"...As expected of the class monitor."
In the end, Kuroha Akira could only offer this single sentence in response. It was, undeniably, very much like Asato Hitomi.
Still, he couldn't help feeling that her perspective was too rational. Too... unromantic.
From an adult's viewpoint, everything she said was unassailable. But even relationships destined to leave regrets could become precious memories. So many people reminisced about their student days precisely because the emotions back then were the most sincere—untainted by worldly calculations. That sincerity was nearly impossible to find after entering society.
He didn't intend to debate her, though. Changing the class monitor's mind wasn't his goal. Instead, he offered a casual observation.
"But isn't there that saying? All reasons for not wanting a partner are just excuses. You just haven't met the right person yet."
"Kuroha-kun, do you believe in so-called love at first sight?" She tilted her head. "I don't. What people call love at first sight is nothing more than sexual attraction generated by appearance and hormones."
She phrased it euphemistically, but Kuroha Akira translated easily: being horny. Having a crush. Simple biology dressed up as romance.
"Just like how I wanted to be friends with you," she continued. "It wasn't some inexplicable 'I want to be friends with this person!' moment the first time I saw you. I observed you for an entire semester plus summer vacation before confirming you were worth befriending."
"Class monitor, you're truly very cautious..."
"After all, I'm selecting friends to accompany me for life." Her smile was serene but firm. "Of course I have to choose carefully."
Given how heavily she weighted the premise of friendship, her caution was inevitable.
"However." She shifted slightly. "If Kuroha-kun finds someone he wants to date, you can also dump me. I... um... probably won't mind. Probably." She nodded encouragingly. "So don't worry about my reputation. Go find the woman you like."
That's clearly "minding"!
The real issue, Kuroha Akira understood, was that good friendships with the opposite sex became difficult to maintain once one party entered a relationship.
Girlfriends got jealous. Boundaries needed establishing. Suspicion needed avoiding.
"I don't care either way." He shrugged. "Finding a girlfriend sounds troublesome. I don't have money. Things are pretty good as they are."
His youth had been regained, yes—but it wasn't his youth. The one from his memories was gone forever, and he felt no urge to recapture it. If he'd been reborn into his actual past, maybe he'd chase regrets. But transmigration? Priorities were different. Getting rich came first.
The class monitor visibly relaxed, patting her chest with an exaggerated sigh of relief.
"Is that so? Phew... That's really great. Truly, truly, truly great."
"That's too exaggerated..."
Three "trulys." How much did she actually care?
"To show my highest respect for Kuroha-kun's resolve, I've decided to reward you with another piece of my best tempura." She held up a crispy shrimp. "Come, ah~"
Kuroha Akira accepted without shame.
"Hmm, Kuroha-kun is wonderful!" Her eyes sparkled. "Want more? I could feed you all of these, you know?"
"..."
It felt a bit like training a dog. He was becoming the class monitor's pet.
But honestly? Not having to feed himself was pretty enjoyable. He set down his chopsticks and let her continue.
Will I develop class monitor dependence at this rate?
Then again, this was simply one of her "friend benefits," wasn't it? Shirai Shiori and Aizono Moe had probably enjoyed similar treatment—lap pillows, feeding, the whole package.
Speaking of which, she hadn't invited them today.
"I'm surprised you're not eating with the Literature Club members during lunch." He glanced at her. "Aren't they also friends you've deemed worthy of keeping for life?"
"We don't usually eat together." She held up another piece of food. "Come, ah~"
"Ah... Ah?" He accepted it, chewing thoughtfully. "But they're your lifelong friends too?"
"Precisely because our friendship will last a lifetime, there's no need to stick together every moment right now." She waved the chopsticks. "Ah~ You have to eat your vegetables too."
"Ah..." He opened obediently. "Can it really work like that...?"
"And although we're in the same club, I'm still the class monitor of Class 1, Grade 1." She poured him tea. "It would look strange if I always ate with students from other classes. Here, slowly, don't choke."
