"H-here? Right here?"
Mio took a careful look around. They were still close to school, and since classes had just ended, the streets were dotted with students in uniform. She could practically feel the eyes on them—whispers too, faint but unmistakable, murmuring about her and Utaha.
If she did that in a place like this, she'd be caught within seconds. And by tomorrow morning, her reputation would be something along the lines of white-haired beauty turns out to be a depraved yuri creep.
"Does Shirai-san have a better suggestion?"
"How about somewhere with fewer people? Like—my place?"
The words were out before she fully thought them through. Mio internally winced. She'd just made a borderline-absurd request, and now she was inviting Utaha back to her apartment? That was practically begging to be misread.
But, to her surprise, Utaha agreed.
"Senpai, aren't you worried I'll try something?"
"Only if you have the ability." Utaha gave Mio's slim build a flat, assessing look. If things did escalate in that direction, she had her own doubts about who'd end up on top.
That was fair. Still, Mio felt faintly aggrieved.
The mild sting of being underestimated, combined with having to smile about it—ugh.
Once Utaha finished her coffee, Mio led her toward the apartment.
It only took about fifteen minutes on foot. She'd left Shiina Mashiro with Sengoku Chihiro for the day, so the apartment was noticeably quiet when they stepped inside.
Mio got Utaha settled and brewed her a cup of black tea—the kind without any computer components.
Utaha, still not quite in the mood for tea after the café, barely sipped it before setting it down. But the curiosity in her gaze was obvious. She was taking in the apartment with genuine interest.
"Would you like a tour?"
"No need. Aren't you going to touch my legs? Go ahead."
At that, Mio's eyes dropped—involuntarily—to those legs, wrapped in black tights.
I'm not going to pretend I don't have thoughts about this. Before she'd crossed worlds, Kasumigaoka Utaha's legs had been a topic of sincere appreciation. The idea that she could actually touch them now felt—surreal, in the best possible way.
In some sense, this was a dream coming true.
Mio took a quiet breath. Then she sat down beside Utaha.
Slowly, carefully, she reached out—hovering her hand above Utaha's thigh for a beat, making sure there was no reaction—before lowering it to rest there.
The texture of the black tights was finer than she'd expected. And Utaha's thigh had a springy elasticity to it that made Mio's thoughts stall for just a moment.
She very much wanted to give it a squeeze. But if she did that, she'd absolutely be categorized as a degenerate, and future tasks would become exponentially harder.
So she held back. Exercised iron restraint. And stayed exactly like that for thirty seconds.
The countdown finished. The System's voice came through, sounding vaguely disappointed:
"The Host actually held herself back in a situation like this. Have you been practicing celibacy?"
"Less commentary, more results."
"Fine, fine. The Host is so impatient~"
"Congratulations—task complete. The host's conquest rating with Kasumigaoka Utaha has increased by 5 points. As for why only 5—I think the Host already knows."
"Please select your reward."
The reward pool was entirely Kasumigaoka Utaha series cards. Mio chose [Kasumigaoka Utaha's Whimsical Ideas]—a card that boosted creative inspiration during writing. A genuinely useful pull.
With her selection made, frozen time resumed.
Mio withdrew her hand with some reluctance. "Alright, senpai. That should do it."
"You placed your hand on my leg for thirty seconds and called it done? I thought you were going to do something with it."
"Is it too late to reconsider?"
"Yes."
Utaha rose from her seat. "I held up my end. Now you'll hold up yours."
"Obviously. Whatever style you want, I'll deliver."
Mio patted her own chest. The result fell just barely short of a dramatic jiggle.
"Then I'll head out."
"No second thoughts about dinner before you go?"
"I have other things to take care of. Another time."
Since Utaha had made up her mind, Mio walked her to the door.
She opened it—and nearly collided with Shiina Mashiro, who was standing right outside, key in hand, in the process of letting herself in.
Mashiro's first instinct, upon seeing Mio, was to launch herself into a hug. Which she did.
Then she noticed the unfamiliar girl behind Mio.
Utaha noticed Mashiro at the same moment. She'd actually considered asking Mashiro to illustrate her new novel—until it became clear that she and Mashiro didn't really know each other at all. So the idea had shifted to Mio, who she'd quietly hoped would agree as a fan.
Which Mio had, in exchange for a small price.
Sandwiched between the two of them, Mio felt an inexplicable rush of anxiety.
This is giving me serious caught-bringing-someone-home-by-your-wife energy. Why.
She cleared her throat. "Mashiro, this is our senpai—one year above us. Kasumigaoka Utaha."
"Senpai, this is Shiina Mashiro. Even if you haven't met, you've probably heard the name—she's famous here too."
"I know. She and you are both well-known around campus." Utaha glanced between them, then: "I'll leave you to it. See you soon."
She left without fanfare, a graceful silhouette retreating down the hallway.
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