Kuroha Akira was finally released from the skirt hood, and he felt the surrounding air become refreshingly cool against his warmed cheeks. He took a deep breath, savoring the sudden freedom.
But this time, he had finally smelled the Class Monitor's scent… Uh, what was that scent again?
Because he'd been so focused on talking to the Class Monitor—on arguing his way out of the bet, on formulating his defense—Kuroha Akira hadn't gotten a proper chance to sniff the 'base scent' in any meaningful way. His mind had been elsewhere, and now his olfactory memory was frustratingly blank.
Anyway, he decided, it should be a fragrance… Never mind! Let's just assume it was a fragrance!
It would be a bit disappointing if it turned out to be the fishy smell of seafood—that would shatter certain illusions he didn't even know he had. So it was better to let the Class Monitor's scent remain in his memory as the unique, floral fragrance of a young girl. A pleasant fiction was sometimes better than an unpleasant truth.
What was even more regrettable—what truly stung—was that when he was finally released, Kuroha Akira still couldn't see the view under the skirt.
Because Asato Hitomi hadn't suddenly lifted her skirt and let him out with a dramatic flourish. No, that would have been too easy. Instead, she had slowly pressed down the fabric between Kuroha Akira's head and the skirt with her hand, deliberately blocking his line of sight from his eyes to her underwear.
The Class Monitor's defense is still watertight…
Although he had already seen the style of the Class Monitor's underwear before—that memory was seared into his brain—he still couldn't see them worn on the Class Monitor. And that was a genuine pity. It was like knowing the lyrics to a song but never hearing the melody.
But it wasn't just Kuroha Akira who was concerned about scents. Asato Hitomi had also smelled something unpleasant on him.
In fact, she had noticed it a long time ago. Recently, however, that scent had become increasingly obvious—more pronounced, more impossible to ignore—causing her to be unable to continue pretending she hadn't noticed.
Some people, she thought, are really getting more and more out of line.
A warning needed to be given. Gently, perhaps, but firmly.
"By the way, Akira-kun," she said casually, as if discussing the weather, "remember to tidy up your bedding when you go back, okay?"
"Hmm? Bedding?" Akira blinked, confused by the sudden shift in topic.
"Like bed sheets and such. It's best to change them every once in a while. Otherwise, bacteria can easily grow." She smiled sweetly. "You wouldn't want to get sick, would you?"
"Oh, oh…"
Kuroha Akira was a little puzzled. He didn't quite understand why the Class Monitor had suddenly started lecturing him about personal hygiene. Did he have a smell on him? Was that what this was about?
Saying that, Kuroha Akira surreptitiously sniffed himself—lifting his collar slightly, turning his head to catch a whiff of his own shoulder.
…Nothing. There was no smell. Or maybe he just couldn't smell it himself. Nose blindness was a real thing, after all.
Seeing his actions, Asato Hitomi smiled and quickly reassured him.
"Don't worry, Akira-kun. Other people probably can't smell it at all. It's just that my sense of smell is a bit more sensitive than most…" She tilted her head thoughtfully. "And it's mainly noticeable when we first meet in the morning. Right now, it's actually not very noticeable anymore."
Asato Hitomi was the first person to greet Kuroha Akira at school every day. He had noticed recently that he could see the Class Monitor waiting for him at the school gate without fail, her elegant figure standing out against the morning crowd. So from the school gate to the classroom, the two would walk and chat together, their conversation flowing easily.
The rumors about them dating had long since become accepted as fact by the student body. At this point, they completely disregarded the gazes of other students—the whispers, the pointed looks, the jealous sighs. It simply wasn't worth the energy to care anymore.
"What kind of smell is it?" Akira asked, genuinely curious now. "A bad smell?"
"Hmm…" Asato Hitomi paused, choosing her words carefully. "Rather than a bad smell, I'd say it's more like… the kind of smell Akira-kun dislikes."
"The kind of smell I dislike?"
Kuroha Akira thought about the smells he disliked. The top of that list would probably be… fishy smells? Yeah, that was definitely up there.
