Chapter 62: Should I give Eri a massage later as well?

When he turned around, he saw the petite Yuriko Ogata gazing at him with a pitiful look in her eyes. Her expression suggested she had suffered some grievance, looking utterly forlorn. Witnessing this, Haruhi Harano glanced again in the direction Miyoru Kiyosuzu had left, confirming that the familiar graceful figure did not look back. Her head was lowered, clearly lost in thought. The sight made him uneasy, but at least he felt a little relieved.

Yuriko, if Kiyosuzu-san had seen you clinging to me like this, I’m not sure what would happen to you, but I’d almost certainly end up tossed into a trash bin.

Yet, Yuriko Ogata’s soft, adorable eyes made it impossible for Haruhi to refuse her.

As the two turned to leave, Miyoru Kiyosuzu finally lifted her head. Her bright eyes sparkled, and she made a decisive gesture with her hand.

Alright! It’s settled! Tonight, I’ll make sushi!

Haruhi and Yuriko strolled along the school path together. The golden glow of the setting sun fell upon them, highlighting their charming difference in height—a pairing that seemed perfectly matched. Walking beside Haruhi, Yuriko bounced with each step, her fair cheeks radiant with a joyful smile, a smile so compelling it seemed to draw everyone around her into happiness.

If only time could pause at this moment—walking through the school with the one I love, just like a scene from a youth romance drama.

Never in her dreams had Yuriko imagined she would one day walk side by side with Haruhi. Feeling the gazes from those around them, her heart fluttered with equal measures of shyness and delight.

She lowered her head, reaching out her left hand to tentatively touch the broad hand of the boy beside her, her cheeks flushed pink.

Faced with such a clear hint, any ordinary boy would have grasped that delicate hand, letting the rest unfold naturally.

But perhaps Haruhi Harano was simply too oblivious; faced with Yuriko’s invitation, he remained completely unmoved. In fact, he even edged a little further away, putting more distance between them.

Yuriko was left bewildered in the evening breeze. This wasn’t how the story was supposed to go! How could it turn out like this?

It was supposed to be the ultimate, unbeatable romance of youthful school days!

In truth, Haruhi hadn’t meant anything by it. He’d already catered to Kiyosuzu-san’s whims during lunch break—though not in any profound way—but now, the idea of sneaking such minor advantages, like holding hands, simply didn’t appeal. As for the “task,” he decided to save it in his “Yuriko bank account.”

At the moment, his mind was busy outlining his workout plans for the gym later.

He’d even thought he was the one crowding Yuriko, so he instinctively moved away, never catching her intention to hold hands.

This led to a tiny misunderstanding.

Haruhi was unbothered, but Yuriko was not. Feeling aggrieved, she led him to a quiet corner, head bowed, her small hands now too timid to seek his, clinging instead to the hem of her skirt, helpless and fragile.

Looking down, Haruhi saw how small Yuriko was—her delicate face hardly bigger than his palm. Anyone else might have mistaken her for a middle schooler who’d wandered into the high school by mistake.

“Yuriko, did you want something?” Haruhi asked gently.

Yuriko remained silent, head lowered. After a pause, she finally spoke in a soft, gentle voice.

“Haruhi, could you please not take other people’s love letters?”

A light breeze lifted her bangs, revealing her wide eyes glistening with tears.

“But, isn’t it wrong that I took your love letter too?”

Seeing Yuriko so soft and vulnerable, Haruhi couldn’t resist teasing her a little; she was simply too adorable.

As expected, at his words, Yuriko’s cheeks burned bright red, even her pale earlobes turning a rosy pink.

Unable to help himself, Haruhi reached out and pinched them—they were soft and slightly hot to the touch.

That simple gesture made Yuriko’s mind go blank. Her head buzzed, her brain’s CPU struggling to cool, and one could almost see wisps of steam rising above her.

...

“Haruhi, what are you thinking about?” a gentle voice brought him out of his reflections on the tribulations of his week.

“Oh, nothing. I was just wondering if there are actually any girls who like me,” Haruhi replied with a smile.

“There must be many,” Eri Momotani said, hiding a smile behind her hand. “I think Miss Saka Hayame is quite interested in you. Maybe you two should…”

Saka Hayame was the receptionist from earlier—tall, attractive, and exuding a healthy, sunny aura from her dedication to fitness. She was, by all accounts, a fine candidate for a partner.

But Haruhi shook his head, answering sincerely, “Eri, please don’t tease me. At this stage, I just want to focus on my studies. There’s no time for romance.”

He lied with a straight face, utterly unbothered. Every day, he was indeed “studying.”

But before Eri Momotani, he certainly couldn’t admit to a life of leisure, surrounded by beautiful women.

Seeing how earnest Haruhi looked, Eri felt deeply comforted. What a good boy, she thought, as she picked up a towel and gently wiped the sweat from his brow.

A delicate fragrance drifted over, making Haruhi swallow involuntarily.

With Eri’s help, Haruhi began another day of training.

His daily exercise regimen had grown enormous; he was now completely used to it. Especially running—besides his morning jog, he would spend another half hour on the treadmill at the gym.

If you want a strong waist, you must start by building strong legs. All those beginners rushing to work on their waist first are hopelessly naive.

Besides, long-distance running helps you endure longer. (No, really—try it and see.)

It regulates your breathing and strengthens your self-control, while ensuring that your thighs never buckle.

Bench presses, running, pull-downs—after all this, the two of them made their way to the members’ lounge, under the envious gazes of the other gym-goers.

As usual, Haruhi sprawled out on the big mat.

Eri Momotani, like a professional masseuse, sat down beside him with a smile, her gentle hands skillfully pressing and kneading his sore muscles.

But today was different. Perhaps it was their growing familiarity, but Eri showed no hesitation, even when her hands wandered to more private places.

Feeling his arm sink deep into her embrace, Haruhi swallowed again and ventured, “Should I give you a massage later, Eri?”

A blush crept over Eri’s cheeks, but she nodded shyly.

“Mm…”