Kuroba Akira, silenced by the class president's relentless parade of tempting perks, didn't show any excitement or flinch in anticipation. Instead, he sighed.
He admitted the benefits were undeniably appealing. If he were a fifteen-year-old boy, he'd probably be nodding frantically, already hooked.
Unfortunately, his mental age was doubled—he was far from innocent.
Even genuine kindness made him suspicious.
"Is the Literature Club really that important? Worth putting in so much effort?"
"It is important. But it's because it's you, Kuroba-kun, that I'm going all out to invite you."
"Hah…"
Kuroba Akira sighed again. Her words carried genuine attention, but all he could do was give a bitter smile.
He knew too well that beneath every sweet word was some self-interest.
Ordinary students might not notice, but Hitomi Anri was clearly more mature than her peers. Everything she said had intent behind it.
Talking with the class president was interesting. She probably meant no harm, just had a keen sense of social awareness and knew how to flatter others.
But her emotionally manipulative style made Kuroba Akira uneasy, reminding him of a scheming ex-boss from his previous life—smooth words, only to turn on people later.
"Class president, you don't need to say things just to please me. Others might feel flattered, but with me, it only backfires."
"…"
The atmosphere shifted instantly.
Even in the sweltering summer heat, Kuroba Akira felt a chill run down his spine.
He turned his head and noticed that at the vending machine, the class president had lowered hers, her bangs casting shadows over her face, hiding her expression.
"Class president?"
"It's… really hot today, isn't it?"
She lifted her head again, smiling, but Kuroba Akira noticed her smile was now more formal, like a convenience store cashier's polite grin—emotionless.
Hitomi Anri pulled a black-and-white striped coin purse from her pocket and took out a folded, crisp 1,000 yen bill, inserting it into the machine. The light lit up, yet she didn't select a drink.
"Kuroba-san, the Literature Club is my only sanctuary. I can't let it disappear."
Her honorific changed—from "-kun" to "-san"—signaling she had dropped the pretense, no longer trying to charm him.
And she spoke frankly about why she poured herself into preserving the club.
Apparently, although she didn't feel pressured academically, she carried burdens from elsewhere.
Kuroba Akira guessed it was probably family-related. Teenagers at this age often clash with their parents, feeling out of place at home.
If she weren't a model student but a delinquent, she might've run away from home by now.
Yet Hitomi Anri, more mature than her peers, had chosen to conceal her feelings, seeking a sanctuary within the school—the Literature Club.
Hence, her dedication to preserving it.
In short, typical teenage troubles.
Kuroba Akira had already guessed most of it, but he didn't bring it up—he had no desire to meddle in her home affairs.
Every family has its own complicated story. Outsiders shouldn't interfere.
"The current members are all girls—good kids who get along naturally with me. I don't want them exposed to danger."
"Oh…"
Kuroba Akira replied absentmindedly. The heat was frying his brain, and to be honest, he had zero interest in the social dynamics of students.
He knew from experience: even the closest friends in school would drift apart after graduation due to busy lives.
In the end, everyone becomes strangers… so being alone didn't bother him.
Suddenly, he felt a strong tug, his body pulled out from the shadow of the vending machine, stumbling several steps before regaining balance.
The class president had grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close.
Up close, their eyes met. First thought: her eyelashes were incredibly long.
Her breath brushed across his face, tickling.
And there was a faint floral scent. Could this be… the legendary natural scent of a high school girl?
No, that was way too virginal a thought. Probably just shampoo.
"Hu—!"
"Ugh! My eyes!"
Hitomi Anri puffed her cheeks and blew across Kuroba Akira's face. The floral scent hit his nose, but his fragile eyeballs couldn't withstand the wind.
He squeezed his eyes shut, and tears pricked the corners.
"Please, listen carefully."
"I am listening! Don't ambush me like that!"
"Then listen well. I won't allow dirty, perverted scum, or vile, despicable sluts to approach my precious club members with filthy intentions. Do you understand?"
"…"
When Kuroba Akira forced his eyes open, he saw Hitomi Anri's expression—no smile, only an unyielding, ruthless face.
Wow… terrifying eyes. Not a trace of a grin.
If earlier she was a gentle, charming princess, now she was a sharp-tongued, sadistic queen.
"Now answer my question. You said you're not mute, Kuroba-san, right?"
"Yes! I fully understand, Your Highness!"
"Good."
She released his collar, straightened his uniform, then gently touched his cheek, wiping away his tears with her thumb and brushing sweat from his temple with her palm.
Afterwards, she stepped back and spoke as if nothing had happened.
"Now, let's continue our discussion, Kuroba-kun."
Back to "-kun," and the smile returned—but the impression she left was seared into his mind.
Better not cross the class president… challenging her would end badly.
Kuroba Akira wasn't actually afraid of a high school girl, but her sudden change in demeanor made him take her seriously.
"So, class president, those words earlier—they were a test, right? To see if any guy would join the club with impure intentions?"
"The test ended long ago. When you refused to look at my underwear, I knew you were a pervert with restraint."
A pervert with restraint… what a weird compliment.
In any case, it meant he'd earned her trust.
And because of that trust, she was inviting him.
Since it was a trust-based exchange, it was essentially a business transaction for Kuroba Akira.
And if it's a transaction…
"Then let's discuss the compensation."