"Akira, your expression is so exaggerated… are you really that happy?"
"Of course I am! This is the first successful deal of my life!"
To be precise, the first deal in this life.
"Pfft… The first deal of your life is a semester's worth of lunch… hahaha! Akira, you really are an interesting person."
Watching Kuroba Akira punch the air in celebration, Hitomi Anri clutched her stomach and laughed, tears forming at the corners of her eyes.
Huh… how long had it been since she'd laughed so genuinely, just from the heart?
Her smiles were usually just masks, weapons for negotiation. After all, you can't hit someone who's smiling. A smile could deflect so much malice.
Always maintain a smile. It was a matter of etiquette, a matter of advantage. That's how her mother had taught her.
To make sure no one noticed that her smiles were fake, Anri had spent years perfecting her posture, gestures, and expressions. Every look, every move, every word subtly guided others' emotions.
So interacting with people was mentally exhausting for her, leaving her physically drained.
Yet now, laughing just because something was fun, without any ulterior motive… it felt liberating, like a heavy weight had finally been lifted from her chest.
It was… dangerously enjoyable.
Damn you, Akira. Now that I know I can laugh freely, what if I can never go back to my polite, controlled smiles?
You owe me!
Since he said, "You don't need to say flattering things to me anymore," maybe she didn't need to guard her emotions around him either. She could finally drop her mask and relax.
Just imagining Kuroba Akira coming to the Literature Club room made her heart flutter.
If the coming days were as fun as today, school might not feel like her mother's mission anymore.
Anri wiped a tear from the corner of her eye with her thumb—the same thumb she had used to wipe Akira's earlier—and pressed it to her lips, flicking her tongue across the pad.
Akira stared, inexplicably flustered. Despite her innocent face, there was a maturity in her gesture that seemed beyond her years.
Then she said something that completely threw him off.
"Tears… they're kind of salty."
"That's obvious, isn't it? You're smart—you wouldn't not know something like that, right?"
"I just wanted to taste them. Is that not allowed?"
She was being playfully stubborn.
"Alright, alright, class president. You can do whatever you want."
"I wonder whose tears are saltier—mine or yours, Akira-kun?"
"How could anyone tell? And even if you could, what's the point of comparing?"
"It's to test our compatibility! Scientifically speaking, water flows from low concentration to high concentration. That means the weaker-tasting tears will move toward the saltier ones. This is the semi-permeable membrane of the heart."
"What a groundbreaking theory! Soon all of humanity will be one, huh? Brave girl—you're basically Evangelion for the new century!"
"Hmm… if tears aren't enough, then let's compare sweat."
With that, she leaned closer to him, her face nearly brushing his.
A sudden wave of embarrassment hit Akira. Being nearly kissed by a fifteen-year-old girl—well, he was fifteen too—was overwhelming.
But there was no way to retreat; the vending machine was right behind him.
"Uh, wait, class president… this is a bit—"
Words were fine, but physical contact was crossing the line.
Just as he closed his eyes in nervousness, he felt something on his face—not soft skin, but dry fabric.
Opening his eyes, he saw her using a handkerchief to wipe his sweat, a mischievous smile on her face.
"You thought I was going to lick it?"
"For a moment… I did think that."
His mind had even involuntarily whispered the famous line: "This… is the taste of a lie!"
"I'm not that kind of frivolous girl. Today, I've had lots of first experiences, all because of you, Akira-kun."
"See? Don't say things like that—it's going to make people misunderstand. You're messing with me on purpose, aren't you?"
"Hehe, your reactions are just so entertaining."
She laughed again, bright and carefree, and tucked the handkerchief back into her pocket.
Come to think of it… that was the same handkerchief she had wrapped around her underwear earlier.
But now Akira suspected her earlier promise to give him her panties had been a bluff. After all, her skills included Acting Lv1.
Most likely, she was just teasing a little virgin boy. As expected, the class president was mischievous at heart.
"Well, I should probably head back to prepare your lunch for tomorrow."
"Alright, I'll get going too. Where are you headed?"
"I still need to lock the library and return the key to the office."
"Oh."
"If you come with me, I'll treat you to a drink. How about that?"
"Absolutely, I'll come with you!"
Finally, persistence paid off. Drinks were within reach.
Honestly, that had been his real goal all along—everything else was just extra.
Lesson learned: being a yes-man only makes you a wallet. Being selective gets free food and drinks.
On the way, the class president continued asking him questions.
"Akira-kun, is there anything you particularly like to eat? Or anything you can't or won't eat?"
"You can actually order?"
"Since I'm making this bento for you, I want you to enjoy it."
"Hmm… I'm not picky. Anything is fine, but I'm sensitive to fishy smells. I can eat it, but I don't like it—things like vinegared kelp are a no-go."
Fish was common here, but Akira had grown up inland and barely ate fish. Even six months after transmigrating, he still hadn't gotten used to it.
"Fishy smells… kelp… got it, I'll remember."
Hitomi Anri carefully noted his preferences.
This meant miso soup couldn't use kelp stock or bonito flakes. That would affect the flavor… how could she compensate?
She was already thinking through the details of her cooking.
She could skip the miso soup, but it was one of her specialties. She wanted him to try it.
It was thrilling—her first time cooking for a man. Not even her father had eaten her cooking.
She wanted to do it well, and earn his praise.
She had only taken the cooking class to escape reality, never expecting to one day look forward to cooking.
"And since you're a boy growing, Akira-kun, I'll make extra so you can eat as much as you need. Is that okay?"
"No problem—I'll eat every single grain."
"Hehe, you're exaggerating."
But that would make her happy.
So she'd make sure he left with a full belly.