Kiyoharu Becomes Ayano's Research Subject

Kiyoharu's eyes must be filled with shock and panic right now, but Kitahara Ayano seems unable to notice—perhaps an effect of the Time Stop?

In any case, her face ripples with an exploratory curiosity as she slowly undoes the first button of Kiyoharu's shirt.

Then the second, the third...

She pulls the collar open to both sides, revealing Kiyoharu's well-trained, solid chest muscles before Kitahara Ayano's gaze.

The originally well-dressed, almost ascetic-looking beautiful boy suddenly gains a hint of seductive allure.

Guys showing off their builds through similar attire aren't exactly rare on Tokyo's streets, yet in Kitahara Ayano's eyes, those men are as primitive and dull as wild animals on the African savanna.

Kiyoharu gives her the opposite impression—beneath his courteous exterior hides an interesting soul. Yes, intuition tells Kitahara Ayano that Kiyoharu Chihaya is the final piece of the puzzle for the most important painting of her career.

"Alright, let me see how to depict the protagonist's body lines... Sorry, Airi, for using your beloved fiancé without your permission, but you'd never agree, would you? Your personal belongings, you'd never share with anyone else, not even your best friend. So I have to resort to a little underhanded trick. I'm really sorry... I don't have much time left..."

Kitahara Ayano mutters to herself, as if trying to absolve her guilt through self-hypnosis.

Her hand, careful and meticulous, strokes and feels every inch of skin. Clearly, this is Ayano's first intimate contact with the opposite sex—the nervous trembling and the unnatural flush on her cheeks both attest to that.

As expected of a girl raised in a cultured family, her skin is as delicate as mutton-fat jade. Her clumsy technique keeps stimulating Kiyoharu's nerves.

She deliberately avoids looking at Airi beside her. Airi's expression is frozen, her eyes still holding the teasing intent from her earlier conversation with Kiyoharu, yet she remains oblivious.

Stop, stop right now, you bastard!

Kiyoharu's inner voice screams in fury, but it's useless. Though his consciousness can move, his body is completely controlled by the Time Stop's effect, unable to budge an inch.

A mere chest doesn't satisfy Kitahara Ayano.

"Hmm, his abs... fascinating. They bounce back when I press them."

"His waist is pretty slim too, looks very powerful. Ah, I'd love to see Kiyoharu-kun exercising."

By exercising, do you mean actual exercise?

Realizing resistance is futile, Kiyoharu resorts to silent complaints.

And tries to extract useful information from Kitahara Ayano's muttering.

Based on the intel so far, Kitahara Ayano seems to be using him as a reference for her "Ultimate Painting." She's fully aware of her best friend Chihaya Airi's strong territorial instincts, so she's using her special ability (?) to get her reference material.

How foolish, Miss Kitahara!

If you'd just asked Airi for help, you could find any top male model in the world. Why pick on this not-at-all-fat sheep?

Suddenly, Kiyoharu thinks of another terrifying possibility—could it be that his protagonist's fate is adding a strange charm that attracts Kitahara Ayano?

Kiyoharu instantly regrets attending this dinner. The Wellington Steak was delicious, sure, but being targeted by Kitahara Ayano isn't worth it.

While his thoughts race, Ayano's exploration continues.

"I've seen enough for now, next..."

Ayano brings her knees together, her floral long skirt covering her slender thighs, revealing only a stretch of pale ankle. Her ankle is like an exquisite divine creation, as beautiful as a sculpted artwork against the backdrop of her white socks.

Yet this beautiful Tokyo Prodigy now wears an expression of anticipation mixed with nervousness.

"How can I see it conveniently..."

Ayano leans in to observe, her warm breath hitting Kiyoharu's body, leaving him at a loss. The desires lurking in his soul are gradually stirred by Ayano's bold actions.

Remember, in his past life, Kiyoharu was a serial dater on Valentine's night, with an inhumanly good body. He reformed after being killed and reincarnated, but that doesn't mean his instincts vanished.

And lately, Airi's been teasing him constantly. He's already pent up with frustration, and now feeling Ayano's breath, in such an ambiguous position...

Ayano's body fragrance, mixed with the unique scent of lemon leaves dropped into her wine glass, lingers around Kiyoharu's nose.

Kiyoharu's body moves.

But not fully.

Ayano gasps, covering her mouth, looking up at Kiyoharu to confirm he's still completely frozen, then sighs in relief.

She looks him up and down, unable to help but admire.

Wow, impressive...

No wonder Airi's been conquered by him. This man is no ordinary guy.

After admiring for a while, Ayano lets out a satisfied hum: "Mm, excellent quality. Perfect as a template for the protagonist, and it fits the theme the work should convey."

Wait, sis.

What exactly are you planning to paint?!

Kiyoharu starts to doubt the nature of Miss Kitahara's "Ultimate Painting." It feels a bit shady.

But what's more worrying now is whether Kitahara Ayano will do something even more outrageous to him.

Fortunately, Kitahara Ayano glances at the ladies' watch on her left wrist and murmurs as if waking from a dream: "Time's about up... Let's stop here for today. I'll come back next time to check the rest."

You've got to be kidding me—there's a next time?!

Kiyoharu wants to cry but has no tears.

At least today's torment is over, and Kitahara Ayano doesn't seem to have noticed that he retains consciousness during the Time Stop.

"I'll have to avoid this woman from now on. Make sure she never gets a chance to pull this trick again!" Kiyoharu decides silently.

Kitahara Ayano began tidying up the "crime scene," buttoning his shirt back up one by one and smoothing out the wrinkles in the fabric until it was nearly back to its original state.

It was a blessing in disguise, really, because Kiyoharu quickly realized that if Time Stop were lifted and he was left with his shirt open like a Shibuya Host, he couldn't bear to imagine what Young Lady Airi's reaction would be.

"Mm, this should be fine now!" Kitahara Ayano muttered, then promptly left the booth.

A moment later, Kiyoharu regained control of his body.

"As for the other thing? Of course Ayano wouldn't ruin my marriage—after all, she's..." Airi continued the conversation from before the time stop, but cut herself short as her gaze dropped, her expression turning strange.

Kiyoharu looked down and his heart skipped a beat.

He had to admit, this body's constitution and hidden talents were more than a match for his previous life's.

But under today's special circumstances, it was hard to say whether this was an advantage or a disadvantage that would invite misunderstanding from the Red-Eyed Devil.

"Oh my, we were just talking about Ayano-chan and that underground avant-garde artist's special segment for male models, and look who's ended up like this. How did that happen?" Airi crossed her long legs, arms folded over her chest, a teasing look in her eyes laced with cold fury. "I need an explanation, Ki~yo~ha~ru~kun!"