Kuroba Akira, of course, picked up instantly on the trace of loneliness Shiginomiya was showing.
And he just as quickly realized she was deliberately letting that little emotion slip—specifically to draw his attention. With her now-seasoned acting skills, if she wanted to act completely unbothered, it would have been easy.
They weren't dating, but Akira still felt he should tend to her mood.
After all, a girl's emotions could be as changeable as summer weather—God knew what strange little thing might suddenly drop her into a funk. Even something like "Mercury retrograde" could be blamed for a bad mood.
And when that initial "adrenaline rush" wore off, Shiginomiya might very well sink back into insecurity and self-doubt.
Unlike Akira, she couldn't see skill levels, so without peers to compare herself against, it was hard for her to clearly gauge her own progress.
That was the downside of being self-taught at home.
It was like those college graduates who hit "graduated but unemployed"—after sending out endless résumés and bombing N interviews with zero offers, they spiral into confusion and anxiety.
Am I really not good enough? What will I even do in the future? What if I can't find a job?
Akira hadn't been through that—he'd gone straight to work after graduation—but he understood that "I can't see the road ahead" kind of lostness.
When he first arrived in this world, he'd felt exactly that… until he quickly found a new goal: lying flat and living off a woman.
Sure, he'd pulled himself out of it on his own—but that was thanks to his relatively rich life experience. Shiginomiya, on the other hand, was still an "untouched girl" who needed someone to guide her.
If he waited until she was already sulking to start coaxing her, it would waste more time and energy—delaying the whole "Ten-Mile Slope Voice Actress Training Project."
That was why, every time Shiginomiya stuck her foot out to tease him, Akira never ignored her. No matter how busy he was, he'd free one hand to "fully interact" with her white-socked, beautiful feet.
Of course… also because he personally enjoyed it. Who'd have thought a foot fetish would one day become genuinely useful? This was a win–win!
Same as now—Akira decided it would be better to serve Shiginomiya than be served himself. Not only would it scratch his own XP itch, it would also brighten her mood.
"Forget the shoulder rub. I prefer being the one in control, so… wanna do the usual?"
He made a little grasping motion in the air, the kind of lewd hand sign that made Shiginomiya's heartbeat spike.
Usually she was the one initiating with her teasing touches, but today he was inviting her himself—which meant he'd probably be rougher than usual, more stimulating…
She knew full well that agreeing meant she'd have to change into a fresh pair of underwear afterward. And yet… she couldn't stop herself from nodding.
She was fully addicted to the foot massages now.
"…Mm. Then I'll be in your care, Akira-kun."
She sat in the chair beside him, bracing herself with both hands on the seat behind her, face turned aside in shy avoidance as if she didn't dare look at her own legs and feet being claimed. Her lower half, however, obediently stretched out her tightly pressed-together legs, toes touching down on his knee—and then stayed perfectly still.
Like a concubine waiting to be favored, her every gesture radiated bashful demureness… though in truth, the whole act and expression were entirely staged.
When they'd discussed character expressiveness before, Akira had told her that embarrassed expressions amplified a girl's charm.
Shiginomiya was actually bolder by nature—yes, she'd been shy at first, but once that faded, what remained was excitement.
So what she really wanted was to just plunk her foot in his lap, maybe even playfully pat-pat his thigh—more like casual horseplay between close friends. But to suit his tastes, she kept up the shy-girl persona.
It worked. Seeing her look bashful only made Akira want to bully her more.
And it wasn't just Shiginomiya who'd fallen for the pleasure of having her legs and feet rubbed—Akira had come to love playing with a girl's dainty feet.
One was willing, one was eager—their kinks fit together like two puzzle pieces clicking into place.
The most ridiculous part? Akira wasn't even handling her feet for the sake of copping a feel anymore—he was doing it for fun.
Even he found it strange. In the past, the sight of stocking-clad legs meant nothing but dirty thoughts. Now, looking at Shiginomiya's white-socked feet, he could genuinely appreciate and handle them like fine antiques.
Maybe her legs and feet had transcended mere lust—something more like an art piece, or a natural beauty to be admired.
Whatever. Pretty and fun to play with—that was enough.
At first, he'd seriously been giving her proper foot massages. But over time, it had shifted to just finding the spots that felt best to the touch, and coming up with new ways to play.
For example, he'd found that her heel fit perfectly in his palm—like holding a piece of jade—making it hard to let go.
He liked running his index finger along her sole, rolling his thumb over the arch like a little roller coaster, pressing his middle finger into the deep groove between toes and ball of the foot…
In his hands, her feet were the ultimate stress relief toy—just playing with them boosted his mood.
And now… he'd thought of a new "mode."
"Oh? You know, I could do this…"
He set her foot down, turned his back to her, then took her ankle and, in one smooth motion, lifted her leg up to shoulder height—resting her foot against the back of his shoulder.
It was like the posture of someone carrying a palanquin—except the "cargo" was her foot.
"Yah!"
Shiginomiya jolted, almost toppling backward, but her innate balance and flexibility kept her steady.
"Ah, sorry—should've warned you. Didn't hit your head, right?"
Bracing herself with her hands, she straightened her upper body, cheeks warm with embarrassment.
"No… But, Akira-kun… this is…?"
"This way I can give you a sole massage and loosen up my shoulders at the same time. Two birds, one stone, right?"
In other words, a seated "stepping massage" without her putting her whole body weight on him—just using her foot as a kind of fascia gun.
"Mm… But…"
"What? Uncomfortable?"
"No… it's fine. Keep going, Akira-kun…"
She said that—but inwardly she was groaning: This pose is way too embarrassing!
She wasn't wearing a skirt, so there was no fear of flashing him—but this "showroom display" position still made her want to cover her face.
It was like he was using her ankle as a car's steering wheel.
Good thing he was facing away from her… he probably knew it would be awkward face-to-face, so he'd turned around. How gentlemanly.
Still, she couldn't help picturing him slotting a key into the ignition, turning it, and starting the engine… and her body, oh-so-helpfully, simulated that little fantasy.
In that instant, all ten toes curled, the foot on his shoulder pressing firmly—giving him a powerful "push-back" sensation.
And at the same time…
…The car leaked oil.
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