The school had been surprisingly generous. Not only had they offered an extra room to the art club, but they'd officially assigned it as an exclusive activity space. Natsukawa Kanade was already aware of this—he'd helped process the paperwork himself during student council duties. What he hadn't expected, however, was that the right to use the room would land squarely in the hands of that little blonde artist.
Apparently, being the "ace" of the art club wasn't just some title they threw around.
Still, calling it a "room" was a bit of a stretch. It was, at its core, an old storage space—stacked with all sorts of random junk and leftover equipment that hadn't seen the light of day in years. Cleaning it out wasn't going to be a one-afternoon job.
Honestly, Kanade suspected the rest of the art club had taken one look at the mess, weighed their options, and decided it just wasn't worth it. Better to hand it off to their golden child as a reward—and maybe dodge the responsibility altogether.
"So, did you come here to check out your spoils, ojou-sama… or are you actually planning to gasp clean it yourself?" Kanade asked, arching a brow.
With Eriri's personality, he figured there was about a one-in-a-hundred chance she had any intention of scrubbing floors. The only time she ever worked hard was when she was drawing, completely lost in her manga world. Outside of that? Extreme procrastination.
Eriri puffed out her cheeks, clearly offended. "Hmph! What kind of rude look is that? I do work, you know! I do my share of classroom duties every day!"
"That's called 'the bare minimum,'" Kanade said dryly. "If you couldn't even keep up that perfect 'ojou-sama' act, your entire image would collapse."
"Urusai!" Eriri pouted, giving him the classic tsundere glare. She looked like she wanted to ignore him, maybe even give him the cold shoulder for the rest of the day—but the moment passed quickly. A glimmer of mischief sparkled in her eyes.
Since she was already here… and since he had nothing else to do… why not make use of the moment?
"Hmph!" she declared proudly. "Because of that disrespectful comment, I've decided you'll help me! Consider it punishment! If you say no, then clearly you're the lazy one here!"
Kanade blinked. "That's… quite the leap in logic."
But still, he had some free time. Helping wouldn't kill him.
"Alright, alright," he said, cracking his knuckles for dramatic effect. "I'll show you the hidden power of Natsukawa Kanade: Labor God Mode."
He slapped his chest like a shounen protagonist gearing up for battle—though in truth, it had been ages since he'd done any real chores. Back home, his "angel" of a housemate usually took care of all the cleaning before he even noticed something needed to be done.
That said, this was just a dusty storage room. Move some boxes, sweep the floor, maybe mop a bit. Easy enough.
"Okay, I'll go grab some water," Kanade said, setting his school bag down by the door. "While I'm gone, check if there's anything worth keeping. If you don't need it, I'll move it out."
"Roger that~!" Eriri replied cheerfully, already beginning to poke through an old pile of canvas frames.
Kanade nodded and headed off to fetch a bucket. He didn't expect any trouble, just a quick trip there and back.
But the moment he returned, bucket in hand, the peaceful atmosphere was shattered.
As soon as he pushed open the door, a blur of blonde rushed at him like a cannonball.
"Wha—!?"
He barely had time to react before a soft weight crashed into his chest. His arms instinctively caught the girl mid-leap.
"Eriri?!"
They had only been apart for, what, two minutes? No way she missed him that much.
"There's a ghost!" Eriri wailed, her arms tightening around him. Her face was pale, her voice trembling. "I saw it move! I swear, that skeleton—it moved!"
"…You've gotta be kidding me," Kanade sighed.
She was clearly panicking, her imagination running wild like a horror movie heroine. This was textbook "I watched too much anime last night" syndrome. She must've convinced herself something was off, and her brain did the rest.
"Well then," he said calmly, "stay back and leave that side to me. I'll take care of it."
His arms were still around her, steadying her. Somewhere along the way, his hand had landed on her… uh, backside. He froze.
Yep. Not that little anymore.
If Kasumigaoka-senpai's "size" was a mark of her elegance and maturity, Eriri's was more… spatially dominant. Somehow, she managed to take up twice the room despite being shorter.