"Hiss... Phew..." He swallowed. "That's true. But why did you want to be class monitor in the first place? Doesn't it make eating with friends impossible?"
"Because besides the homeroom teacher, the class monitor is the most powerful person in the class." Her smile turned slightly sharp. "It's easier to control—I mean, direct—other students. Being in this position makes everything more convenient." She leaned in. "Kuroha-kun, power brings relative freedom, you know? Hehe."
How dark!
This high school girl was completely overpowered! While others enjoyed their youth, she was already playing power games!
After they finished most of the bento, Asato Hitomi began tidying up.
"However, if I'm not around, there are indeed hidden dangers."
"Hidden dangers?"
"Yes." She nodded seriously. "If Shiori and Moe are always together, problems arise."
"Problems?" Kuroha Akira frowned. "Isn't their relationship good?"
"It's not that it's bad—it's too good. That's the problem."
"Ah? I don't follow..." He scratched his head. "Don't girls with close friendships usually stick together constantly?"
He'd observed this phenomenon at school. Girls went to the restroom in pairs, holding hands. Boys who did the same risked getting cursed out for peeking.
"Is this the complex web of female relationships?"
"Hmm... How to explain..." Asato Hitomi considered her words. "If they were ordinary friends, there'd be no issue. But Shiori and Moe have been best friends since kindergarten. Shiori, being the stronger one, has always protected Moe, standing up for her in everything." She paused. "The result? Moe remains weak and timid even now."
Childhood friends again.
This explained why Shirai Shiori had reacted so strongly when he'd approached Aizono Moe. She wasn't just being protective—Moe was her sore spot, her weakness. And Kuroha Akira had shown clear interest in that sore spot. Naturally, she'd bristled like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.
"I understand what you're saying, class monitor." He nodded slowly. "Shirai's presence isn't conducive to Aizono's growth?"
"Exactly. Their compatibility is both very good and very bad." Asato Hitomi's expression grew thoughtful. "Shiori's personality is too strong—she speaks bluntly without filtering. Moe's personality is too soft—she internalizes everything, never expressing when she's hurt. So when Shiori says something painful, Moe just bottles it up and suffers silently."
"I see."
Sometimes, the closest people inflicted the deepest wounds. Familiarity bred carelessness. Words spoken without thought could echo for a lifetime.
The more you valued someone, the more their casual remarks could cut. The hedgehog's dilemma in action: the closer you drew, the more you risked hurting each other. Distance made the heart grow fonder precisely because proximity caused pain.
"Like yesterday," Asato Hitomi continued. "Shiori said those disparaging things about light novels."
"Yes."
That very remark had sparked Kuroha Akira's own irritation, leading to his impulsive bet. He'd wanted to prove something to the arrogant Shirai Shiori.
"Actually, Moe has always loved reading light novels." The class monitor's voice softened. "Hearing those words must have been incredibly painful. Not because something she liked was belittled—but because her friend didn't share her interests." She looked at him meaningfully. "Do you understand the distinction?"
"Oh." Comprehension dawned. "After that comment, Aizono will never discuss light novels with Shirai again. Because she knows Shirai dislikes them."
"Precisely. And in this way, their common topics diminish." Asato Hitomi nodded approvingly. "Moe could only truly connect with Shiori through light novels. Shiori doesn't understand drawing, and Moe can't get into traditional literature. Over time, a rift will form between them."
"...That's amazing, class monitor." Kuroha Akira stared at her with genuine respect. "I didn't expect you'd thought through all of this."
"I simply don't want to see a precious childhood friendship destroyed by small things." Her smile turned bittersweet. "After all, I myself actively abandoned my own childhood playmates."
The class monitor's expression held a weight that spoke of old regrets.
This, Kuroha Akira realized, was probably a memory etched into her soul forever. The reason she valued the word "friend" so highly, the reason her definition of friendship was so heavy and intense—it all stemmed from having experienced the pain of losing friends.
A person's character really was shaped by their past. Every quirk, every obsession, every carefully constructed philosophy—all built on the foundation of old wounds.