Picking up the damp hand towel meant for wiping hands, Kyousuke began drawing seriously on the table.
At first, Kasumigaoka Utaha had no idea what he was doing.
But the moment the second curve appeared, her face flushed red—despite the sketch being upside down.
The taut arch of her foot, her calves tense but without a single hint of bulk, the elegant curves that seemed mathematically precise, her slender yet shapely thighs, and even a glimpse of her hipline…
Yes, in fact, someone had calculated those curves exactly.
All the relevant data was stored in his head—after all, his scanning eyes weren't just for show.
'I definitely didn't include her butt in the photo, right?!'
There was no need to compare it with a picture.
Just those two simple lines were enough to evoke endless imagination. And with a single glance, the girl instantly recognized—it was her legs.
"No wonder you're the EGOIST-sensei, whose debut work is already slated as Manga of the Year. That memory and drawing skill are amazing."
The black-haired, red-eyed girl clapped lightly, her cheeks still tinted with a lingering blush.
Just as she'd imagined, he would reject meeting someone like her—a drop-dead gorgeous girl.
In Hojou-kun's eyes, her beauty might not be worth mentioning. But the fact that her legs left an impression on him—that was already enough for her.
"I've never introduced myself properly. That was rude of me. My name is Kasumigaoka Utaha."
After taking off her scarf and sitting down, the girl straightened her pale neck and said the line she'd practiced a thousand times in her dreams.
Her shining wine-red eyes glowed with satisfaction.
'Finally… finally, we've met properly!'
"Nice to meet you. I'm Hojou Kyousuke," he said with a gentle smile.
"Hehe, I already knew that, Hojou-san. You're EGOIST—the author of One Punch Man, after all."
Utaha chuckled after his earnest introduction.
"But this is the first time we're truly meeting face-to-face, Kasumigaoka-san."
Kyousuke's voice was calm but sincere.
That subtle sense of ceremony stirred something deeply in Utaha's heart.
Resting her chin on her hand, her wine-colored eyes misted slightly, making her already delicate features even more alluring.
"What's wrong? Does it feel strange?" Kyousuke asked.
"Mm-mm~" Utaha gently shook her head.
Strange? Not at all.
All this time, she had felt like she was talking to herself.
But in that single moment, she felt seen.
Just like how he had originally declined to meet her—not out of contempt, but consideration.
Even after rejecting her, he had sent one of his trusted subordinates all the way from Tokyo to Saitama to apologize.
For a girl who had regained her pride only because of him, Hojou-kun never once looked down on her.
If all of that had just been her own delusion, then this moment confirmed it wasn't.
Every dream she had, all those countless thoughts—they were coming true right now.
Strong, humble, handsome… every good word seemed to apply to him.
"It's just… you're exactly like how I imagined, Hojou-san."
That usually cool and composed voice now softened into something almost seductive—so gentle, it felt like it whispered through the air.
"But Kasumi Utako-sensei, you're completely different from what I imagined."
Watching her elegant expression, Kyousuke's voice also lowered without him realizing.
'Eek!'
Utaha, who was just basking in the warmth like she'd had one too many drinks, suddenly straightened up.
The blush on her face deepened to a fiery crimson.
"H-How do you know that name, Hojou-san?!"
Her flustered reaction instantly reminded Hojou of another "anonymous heroine"—only Eriri would usually follow such lines with a mock punch like a massage-gone-wrong.
"If you don't mind, just call me Kyousuke. After all, in a way, I've known Kasumi Utako-sensei for quite some time."
That classic move—flawless and always effective.
'He's known me for a long time?!'
So Hojou-kun really did remember her! Could it be… he knew from the very beginning that "Naoto" was actually her?
That's why he spent all those nights discussing writing with her, sharing his daily life?
"Don't get the wrong idea. I just connected your name with the pen name. I have a friend who uses a similar naming style."
But before her imagination could spiral out of control, Hojou immediately clarified.
He could tell from her rapidly changing expressions that she was overthinking again.
However, the moment he finished speaking, her expression turned stormy.