It wasn't just her curves that caught Kanade off guard. As he subconsciously inhaled, a soft fragrance tickled his senses—a delicate sweetness laced with a fruity undertone. But it wasn't just fruit; there was a faint floral scent too, like spring petals caught in the breeze. It was pleasant. Calming, even.
So this was the smell of girls, huh? No wonder mosquitoes always targeted them more. Compared to sweaty high school boys, they were practically walking aromatherapy diffusers.
Eriri was still clinging tightly to his neck, her small figure dangling slightly. She was petite enough that when she latched onto him, her feet barely touched the ground. To keep her from slipping, Kanade naturally held her steady with both hands. Just as he was preparing to gently set her down—
"Excuse me… I came to check on the cleaning…"
A new voice, hesitant and awkward, pierced the moment like a badly timed anime commercial break.
The two froze and turned in unison, like characters caught red-handed in a romantic comedy.
Standing at the door was a girl Kanade didn't recognize. She wore the school uniform and had short-cut hair with a timid presence. She stared at them with wide eyes, one hand covering her mouth, the other shakily pointing.
"I-I was sent by the club president to check on the room… N-no, I didn't know you two were… I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to interrupt!!"
Before either of them could respond, the girl spun around in a panic and bolted. She even had the courtesy to shut the door behind her with a click that echoed louder than it should have.
Dead silence.
Kanade and Eriri turned back toward each other slowly, both still in the exact same position.
"…Q-quickly put me down!" Eriri stammered, her face glowing a shade of red that could rival a freshly boiled octopus.
Without a word, Kanade complied, gently lowering her feet to the floor. Then, as if surrendering to the police, he raised both hands.
"My hands didn't go anywhere weird. I was just keeping you balanced so you didn't fall."
He kept his voice calm, neutral, factual. Whether she believed him or not… well, that was her call.
"…"
Eriri said nothing.
She merely turned away slightly, lips pressed together, and brought her hands behind her back—right over the area he had, unintentionally, supported. Her mind had gone full tilt. Her thoughts spun wildly, her ears burned, and her entire body felt like it was heating up from the inside out.
Normally, she would've gone full-on tsun mode, yelling and flailing to cover up her embarrassment. But after… well, several accidental close encounters with Kanade recently, she had apparently built up a bit of tolerance. Her mental firewall wasn't fully down, but at least she wasn't crashing completely.
"I-I'm going to the restroom!" she blurted out, eyes darting around like she was looking for the emergency exit in a dream. And without waiting for a reply, she dashed out of the room like a startled cat.
"…Right," Kanade sighed, scratching the back of his head.
He didn't chase after her. There wasn't much he could say right now anyway, and besides, charging after her would probably make things worse. Instead, he turned back to the task at hand.
Might as well keep cleaning.
He worked in silence for a long while, sweeping the floor, sorting old art supplies, and clearing boxes. By the time Eriri finally reappeared at the doorway, the room had been transformed. Nearly spotless.
Kanade was wiping down the final shelf when he noticed her standing there.
Her expression was… conflicted. A mix of shame, determination, and something else—something softer. She looked around the tidy room, then back at Kanade, then back at the room again. And then frowned.
She was supposed to enjoy the process of cleaning together with him. But thanks to that earlier… scene, she'd ended up doing nothing. And Kanade had done everything. If she just let the day end like this, it would definitely feel like she had slacked off.
That couldn't happen. Not when she had been so excited about working side by side with him.
So she straightened her posture, raised her chin a little, and declared, "Thank you for your hard work, Kanade! You must be super tired, right? I'll give you a massage!"
Kanade blinked.
She was… serious?
Her eyes sparkled with a rare kind of conviction, and he could tell this wasn't just a throwaway line to cover embarrassment. She genuinely wanted to make up for her absence.
"Alright," he said with a small smile. "Then I'll leave it to you."
He'd let her give him a facial massage before—not exactly professional, but oddly relaxing. If this was her way of showing appreciation, he had no reason to refuse.
