"It's not money. I'll pay you with something else."
The cold, flat tone sliced cleanly through the warm classroom air.
Zenjiro froze completely. His eyes widened slightly in pure shock. Like a heavy block of ice dropped straight into his stomach.
He stared at her face, trying to make sense of the sudden shift in her demeanor. The gentle, polite girl from just a second ago was entirely gone.
Down the quiet hallway, the distant chatter of retreating students echoed faintly.
"What do you mean, Shinohara-san?" Zenjiro asked. His voice sounded thin and strained.
Asuka took a single, deliberate step forward. She closed the physical distance between them. The scent of her shampoo instantly flooded his lungs. She leaned her upper body toward him. Her face hovered dangerously close to his shoulder.
"My thigh," Asuka whispered directly into his ear. "I'll let you touch it."
The words punched the air right out of his lungs. He stopped breathing entirely. His stomach cramped hard.
Inside his mind, rapid calculations sparked. He remembered the cold afternoon behind the old gymnasium. He remembered the brief, agonizing moment his trembling fingers brushed against her bare skin.
That kind of short, restricted touch was not good enough anymore. It felt like tossing a single drop of water onto dry sand.
With a tight jaw, he forced his body to step back.
"I respectfully decline, Shinohara-san," Zenjiro whispered. He kept his gaze fixed on the wooden floorboards. "Touching a thigh for a few seconds... I don't need it."
He turned his body away and prepared to walk straight out of the empty classroom.
"You can touch it the whole time while we eat lunch," Asuka stated flatly.
Zenjiro stopped dead in his tracks.
"How's that? Deal?" Asuka continued. Her voice held zero warmth. "And before you answer, let me tell you this. If you decline now, I will never talk to you ever again. You will soon regret if you reject this one."
The brutal threat hung heavy in the quiet room.
He stared blankly at the dark chalkboard at the front of the class.
Touch her warm thigh for a long time? A rational thought tried to pierce through the thick fog in his head. It was just a thigh. It was a simple piece of human anatomy. It was absolutely not worth risking his peace of mind, right?
But the dark, twisting craving in his stomach flared violently.
For the past nine days, he had suffered through a total drought of physical contact. He was starving.
A single, prolonged touch of her bare skin right now possessed the maximum effect to break his sanity. The intense heat of her body was incredibly attractive to his exhausted nerves.
Then, a sudden logical leap crossed his mind.
Wait. This whole situation was incredibly strange. Why would a pretty, popular girl ask me to eat lunch with her? Why would she actively offer her own thigh as payment just to secure my company?
It was a big red flag. The setup felt highly suspicious.
This seems like a trap, Zenjiro deduced silently. She probably plans to use me for something terrible.
He turned slowly back around to face her, narrowing his eyes.
"Why are you doing this, Shinohara-san?" Zenjiro asked. His tone carried a heavy edge of genuine suspicion. "Are you planning on something? What's the catch?"
Before she could answer, loud footsteps slapped against the polished floorboards outside. A small group of noisy second-year students walked right past the open classroom door. They laughed loudly about a recent math test.
Asuka's entire posture shifted in a fraction of a second. Her rigid shoulders dropped. The cold, dead look in her eyes vanished completely.
She offered a bright, flawless smile and chuckled softly.
"It's not what you think, Zenjiro-kun," Asuka said. Her voice suddenly turned back into that sickeningly sweet, polite melody. "I have no ulterior motive. It is not a trap. Don't worry."
Zenjiro noticed the terrifying speed of her vocal shift. He watched the group of students disappear down the corridor. He looked back at her fake smile.
"Is there a reason why you do this?" Zenjiro pressed. "And what is it if there is?"
The fake smile slipped just a tiny fraction of an inch.
"There is a reason," Asuka replied quietly. "But I can't tell you right now."
"That's unfair, Shinohara-san."
Asuka let out a slow, shaky breath. She took another step forward. She moved directly into his personal space.
She leaned her head forward. She did not press her upper body against him, but she let her forehead drop heavily against the center of his chest.
