Putting away his phone, Aoyama closed his eyes for a short nap.
Meanwhile, in Sakura Airi's room.
After Aoyama had worn her out both physically and mentally again that afternoon, Sakura had changed into her pajamas and was lying in bed.
Her exceptionally smooth, fiery-red hair spread over nearly half the bed.
None of the top three buttons on her loose pajamas was fastened, leaving a broad expanse of pale skin exposed at her chest.
"Aoyama..."
Sakura put a hand on her head, trying to recapture the feeling of Aoyama gently stroking her hair.
She knew very well that no one could survive alone.
But she never had the courage to take action. All she could do was secretly envy her classmates, who had so many friends.
Whenever she felt lonely in the past, she could only confide in her manager, who cared for her like a mother, or reply to her fans' friendly comments on her blog to ease the loneliness in her heart.
After entering Kouiku, both of those things had been forbidden.
Even so, she often visited her blog and read through her fans' encouraging comments one by one.
Although she couldn't reply, just seeing messages of encouragement could heal her heart.
Still, there were inevitably comments that made her feel uneasy, and one fan's message had even frightened her.
Since April,
that fan's recent comments had all been about how he was right by her side, watching her obsessively.
Chapter Fifty-One: Yamamura in a Maid Outfit
Her figure was hardly well-developed.
She wasn't as cute as Horikita or Ichinose, either.
Standing in front of the full-length mirror in her room, Yamamura was so nervous she felt like throwing up.
Because she'd once been ignored by everyone, she still couldn't feel confident, even though Aoyama was always telling her how cute she was.
From time to time, she wondered if Aoyama had only brought her close because he pitied her, and if his frequent compliments and encouragement were insincere, meant to help her become more outgoing.
"Knock, knock, knock." A steady, unhurried knocking sounded through the room.
"Yamamura, it's me."
After finally working up the nerve to agree to meet Aoyama, Yamamura had hoped time would stop—but it hadn't.
While she stood in front of the mirror, feeling sorry for herself, Aoyama had already arrived at her door as promised.
There was no way to avoid it now.
With a sigh, Yamamura opened the door, her heart filled with dread.
The sight of Aoyama before her was no different from usual. He was still as graceful and charming as ever.
Only his calm expression gradually changed to one of surprise.
"Yamamura, you—" Aoyama couldn't help gasping in surprise.
Her black-and-white maid outfit had the standard white lace trim at the collar and cuffs.
A little white apron with lace trim was tied over her fine-looking black skirt. The glossy black thigh-high stockings made her already slender calves look even slimmer.
A large white bow sat atop her head, and her expression was terribly uneasy.
Yamamura was standing before him in an elegant, classic maid outfit, looking as if her master had just scolded her.
"Ah!"
I should be the one who's surprised! Why am I the one acting surprised?
Seeing Yamamura belatedly look down at her clothes and gasp, Aoyama couldn't help making a wry remark to himself. He slipped into the room and shut the door at once.
If anyone saw Yamamura in a maid outfit with him, rumors would be flying all over the school by Monday.
"You look great. So great I almost want to buy one and wear it myself."
Noticing how nervous Yamamura was, as though she wanted to bury her head in her chest, Aoyama deliberately said something that ought to have earned him a teasing retort.
But several seconds passed, and no teasing remark came.
Yamamura was clearly very nervous. Aoyama seemed to have only two options.
He could leave and come back another day.
Or he could stay in the room and do nothing, waiting for Yamamura to calm down on her own.
"You dressed up this cute. You brought this on yourself, Miki." Aoyama's gaze sharpened as he dismissed both peaceful options.
He strode toward Yamamura, who looked even cuter in her maid outfit.
As she let out a startled cry, Aoyama swept her into his arms, carrying her bridal-style with one arm beneath her knees and the other around her back.
The glossy black stockings looked silky, and they felt as smooth and soft as he'd expected.
The brand-new maid outfit was made of fine fabric. It felt comfortable and had no strange smell.
The only scent that drifted into Aoyama's nose was Yamamura's familiar, faint fragrance.
"Sitting on the edge of the bed, which was covered with pink bedding, Aoyama placed Yamamura sideways on his lap and held her around the waist so she could lean against his chest."
"Why have you been avoiding me these past few days? I won't leave until you clear up my confusion."
Last time, Aoyama had only said in passing that a maid outfit would suit Yamamura.
But now that she'd actually bought one and worn it to meet him, he wasn't worried that Yamamura would come to hate him.
"I'll wait for you. Take your time, there's no need to rush, Miki."
Her blue-gray side ponytail was pretty and smooth. Aoyama idly toyed with it using his free hand, figuring he wouldn't get tired of it for at least an hour.
Once again, he called Yamamura by name, showing that he wanted to become closer to her.