"Okay, okay, hurry and lie down!" Eriri patted the large table confidently, like a general commanding her troops.
Kanade's smile froze. "…Lie down?"
"Of course! How else am I supposed to do a proper massage?" she said, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world.
He stared at her, then looked at the table.
"…Can't I just sit? My shoulders are the only thing that really needs it."
"No way!" Eriri stomped one foot. "You did all the cleaning! You think I'd only give you a half-hearted massage? I'll do your shoulders, back, and thighs! Don't underestimate me!"
Kanade: "..."
Wait. Thighs too? Was that really necessary?
This wasn't exactly the reward he imagined.
But it was Eriri. And her doujinshi artist brain probably saw this as normal anatomy research or something. Her dedication to her craft really went in strange directions sometimes.
"Stop hesitating! Hurry and lie down already!" she urged.
Natsukawa Kanade had no choice.
When Eriri pushed him toward the makeshift massage table—actually just two desks shoved together—he silently obeyed. Resistance was futile, and besides, the determination blazing in her eyes left little room for negotiation.
Still, just to be safe, Kanade turned and gave the storage room door another check. Locked tight. Good. After what had happened earlier, he wasn't about to leave things to fate again. They weren't doing anything weird… probably. But lying down flat while a girl hovered over you and claimed she was giving you a "thorough massage" definitely had the optics of something weird.
He sighed and slowly settled down onto the tables, shifting a little to get comfortable. No matter how he positioned himself, though, it was awkward. The desks were hard, narrow, and just a bit too short. Still, he endured. If he didn't, Eriri might actually explode.
Luckily, she didn't ask him to take off any clothing first. Small blessings.
"Okay… Here I go," Eriri murmured, sounding uncharacteristically shy.
Her hands pressed lightly against his shoulders. Her touch was warm—really warm, actually. Almost too warm, even through his summer uniform. She began to knead his shoulders gently, her movements careful and oddly precise. For a moment, Kanade was genuinely impressed. Had she practiced this?
But then… the realization hit him.
This wasn't a massage. This was… petting. Soft, slow strokes. Like someone trying to coax a scared puppy to calm down. He could feel her hands moving, sure, but they didn't dig into his muscles or relieve any tension. If anything, it felt like being tickled.
He had to fight the urge to laugh several times.
"Umm… Eriri," Kanade muttered, keeping his voice neutral. "You can go a little harder, y'know? My shoulders might just be really stiff."
"Ah—s-sou ka… I see." Eriri nodded, clearly a bit flustered. "I'll try!"
The truth was, she already was trying. As hard as she could, in fact. Her arms weren't built for this kind of effort. Practicing on her mother was one thing—her mom would always complain that even a little pressure was too much. But Kanade? His shoulders were like steel. No matter how hard she pushed, it felt like she wasn't even making a dent.
And leaning awkwardly from the side wasn't helping.
Maybe… maybe the problem wasn't her strength. Maybe it was the angle?
"I'll be right back," she said suddenly. "Don't move!"
Kanade blinked. "Huh?"
Eriri marched off and returned a few seconds later—dragging a chair behind her.
"…A chair?" Kanade asked, confused.
"Yup! Don't move, okay? I'm gonna sit on it," she declared confidently.
Kanade paused, his brow furrowing. "What does you sitting on a chair have to do with me not moving?"
Eriri didn't answer. Instead, she placed the chair behind him and let out a breath. "Yosh… here goes."
Then came the sound. A strange, strained, effort-filled panting: "Ei… yo… ei… yo…"
Kanade's eyes narrowed. "Wait… that doesn't sound like—"
Suddenly, he felt it.
A gentle weight pressed down on his lower back. Followed by… softness.
He froze.
"…No way."
If he was correct—and he desperately hoped he wasn't—Eriri had just climbed up and sat on him.
"What… are you doing?" he asked, his voice dangerously calm.
"Shh! Don't move!" she snapped back. "I need to sit still or I'll fall!"
"Nande yo…"
Kanade's soul left his body.
