Can't We Skip Dating?

"...Why are you just standing there?"

Akira finally opened his eyes and looked at her, confused as to why she was staring blankly at the doorway.

Utaha didn't answer. She was still thinking.

Without realizing it, she had already received a lot from him. Even if his motives were far from pure, she had benefited—and was willing to accept that.

If so, then maybe it was time to repay him a little.

Having been influenced by Akira's worldview, she'd developed a bit of aversion toward being in debt—and took "repayment" very seriously.

So she asked a question that left Akira a little baffled.

"Would you like to get up, Ogiwara-san?"

Akira, for the first time, couldn't read this woman. He looked puzzled. "Sure... I guess. Is something up?"

Getting that answer, Utaha walked toward the bed.

If it were the old her, she would never have done something like this—because her heart belonged to someone else.

But lately, that someone had left so many wounds in her heart—some of them so deep that just regaining her reason and enduring the pain might be enough to push him out of her heart entirely.

And so, this damaged, empty heart finally returned to her. It now belonged to her alone, allowing her to do things she would never have done before.

Like—offering a gesture that could be considered "repayment" in response to Akira's "desire."

"Time to get up, Ogiwara-san~"

She leaned down and whispered softly in his ear.

Akira, surprised and pleased, opened his eyes. "Is this... wake-up service?"

"Yes. I was wondering if it was... to your liking."

Suddenly, Akira sat up, grabbed her hand, and yanked the flustered Utaha down onto the bed.

He pinned her shoulder with one hand to stop her from moving and, full of confusion, said, 

"It's nice and all, but Kasumigaoka-san, aren't you being a little too trusting? When did you start thinking of me as some harmless herbivore male lead?"

This completely unexpected development left Utaha dumbfounded.

Maybe it was because Akira, despite all his talk, had never once looked at her lecherously.

Maybe it was because he had never entered her room without permission or even knocked on her door.

Humans tend to judge by comparison. 

So subconsciously, she compared him to the only familiar standard—Tomoya—and filed Akira under the same "safe" category.

She forgot that their "safety" came from entirely different reasons.

The thought of safety sparked a potential escape excuse in her mind—but above her, Akira's towering figure and unfamiliar male presence clouded her thoughts, preventing her from catching that flash of inspiration.

And she really didn't want to admit that the first emotion that had formed within her was... excitement.

Which, really, wasn't strange. 

When logic fails, instinct takes over. 

And if there's no deep sense of guilt or repressive chastity, a good-looking man with a toned body like Akira would trigger most women's attraction instinct.

So yes—it was basically a face issue.

Her helpless confusion brought Akira a certain delight. 

He gently stroked her soft cheek with his thumb and teased, "What's wrong, Kasumigaoka-san? Don't tell me you were planning to please me even more?"

Utaha finally snapped back to herself. She tried instinctively to twist away, but that was the worst possible response.

She was lying right across Akira's legs. Any movement she made—visually or physically—would only have the opposite effect.

Akira's smile faded. He pressed her shoulder more firmly. "If you don't behave, I'll have you start a new manuscript tomorrow."

Utaha froze the moment she processed what "start a new manuscript" meant. She didn't dare move an inch.

Luckily, her thinking was back. Though not her usual sharpness, it was enough to recall that brief flash of insight.

"You... won't touch me."

"Oh? Why?" Akira asked, amused.

"Because you wouldn't do anything so low, and you wouldn't force a deal on me."

"Valid reasoning. Congratulations, you've saved your body, Kasumigaoka-san."

Akira let her go.

Utaha rolled away, slid off the bed—and almost fell down from weak knees. That was... a bit too intense for her.

Only then did she realize how fast her heart was pounding, and how hard she was breathing, like she'd just run a kilometer.

"Okay then, Kasumigaoka-san, please help me by closing the door on your way out. Or, if you'd rather stay... I don't mind either."

Utaha stumbled out, fled to her room, and locked the door behind her.

Akira looked at the wide-open door to his room and sighed helplessly.

...

Just as Utaha had said—Akira would never do anything indecent. 

That would be... inelegant. He wouldn't force anyone into a deal either. That would go against his rules.

As for impulses? He wasn't some horny high school boy nicknamed "walking desire." 

He had more than enough healthy outlets and wasn't about to lose control over one girl's little antics.

That said, Utaha wasn't just any high school girl. She was... a somewhat indecent life goal he'd picked up along the way during his increasingly stagnant existence.

He got out of bed, freshened up, dressed, and returned to his image as the well-groomed gentleman scoundrel. Then he knocked on Utaha's door.

"Hmm, shall we check if there's anything good on the delivery apps? Or go out for some... brunch? My treat today."

He was in a great mood now that he'd received a "small recompense."

No response.

Akira tried the doorknob, confirmed it was locked, then turned and headed downstairs. A few minutes later, he returned with a stack of delivery menus.

"I'll read some out. You pick what you like—tempura, tonkotsu ramen, grilled eel rolls, foie gras, salmon belly, salted mackerel..."

Utaha was a very patient and composed woman. Even if she was starving, she wouldn't give in so easily to such cheap tactics.

She lasted through seven menu pages before finally opening the door with a cold face.

"Ogiwara-san, is this your idea of refinement? Harassing a high school girl's body and mind, and then torturing her stomach for five minutes outside her door?"

Akira smiled and moved in. 

"I thought someone as mature and calm as you wouldn't be shaken by something like that—okay, I apologize. 

You're just too attractive. And if apologies aren't enough, I can throw in a few more compliments."

Utaha slammed the door shut again.

Akira took a breath, about to resume reading off menu items—when a pale hand reached out from the cat door at the bottom of the door.

"Give me the menu. I'll choose myself…"

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