After Akira's round of mental adjustment, Nanami's mood had become much more stable.
The tense expression on her face also softened a little. Though she still showed little emotion, at least she no longer gave off that icy feeling.
She was still a bit hung up on why Akira had asked for her hand earlier. "Is there something you want me to do, Ogiwara-san?"
Akira waved it off. "No, nothing."
Nanami couldn't help but feel she was still far from being a qualified maid.
According to Hayasaka Ai, a maid should understand her master's thoughts—sometimes even better than the master himself—so she could assist and offer advice when needed.
And yet she hadn't even understood such a small gesture from Akira.
This left her a little dejected, though not overly so. In her mind, Akira was still far too lofty a figure. It would be strange if she could easily read his thoughts.
Glancing at the time, Nanami took off her gloves, planning to head to the kitchen to prep ingredients for dinner.
But before leaving, she asked out of habit, "Will Miss Kasumigaoka be coming tonight?"
"Hmm?"
Only then did Akira recall something he wasn't sure counted as standing someone up.
Technically, it didn't—after all, that outing was supposed to be the price of something. And since the condition requiring payment no longer existed, the so-called price shouldn't either.
Still, after Utaha had agreed to attend the fireworks festival, she hadn't said she wasn't going anymore.
She had prepared and waited. Whether from the perspective of someone planning to watch fireworks with a companion, or of a man who ought to invite a woman, Akira should've at least told her the time and place.
But he didn't. He never extended the invitation. And all her calls had been blocked due to the line being busy.
Later, although he hadn't intended to do anything with Hayasaka Ai at the hotel, there were private matters to discuss—so he used the excuse of "already having plans" to turn Utaha down.
Knowing her temperament, she was probably furious. Even if not furious, she was surely upset.
Akira let out a faint sigh. "She didn't say she's coming. Probably won't be here these next few days either."
Nanami's eyes sharpened slightly.
She immediately sensed something and felt like this might be her chance to finally read her master's thoughts and ease his troubles.
"Did something happen during the fireworks festival yesterday?" she asked softly.
"Something… I wouldn't call it a conflict." Akira struggled to phrase it.
"Just a misunderstanding, maybe. If anyone's at fault, I guess it's me."
He couldn't go into too much detail, of course. Given that what happened involved Nanami's current "mentor," telling her about it would be far too much for her to handle.
But to Nanami, this just confirmed her assumption.
She remembered the day she first met Akira—when she was scolded and cried in the hospital.
Back then, Akira had said, "I'm not good at comforting girls," and left the task to Utaha.
Later, in the car, Utaha had made a comment like, "You can so easily make a deal for a high school girl to be your mistress, and yet you can't even manage a simple apology?" forcing Akira to apologize.
Nanami didn't think he'd done anything wrong back then, but she still formed the impression: when it comes to certain awkward situations, even someone as bold as Akira-san has trouble finding the right words.
So she figured that something similarly awkward must've happened during the fireworks.
Otherwise, Akira—who always admitted fault so easily—would've just said so if it were truly his mistake.
Her logic wasn't perfect, but her conclusion was spot on.
"Then why not invite Miss Kasumigaoka to dinner tonight?" Nanami offered gently.
It was, undeniably, a good idea.
Especially after Utaha had set aside her pride and dignity to plead for a sense of equality from Akira, he could no longer look at her like some pitiful, discarded thing.
He could no longer act like he was tossing her scraps from above.
Even if he didn't owe her an apology, it was an awkward matter. So inviting her to dinner was a perfect, mutual unspoken gesture to smooth things over.
As Akira mulled it over, Nanami added, "If you don't mind, Ogiwara-san, I'll give Miss Kasumigaoka a call?"
She had already gone that far—Akira couldn't very well act like some stubborn tsundere and embarrass himself.
He shrugged. "Alright. But no need, I'll call her."
Nanami smiled faintly and headed to the kitchen, feeling like she'd finally fulfilled her role.
Akira dialed Utaha's number.
"Hello, Miss Kasumigaoka. Want to come over for dinner tonight?"
"Oh? If I'm not mistaken, this would count as an invitation to be your guest—meaning no room fee tonight?"
"Of course. Since you're a guest, it's only natural the lodging is free. The cat, too."
"This will be the first time I'm visiting as an actual guest? How exciting. Got it. Thank you for the invitation—I'll be there before dinner."
When the call ended, Akira finally felt one little weight lift off his shoulders.
…
Utaha didn't arrive late.
After all, it wouldn't be polite to keep the host waiting. She let herself in, changed her shoes, and greeted Akira as usual.
Seeing her relaxed smile, Akira raised an eyebrow. "I thought you'd be angrier."
"Angry? Of course not." Utaha set down her bag with her laptop, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and smiled sweetly.
"A mistress only has so much right to be angry. Within that limit, she should act out a bit to earn some 'favor'—but if she crosses that line, she has to pretend nothing happened. Isn't that right?"
This time, Akira wasn't just surprised—he was taken aback.
"That's not wrong. Smart thinking. The only issue is… aren't you jumping the gun a bit with that 'mistress' title?"
"I thought it over. What other identity can I even use to interact with you right now? A friend? I'm clearly not qualified."
She said this lightly, casually—like she wasn't saying something heavy at all.
And that troubled Akira. "A mistress I can't touch, huh…"
"That's right. Please wait a little longer, Ogiwara-san."
Utaha's smile faded a little. She spoke quietly. "I'm still not ready."
In Akira's world, this would be called a mental block. In more everyday terms, it was a psychological hurdle, or just trauma.
He understood. He wasn't in a rush. Sure, forceful play could be its own kind of thrill—but he preferred that to stay in the realm of roleplay.
Besides, he had other options. According to a prior agreement, Saturday night—just two days away—he'd be getting a tasty midnight snack delivered to his door.
"I get it. No pressure." Akira went back to petting Kuro's belly. "Also… I really did think you weren't coming yesterday. Sorry."
If it's beyond what a mistress should get angry about, then you have to pretend nothing happened.
Which really meant—she was furious, but had to swallow it.
Better soothe her now. Otherwise, one day, that bite would come—and depending on the timing, it could be a disaster.
Sure enough, "chomp"—Kuro bit him, forcing Akira to move his hand to the cat's head, rubbing its cheeks and ears until its mood smoothed out and it started licking him again.
Utaha's eyes flickered, but she didn't comment.
After a moment, watching his skilled hand movements, she suddenly said, "You know… the technique you taught me for calming cats… it always felt oddly familiar."
Akira casually turned his head away. "Oh? Maybe you saw it online."
Utaha slowly leaned in close, her voice light and casual as she asked, "There's this saying that girls are just like cats—cute and temperamental. What do you think about that, Ogiwara-san?"
Akira scoffed, "Nonsense. Nanami is clearly a dog-type."
Utaha bent down, brought her lips near his ear, and asked—one word at a time, softly:
"Then… what about… me?"
Akira sadly realized—his trick for fooling cats had, in the end, been exposed.
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