"Please, Zenjiro-kun," Asuka pleaded.
Her sweet voice vibrated directly against his uniform shirt. The tone carried a raw, heavy emotion. It sounded like genuine desperation.
"Come with me just for today."
Through the thin cotton of his shirt, Zenjiro felt the intense, radiating warmth of her forehead. The physical contact was incredibly light, but it burned like fire against his skin.
His tired, twisted mind completely snapped.
The heavy wall of logic protecting his brain crumbled into dust. He thought about sitting in a quiet corner. He thought about pressing his palm flat against her bare thigh for the entire duration of the lunch hour. That specific physical reward was attractive enough to override every single warning bell ringing in his head.
Besides, who knew what else could happen?
If he found himself entirely alone with a pretty girl in a secluded place, the possibilities were endless. His thoughts became deeply twisted and malicious.
He simply did not care about the high probability of a trap anymore, throwing his caution completely out the window. He just desperately wanted to feel the burning warmth radiating from his first crush.
"Okay," Zenjiro finally said.
Asuka stood up straight immediately. She pulled her head away from his chest. The sudden absence of her body heat left his skin feeling uncomfortably cold.
She looked him directly in the eye. It was the exact same cold, dead look she used when she rejected him behind the gym.
"Let's go," she commanded.
They walked out of the classroom together. Asuka took the lead, stepping confidently into the busy corridor. Zenjiro followed quietly behind her, matching her steady pace.
Down the long hallway, several students recognized her. A group of girls waved enthusiastically from near the shoe lockers.
Asuka waved back instantly. She offered bright, happy greetings using her perfectly sweet voice. She laughed at a quick joke a passing boy made.
Zenjiro watched the seamless performance from behind.
Look at her, Zenjiro thought bitterly. She successfully pretends to be a sweet, polite girl. They don't know her true face at all. She is entirely fake.
He shifted his gaze, looking directly at Asuka's back while they walked.
Her posture was perfectly straight. Her dark uniform fit her flawlessly. The white blouse tucked neatly into her pleated skirt highlighted the narrow curve of her waist. She was undeniably pretty. From a purely physical standpoint, she was the perfect girl.
A sudden, violent urge flared in his chest. He desperately wanted to step forward and hug her from behind out of the blue. He wanted to wrap his arms tight around her waist and pull her back against him.
He clenched his hands into tight fists, forcing himself to restrain the dangerous impulse.
He lowered his eyes and looked below the swaying hem of her dark blue skirt.
He saw the back of her bare thighs. The pale, flawless skin caught the bright fluorescent lights of the hallway with every single step she took.
The loud background noise of the crowded school simply vanished from his ears. The chatting students faded into meaningless gray blurs in his peripheral vision. The surrounding lockers and classrooms disappeared entirely.
The only thing left in front of his eyes was the body of the girl walking ahead of him.
He stared intently at her moving thighs again.
I can really touch those smooth and pale thighs for as long as I want?
The dark thought echoed loudly in his empty mind.
This is incredible.
They navigated the twisting corridors and walked out the back doors of the main building. The warm air inside the school gave way to a crisp, cool breeze.
They stepped onto the cracked concrete path leading toward the edge of the campus. Tall, wild weeds grew unchecked along the chain-link fence. The area was completely abandoned. Nobody ever came back here during the lunch hour.
They finally arrived at the rusted metal doors of the old gymnasium. It was incredibly secluded.
Asuka stopped walking.
She slowly turned her body around to face him. The cool air blew past the brick walls. A strong gust of wind caught her dark hair, waving the long strands gently across her pale cheeks.
It looked exactly like the very first moment he ever saw her in the sunlit classroom.
But her face was completely different now. The sweet, polite mask was entirely gone. Her features were locked into a hard, rigid expression. Her dark eyes held a heavy, serious weight.
When she finally spoke, her voice was no longer the sweet, ringing melody from the hallway. It was a low, flat, and serious tone.
"Zenjiro-kun, why are you avoiding me?"