Anri Hitomi noticed that the previously disinterested Kuroba Akira had suddenly sharpened up, his gaze now resembling that of the calculating businessmen she'd seen before.
It was the kind of look that could weigh the value of anything—including a person.
That look reminded her of her own mother. But unlike her mother, Kuroba's eyes didn't make her feel afraid.
She knew he was signaling her to "renegotiate the offer," but Anri played dumb.
"Didn't I already name the reward? I figured joining the Literature Club would be a great opportunity for Kuroba-kun too. Who knows, you might even run into some heart-pounding moments."
"Class Rep, I'm a very practical person. I don't treat real life like a dating sim."
And besides, even if this were a galgame, the phrase "heart-pounding" paired with the Literature Club would probably imply a cardiac arrest.
"That's true. After all, Kuroba-kun doesn't even get flustered around me. You seem pretty comfortable dealing with girls."
"Flustered?"
"Mm. Not to brag, but most boys tend to get nervous when talking to me. And the ones who don't usually give me that creepy stare."
"Well, you are really pretty, Class Rep."
High school boys were just walking sacks of hormones. Faced with a beautiful girl—especially someone like the Class Rep, who had top-tier looks—it was only natural to stare. Some of them probably wouldn't even get tired of looking at her every day.
"Thank you for the compliment. But your gaze doesn't give me that kind of uncomfortable feeling."
"Are you trying to say I've got dead fish eyes or something?"
"Hehe, actually, I like how you look at me. It feels like I'm being… genuinely seen. That's not flattery this time—I mean it."
"Much obliged. So then, Class Rep—what exactly are you offering to buy me with?"
Kuroba dropped the act and threw a fastball straight down the middle.
Anri realized there was no more room for negotiation and steeled herself.
"I understand… Give me a moment."
With that, she turned and ran off.
Kuroba blinked, watching her go.
Where's she going?
Then he recalled what he'd just said—and it hit him.
Wait… is she going to get money?
Wouldn't that make it extortion?
"Wait, Class Rep, I didn't mean—"
Too late. She was already gone.
Should he chase after her?
No. Better to wait and clear it up once she came back.
A few minutes later, Anri returned.
But unlike before, she wasn't jogging. Her hands were holding the front and back of her skirt, and her steps were tiny, almost like she was shuffling along the ground.
When she reached the vending machine, her face was noticeably red—maybe from the heat, maybe from embarrassment.
Just seeing the way she walked, Kuroba had a pretty good guess what she'd done.
But it was just so absurd, so beyond the bounds of common sense, that part of him refused to believe it could be true.
And yet, Anri Hitomi—being the unique brain she was—still proved through action that she operated on a whole different wavelength.
She took something wrapped in a handkerchief out of her pocket and held it out to Kuroba. She even thoughtfully added an explanation:
"Um… it's really hot today, so the smell might be a little strong… If you want it clean, I can wash it and bring it tomorrow instead. But I heard that guys prefer the… um, original scent…"
"…Huh? What are you talking about, Class Rep?"
Kuroba played dumb on instinct.
Anri tilted her head and asked sincerely:
"Isn't this what you wanted, Kuroba-kun?"
"..."
Take it?
Could he actually accept it?
This felt way more extreme than taking money.
But it wasn't like he'd asked for this—she'd offered it completely of her own accord.
Maybe their earlier conversation had given her the wrong idea. She might've thought Kuroba was only interested in that.
If anyone found out about this, he'd definitely be branded a pervert.
Then again… if word got out that he had a summer-limited, sweat-enhanced, original-scent pair of panties from the Class Rep—top student and beauty of the year—maybe someone would actually pay big money for it...
"No! Wait! I can't! Let's just forget this happened!"
While he was still weighing the pros and cons, Anri had already withdrawn the handkerchief and its... contents.
"Why the sudden change? Regret finally caught up with your maiden shame?"
"It's because you were thinking about selling them, weren't you?"
"Uh…"
It was only a passing thought, but somehow she picked up on it. Her reading-the-room skills were scarily high.
"If Kuroba-kun kept them for personal use, I'd be okay with it. But if you were planning to sell them… that'd make me uncomfortable. So forget it."
"Personal use?! What would I even do with them…"
"Hmm… brew tea? Make a mask? Use them as spellcasting material?"
"…Class Rep, you're secretly a filthy-minded old man, aren't you? Bet you've been secretly reading lots of 'educational material.'"
"I don't understand what you're talking about."
"Of course you don't."
"…Still, I must've really lost my head from the heat—thinking something so filthy could buy Kuroba-kun…"
She gave a small sigh.
"Let's do it properly. Kuroba-kun, you name your price. Anything but that."
"Class Rep… haven't you already seen my situation? You really don't know what I'm lacking most right now?"
Kuroba raised his hand and made a money gesture.
Money.
Cash.
Give me money!
I'm a student—fund me!
"I do know what you need most."
Anri held up the crisp ¥1,000 bill that had been returned from the vending machine due to timeout, unfolding it in her hand.
"I just don't think buying you with ¥1,000 is... appropriate."
"Oh? So I'm worth more than that? The more you offer, the happier I'll be."
"I do have more money. But I want to use something of my own to buy you—not what my parents gave me."
"…Fine. No cash deal, then."
Kuroba's easygoing acceptance made Anri blink in surprise.
"You're okay with that? I thought you'd be disappointed and call the whole thing off."
"Well… it's a matter of principle, isn't it?"
Using your parents' money for something like this definitely felt wrong.
"I see…"
Anri smiled, genuinely this time. It seemed she was a little happy about that response.
"Then, Kuroba-kun—what do you want? As long as it's something I can give you, I'm willing to offer it."
As she said it, another thought bloomed quietly in her heart.
What do I even have to offer?
That question had always lingered deep inside Anri Hitomi—a quiet, persistent doubt.
If she couldn't rely on her family or her background, or even the value of her appearance…
Was there anything of her own that she could truly offer?
She didn't know the answer.
Which is why… she wanted to hear it from him.
If his eyes were truly like her mother's—sharp and discerning—then maybe he could see it.
Please tell me.
Tell me what I'm really worth.
---
T/N: praying rn