The King of Tokyo Freeloaders [53]

After patting her head for a while, Kuroba Akira withdrew his hand. He knew better than to overstep with the class rep.

Anri Hitomi looked slightly disappointed—like she hadn’t quite gotten her fill—but she quickly turned her head to the side and used her right hand to tuck her hair behind her left ear, subtly shielding her face with her right forearm.

“By the way, class rep, I heard you once said you’d only make bentō for your future husband…”

“Mm, I did say that back then.”

She didn’t look surprised—no ‘I said something like that?’ expression. Which meant she still remembered.

“It actually started when the others found out I was learning to cook. They kept pestering me to make something for them, so to shut them up, I told them I’d only cook for my future husband.”

“Yeah, that’s about what I figured… but you know, Sumiya Ryouta heard that and assumed I must be your fiancé.”

“I see… but you can’t really blame Ryouta-kun. That wasn’t just an excuse—I did mean it, at least partially. Back then, I really had made up my mind that I’d only cook for my future husband.”

“Class rep, you say stuff like that now, and even I might get the wrong idea. But this is just a transactional relationship, right?”

“Marriage is a transactional relationship too, you know?”

Akira rolled his eyes. Sure, it was something he agreed with in theory, but the way she said it… it was clear the class rep wasn’t being serious. She’d switched into that “teasing the clueless virgin” mode again—just like when she asked “Wanna see my panties?”

But I can’t let her keep getting the upper hand! Time to strike back!

“Then class rep, do you want to marry me?”

Anri Hitomi actually paused and seemed to give it real thought before replying,

“Hmm… if you’re okay with marrying into my family, I wouldn’t mind.”

“I do mind.”

“Well, that’s a shame. My family probably wouldn’t let me take my husband’s surname anyway. But if I’m still single at thirty, my family will likely have given up on me by then. So if you’re still unmarried by then too, I’ll marry you.”

“Oh, I know this one. The classic ambiguous pact between childhood friends—‘If we’re both still single at thirty, let’s get married.’ And usually, one of them ends up marrying someone else right away.”

“Will you get married right away, Kuroba-kun?”

“Heh. I’m a man destined to become a great archmage.”

After all, in his past life, he’d nearly qualified for the title.

Anri understood the joke. Smiling with a saintly gentleness, she replied,

“Then how about this? Marriage still feels too far off, and too uncertain. Let’s make a different kind of pact: if you reach thirty and still haven’t had any experience, I’ll help you graduate.”

“Wow. I’m really touched. I suddenly feel highly motivated to survive until thirty.”

“Which is why I’ll remain pure until then. I wouldn’t want to sully your body, Kuroba-kun.”

Wait—so she’s just assuming I’ll still be a virgin at thirty?

It’s one thing to joke about himself that way, but hearing someone else say it so seriously made his blood pressure spike. That was basically a curse.

“This pact just got way heavier. Class rep, could you not say stuff like that so casually? Even as a joke, that’s pretty terrifying.”

Though about seventy-five percent of that probably wasn’t even a joke... Anri thought to herself, while outwardly offering a mild smile.

“You really do have such a feather-light view of life, Kuroba-kun.”

“Go ahead and say I’m shallow. I won’t get mad. It’s true, anyway.”

Akira stood and stretched. Full stomach, satisfied mood—he felt the drowsiness creeping in.

But the day wasn’t over yet.

After wrapping up the bentō box, Anri turned to him and said,

“Well then, Kuroba-kun, shall we head to the Literature Club’s activity room? The other two members should already be there.”

“Oh yeah, speaking of which—are they your friends too, class rep?”

“Mm-hmm. I met them back in junior high—it was an all-girls school. We became close friends, and later promised to take the entrance exam for this high school together. All three of us made it in, though we ended up in different classes. They’re both in Class 3.”

“I see.”

If they were friends the class rep recognized, they were bound to be trustworthy.

“Let’s go meet them now. I have a feeling you’ll get along with them, Kuroba-kun.”

“You think so?”

“Yes. In fact, from a certain angle, you might even have more in common with them than you do with me.”

“Oh?”

That piqued Akira’s interest.

More in common with me? In what way? Lewd things?

Curious, he followed the class rep as they left the main building and headed toward the club building.

The club building was actually the school’s old wing. Though it had undergone some renovations, it still looked aged—just four stories tall, at least made of reinforced concrete, not one of those creaky wooden schoolhouses straight out of a horror movie.

Since Akira had been a proud member of the Go-Home Club up until now, this was his first time entering the building.

The moment they walked in, a strong smell of sweat hit them.

That was probably because all the athletic clubs used the first floor’s locker rooms. The stench made sense.

Rumor had it the girls’ clubs had already filed complaints—saying the sweat stench was unbearable and there was also a risk of peeping. They’d requested that the girls’ changing rooms be relocated to the second floor. The student council was currently reviewing the petition.

The smell faded somewhat on the second floor. From here on out, it was mostly smaller club rooms.

Most of the clubs here were third-rate ones that didn’t get much attention, or newly founded groups trying to get off the ground.

The elite clubs—soccer, kendo, ikebana, the wind ensemble—each had dedicated rooms or entire facilities. That showed where the school’s priorities lay: clubs that could place high in national competitions.

The Literature Club, by contrast, was tucked away at the far end of the second floor, in an unassuming corner.

Anri led Akira to the room and opened the door.

Immediately, the two girls inside turned their gazes toward them.

“Here, let me introduce you—this is our newest Literature Club member, Kuroba Akira.”

“Oh, domo~.”

Akira raised a hand casually in greeting.

“And Kuroba-kun, these are your new comrades. The cute one with the chest bigger than mine is Aizono Moe.”

“Uu… Hitomi-chan… My chest isn’t that big…”

The busty girl clutched her chest and murmured in a soft, delicate voice, clearly flustered.

So the class rep wasn’t kidding when she mentioned a club member with a bigger chest than hers.

From what Akira could tell, her size was comparable to that sporty girl he’d seen running this morning—Tomita Haruka. The kind that jiggled in every direction with enough bounce to hypnotize.

But unlike the sunny and athletic Haruka, this girl—Aizono Moe—had porcelain-white skin, even paler than Shiginomiya’s. She looked almost sickly.

“And the other one is Shirai Shiori. Though I think this isn’t your first time meeting her, right?”

“Oh… yeah. We’ve definitely met before.”

“……”

The cool-toned girl gave a slight nod—her version of a greeting.

This wasn’t their first encounter. In fact, back during the last semester, Akira had seen this girl nearly every school day.

She was the one who worked in the library. The librarian girl.

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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!