'Friend? Pen name?'
Kashiwagi Eiri.
The top-ranked genius girl immediately thought of that blonde gremlin.
'Can't you stay dead for one second?!'
"I see," Utaha said with a too-perfect smile. Her fingers gently caressed the cup on the table.
'Ding… Ding…'
"Ah, excuse me—I just remembered something. I'll be right back."
With that, Kyousuke stood up and left the café with his phone in hand.
'What's he up to? No—wait, I can call him just Kyousuke now!'
Her doubts melted away at the thought.
Her lips softly repeated his name like a child with a new toy, trying out different intonations. "Kyousuke… Kyousuke…"
'Ding-a-ling'
The bell above the door rang, but Utaha was too lost in her own world to notice—until a book appeared in front of her.
"Could I get your autograph, Kasumi Utako-sensei?"
"Huh?" She blinked, slowly lifting her gaze from the book.
"Sorry for refusing to meet you before. But I really do love Love Metronome."
"Ah—no, it's fine! Really! I understand, Kyousuke-kun. I should be the one thanking you!"
'Wait, my feelings? How did you know I wanted to throw Onizuka into Tokyo Bay that day?' Kyousuke tilted his head in confusion.
"As long as I didn't cause you any trouble."
"Trouble?! If it weren't for you, Kyousuke, Kasumi Utako would've been long gone!"
Utaha slammed her hands on the table and stood up in excitement, her passionate words punctuated by a rather… ample presence.
The sudden movement made Hojou lean back instinctively, he had the odd feeling that soft mass was dangerously close to invading his personal space.
"Calm down, calm down, Kasumigaoka-san," he said, raising both hands in a peacekeeping gesture.
Utaha glanced around.
A few staff members and a couple of customers were clearly watching the scene unfold.
When her wine-red eyes narrowed coldly, the waitress immediately looked away and started wiping tables.
One of the customers even got up and left right away.
Meanwhile, seated across from her, Kyousuke had made an interesting observation.
Despite acting like a shy, modest girl in front of him, Kasumi Utako—also known as Utaha—seemed completely indifferent to how others around them perceived her.
Whether it was earlier on the sidewalk outside the bookstore or now inside the café, she showed no concern for reading the room—something the Japanese highly value.
For instance, if it were Shouko being stared at by this many people, she would have instantly covered her face in embarrassment.
Sakura, on the other hand, might've turned around and greeted them with a dazzling smile, charming the onlookers into looking away out of bashfulness.
But Utaha's response was completely different and fascinating.
Kyousuke couldn't pinpoint how she had developed that aura of hers.
From the way her pupils moved, he could tell she was glancing at the people around her, but none of them were actually in focus.
In other words, those frozen by her gaze were no more than background noise—like specks of dust unworthy of her attention.
'She's really something,' Kyousuke thought.
Among all the girls he'd met, this was the first time he'd encountered someone with such presence.
"Well, now that nobody's bothering us anymore, we can talk properly, Kyousuke-kun," she said, smoothing out the pleats of her skirt as she sat down again.
A sweet smile bloomed on her face—so sugary that if her editor, Machida, had heard it, she might've cried on the spot.
Her precious Utaha had never used that voice with her before.
"Yeah," Kyousuke replied with a smile of his own, unbothered by her sudden change in tone.
From their earlier conversation, he already sensed it—though this was technically their first meeting, the girl named Utaha held feelings for him that were… different.
She wanted to open her heart and spill everything she'd been holding inside.
But as she gazed into Kyousuke's warm, gentle eyes, she held herself back.
Not everything had to be said aloud.
Sometimes, feelings left unspoken could ferment within, becoming richer, sweeter with time.
"This was my first novel," Utaha began softly. "Back then, the publisher had already decided to cut it short by volume three."
Her voice was calm and even, tinged with a gentle nostalgia.
"But that's all in the past," Kyousuke replied with a classic line, "You're a bestselling author now—Kasumi Utako-sensei."
"It really is all in the past," she murmured—because you helped me.
She leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on one hand as she gazed at him.
