Realizing where her thoughts had gone, Kasumigaoka Utaha flushed.
A second later she pushed Hayashi Maki away and shot him a massive eye-roll.
"'Next time let Eriri watch us make out'—have you no shame?"
A girl still has to have some modesty. So after shoving him off, Utaha leaned in to watch Eriri draw instead.
And well—credit where it's due. What Hayashi Maki did really seemed to suppress Eriri's curse. A graceful female silhouette was already taking shape on the page; finally it wasn't that bizarre "cow-alien."
Before long, a series of anime beauties—each faintly resembling Utaha—appeared on the paper.
Hayashi Maki stepped over and couldn't help praising her.
"Nice, Eriri—super pretty. That's the Tsukimi Miyabi I had in mind. Looks like this is the real Kashiwagi Eri."
Hearing him use her pen name made Eriri blush. That name was famous for doujins; she worried he'd think she was some secretly lewd, easy girl.
Utaha nodded, satisfied.
"Seems I've got my illustrator for Love Metronome volume two. What do you say, Sawamura?"
Eriri shot her a look.
"Got it. Show me the draft and the character notes and I'll handle the art."
She knew to be grateful—without Utaha she wouldn't have gotten her groove back. So she'd take the job. And if Senpai's book hit again, the illustrator could break out, too. "Kashiwagi Eri only draws doujins" might finally be able to come ashore—go legit as an illustrator, maybe even a mangaka. The thought made her a little giddy.
Riding the momentum, Eriri kept drawing. She planned to finish Hayashi Maki's character sheets today, then spend the next two days polishing—adding scene designs to match the story.
Seeing Eriri hard at work, Utaha didn't idle either. She borrowed Hayashi Maki's laptop, slipped off her shoes, sat on his bed, and started typing. Maybe that kiss scene had jolted her—ideas were flowing, keys clacking. The noise made Eriri put on headphones.
With both girls grinding, Hayashi Maki suddenly had nothing to do. Since the laptop was taken, he couldn't write, so he pulled out his phone and messaged his other "familiars." Feelings need maintenance; if you can't meet, you text.
Before they knew it, morning was gone. Hayashi Maki didn't feel like cooking, so he ordered in. The three ate together, then discussed the illustrations. As their illustrator, Eriri listened carefully so she could deliver what they wanted. Once they settled into work, the distance between them shrank without anyone noticing.
After a few more sheets, Eriri stretched and yawned.
"Ugh… I'm a little sleepy."
Seeing how tired she looked, Hayashi Maki spoke up.
"You worked hard today, Eriri. Lie down and rest a bit—if girls overdo it, they get wrinkles."
"Eh—can I?" Eriri blushed and glanced at Utaha sitting on the edge of the bed. Was it really okay to nap on Hayashi Maki's bed? Wouldn't that be weird?
"Of course," Hayashi Maki said. "You're working on my novel's art. Borrow my bed for a bit. …Unless you mind a guy's bed?"
Head down, cheeks pink, Eriri murmured, "I don't mind… Th-thanks. I'll nap a little and get back to it."
She crawled onto the bed and shut her eyes, a bit tense.
"Senpai, you too? It's afternoon already—you must be tired."
"Mmm… a little," Utaha said. "Move over, Sawamura—I'm sleeping too."
"Mm…" Eriri pouted but shifted to make space, and Utaha lay down as well.
Watching two defenseless beauties stretched out on his bed, Hayashi Maki's lips quirked. As much as he wanted to do something naughty, the trust meter wasn't there yet. He tucked the blanket around them and quietly left the room.
Roughly forty minutes later, Utaha stirred. Seeing the blonde girl with her face buried in Utaha's chest—and drooling—she was speechless.
What a terrible sleeper.
Noticing Hayashi Maki wasn't around, her mood turned… complicated. He hadn't taken advantage? With such a perfect chance? Then again, that meant Kouhai-kun was gentle.
Staring at the still-snoozing Eriri, Utaha didn't indulge her—she pinched Eriri's cheeks and tugged them apart.
"Up you get, Sawamura!"
"Mm—uu!"
Eriri blinked awake, eyes watery, then bristled.
"Why wake me up? You damn busty woman in black stockings!"
Utaha arched a brow, smirking as she pinched Eriri's face again.
"'Busty woman in black stockings'? So that's how I look to you?"
"What a shame. This 'busty woman in black stockings' figure is something you'll probably never achieve."
"Ugh, please—it's just a little bigger up top. Big deal. It must be heavy and inconvenient. My build is more agile and doesn't get in the way."
She even puffed out her chest a bit, feeling smug.
Utaha's look was pure disdain.
"Don't be so sour. Look—your drool soaked my top. With a sleep posture that awful, if Maki-kun saw it he'd regret kissing you."
"K-K-Kasumigaoka Utaha! What are you talking about? My sleep posture is not that bad… and he wouldn't regret kissing a beauty like me!"
Eriri's face flared red as the memory of that blush-inducing kiss flooded back. Utaha didn't bother arguing; she just pointed to the damp spot on her chest.
The evidence was right there. Drooling-in-her-sleep, pervy doujin-artist junior—what else did she have to say?
~~~
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