"Because... I... I wasn't ready before, Shiki."
About ten minutes later, Yamamura's body stopped trembling, and she spoke with some hesitation.
Her hands were clenched tightly against her chest.
What did she mean, she wasn't ready?
Had I asked Yamamura to do something recently?
Smelling the even stronger fragrance in Yamamura's hair, Aoyama felt puzzled.
He really couldn't figure out what she meant by her vague answer.
"What weren't you ready for?" Aoyama couldn't make sense of it, so he decided to ask directly.
"It's... it's that..."
Yamamura's face had already been bright red, but as she spoke, she seemed even more embarrassed, and her gaze wandered even more.
She was so cute that Aoyama felt like kissing her.
"I really can't guess unless you're more specific."
Resisting his own desires, Aoyama pressed her for an answer. He hadn't forgotten the main reason he'd come tonight.
When they'd parted at the library, Shiina had expressed the same wish as Kamuro: she hoped to run into Yamamura again on Saturday.
Although reading together as a pair wasn't bad, Shiina preferred the three of them together.
"It's... the... H... thing."
Her trembling voice was so soft it was almost inaudible, but Aoyama heard her.
For a moment, he felt as if a whole row of question marks had appeared over his head.
When had he ever told Yamamura he wanted to have sex with her? He didn't remember doing that at all!
Lust was a natural human instinct.
It was impossible for Aoyama to have no interest in Yamamura, but he had never intended to force any girl. That was a matter of principle.
He could accept being a scumbag, but not being cast out of humanity.
"Did you misunderstand me, Miki?" Aoyama said helplessly. "I'll admit that Kamuro's always calling me a scumbag, but I've never wanted to force you."
"Eh?!! Didn't you mean that you wanted to do it as soon as possible that day? You said you... had impure thoughts about me."
Yamamura's eyes widened. She felt as if she'd spent the past few days worrying for nothing.
The huge amount of Class Points he'd suddenly transferred to her that day really didn't come with some hidden meaning.
When he'd said he was buying up her three years at the school, he'd only said it to persuade her to accept the points. He hadn't actually demanded anything in return.
"I'm a normal guy, so it's only natural that I have a little lust for girls."
"But since you misunderstood, and even went to the trouble of putting on a maid outfit to meet me, that means you've already—"
Along with feeling wronged, Aoyama also figured out why Yamamura had worn the maid outfit.
Nearly a week had passed, and she was ready now.
"No, that's not it. I'm not ready yet." Yamamura hurriedly cut him off.
Since it had all been a misunderstanding, she hadn't had to convince herself to give Aoyama what he wanted just so they could go back to normal.
"Then at least let me collect a little interest." Aoyama licked his dry lips. "After all, you're incredibly cute today, Miki."
Knowing that Yamamura wasn't all that averse to him, he couldn't help trying to seize the opportunity.
You had to take one bite of your meal at a time, and one step at a time on the road.
Today, he could get a little closer to her.
"W-what kind of interest?"
"A lap pillow, a hug, and this."
Setting down her side ponytail, which he'd been playing with for a while, Aoyama traced his index finger over her flushed, hot cheek and stopped at her soft lips.
Chapter Fifty-Two: The Stalker
The next morning.
Aoyama had dreamed that Kamuro was chasing him with a hatchet. Just as the blade plunged into his stomach, he suddenly opened his eyes.
The ceiling above him was unfamiliar, and before him was a pair of flustered, deep blue-gray eyes.
With Yamamura nervously dragging her feet last night, the time had quietly passed eight o'clock, when boys were forbidden from being on the girls' dormitory floors.
If they were caught on camera, they might lose Class Points.
If Miki slept on the floor, I'd sleep on the floor too.
Holding Yamamura, who had nearly fainted after her first kiss was stolen, Aoyama decided to stay the night and sleep beside her.
He'd held her in his arms for almost the entire night.
"How long have you been awake, Miki?"
Taking hold of Yamamura's hand as she tried to escape in embarrassment, Aoyama sat against the headboard and had her lie on top of him.
Her blue-gray hair fell freely down her back, and the girl who usually wore a vulnerable expression seemed to have a hint of allure now.
"I-I just woke up."
"I just had a nightmare, so I need Miki to comfort me."
A sixteen-year-old boy's body was always full of energy.
Aoyama lowered his head and captured the startled girl's lips. Burning with desire, he kissed her passionately.
He stopped only when her breathing grew very ragged.
"I've collected today's interest."
"Today's?!" Yamamura's tightly closed eyes flew open.
"Right. I'll collect it every day."
Aoyama smiled with satisfaction and pecked her tender lips once more before getting out of bed.
By the time they'd finished washing up and eating breakfast, the clock on the wall still hadn't struck eight.
Before you continue