Chapter 321: Mashiro’s Love Strategy is Not a Problem

When Nanami visited the Service Club again, she faced Yuigahama’s eager look, the love expert. She just shook her head sadly without saying a word.

Yuigahama coaxed Nanami into telling her the whole story. After hearing it, she almost burst out laughing.

Her laughter finally stopped under Nanami’s burning, angry stare that could kill.

Yuigahama thought to herself that her disciple was so clumsy it was almost painful. She looked pretty smart, after all, and her grades were much better than Yuigahama’s.

But when it came to love, she seemed totally helpless.

Ah well, that couldn’t be helped. This was exactly where a good teacher’s value came in.

Yuigahama would save Nanami’s love life!

Thinking this, a strong sense of responsibility as a teacher suddenly swelled inside Yuigahama.

Her eyes shifted as an idea popped into her head.

She beckoned Nanami over. Nanami leaned in closer.

Yuigahama rattled off a whole bunch of instructions like pouring beans from a bag. Hope gradually returned to Nanami’s eyes.

Meanwhile, Yukinoshita read her book.

Hikigaya stared blankly the whole time.

Neither of them got involved in the matter.

…

For several days in a row, Mashiro ate nothing but popsicles. She finally got a fever.

Was this what she wanted?

Himekoji felt Shiina Mashiro’s body heat pressing against his back as he climbed the stairs one step at a time.

So, seriously, what was all this about?

Nanami had just recovered from her fever, and now Mashiro was following right after her.

“Hey, Akito.”

Mashiro breathed hot air onto Himekoji’s ear and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“What?”

“I entrust myself to you now.”

“Oh, you already said that once at school.”

Talking as he walked, they reached her apartment door. Himekoji took out the key.

“I didn’t get a clear answer.”

“If you want a clear answer, ask me in a normal way! What’s with the talk about marrying me already?”

Himekoji rolled his eyes, annoyed the entire way.

Nanami getting sick might’ve had a reason, but Mashiro’s cold was purely her own fault…

“Then let’s get married.”

“Marry my sister?!”

“That’s mean.”

“You’re the mean one! You don’t take care of yourself, get sick, and still have the mood for joking around like this?”

He carried Mashiro into her bedroom.

He carefully lowered Mashiro from his back and settled her into bed.

While Himekoji busied himself with this, Mashiro just lay there, peacefully watching his profile.

“Akito.”

Her voice mingled with her hot breath.

Perhaps because of the fever, her slightly dazed expression was unusually alluring.

Their faces were very close. Seeing Mashiro like this made Himekoji blush. Even though he knew it was wrong, for a split second, he couldn’t help but feel his heart skip a beat.

Struggling to steady his shaken feelings, Himekoji leaned over and pulled the quilt over Mashiro, all the way up to cover her shoulders.

Just as he finished and started to stand up, a low, soft, gentle voice tickled his ear –

“Akito, be gentle with me today, okay?”

“Huh?!”

His heart instantly raced. Caught off guard, Himekoji straightened up in a fluster, putting distance between them.

“Dummy, wha-what are you saying?! Hearing that kind of thing while you’re in bed makes me imagine weird things!”

“Me too.”

“You too what?”

“My heart races… my head feels fuzzy… my body feels hot…”

“That’s just typical cold symptoms!”

Thinking Mashiro was probably delirious from the fever, Himekoji told himself this firmly to finally quiet the restless throbbing inside him.

“Anyway, let’s take your temperature first.”

Himekoji handed the thermometer to Mashiro.

He waited for a long time, but Mashiro just held the thermometer, blinking blankly.

“You can’t possibly not know how to use a thermometer?”

“Can’t do it alone.”

A typical Mashiro answer.

“Fine, fine.”

Saying this, Himekoji took the thermometer back from her hands.

At the same time, Mashiro flipped over onto her side and threw back the quilt.

The girl puckered her little bottom, looking ready to stretch her arms back and pull down her skirt at any moment.

“Hey, hey! What are you doing?”

Himekoji hastily tried to stop her.

“Taking my temperature.”

“You don’t need to take it like that! Pull your skirt back up now!”

Himekoji smacked his own forehead and covered his eyes, urgently protesting.

“Can’t Akito do it? You put it in the bottom.”

“It’s you who doesn’t know how! Under the arm! Just put it under your arm!”

Himekoji finally convinced Mashiro to abandon this twisted method of measuring temperature rectally.

Mashiro obediently tucked the thermometer under her armpit.

Five minutes later, Himekoji took the thermometer Mashiro handed him and checked it –

37.8 degrees.

Good, just a low fever.

“What should we eat tonight?”

Himekoji asked to check the patient’s opinion.

“Porridge. The same porridge Nanami had.”

“Got it.”

Himekoji replied, shaking his head in a mix of annoyance and amusement.

Was it fair to say she really acted just like a child?

Simply because she saw him caring for feverish Nanami that day, she copied it.

Of all things to imitate, why did she have to copy falling sick too?

Himekoji turned to leave. But just as he stepped away, Mashiro suddenly tugged his sleeve.

“Akito, are you leaving?”

Mashiro looked up with uneasy eyes, her other hand gripping the blanket nervously.

“Yeah, I need to cook the porridge, remember?”

“Mm…”

Mashiro puffed out her cheeks, clearly torn.

She wanted Himekoji’s homemade porridge like Nanami had, but she didn’t want him to go.

The sickly pet-girl was stuck in a dilemma.

Himekoji simply placed her phone beside the pillow.

“If you need anything, call me.”

“Will you come immediately? Will you rush right back to me?”

Burrowed under blankets, Mashiro blinked up at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

Today she seemed so much weaker than usual—it must be the cold.

“I’ll come at once.”

Seeing her like this, Himekoji softened his voice as much as possible.

The moment he spoke, he realized how gentle he sounded. His cheeks flushed red, and he hastily turned away.

“Then… I’ll head to the kitchen now.”

Throwing out those words, Himekoji bolted from Mashiro’s room like an escape.

All the way until he closed her bedroom door, he felt her reluctant gaze burning his back.

Honestly, it was a bit overwhelming.

Himekoji patted his cheeks, forcing himself to calm down.

Yet barely had he taken a step toward the kitchen when his pocket phone rang.

No one else could be calling at this time.

Himekoji declined the call and reopened Mashiro’s door.

“What is it? Why call so soon?”

“You really came back.”

She didn’t seem to have an actual reason for summoning him.

Himekoji sighed.

“What? Testing me?”

“It’s really useful,”

Mashiro answered irrelevantly.

“Enough games. Rest properly.”

Shaking his head, half-dismayed and half-resigned, Himekoji shut her door again.

Though she’d played a little trick on him, he couldn’t summon even a spark of anger.

After all, the feeling of being needed and relied on… could never be bad.

……