and stop approaching her. That's why she was desperately adding "value" to herself with all this hospitality.
A high school boy with his head (through a skirt) on a high school girl's thighs. No healthy teenage guy could stay calm in this situation. He was terrified of accidentally touching something if he moved, yet he didn't want to leave either. He spent about ten minutes in tortured bliss.
"…Huh? S-Satomura-kun…?"
When the strain finally became too much and he sat up, Akari looked puzzled.
"Y-you're done already…?"
Ten minutes was too short for a proper nap. But his drowsiness had long since vanished.
"Ah, yeah. Somehow I'm… totally awake now."
"I-I see… Was my lap pillow… uncomfortable…?"
"Uh—no, well… maybe a little?"
He hadn't meant it negatively. A normal pillow is definitely more comfortable for sleeping, but he'd pay good money for Akari's lap pillow. He actually felt guilty for getting it for free.
He'd said it to hide his embarrassment and to stop himself from giving in to dangerous impulses—like asking for more.
But Akari took it completely wrong.
"Ueh— I-I'm sorry! I couldn't even give a proper lap pillow, I'm so sorry! What did I do wrong…? Oh—oh no…!"
"Wai—!?"
She suddenly reached out and touched his cheek with her fingertips. Her slender fingers brushed his skin; Takahiro froze, letting her do whatever.
"Ah… there's a mark…"
The part of his cheek that had been pressed against her skirt had faint crease lines. Nothing to worry about—happens all the time with normal pillows if you sleep funny.
"Satomura-kun."
"Y-yes!?"
"…N-next time… I'll… take off my skirt…"
"E-EHHHH!?"
"…S-so… could you let me… give you a lap pillow again… some other time…?"
"Some other time…"
"…Is that… no good…?"
"…It's not no good at all. Please, I'm looking forward to it."
Is that kind of "next time" even allowed to exist!? He wanted to shout, but all that came out was eager acceptance.
"Phew… I'm so glad…"
"......"
With an approach like that, it was only natural Takahiro thought: This girl is definitely into me.
◇
"Yoshinaga-san, thanks for today. Lunch was amazing. And talking with you was really fun."
It was almost 4 p.m. Takahiro told her he should probably head home soon.
If he overstayed, he had a feeling she'd tell him to stay for dinner too. And if that happened, he might end up staying until night—which felt like it could lead to all sorts of problems.
"Ehehe… I love cooking. If you want, Satomura-kun… please come eat again…?"
"Yeah, definitely."
"Um… you can come every day if you want."
"Wai—eh—"
"Morning or night, anytime is fine! It's no trouble at all. If there's anything you want me to make, just say it—I'll do my best…!"
"......"
If she'd said it jokingly, he could have laughed it off. But she was dead serious. It didn't even feel like polite small talk.
Today's lunch had already been over the top, and with the lap pillow and now this invitation—he had no idea why she was going so far.
The most convincing reason was that she liked him. But the rational part of his brain whispered: Maybe she acts like this with anyone she gets a little close to.
—You're really vulnerable, Yoshinaga-san…
Takahiro felt her dangerous openness more strongly than ever as he left.