How utterly fascinating,
Asato Hitomi thought, her internal monologue a stark contrast to her placid, monitor-appropriate smile. A level-1 acting skill perfectly masked the gleeful spark in her eyes. She was intensely curious to see how Kuroha Akira would navigate out of the crater he'd just blasted for himself. So, she decided to play along—fully.
With a smile that could melt glaciers, she reached out and gently patted Kuroha Akira's head, her fingers threading through his dark hair in a gesture that was both patronizing and intimate.
"Hehe, good doggy~" she cooed, her voice a singsong melody of pure mischief. "I made lots of delicious food for you, you know?"
The classroom, still reeling from the first shock, now plunged into a deeper, more profound silence. Jaws literally hung open.
The Class Monitor… openly acknowledging she's keeping a classmate as a pet?!Was the kind, beautiful campus belle Asato Hitomi actually a hidden sadomasochistic queen?!This wasn't just gossip—this was front-page scandal material for the school newspaper!
One could almost see the members of the News Club salivating in the distance, their gossip antennas twitching.
But Kuroha Akira was neither brain-damaged nor suffering from a CPU meltdown. His outrageous declaration was a calculated gambit, a social smoke grenade. And now, with everyone's attention utterly captured, it was time for the follow-up—the cool-down.
He calmly reached up and gently guided Hitomi's patting hand away, as if redirecting an overly affectionate puppy. Then, with a practiced, lighthearted wave, he addressed the room, his tone dripping with 'can't-you-people-take-a-joke?' nonchalance.
"Just kidding, everyone! Seriously, this bento wasn't made just for me. The Class Monitor prepared it for all the members of the Literary Club." He gestured to the luxurious three-tiered box. "Just look at this volume. Does this look like a portion for one person?"
His logic was impeccable. A bento of this magnitude, made for a single boy, was practically a confession wrapped in rice—the culinary equivalent of "The moon is beautiful tonight." But a bento meant for "everyone"? That was simply the act of a generous club president, perfectly in line with Asato Hitomi's saintly, considerate persona.
A wave of visible relief washed over the classroom.
Right, the Literary Club!
The Class Monitor was its president! The pieces snapped into place, and the earlier, more scandalous implications were hastily shoved into a mental drawer labeled 'Akira's Bad Joke.'
"And I just happened to join the Literary Club recently, so I'm just incidentally enjoying the benefits." He finished with a shrug, throwing the conversational ball back to Hitomi. "Isn't that right, Class Monitor?"
Behold, the master of crisis management! Akira mentally patted himself on the back. So please, Class Monitor, no more of these classroom rom-com antics!
Asato Hitomi's smile didn't falter, but the glint in her eyes shifted from playful to appreciative. As expected of Kuroha-kun. So cunning… or perhaps, 'deft' is the better word. She'd gleaned from yesterday's transaction that he possessed a social agility far beyond the typical flustered high schooler. It was… refreshing. He was, indeed, her kind of person.
"That's correct," she chimed in smoothly, her voice once again the model of clarity and responsibility. "Kuroha-kun is a new member I invited to join our Literary Club. We're very glad to have him."
"I see… Kuroha-san joined the Literary Club," Fujiyoshi Michio repeated, nodding as if receiving divine revelation. The other students murmured similar understanding.
Yet, the atmosphere, while less electrically charged, remained tense. Akira's years in the corporate jungle, a world far more cutthroat than any classroom, had forced upon him passive skills like 'Kūki o Yomu'—Reading the Air. The crisis wasn't over. The real storm cloud was still gathering.
As if on cue, the collective gaze of the class subtly, almost imperceptibly, shifted toward a specific point in the room.
Ah, Akira thought. Here comes the main event.
He had already pieced together the full picture.
Logically, with Asato Hitomi's stature, the Literary Club shouldn't be languishing. Even without her personal appeal, surely someone in this entire school was genuinely interested in literature? The fact that no one joined meant joining was perceived as 'dangerous'—a social faux pas.
Therefore, the membership crisis was almost certainly artificial. A targeted blockade. And the target wasn't the club itself, but Asato Hitomi.
The motive was simple: someone wanted to pursue her. The Class Monitor, with her beauty, brains, and gentle grace, undoubtedly had a legion of secret admirers. Among them, one had decided to claim territory.
By preventing others from joining, he could ensure that when he finally joined (presumably after wearing down her resistance), he'd have the coveted 'first-comer' advantage. Three years of high school, side-by-side in a club? A foolproof plan to raise favorability!
This person had likely staked his claim, creating a deadlock: I can't join yet, but nobody else can either. And Hitomi, perhaps feeling responsible for the club's plight, had taken matters into her own hands by recruiting Akira.
Now, the architect of this blockade could sit still no longer.
Thud!
A loud slap against a desk echoed in the now-quiet room. A boy sitting in the very heart of the classroom's social solar system—the vibrant area behind Hitomi that always buzzed with laughter and exclamations of "Eh~ Maji?", "Honto ni?"—rose to his feet. His expression was uncharacteristically serious as he strode with deliberate purpose toward the corner where Akira sat.
Akira recognized him. The boy was a core member of Class 1-A's popular crowd, the most active and loud male presence. He had sun-bleached, yellowish hair and a face that could be considered handsome in a generic, cheerful-jock kind of way. He was the type skilled at making girls laugh. Akira didn't know his name, but he had a clear dossier on him in his mind.
This was the boy who had been the first to vote for Hitomi as class monitor, campaigning for her with near-evangelical zeal. He was also the one who, after Hitomi initiated applause for Akira that one time, had immediately whooped and whistled, not out of genuine support for Akira, but to curry favor with Hitomi.
In Akira's internal ledger, he was filed under: The Class Monitor's #1 Sycophant.
As the boy approached, his sunny demeanor replaced by a stormy front, Kuroha Akira met his gaze calmly.
I may have played the dog for a moment, Akira mused, a wry thought forming as he observed the other boy's possessive, territorial glare. But between the two of us… you are the real dog.