But why would there be a fishy smell on him? He hadn't eaten any seafood recently—no sushi, no grilled fish, nothing. It couldn't be the smell of his little brother's… spit, could it?
No, that was ridiculous.
He quickly reviewed his recent activities. Kuroha Akira confirmed—with some relief—that he hadn't 'generated electricity' in bed recently. Not since Shinomiya had moved in.
Because he shared a room with Shinomiya now, Kuroha Akira couldn't be as casual as he had been when he lived alone. Those days of carefree self-indulgence were behind him.
Although Shinomiya had once said—with a straight face, no less—that if Kuroha Akira ever had that intention, she would gladly step out if he just told her… But how could he actually say something like that out loud?!
"Um, I feel a bit like a deer in rut, so please, Shion, could you step out for a bit…"
Just thinking about it was mortifying. The very idea made his soul want to leave his body.
So Kuroha Akira had been taking care of things in the restroom recently. The toilets here in Japan were all in separate cubicles, so they didn't interfere with others washing up or showering. Perfectly suitable for handling some private matters in peace and quiet.
After thinking and thinking, Kuroha Akira still couldn't figure out where he might have picked up any unpleasant smell. In the end, he could only give up, scratching his cheek with an admiring expression.
"You can smell that, Class Monitor? You're like a dog…" He immediately winced. "Uh, I didn't mean to insult you, Class Monitor. I just meant your nose is really good."
It was the same as before—she had even smelled Shinomiya's shower gel on him that one time. Her olfactory abilities were frankly superhuman.
Being called a dog, the Class Monitor didn't get angry. Instead, her smile widened, and she played along with obvious delight.
"Yes… Hehe, I really am more like a dog, aren't I?" She paused, then added with theatrical fierceness, "And a bad dog at that! Woof woof!"
The Class Monitor put on a playfully fierce expression and barked twice, complete with little clawing gestures.
So cute… Kuroha Akira felt his heart do a strange flutter. The Class Monitor is really, genuinely cute when she acts cute.
This was the privilege of a beautiful girl—no matter what she did, it somehow came across as adorable. An ugly person doing the same thing might be cringey, but on her? It worked.
"I, on the other hand, think that if I were to compare you to a dog, Class Monitor," Akira said, "it would definitely be Hachiko. Loyal, devoted, always waiting."
"But I not only protect," Asato Hitomi countered, her eyes glinting with something unreadable, "but I also guard my food! Hiss… Woof!"
"Is there anything wrong with that?" Akira shrugged. "When you encounter something you like to eat, you want to monopolize it. That's not just dogs—that's human nature, isn't it?"
"Is that so?" Her voice softened. "If Akira-kun thinks that way, then I won't change, okay?"
"Haha, no need to change. I think it's cute."
"Hmm…" She looked at him for a long moment. "You said that."
Then, without warning—
Asato Hitomi suddenly hugged Kuroha Akira head-on.
And it was a strong hug—the kind that pressed her body against his with surprising force, her arms wrapping around his torso like steel cables. He let out a startled grunt.
"Class Monitor?" He stood there, arms awkwardly hovering in the air. "What is this a reward for now?"
Asato Hitomi buried her face in his chest, rubbing against him like a cat claiming a new piece of furniture. Her voice came out muffled against his shirt.
"This isn't a reward. This is an overlay mark."
"Huh?"
"It's nothing, Akira-kun." She shook her head slightly, still pressed against him. "You don't need to worry about it. It has nothing to do with you."
"…"
No, you're hugging me, and it has nothing to do with me? That doesn't compute.
If they were lovers, embracing in the Literary Club after sunset would probably be a very romantic scene—the kind you saw in shoujo manga, with cherry blossoms falling and soft lighting.
However, Kuroha Akira currently felt like a stuffed animal at an amusement park, being hugged with all its might by an enthusiastic child who refused to let go.
This reminded him of being held by the drunk Tashiro Kurenai a while ago. Only back then, there had also been a face-washing service—her breasts pressing against his face. Now, this was more like… tummy-rubbing?
Well… He supposed it was quite soft, so it could still be considered welfare. He wasn't about to complain.
