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A lap pillow, as the name suggests, is when a person gently rests their head on another person's lap.
In the two-dimensional world, this is a cute scene with a soft glow, but in reality, it's quite rare—mostly a reliance when one is too tired to keep their eyes open, or an intimate act when getting very close to carefully clean the other person's ears.
Akira had never had such an experience in his life.
"Okay, I understand." He watched Kushida pat her lap and agreed without much hesitation.
There was no intention of refusing.
Since she was willing to honor the bet, there was no reason for him to back down.
And... he looked down at the skirt she'd specifically smoothed out, suddenly curious about what this two-dimensional scene truly felt like in reality.
Akira hesitated for two seconds, then slowly lay down, following the curve of the sofa.
The moment the back of his head touched Kushida's lap, he instinctively tensed his back—through the thin fabric of her skirt, he could feel the warmth of her thigh, which was warmer than he expected.
"Don't move," Kushida's voice came from above his head. "Do you want me to wait until the time is up to wake you? Are you nervous? Shimizu-kun, is this your first time having a lap pillow from a girl?"
Her fingertips gently pressed his shoulder, very lightly.
"Yes, you're right," Akira replied.
He could clearly feel that the thigh he was resting on was actually a bit tense—the muscles weren't completely relaxed, and even the wrinkles in the skirt hadn't moved much.
This subtle stiffness couldn't be faked. It seemed he wasn't the only one who felt uncomfortable.
'She's probably nervous too.'
Akira looked up, his gaze just catching the rotating colored lights of the private room's ceiling lamp.
Red, blue, and pink lights swept across the ceiling, then spilled onto Kushida's hair—she was looking down slightly, still holding the microphone she hadn't put down, but she wasn't singing anymore.
"Your hair is a bit stiff," she suddenly said, her fingertips tentatively touching the ends of his hair. "Do you usually not use conditioner?"
"Indeed, I don't have that habit," Akira's voice vibrated from his chest, and he felt the knee he was resting on move slightly.
He suddenly found this scene a bit strange—even though they were in a noisy karaoke room, he could clearly hear her breathing and the rustling sound of her skirt when it was brushed.
"Three minutes, only ten seconds have passed," Kushida bent her finger. "Want to close your eyes and rest for a bit? The colored lights must be uncomfortable for your eyes."
Akira actually listened and closed his eyes.
In the darkness, his senses became especially acute—she had a faint sweet scent of mango juice mixed with the fresh scent of shampoo.
Her knees rose and fell slightly with her breathing, like a gently rocking boat.
Akira felt all his muscles relax.
Actually, the sensation of resting on her lap was far less comfortable than a cotton pillow in his dorm—the friction of the fabric, the slightly undulating curve, all brought a sense of unfamiliar discomfort.
But at this moment, his heart felt as if it'd been soaked in warm water, with an indescribable lightness, and even the noisy background sound of the room seemed a bit distant.
"One minute left," Kushida's voice floated down from above his head. "Shimizu-kun, oh! Just a quick question, how did you and Horikita-san manage to drop the honorifics from your addresses?"
"Huh?" Akira's mouth couldn't help but twitch—this classmate really seized every opportunity to gather information, not even letting go during a lap pillow.
He could even imagine her expression at this moment—she must be looking down, her eyelashes gently fluttering, with an innocent look, pretending to ask casually.
'This person... how can she be both scheming and cute?'
"Nothing special," he said frankly. "I just said, 'Our relationship is close enough now, there's no need for such a formal address,' and she agreed to drop the honorifics. It was that simple."
As he said this, he felt the knee he was resting on move slightly, as if she was surprised.
Sure enough, the next second he heard her voice. "Eh? That direct? Horikita-san actually agreed?"
"Mm," Akira responded, suddenly finding it a bit funny. "Horikita is just like that. If you're too polite with her, she'll actually find it annoying."
"Is that so?! I understand."
Akira didn't respond this time.
The background music in the room had changed to a slow love song at some point, with a female voice humming softly, intertwining with her breathing, which was more calming than the half-hour of singing earlier.
"Time's up," at the last second of the three minutes, Kushida gently pushed his shoulder. "If you lie there any longer, I'll have to charge extra points."
When Akira sat up, the warmth of her lap still lingered on the back of his head.
He turned to look, just as he caught Kushida rubbing her thigh, her cheeks a little red—it was probably numb from him pressing on it.
"Will there be such a good thing next time?" Akira suddenly asked.
Kushida was stunned, her fingertips instinctively pressing on her knee—after being pressed for three minutes, her muscles were already a bit stiff.
She'd wanted to curl her lips and reply with her usual sweet and soft tone, "There won't be," but the soreness in her thigh was too real, and that feigned gentleness instantly vanished.
'What good thing is this guy thinking about? How could there be a next time?! This time, wasn't I tricked by this guy?!'
'Besides, you're no longer useful! All the information I needed has been extracted! Why should I give you a lap pillow again?!'
She secretly rolled her eyes, and when she looked down, she saw the cowlick on the back of Akira's head—it was stiff.
If it weren't for her knees aching too much to move,
She really wanted to reach out and press it, to see if she could soften that stubborn cowlick a bit.
...
It must be said, Kushida was definitely a very qualified date.
She provided abundant emotional value, and even the date itinerary was meticulously planned.
She always spoke with a soft tone and even honored the bet by providing a lap pillow—if Akira were to score this date, he would undoubtedly give it a ten.
After returning to his dorm, he casually opened social media and found Kushida's latest post. Sure enough, she'd posted several photos of their time together: a side profile of them singing together in the karaoke room, a gaze across the table at a cold drink shop, and even a candid shot of him burying his face in a parfait—with ice crystals on the corner of his mouth and a spoon still stuck in the pile of strawberries, looking a bit disheveled yet focused.
The caption read:
{Congratulations to Shimizu-kun for successfully conquering the giant parfait! Thanks to him, I got a free meal too~}
Below it, quite a few classmates had already liked the post. When he scrolled to the comment section, he saw Yamauchi's comment standing out:
{Th-this should just be a bet, right! You two definitely aren't dating, right?!}
Akira stared at the parfait photo for two seconds, then suddenly remembered Kushida's smiling eyes hidden behind the cup at the time.
In a way, that expression, wanting to laugh but trying to hold it in, became the most memorable moment of the day for him.