The soft, pale pink camisole clung snugly to her upper body, slightly open at the chest, while her slender, beautiful legs peeked out from beneath her shorts.
Chisato had never seen Iroha so defenseless in reality before.
In Chisato's mind, Iroha had never been a woman lacking in charm.
Despite her petite frame, her proportions were excellent—delicate where needed and well-endowed in the right places.
Her features were refined, her voice was sweet, and the occasional adorable gestures and expressions she unconsciously displayed might not be particularly well-received by other girls, but to the boys, they were undeniably a plus.
Who wouldn't want a cute girl clinging to them all day, speaking in a sweet, coquettish voice?
Of course, Iroha's usual behavior never actually reached that level.
Still, the question now was… what should he do?
Due to an unexpected accident, the two of them had ended up in a rather compromising position—him on top, her underneath.
From his vantage point, Chisato could see Iroha's breathing grow rapidly as she slowly closed her eyes.
Her soft pink lips quivered slightly, as if something incredibly embarrassing were about to happen in the next moment.
And so, like most girls in such situations, she made the choice that came naturally.
She shut her eyes, saying nothing—a silent acceptance, handing over the decision to the other party.
Chisato hesitated for a brief second, then simply wrapped his arms around her and stood up.
He ignored the clearly resentful gaze Iroha shot at him when she opened her eyes.
Turning his head slightly, he held out the small piece of clothing he had unconsciously grabbed earlier and handed it to her.
"Sorry, but I'm a guy, so this is a little awkward for me. You should take your own clothes. I'll wait outside the room."
With that, Chisato walked out without waiting for Iroha to respond, leaving her alone with the aftermath of that brief, ambiguous moment—and enough space to change her clothes.
Iroha stared blankly at the closed door, then glanced down at the garment Chisato had clutched in his hand for so long.
She was annoyed at herself for pretending to be indifferent just now.
It had been a perfect opportunity—even if it was a bit sudden, if she had just leaned in and kissed him at that moment…
Even if Chisato-senpai didn't have that kind of intention toward her, given that she was "sick," he wouldn't have gotten too angry, right?
The chances were slim, but if everything went well, it might have been enough to break the deadlock between them.
Ugh… all that preparation for nothing.
She had worked up a sweat by doing squats and jumping rope, creating the illusion that she still had a lingering fever.
She had even set everything up near the wardrobe, carefully designing the moment that would create this very accident.
Wasn't it said online that teenage boys had a "lustful beast" inside them, just waiting to be unleashed if the right methods were used?
Was that all just nonsense?
Or was it simply that her feminine charms weren't quite up to par, making her completely unappealing to Chisato-senpai?
Iroha looked down and pressed her hands against her chest, pouting in dissatisfaction.
She had even deliberately worn a smaller-sized camisole from middle school, trying to create the illusion of cleavage to enhance her figure.
She had gone this far, and if this didn't work, there was nothing else she could do—she couldn't exactly blame her mother's genes for not being generous enough.
Besides, she was pretty sure that Eriri wasn't exactly well-endowed in that department either…
So, the problem had to be somewhere else.
Iroha walked over to the wardrobe and grabbed a jacket, draping it over her shoulders.
What was done was done—dwelling on the missed opportunity wouldn't help.
What mattered now was figuring out her next move.
She had finally managed to lure Chisato-senpai into her house, the perfect battleground where no one would interrupt them.
She had to make something happen today, no matter what!
First, she needed a shower—to refresh herself and to come up with a better plan.
As for what she would wear after bathing…
Naturally, it would be the very piece of clothing Chisato had just handed her.
The cotton fabric still seemed to carry the lingering warmth of his palm.
Iroha didn't even realize that her thoughts—and her actions—were already straying far from the original plan she had set for herself regarding Chisato.
She was becoming increasingly obsessed.
Wrapping her chosen clothes inside a large bath towel, she stepped out of the room.
To her surprise, Chisato wasn't waiting downstairs in the living room like she had expected.
Instead, he was leaning against the hallway window on the second floor.
Seeing her emerge, his gaze drifted to the items in her hands, and he quickly deduced her next move.
"Uh… do you need me to do anything?"
Visiting a sick person was actually quite simple—buy a small gift, exchange a few pleasantries, encourage the patient and their family, say a few kind words, and then find an excuse to leave.
After all, sick people needed rest, and a visitor staying too long would just be a burden.
If Chisato hadn't had another reason for being here today, he might have already been thinking up an excuse to leave.
But right now, he couldn't just walk away—at least, not before clearing up Iroha's misunderstanding about Yukinoshita.
Besides… he was genuinely a little worried about Iroha's condition.
Leaving a sick girl alone at home didn't sit right with him.
"There's not really anything I need help with… but if you're really eager to do something for me…"
Iroha buried her face behind the bath towel, leaving only her playful eyes visible as she peeked at Chisato.
"…How about helping me scrub my back when I take my bath?"
"...You're well enough to joke around. I guess you're on your way to a full recovery."
Chisato effortlessly brushed off her very obvious advance.
Iroha pouted in dissatisfaction.
"What? I was being serious! My body's all sticky from sweating, and I can't reach my back by myself."
"Just grab a towel with both hands and rub back and forth."
Chisato demonstrated the motion as he spoke.
"Ew, that's such an old-man way of washing up. No way."
"I'd love to know how you usually clean your back, then."
"My mom helps me."
"There's no way she does that every single time."
"I just soak in the tub longer and let the shower run over me for a while—wait! What the hell am I saying, and why are you getting me to talk about this?!"
"Well, you've already said it, so isn't it a little late to be embarrassed?"
"You're awful, senpai…"
Iroha grumbled in feigned displeasure, her expression carrying just the right amount of disdain.
But both of them knew it was all just banter.
"Still, it's a good sign—you haven't been coughing since earlier, and your face isn't as flushed anymore…"
As Chisato spoke, he reached out to check Iroha's forehead.
She noticed his intent but didn't dodge. Instead, she leaned forward slightly, cooperating with his movement.
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50 advanced chapters on p@t re on (.) com/SenatusTheta
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