Even after mentioning how close she came to failure, Kyousuke hadn't tried to take any credit for himself.
"Well then, Kasumi Utako-sensei, can I get your autograph?" Kyousuke said as he pulled out a pen he'd borrowed from a staff member.
"If anything, I should be the one asking you for an autograph," she pouted playfully. "And stop calling me sensei—just use my name."
"Then I'll take you up on that, Utaha-senpai."
'Senpai, huh?'
Utaha's deep red eyes shimmered with emotion. She seemed lost in thought for a moment.
"When you meet the author of a work you love, of course you'd want a signature," Kyousuke said with a soft chuckle. "Please, Utaha-senpai?"
'Love...? He loves my work?'
She repeated the word to herself in a whisper. Her fair cheeks turned a shade deeper than the rose petals floating in her tea.
She quickly picked up the pen, opened the book, and stared at her pen name on the title page, trying to think of what to write.
Her fingers rubbed over the smooth pen barrel. In her mind, one thought echoed over and over:
'Kyousuke-kun is actually asking me for an autograph…'
Not even in her wildest fantasies had she imagined a moment like this.
Kyousuke—the person whose one-line comment had turned her nearly canceled debut novel into a breakout hit, now with over two million copies sold was holding Love Metronome in his hands, asking her to sign it.
And he even said please!
Her pride swelled to the point her cheeks flushed crimson. But with her head lowered, Kyousuke unfortunately couldn't see that lovely sight.
She put pen to paper and began to write before the ink could even soak into the page.
"Is this okay?" Utaha asked, turning the book around to show him.
———————————————————————
"To my favorite reader, Kyousuke — Utaha"
———————————————————————
Kyousuke accepted the book.
Her handwriting was just like her—elegant and refined.
"Are you sure you're okay writing this?" he asked—not about the "favorite reader" part, but the fact she'd signed her real name.
As far as he knew, there were no photos of Kasumi Utako online.
Unlike him, she hadn't used her looks for publicity.
"It's fine. I never had any plans to hide it," Utaha replied casually, reclining in her chair.
That brief flicker of surprise on his face hadn't escaped her notice, and knowing that he'd accepted being called her favorite reader made her heart flutter with joy.
"Then I'll treasure it, senpai," Kyousuke said gratefully.
With the autograph complete, a short silence settled between them.
Utaha sipped her rose tea lightly, her lips glistening faintly from the moisture.
"So… what did you think of the second volume of Love Metronome?" she asked. "As an author or a reader—I'd love to hear your thoughts."
This sequel, which she had poured everything into, was in many ways her way of expressing her feelings to him.
She had been dying to know what he thought. But between school and their brief exchanges online, they hadn't had a proper chance to talk.
"My thoughts, huh…"
Kyousuke was caught off guard.
For reference, he used to read fan letters from One Punch Man fans sent to the magazine office as if they were storybooks.
Some of their speculation about future plotlines was so imaginative even he, who knew the original, felt tempted to borrow a few ideas.
But in the end, he knew better than to pretend. He always stuck strictly to the original.
"You helped me a lot with your thoughts on the first volume," Utaha said, eyes shining with anticipation.
'I wonder… will he notice the changes I made to the protagonist were based on his advice?'
"If I remember right, back then I mostly gave you feedback on your writing style, not the story itself," Kyousuke said.
Deep down, he silently thanked the miko who once cried while reading this book. It had clearly touched her—and him.
"That's true," Utaha agreed.
But maybe that's why he could see through the layers of writing and discover the real me hidden within the story…
She remembered his online comment when he still went by the name Sayuka, about her main heroine:
"Sayuka seems like a character modeled after the author herself—though cleverly disguised through various literary techniques."
And despite seeing through that, Kyousuke still gave her high praise.
"What I said then still holds true," Kyousuke said sincerely.
"Senpai, your writing talent is incredibly deep, and you've already honed it to such a level that I honestly don't have anything to critique. If anything, I read your novels more as a student, trying to learn."
