Shion noticed the scent of another woman on Akira—not because she had a particularly keen sense of smell, but simply because she knew Akira's scent too well.
After all, she breathed it in every day; there was no way she wouldn't recognize it instantly.
Especially when Akira was away at school, Shion often lay on the lower bunk, burying her face into his pillow, hugging his blanket tightly. She'd fantasize about being held in his arms, drifting dreamily… These private moments were her exclusive method of recharging.
Thus, Shion had grown hypersensitive to even the slightest change in Akira's scent. Normally, when he returned home from school, he carried faint traces of various odors—mostly different foods, indicating his lunch changed frequently.
But today, what lingered on Akira's body was a subtle, elegant scent of ink, accompanied distinctly by something that could only be described as a feminine fragrance.
It might be a different shower gel, or perhaps it was simply the girl's natural scent—but whatever it was, it definitely wasn't her own.
Usually, after secretly indulging herself in Akira's bed, Shion would tidy everything carefully and air out the room, fearful Akira might discover she'd "enjoyed herself" there.
Fortunately, Akira remained quite oblivious in this regard, never noticing anything unusual. Recently, feeling bolder, Shion had even deliberately left more traces of her scent behind.
She'd dampen the sheets slightly, then let them air dry, thus preserving more of her scent. After Akira slept in them overnight, the scent would seep deeply into his skin.
In the mornings, when she caught her scent lingering on him, she'd secretly rejoice. It was like leaving her own mark on his body, satisfying her possessive impulses.
But by evening, returning from school, such scent traces would normally have vanished completely.
Which meant, the only explanation now was that Akira had just had intimate contact with another "female culprit."
Akira-kun touched another woman I don't know… Just knowing this instantly plunged Shion's mood to rock bottom.
Could it be that girl called "Hitomi"?
That sneaky, thieving cat…!
Shion bit her lower lip tightly, her face clouded by quiet resentment. Her intense stare sent chills down Akira's spine, prompting him to pause mid-bite and turn around.
Yet, by the time he looked back, Shion had skillfully concealed her resentment behind practiced acting skills—her "Acting" proficiency steadily increasing from these daily exercises.
"What's up? Why are you just standing behind me?"
"Nothing… I was just wondering if I should massage your shoulders, Akira-kun."
"Hah? You don't have to spoil me that much—I haven't even been busy writing lately. Just reading books at the Literature Club."
"I see…"
Shion pursed her lips, eyes seemingly drifting away casually, desperately pretending not to care. But the trembling fingers hidden behind her back betrayed the waves of turmoil inside her heart.
Still, thanks to her growing proficiency, her expression remained tranquil. Thus, she managed to ask casually, as if it were nothing:
"So, Akira-kun, you visited your Literature Club friend's house today?"
"Yeah."
"Was it that girl named 'Hitomi'?"
"No, not Class Rep. It was another friend."
Another girl entirely… So Akira-kun is quite popular in that club after all, especially since all the other members are girls…
With her imaginary rival suddenly shifting, Shion's hostility lost its target—after all, she didn't even know the other Literature Club girls' names.
Though she wanted to probe deeper, Shion knew pestering Akira with endless questions would only annoy him.
She wasn't his wife, not even his girlfriend. Interrogating him like this would surely make him dislike her…
No matter how much she hated seeing Akira close to other women, the mere thought of being disliked or—even worse—despised by him terrified her. Thus, she obediently closed her mouth, swallowing her grievances like a compliant little wife.
Yet, oblivious to her feelings, Akira carelessly continued on the same topic.
"Speaking of which, thanks to her help, my novel will probably improve a lot. Maybe it'll even get an anime adaptation someday."
"Oh, I see…"
Normally, Shion would congratulate him and praise his accomplishment, but due to her sour mood, she just couldn't muster any enthusiasm.
Akira simply assumed she was exhausted after a full day of voice training, paying no further attention as he continued cheerfully eating fried rice.
"Let's see… Generally speaking, a light novel anime adaptation proposal comes around volumes five to ten. If popularity is high enough, volume five could secure the anime deal…"
With Shiroi Shiori's assistance, the publication pace would probably hit two volumes every three months. That meant they could reach the fifth volume within half a year.
"And producing one anime season usually takes another half year… So, roughly speaking, it'll take about a year."
Akira lifted his spoon, pointing it confidently toward Shion.
"Shion, if my novel successfully gets an anime adaptation, you'll voice the heroine."
"Eh…?"
Shion hadn't expected the conversation to suddenly return to her. Her eyes widened in shock, mouth hanging open slightly, body frozen stiff as if under a spell.
A surge of overwhelming joy immediately followed.
Could it be… he's writing novels for my sake as well?!
"What's with that shocked expression? If my work gets animated, of course I'll request you as the seiyuu."
"Ah… Yes!"
That's right! He'll choose me! He'd only choose me!
"But even though the original author can suggest seiyuu, the final decision ultimately rests with the anime director. That means your own skills have to be good enough too, Shion."
Regarding skill, Akira wasn't worried—he was more concerned about whether Shion's reputation would be big enough. Fame took time to build, so ideally Shion would debut within half a year, making her casting a natural decision.
"In other words, around this time next year, Shion, you absolutely must have already become a moderately famous seiyuu."
Filled with renewed motivation, Shion clenched her small fists determinedly.
"I'll keep working hard! I won't waste the precious opportunity you've prepared for me, Akira-kun!"
"Good. That's exactly the spirit… Well, I'm almost done eating now. Want a foot massage afterward?"
Satisfied and relaxed after eating, and given what happened at Shiori's house today, Akira felt a certain restless itch. He planned to soothe himself by indulging in Shion's silk-stockinged feet before visiting the bathroom later to finish the job.
"Ah… Yes! Um, Akira-kun, which stockings would you prefer? I'll go change right now."
"The ones you're wearing now are perfect."
Today Shion just happened to be wearing white silk pantyhose. And Akira's strongest impression today was of Shiroi Shiori's pure whiteness—white skin, white underwear, white gloves… Thus, white stockings would be an ideal substitute.
"Mm… Then please take care of me."
Shion could never refuse him, as she herself secretly enjoyed it immensely.
Placing her delicate stocking-clad foot obediently into his hands, allowing him to touch as he pleased—this was her happiest, most blissful moment of the day, second only to lying in his bed.
Thus, after dinner, Akira eagerly began attending to Shion's silky feet.
Recently, to better serve Shion, he'd even consulted Tashiro Benika-san for professional massage techniques, learning numerous methods of gripping and kneading.
With dedicated daily practice on Shion's dainty feet, he guessed his left hand might soon gain a "Foot Massage" proficiency skill.
Perfect in shape, softness, fragrance, and sensitivity—Shion's feet were flawless in every way.
And as Akira's massage skills steadily improved, Shion's legs grew more sensitive. Each session sent heat coursing through her, leaving her limp, trembling, and increasingly unable to suppress her sensual gasps.
Merely having her feet gripped in his hands, she felt completely dominated by him, robbed of all resistance—not that she'd ever considered resisting in the first place.
She only thought privately: Akira-kun… You're far too cunning…
If he kept treating her this way… wouldn't she inevitably submit to whatever he asked…?
Well, never mind… Even if he gets close to many other women, so what?
In the end, he'll always return home—to me.