After a long moment, Asato Hitomi finally let go of him. But she wasn't done yet.
"Akira-kun, turn around," she ordered. "The back too."
Kuroha Akira obediently turned around, and Asato Hitomi once again embraced him—this time from behind, her arms wrapping around his waist. It was somewhat reminiscent of that famous scene standing at the bow of the Titanic, except the male and female roles had been completely reversed.
"Uh…" He stared straight ahead at the clubroom wall. "What exactly is this for…?"
"It's just Hitomi-chan marking her territory," she said matter-of-factly.
"Don't dogs usually mark territory with urine…"
"Do you want me to pee on you, Akira-kun?" Her voice was teasing, but there was a sharp edge underneath. "Is that your fetish? If that really is your thing, I could—"
"No! Sorry!" He cut her off quickly. "I spoke out of turn. Please, do as you wish."
Not wanting to be labeled a pervert by the class representative—or worse, to have her actually follow through on that threat—Kuroha Akira obediently shut his mouth and let her hug him.
After what felt like an eternity but was probably only a minute or two, the class representative finally released him. She patted his back with a satisfied smile.
"Alright… Now then, hurry home, Akira-kun." Her eyes met his. "Remember, don't take any detours. Go straight home."
Otherwise, Asato Hitomi secretly added in her heart, the scent will fade.
"I know, I'm not a child…" Akira sighed. "You should hurry home too, Class Rep. Be careful on your way."
"Mm. See you tomorrow, Akira-kun."
...
Returning to the Kobayashi residence, Kuroha Akira had barely stepped through the front door when Shinomiya appeared to greet him.
"Welcome home, Akira-kun—" She stopped mid-sentence, her nose twitching almost imperceptibly. Then her expression cooled noticeably.
"Akira-kun…" Her voice was polite but distant. "You should go take a bath first today."
"Uh…"
Why does even Shinomiya look like she's thinking 'you smell really strong'…?
Kuroha Akira was quite puzzled. First the Class Monitor, now Shinomiya. Was there some invisible odor clinging to him that everyone could detect except himself?
He decided then and there to wash extra thoroughly today. Maybe even scrub twice. Might as well change the bedsheets too—he still took the class representative's words to heart. Being told he smelled by a girl was genuinely bothersome.
If it were a teenage boy, being told by a girl 'You smell terrible!' could potentially become a lifelong psychological scar. That kind of thing stayed with you.
"I understand," he said. "I'll go change the bedsheets while I'm at it."
Then Shinomiya froze.
Her entire body went rigid, her eyes widening almost imperceptibly. When she spoke again, her voice had an edge of panic she couldn't quite hide.
"Huh? Akira-kun, you're changing the bedsheets? Why?"
"Just feels like it's time to change them."
"Um…" Shinomiya swallowed hard. "Is it… because of a smell?"
Could it be that he found out…?
Shinomiya's heart was racing with panic at that moment. The more she thought about it, the more panicked she became. Her acting skills—usually quite good—were barely enough to cover her nervousness.
If he really found out, he'd definitely think I'm a pervert!
And he'd know about my feelings… Akira-kun would distance himself from me… I'd never be able to be with him again…
All because of my own dark possessiveness… everything would be ruined!
At that moment, Shinomiya felt as if the sky was falling. Her heart was shrouded in endless despair, like a death row inmate standing before the executioner, waiting for the final blow.
Until Kuroha Akira shrugged and casually explained.
"Probably, yeah. Honestly, I don't smell anything myself. But the class representative reminded me today to change the bedsheets. She said there was a bit of an unpleasant smell on me…" He scratched his head. "Since she said so, I figured I should pay more attention to hygiene."
"…"
Shinomiya's tense body relaxed like a released spring.
Phew. She inwardly breathed a long, deep sigh of relief. Good. Akira-kun didn't find out…
Yet it was all her fault that she'd gotten so worked up in the first place. She had been the one jumping to conclusions.
The class representative… Shinomiya's eyes narrowed slightly. That woman named Hitomi!
She noticed me.