For now, however, Shinomiya Shion could only bury this newly awakened love deep within her heart, not daring to reveal even the slightest hint.
Because she knew—with absolute, painful certainty—that Kuroha Akira did not feel the same way.
He wasn't cooperating with her because he liked her. He wasn't drawn by her face or her figure. He'd chosen her purely for her talent... and somehow, that realization alone was enough to make Shinomiya smile foolishly with joy.
But she understood clearly: there was no romantic component in this arrangement.
To put it bluntly, the relationship between Kuroha Akira and Shinomiya Shion was transactional. Mutual benefit. Each receiving what they needed from the other.
She'd already gained so much—a place to stay, guidance for her dreams, daily contact with someone who made her heart race. If she coveted more, she might lose everything she currently possessed.
Confessing without permission would only burden him. It might destroy their friendship entirely. And if their relationship soured...
She might not be able to stay at Kobayashi anymore.
Though she'd only lived here a week, Shinomiya had genuinely fallen in love with this place. Yes, the living conditions were modest—far from luxurious—but the atmosphere was free. Relaxing. Unconstrained. She could be herself without constant vigilance.
At her stepfather's house, material conditions had been vastly superior. But Shinomiya hadn't been happy there. Her mother had been perpetually wary, always watching, always calculating.
Now, though, Shinomiya understood her mother differently. Not as a child understanding a parent, but as a woman understanding another woman's actions.
Her mother must have been terrified.
Terrified that her lover would be stolen by her own daughter.
Because that second father—that scumbag—had married her mother with ulterior motives toward Shion. He hadn't loved her mother at all; he'd simply wanted to use her, and use Shion as well.
But her mother had stopped him. After seeing through that man's true intentions, she'd divorced him decisively. Even though her mother was the type who couldn't live without a man—a love-brain through and through—she'd still abandoned her scumbag husband and chosen to protect her daughter.
So Shinomiya held no resentment.
Her mother simply wasn't good at expressing tenderness. She'd never harmed Shion intentionally.
Still, their eventual separation filled Shinomiya with regret and loss. If she hadn't inherited such a problematic face, maybe she and her mother could have become truly close.
She hoped her mother would find happiness with her current husband.
And she... would strive for her own happiness too.
....
While Shinomiya sorted through these complicated emotions, Kuroha Akira continued stroking her head, oblivious to the storm behind her serene expression.
He was, frankly, becoming addicted.
This sensation was completely different from touching stockinged feet—a novel experience entirely. Running his fingers through her long hair, from root to tip without obstruction, the soft strands sliding like liquid silk through his digits.
That smoothness seemed to dissolve every trace of irritation in his heart, bringing tranquility and peace.
Like headphones that never tangled—even if knotted, they'd release instantly. Didn't that feel incredibly satisfying?
Gently grasping a lock of long hair, rubbing it as it fanned across his palm—each strand astonishingly delicate. A slight coolness emanated from his fingertips, yet beneath it pulsed warm life.
Squeezing gently, the hair would spring back softly, like living threads dancing in his hand.
Alright, to speak more vulgarly: Kuroha wanted to be entangled by this black hair. Wanted to smell it thoroughly. Wanted to feel it with his tongue.
*It's not lookin good brev
It seemed he'd awakened another strange preference. Was Shinomiya's entire body a repository of hidden secrets, every part capable of unlocking new desires?
He'd imagined the texture when first seeing this long, straight black hair. But he hadn't expected her hair quality to be absolutely top-tier. Stockings suddenly faced serious competition.
First breast appreciation, now hair appreciation emerged as a challenger to foot appreciation's throne.
Gulp. He couldn't surrender territory without a fight.
Suddenly, Kuroha remembered a certain angel-hunting witch who could weave clothes from her hair. If Shinomiya's hair wrapped around her feet to create black stockings... wouldn't that be double the pleasure?
Unfortunately, her hair wasn't long enough. Even curling her body, she could barely wrap it around her knees and calves—and the posture would be extremely uncomfortable.
Hair reaching the waist was already quite long. Any longer would interfere with daily life—restroom visits would become complicated, maintenance would be exhausting, each wash a production.
Sigh. Black hair stockings on beautiful legs could only exist in imagination.
Kuroha sighed but couldn't stop stroking her head, still enchanted. Shinomiya remained fully immersed, savoring every moment of contact with the person she liked. The reward time extended far beyond its intended duration.
...
At around five in the afternoon, Tashiro Kurenai descended the stairs and witnessed this scene. A playful smile spread across her features.
Oh my... seems like intimate time, isn't it?
She knew these two weren't actually involved—Shinomiya had explained her situation—but this scene looked exactly like a couple displaying affection.
And honestly, Kuroha Akira and Shinomiya Shion's contractual partnership struck her as fascinating. It had strong youth idol drama vibes.
If anyone else brought a high school girl home, Tashiro Kurenai might suspect ulterior motives. But Kuroha bringing such a beautiful girl home? She genuinely believed he wanted to nurture talent.
After all, he'd revealed his special ability to see talent to her. Just her. Not even Granny Kobayashi knew.
His willingness to share such a secret indicated trust, which was why Tashiro Kurenai reciprocated by sharing her past life experiences.
Though one thing remained untold. Not from apprehension—simply because she wasn't psychologically prepared yet.
Kuroha noticed her first. He pulled himself away from the long black hair's magic, raising the hand that had been on Shinomiya's head in greeting.
"Good evening, Kurenai."
He used her first name at her request—surnames felt too distant, and in her previous life, first names prevented confusion.
"Sorry, sorry." She smiled wickedly. "Did I interrupt something?"
"Not at all. Shion made significant progress, so I'm rewarding her."
"Hehe, I see..."
Tashiro Kurenai narrowed her eyes, licking her lips. As a woman, she understood young girls' hearts perfectly.
If a man wasn't special to you, you wouldn't let him stroke your head.
And she'd caught Shinomiya's expression—completely the intoxicated look of a girl in love.
She wondered if Kuroha noticed, or if he deliberately pretended ignorance. Knowing his psychology, Shinomiya remained a "little girl" to him—someone he wasn't comfortable viewing romantically due to the age gap.
"Ah, Kurenai..." Shinomiya snapped back to reality. The head-patting reward ended prematurely, which she regretted, but she smiled warmly. "You're up early today."
After days together, Shinomiya no longer resisted Tashiro Kurenai's presence. She'd realized Kurenai wasn't especially attentive only to Kuroha—she was kind to everyone.
And she treated Kuroha like a younger brother. Not an "enemy" at all.
That's right!
A sudden realization struck Shinomiya.
I can ask her to borrow pants!
And sanitary pads!
Even when not on my period, I should wear them from now on!
After recent experiences, Shinomiya finally understood her body's reactions. To avoid staining inner and outer wear again, she needed sanitary pads permanently on hand.
She absolutely could not embarrass herself in front of Akira-kun ever again!