When Hayashi Maki reached the rooftop, a beautiful figure was already sitting quietly on the bench.
She was a stunning girl: white headband, a delicate oval face that gave a slightly cool first impression, alabaster skin, a uniform top straining over a perfect curve, a slim waist, and long black-stockinged legs under her skirt. She simply sat there, letting the breeze play with her hair—like a painting come to life.
Utaha-senpai, beautiful as ever, was indeed waiting.
Hayashi Maki walked over naturally and sat beside her, speaking just as naturally to the "sleeping" girl with her eyes closed.
"Utaha-senpai, have you eaten lunch?"
Utaha arched a brow but didn't answer; she only leaned a little closer and parted her glossy, rosy lips—as if to say, I haven't eaten, feed me.
Hayashi Maki flipped his right hand; a sausage stick appeared. He tore the wrapper and pressed it to her lips. Utaha reflexively took a bite, then opened her wine-red eyes to glare at him.
"Kouhai-kun, are you a pervert?"
"Uh… why would you say that?" Hayashi Maki protested, wounded.
Rolling her eyes, Utaha chewed and grumbled, "So half-hearted. Your beautiful senpai waits to be fed; you don't pull out bread and milk at least, and instead hand me a sausage? Trying to satisfy some pervy fetish?"
He gave a sheepish grin—he had done it on purpose. But outwardly he shoved the sausage—now bearing her bite—into his own mouth and took a bite. "I suddenly wanted imported sausage. Senpai satisfying my craving—how wonderful."
Seeing him feed himself and not her, Utaha's gaze turned even more aggrieved. Patting her flat stomach, she said, disgruntled, "I'm still hungry. If I starve, there'll be no lap pillow."
He couldn't help laughing at her look. Tapping her rosy lips, he brushed away a crumb, flipped his hand, and produced a steaming bento.
"I'm kidding. I already prepared food for you. Bread and milk won't replenish your energy—real lunch will."
He picked up a piece with his chopsticks and held it to her lips. Utaha tucked a lock of hair behind her ear to keep it from the food, revealing a refined profile, and happily enjoyed being fed.
Watching her small, pink lips open and close around each bite, Hayashi Maki swallowed. He wanted to kiss her. Men are lustful creatures—and he had no intention of hiding that from Senpai. They'd already grown close through work; now their everyday lives were drawing closer too. Soon enough, she would be his—his familiar.
Utaha didn't eat much; perhaps she was maintaining her figure. Halfway through the bento, she was done. Hayashi Maki held a drink to her lips, then finished the rest himself. No wasting food.
Wiping his mouth and patting his belly, Utaha showed a satisfied smile.
"Kouhai-kun, you filled me up. What reward do you want?"
His eyes lit up. "There are other rewards?"
"No. Only the lap pillow we agreed on. I was being polite," she said, utterly frank.
He stared, speechless. "That's cruel—you've got me itching."
Utaha chuckled. "Well? Do you want the lap pillow or not? Even I get shy, you know."
"I do!"
He promptly lay down and began enjoying the lap pillow—soft, springy thighs wrapped in black stockings, delicious to the touch, enough to make anyone's heart sway. Her faint, sweet scent washed over him; his own breathing quickened.
Face burning, Utaha poked his occiput with a fingertip. "Kouhai-kun, what are you doing?"
"Enjoying Senpai's lap pillow. We had a deal—you can't go back on it."
He inhaled her scent again. A vein popped on Utaha's forehead. "Who lies face-down for a lap pillow? No breathing on me, pervy kouhai!"
"Oh? I learned this from Kazuma Satou. His lap pillows are like this."
"Kazuma Satou? Who's that pervert?"
"A shut-in who thought he got hit by a tractor, died of fright, and crossed into another world," Hayashi Maki said. "By the way, his best skill is a 'steal' that 100% nicks girls' panties."
Utaha yanked his hair. "Learn good things, not bad! You're killing the mood. And don't tell me you're going to write an isekai about a pervy otaku. You finished the last one?"
Face still on her thighs, he shook his head lightly. "Not yet—and I'm not planning that genre. Also, I'm serious: lap pillows are face-down."
She was speechless. The more time she spent with him, the more shameless he seemed. Being taken advantage of like this—she did get shy, okay?
After a while, satisfied, Hayashi Maki sat up and boldly slipped an arm around her slender waist. Utaha's cheeks flared hotter; she trembled once, then let her head rest on his shoulder.
"Hey, kouhai-kun—you're getting naughtier."
"What can I do? Senpai is too beautiful. That kind of beauty draws in bad men like me."
"So of course I think about making a move on you."