"You know, Kyousuke-kun, your biggest flaw might just be that you're too modest."
With her pale hands propping up her delicate cheeks, Utaha gazed across the table at the serious-looking man before her.
A warm sweetness bloomed in her chest.
Out of nowhere, she recalled that annoying content creator—some guy named OP-kun—who always pestered her for calls and rattled off endless unsolicited advice.
The memory made her cringe. But when her eyes returned to the boy in front of her, they softened, her gaze rippling like spring waters in a serene lake.
"Personally, I think writers and readers choose each other. Writing is an inherently personal act—guided by one's own interests."
"And while we do carry a moral responsibility for our stories, every writer should ultimately be free."
Kyousuke spoke with complete sincerity.
The moment he said his first word, Utaha straightened her slender back like a diligent student in a Nobel literature lecture.
With every sentence he uttered, her deep red eyes sparkled a little more. By the end, they were practically overflowing with admiration and fervor.
'Clap clap clap.'
She gave him a soft round of applause.
If she weren't worried about maintaining a sense of decorum—knowing how much he valued etiquette—she would've clapped even louder.
"That was genuinely moving."
"Haha, senpai, you're exaggerating," Kyousuke said with a humble chuckle.
"No, not at all. Would you mind writing that down here?" she asked, pulling a well-worn manga from her handbag—One Punch Man, volume one.
Clearly, she'd read it dozens of times.
She'd imagined all sorts of possibilities about their meeting, so naturally, she'd come prepared with one of his works.
Kyousuke blinked in surprise.
He hadn't expected her to carry his book around, and judging by the creases and folded pages, her earlier praise had been anything but flattery—she really was a fan.
'Damn.'
It felt like knocking over a house of cards with one glorious kick.
Seeing the look of pure admiration in her eyes, Kyousuke's pride swelled in his chest.
He reached for the manga, determined to write in his absolute best handwriting.
"If you could, please write: 'To my dearest Utaha,'" she requested softly, her face cupped gently in her hands.
Kyousuke froze just before putting pen to page and looked up. Her face radiated with anticipation, those wine-red eyes gleaming like distant stars.
"…Of course," he replied. Right now, you are my favorite reader.
He wrote his earlier quote down, word for word, then added her requested message.
As a final touch, he penned a personal blessing: "Wishing you great success in your future works."
"Thank you."
She gently blew on the ink to help it dry, heart fluttering as she stared at the elegant, print-like characters on the page.
The signature, the message—it felt like a sacred bond.
Swapping books across the table... wasn't this just like exchanging wedding vows?
Each page filled with their hearts and souls, sealed with the most heartfelt words, declaring each other as their favorite person.
It was so romantic it made her dizzy.
'After we get married,' she fantasized, 'we could live together. With his pressure and guidance, I could finally create a literary masterpiece.'
'He'd turn it into a manga. We'd be the most admired couple in the industry.'
'And with his physique—he did win that thirty-man Kendo challenge—we'd have kids with both brains and brawn.'
'No—one child wouldn't be enough! In a society facing such low birthrates, people as talented as us have a responsibility!
The kids could be raised by a nanny, or by either set of grandparents.
Meanwhile, she and Kyousuke would devote themselves to…
As she thought of the videos she'd seen showing off Kyousuke's sculpted, masculine form, a blush bloomed across her porcelain cheeks.
Her legs instinctively pressed together.
She leaned forward slightly, her ample chest pressing against her arms, thighs tensing as her skirt nestled deeper into the curve of her hips.
"Utaha-senpai?"
Kyousuke's voice broke her out of her reverie.
Though the sight of her looking like a goddess caught mid-dream was enchanting, he still managed to pull himself together and speak up.
"Yes, Hojou? Did you say something?" she replied, dazed.
"Nothing important. Just… your tea's getting cold."
"Oh? That's perfect then," she smiled, shaking her head as if brushing off a dream.
She picked up her now-lukewarm rose tea and, without looking away from him for even a second, sipped it slowly, savoring each drop.
Kyousuke's eyes unconsciously followed the line of her pale, graceful neck as she swallowed. He gulped himself.