He wanted to yell, to argue, to scream at the sky for sending him down this path. But before he could even begin to formulate a retort—
Click.
The door creaked open again.
Oh no.
The same voice, exasperated and utterly done with life, spoke again. "I'm here to—wait, what…?"
For a moment, the room froze.
Three people locked eyes, none of them quite able to process the chaos unfolding in front of them. Then, with a choked gasp, the art club girl blurted out:
"W-Well! I'm so sorry to interrupt your… uh… f-fun! I'll disappear right now!"
Click. The door shut once again, almost too politely.
Kanade didn't even sigh anymore. He was past that. At this point, he was spiritually flatlining.
"If possible," he muttered, face planted against the desk, "I'd appreciate it if she didn't reappear for a fourth time…"
Needless to say, they had been completely, utterly, and spectacularly misunderstood. Again.
Kanade's heart felt heavy, like someone had jammed a futon inside it and then set it on fire. It wasn't embarrassment anymore—it was existential exhaustion.
Meanwhile, Eriri, still planted comfortably on his back like some smug little gremlin, looked entirely unfazed.
"What a strange person," she commented with a huff. "What was that even supposed to mean? Totally incomprehensible…"
Kanade: "…Oi."
He couldn't stop the deadpan stare, even though she couldn't see it.
You. It's you who's incomprehensible.
When exactly did this tsundere artist start cosplaying as a natural airhead? And could she really not grasp the catastrophic misunderstanding they were now buried under?
"She probably thinks we were doing something shady," Kanade explained, each word dropping like a weight.
Eriri blinked once. Then again. Finally, the lightbulb flickered on.
Her face turned scarlet, and she twitched on top of him—but notably, did not get off.
"E-Ehh?! W-Well… th-that's only because her thoughts are so dirty! Always jumping to weird conclusions!" she said quickly, though her voice cracked under the weight of her own hypocrisy.
Kanade resisted the urge to mutter nande yo under his breath.
The irony, of course, was that Eriri herself constantly came up with wild scenarios in her head. Maybe this was karmic balance.
"Doesn't matter if she's a stranger or not," Kanade sighed. "What's worrying is the possibility of rumors spreading."
"…Mou, don't look so down." Eriri tilted forward slightly, as if trying to console him. "Actually, she's from the art club. If it makes you feel better, I'll go explain things to her, okay?"
Kanade tilted his head to glance back at her. That sounded… halfway reasonable. But then again, this was Eriri. And Eriri explaining things usually meant at least one disaster along the way.
"You can explain," he said cautiously, "but just tell her the truth. Don't say anything extra."
"Tch! That tone! You make it sound like I'm some kind of walking disaster!" she puffed, cheeks ballooning. Then, as if to punish him, she smacked his back lightly.
Smack!
"…Ow," she winced, shaking out her hand. "What's up with your back?! It's so hard! Not comfy at all!"
"Then don't pat it?" Kanade shot back flatly. "And anyway, it's not like I chose to have muscles there."
"Urusai!" she growled and, feeling petulant, reached down and pinched the soft part of his waist with both fingers.
"Oi—!" Kanade gasped in shock.
"Heh. That's your punishment for always looking down on me!" Eriri grinned, clearly pleased with herself. "From now on, don't underestimate me!"
Kanade had no comeback.
…Well, what could he say, when he was literally under her right now?
For a few seconds, she looked triumphant, her golden twin tails swaying slightly as she adjusted her seat. But rather than get off, she leaned forward again and resumed the massage with a new sense of purpose.
This time, the pressure was noticeably stronger. Somehow, sitting directly on his back made it easier for her to push down with real force—and Kanade had to admit, his muscles finally started to feel a bit looser.
If only the situation weren't so utterly cursed.
Still, despite the awkwardness, the massage actually worked. Kind of. But every time she shifted, his brain screamed in protest.
In short… while it was nice that Eriri was finally taking this seriously…
For the love of all things sacred, please, let her get off soon.
His sanity depended on it.