Although Class Rep’s offer sounded suggestive, Akira was already used to her teasing. He quickly categorized it as something like a “date coupon” or “free errand pass.”
“A full day of your time, huh… Sounds nice at first, but on second thought, I can’t really think of anything I’d want from you that badly.”
Seeing Akira’s lukewarm reaction might’ve annoyed Hitomi in the past, but by now, she’d grown accustomed to his indifference.
Mainly, she’d finally understood why Akira seemed utterly immune to what she thought were irresistible temptations: he was too practical, never fantasizing about impossible scenarios. Explicit teasing was simply dismissed as joking, and he’d never actually make unreasonable demands—so he never got flustered.
And there was another reason Hitomi reluctantly acknowledged: perhaps her own looks and figure just weren’t enough to trigger Akira’s desire.
Akira had notoriously high standards for women.
She’d noticed, through careful observation, exactly where his gaze landed: Shiroi Shiori’s face and hands, Aizono Momo’s chest, and her own legs.
Akira openly stared at them, without even trying to hide it. Momo likely noticed but was too shy to comment, while Shiori not only noticed but seemed faintly proud—a lingering aftereffect of the naked dogeza incident.
Hitomi herself deliberately drew his gaze, intentionally experimenting to discover his tastes.
For example, she’d recently noticed Akira looked at her legs more often when she wore OTK socks, so she switched exclusively to OTKs ever since.
Next, she planned to test his preference for different colors and fabrics.
Discovering Akira’s tastes through subtle experimentation felt more satisfying than directly asking. Like when she prepared bentos or fed him lunch, mentally noting down each dish he enjoyed—it felt like playing a puzzle game she greatly enjoyed.
Yet, despite her best efforts, Hitomi hadn’t once elicited an expression from Akira stronger than “pretty good.”
It made her seriously wonder if any girl existed who could draw a genuinely mesmerized reaction from him.
Or perhaps…these mild teases simply weren’t stimulating enough for him.
“Geez, Akira-kun, sometimes I seriously wonder if you’re even a normal high school boy.”
“Heh.”
Sorry, but you’re right—I’m not, Akira silently retorted.
Hitomi knew playful verbal teasing wouldn’t suffice if she genuinely wanted Akira’s heart to race. Mere words weren’t enough—she had to back them up with action. So she took a deep breath and clarified once more:
“I said full access to me for a day, didn’t I? During that day, Akira-kun, you can ask me to do absolutely anything you want. Anything. At. All.”
Having spelled it out this clearly, even Akira wasn’t dense enough to miss her point. He straightforwardly asked:
“In other words…even lewd stuff?”
Hitomi placed her hands confidently on her hips.
“That depends. Anything overly extreme is obviously off-limits.”
“But you’d be the one deciding what’s ‘too extreme,’ right? That makes the offer pretty meaningless.”
After all, if he actually tried something and she rejected every advance, Akira would feel like he’d been scammed.
The conversation reminded Hitomi of their first meeting, when they’d playfully argued over rules about peeking under skirts—exact distances, durations, and even underwear styles had been thoroughly debated. She smiled fondly at the memory.
Actually, she’d recently flashed Akira intentionally, although using a special method. Whether he’d clearly seen anything depended on his dynamic vision.
He’d glimpsed something pinkish-white that day, but in truth, Hitomi had been wearing completely transparent white ice-silk panties.
It was the first time she’d dared to wear something so bold to school. To avoid accidental exposure, she’d matched her skirt length with Shiori and Momo’s, reaching past her knees—allowing her to jokingly cover Akira’s head with it.
In short, her panties had contained zero pink, so the color Akira had seen was…
“True enough,” Hitomi conceded, “so let me clearly define your allowed ‘scope of action.’ First, looking is completely fine. You can see everything.”
“Everything?”
“Yes, everything. Just like your bet with Shiori… I can match it.”
Meaning total nudity!
“Also, Akira-kun, you can choose whatever outfits you want me to wear.”
“How about the clothes themselves?”
“If you tell me in advance, I’ll prepare them beforehand.”
Now the value of this “one-day pass” suddenly skyrocketed.
Images of Hitomi in various cosplay outfits immediately flashed through Akira’s mind, igniting his interest at once.
But Hitomi still wasn’t done raising the stakes.
“And besides just looking, touching is also permitted—within limits. Specifically, you can touch me anywhere except these three places here, here, and here.”
Naturally, Hitomi indicated the three bikini-covered spots clearly.
Akira, however, promptly questioned the geometric details.
“Are the forbidden areas just points or entire zones?”
The difference was crucial: could he freely roam over the hemispheres, provided he avoided the peaks? What about the lower body—could he touch the peach as long as he avoided the pit?
Hitomi, sharp as always, immediately grasped Akira’s meaning. After considering for a moment, she generously amended:
“Hm, just points.”
Akira felt excitement surge through him, quickly followed by unease as he realized something critical.
“Hold on… Class Rep, have you seriously thought this through? If you genuinely open yourself up to me that much, we might lose control and floor the gas pedal all the way.”
Hitomi calmly nodded in agreement.
“I’ve considered that too. After carefully thinking it over, I still decided I’m comfortable opening myself up to you to this degree.”
What did she mean by that?
Was she implying that even going all the way was acceptable?
Would that even still count as friendship?
Was this about becoming friends with benefits?
The meaning changed entirely, didn’t it?
Could their pure friendship survive something like that?
Although, admittedly, their friendship already contained ambiguous undertones…
Or perhaps Class Rep just trusted his self-control that much—believing even if things escalated, he’d hit the brakes in time.
But Class Rep… I’m neither a saint nor impotent…
You’re seriously overestimating my self-control, Anri Hitomi.
At this point, it wasn’t a simple reward anymore.
You’re playing with fire.
—
T/N: WOAH WOAH WHAT THE HECK??? otk socks are just below the knee socks
This is a fan translation of 东京软饭王 by 夜幕下的鬼 All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!
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