"Kyousuke, do you have any plans for the future?" Utaha asked.
Of course, an immediate marriage was unrealistic—but if they could spend her final year of high school together, it would make everything feel complete.
"How about going to Toyonozaki Academy in Toshima Ward?"
This wasn't just a whim.
Despite being a newer private school, Toyonozaki had a solid reputation with an average deviation score of 69—top-tier even in Tokyo.
But more importantly, the school culture was famously open-minded, encouraging freedom, and didn't restrict dating.
The campus was even designed to be a romantic haven.
"Toshima Ward…?" Kyousuke thought.
'Isn't that right next to Eriri's place?'
"I'm okay with it, but I'll need to check with a friend first—we'd made plans to attend together."
Well, not just a friend.
He had so many, it was practically a survey.
But the most important one… was Eriri, who had enrolled a year earlier.
"I see," Utaha murmured, not pressing him further.
"Then it's settled. I'll apply there," she said. "I hope we can be classmates."
"Once I check in with my friends, I'll get back to you right away."
Entrance exams in Japan are usually held in February, and the clock was ticking.
Unlike public schools, private institutions like Toyonozaki held their own independent exams.
But neither of them seemed concerned.
Kyousuke could get in without even taking the test thanks to his Kendo achievements.
And Utaha? She might be up late every night reading and writing, but she was still consistently at the top of her grade.
After wrapping up their earlier topic, the two of them moved on to chatting about amusing little things from daily life—like a certain thick-skinned online influencer.
"Wait, seriously? There are actually people like that?" Kyousuke exclaimed, clearly baffled.
"Yeah, can you believe it? I think his name was kinp-kun or something. Just thinking about him makes my skin crawl." The girl crossed her arms in front of her chest, shuddering at the memory.
"I'm lucky, I guess. The worst I've had is an overly enthusiastic fan asking me to sign their shirt."
"A girl!?"
"Uh... no. A guy."
"Heh, sounds like a very loyal fan," she said, smirking.
———————————————————————
By the end of the conversation, Kyousuke noticed the girl's voice getting softer and softer. Her head bobbed slightly, as if she could fall asleep at any moment.
He glanced at the nearly empty cup of rose tea on the table, then back at the drowsy girl.
A sudden thought struck him—he spun around to stare at the café staff.
'Wait a minute... Is this some kind of sketchy joint? How did they know I didn't bring my bamboo sword today?'
The overly cautious Kyousuke instinctively reached under the table and gripped one of the cylindrical legs.
'THUD!'
Startled, Kyousuke almost snapped the table leg in half—until he realized the sound came from the girl across from him.
"Ow—owww…"
She'd accidentally knocked her head against the table.
A bright red bump was already forming on her otherwise flawless, pale forehead.
Her soft moan of pain and the watery shimmer in her wine-red eyes made her look like a helpless kitten—totally different from the graceful black-stockinged beauty from just moments before.
She gingerly raised her hand and barely touched her forehead before letting out another soft cry.
"Utaha-senpai, are you okay?" Kyousuke folded the damp towel on the table so the clean side faced out and handed it to her.
Honestly, he kind of wanted to blow on her forehead too—after all, isn't that what always makes it feel better in moments like this?
"Sorry, Kyousuke… I didn't sleep well last night. I'm just really tired," she murmured.
Looking up at him with a voice that was usually cool and elegant, but now trembled on the verge of tears, she made Kyousuke want to pull her into his arms and comfort her right then and there.
She took the towel from him. Though it had cooled down, it was perfect for soothing the bump.
"If you're that tired, you should head home and get some rest," Kyousuke said gently.
"But…" It was such a rare chance to go out together, how could she let the date end like this?
She opened her mouth to argue, but was cut off by an uncontrollable yawn.
"Haha, come on then. I'll walk you home," Kyousuke said with a soft smile as he reached for his coat.
"Mmm!" she nodded enthusiastically.
'As expected of the person I like.' Listening to his thoughtful words, her heart fluttered with happiness.