The girl's thighs were plump yet delicate, and the sensation of holding them in his hands was like brushing against silk. Jinguu Akira slowly peeled down the over-knee socks from Ayana Taketatsu's legs, exposing her knees.
The injury wasn't particularly serious—just some scrapes. The reason she was limping was more due to the shock and the immediate pain from the fall rather than any real damage.
"Wait a sec. I've got a first aid kit in my car."
Squatting in front of Ayana, Jinguu Akira looked up—and the first thing he saw was that trembling chest.
"That bust volume… At this age, she could easily pull off a proper bounce."
He muttered to himself, slightly amused. But he didn't let his gaze linger on her chest for too long. Despite harboring "gentlemanly" thoughts, he wasn't quite bold enough to act on them yet—at least not without more "training."
"Ah, th-thank you very much!"
The deeply ingrained Japanese habit of excessive politeness was on full display. Even though it was Jinguu Akira who nearly ran into her, Ayana still bowed her head and used honorifics to express gratitude.
Shaking his head, Jinguu reminded himself: You're not in China anymore. Gotta get used to how things work here.
He returned to his car, dug out a small first aid kit, and by then, several passersby were already casting curious glances at him and Ayana, who was now seated on the steps nearby, gently covering her injured knee with her hands.
"Brace yourself. It'll sting a bit."
Signaling for her to hang in there, Jinguu sprayed a mist over the scrapes on her knee.
Her leg twitched slightly, and Ayana inhaled sharply. But it wasn't painful enough to make her cry. The chill of the spray settled over the injury, numbing the pain away in waves.
"Can you stand?"
Jinguu extended a hand toward her, eyes motioning for her to try.
"I'm okay, sorry to worry you."
Ayana stood up quickly, even stamped her foot lightly to show she was fine.
"No, no. This is totally on me… Uh, well, even if it's just scrapes, you should still take a little break… There's a café nearby—I saw it on my way over. Let me treat you to something as an apology."
Jinguu recalled the café he'd glimpsed earlier and made the offer.
"Eh? Isn't that a bit too much…"
The girl was clearly shy. She lowered her head, flustered, and her upper body swayed slightly. That tiny gesture made Jinguu's eyes reflexively flicker to her disproportionate chest again.
"Alright, then it's settled!"
Ever since becoming a rich second-gen in this new world—and even younger at that—Jinguu's personality had become more assertive. He snatched the paper bag from Ayana's hands and, supporting her arm, moved to lead her toward his car.
"Ehh?! I—I can walk on my own!"
Ayana panicked a little, gently pulled back from his arm, and skipped toward the passenger side of the car. After a brief pause, she nervously opened the door.
Jinguu grinned and casually tossed the paper bag into the back seat, then got into the driver's seat himself.
There's even a study out there: if a guy in a luxury car invites girls in, the success rate shoots up to 80–90%. The belief that "a guy driving a nice car = trustworthy" is practically embedded in the human psyche. Especially for someone young and good-looking like Jinguu Akira, the odds are even better.
Ayana, coming from an ordinary family, had never even been in a car like this. Sitting on the plush seat, she looked around, wide-eyed with curiosity. Once she closed the door carefully, Jinguu started the engine and headed toward the café.
The café wasn't big. It was the kind of warm little place you'd find tucked in a Japanese neighborhood—almost like a family diner. In the quiet afternoon, it wasn't too crowded. Jinguu picked a seat toward the back, and soon, two cups of coffee and two slices of strawberry cheesecake were placed before them.
Inside the mellow ambiance of the café, Jinguu spoke in a low voice. Most of the time, it was just him talking while Ayana listened, occasionally letting out soft giggles and shy smiles.
Jinguu had never been a smooth talker. To get a girl to laugh like this—this was already a rare victory for him.
As their conversation deepened, the sense of awkward distance between them began to fade. Eventually, even the shy Ayana began to speak of her own accord.
"So, Ayana-chan… do you want to become a voice actress?"
At some point, Jinguu had naturally switched to using the affectionate "-chan" suffix. In Japan, such terms aren't used lightly. Only people who've grown close ever drop formalities like this.
"Yes, Akira-kun."
At Jinguu's gentle insistence, Ayana finally addressed him by his name, her voice sweet as sugar.
"My friends always used to say my voice 'sounded like an anime character.' I hated it at first. But after watching some anime, I suddenly thought, why not give it a try?"
There was a tinge of self-consciousness in her words. In truth, the voice acting industry isn't some glamorous dreamland. Especially before the age of voice actress idolization, it was practically synonymous with hardship. Starving voice actresses were a real thing. Even successful ones couldn't exactly live large. In a country like Japan, where systems and pay structures are rigid, voice actors had fixed salaries—so low they were almost insulting.
If it weren't for the recent wave of voice actress idolization—with appearances at fan events, photo books, CD releases—hardly anyone would want this job. Sure, if you make it big, you could cross over into other industries, maybe even perform live at the Budokan. But only a rare few ever reach that level.
Most parents would never support their child choosing such a career path.
Having done his homework, Jinguu Akira understood why Ayana sounded so reserved.
"Oh? So have you already signed with a voice actor agency?"
Jinguu asked with just a hint of tension in his voice.
"No, I'm still just a student at a voice acting school."
Ayana shook her head.
"I see…"
Jinguu nodded. Maybe I should establish a company first. That way, when I start making anime, I can cast her directly, push her into the spotlight, make her blow up…
Only when she becomes a star—only when an army of fans drools over her—will she truly have value in his twisted plan.
Even now, Jinguu Akira was barely containing his excitement. After all, back in his original world, how could a guy like him ever be sipping coffee and chatting with a future top-tier voice actress?