As soon as he heard "Eromanga-sensei," Eriri perked up.
In fact, Eromanga-sensei debuted earlier than Eri Kashiwagi; Eriri had studied her illustrations in the past. But lately, for some reason, Eromanga-sensei's work had slipped—she'd been doing mostly loli-type pin-ups. Now that Hayashi Maki was saying there was a chance to collaborate, of course Eriri wanted to try.
These days Eriri was also workshopping with Mashiro—constantly grinding her fundamentals to raise her draftsmanship.
"I do want to meet Eromanga-sensei, but… she isn't some greasy otaku uncle, is she?" Eriri frowned at the thought.
Hayashi Maki chuckled and reassured her. "Relax—she's a beauty whose looks don't lose to yours. If she were a fat, creepy uncle, I wouldn't suggest you collaborate."
Eriri exhaled. "Good."
A cute-girl illustrator—especially for doujin—who can draw tasteful ecchi is rare. Having someone like-minded to trade notes with? Eriri was excited.
"Since you're interested, I'll ping Elf Yamada."
"Mhm—reach out for me. And set up a time to meet."
She was a fan of Yamada's, after all. For Elf Yamada's Isekai Fantasia series, she bought three copies of each volume—one to collect, one to evangelize, one to read.
"Eriri, are you in there?"
Right then, a clear, pleasant voice floated in from the door.
"Ah—Mom, I'm here. What is it?" Eriri blurted, instantly tense. She clapped a pale hand over a certain someone's roaming palm and hissed, "Don't you dare—if Mom finds out, I'm dead!"
Outside, Sawamura Sayuri paused, suspicious. "Eriri, I thought I heard a boy's voice. Was that my imagination?"
"Hah? How could there be a man's voice? Mom, didn't you sleep well? You need to rest!"
Eriri raised her voice on purpose, breathing a little fast. Sayuri thought about it—how could a man get into their house without her noticing? She must be exhausted—hearing things.
"Eriri, don't soak too long. It's bad for your health. Take it easy," she said gently, and turned away.
"Okay, Mom," Eriri answered sweetly, relief washing over her. Then she bit her lip and looked up, mortified, at the man lounging smugly in her bath. "You need to leave. If Mom sees you, how am I supposed to live that down?"
Hayashi Maki grinned and bent closer. "It's still early. Even if I do leave, I'm not going until Eriri's smiling."
"Y-you… mmph—pervert…"
She couldn't finish—the words were swallowed by his kiss.
…
A while later—
He tucked Eriri into bed, pulled the blanket over her, and dropped a soft kiss on her forehead before slipping out. Then he headed home.
Lying on his bed, Hayashi Maki felt a little bored—so he pulled out his phone and entered scoundrel mode. With multiple followers, he couldn't always visit in person; sometimes, he had to maintain ties by text.
He'd already checked in on Eriri; next up was Senpai. He fired off a message:
Hayashi Maki: Senpai, you there?
Utaha Kasumigaoka: Here.
Hayashi Maki: Whatcha doing?
Utaha: Guess, kouhai-kun. Prize if you're right.
"..." No need to guess. He had the God's-eye on his contracted partners. Given a choice between blind guessing and toggling the cheat, he picked the cheat.
Hayashi Maki: You're in the bath.
Utaha: My, how accurate. You didn't sneak in already, did you? Naughty boy…
Towel twisted around her hair, Utaha lounged lazily in the tub—white thighs glimmering beneath the foam, a pale cleavage drawing the eye.
Hayashi Maki: I'm not just naughty—I'm bad. But no, I'm still in my room.
Utaha: What a shame. If you came over now, we could share a bath.
Her message was bold; her cheeks were pink. She did know he had many girlfriends—all beautiful—and sometimes felt a pinch of jealousy. What girl doesn't want her other half to make a little time for her?
Hayashi Maki: Say less. I'm on my way!
He swallowed hard; the vision of a black-haired stunner in a bath made his feet itch. Utaha's lips curved.
Utaha: I wasn't lying. Coming?
A knock sounded at her door.
"Senpai—may I come in?"
"Ah—y-you really came?" Utaha stared, cheeks blazing.
"Of course. With an invitation like that, what normal man would pass it up? May I?"
She bit her lip. "Come in."
She wasn't one to break her word.
Click. The door opened. Hayashi Maki stepped in, eyes alight, dropped his clothes, and slid into the tub—arms encircling Utaha as they sank into the warmth.
She rested the back of her head on his chest and nuzzled in. He savored her soft warmth and slowly sealed her lips with his. Doing nothing wasn't his style. Utaha lived alone; no one would interrupt. Blushing, she looped her arms around his neck and returned his kiss.
After an unknowable stretch of time, Hayashi Maki dried off, tucked Utaha into bed, showered, and headed back home. Lying there, thinking of Senpai's allure, he smiled to himself.
This was living.
Maybe next time… put Senpai and Eriri together?