It was like the scene in a movie when the main character got caught in the most incriminating position and could do nothing but stare with their mouth agape.
Even the lizard from earlier stopped in its track to nod its head once again. 'Who's stupid now?' it must have thought.
The woman standing over Renji—her apron dusted with flour, hands on her hips—launched into a tirade with a mix of fury and absurdity.
"I know what you are, you're a spy aren't you?!" she accused.
Renji narrowed his eyes. "A… spy?"
"Don't you pretend! Lurking in the bushes like some creep. You have bad intentions written all over your childlike face!"
Renji thought she was overreacting.
"Are you here to steal our food or peek at the volunteers? Spill it, you spy!" Her voice pitched higher with each accusation, her face twisting into a comical grimace.
"N-No, no, no!" Renji stammered, waving his hands frantically, his voice cracking with genuine panic.
He fumbled with his blazer, and pointed to the chest pocket where his Seihou High badge was sewn. He showed it to her like it was a medieval travel license.
"I'm not a spy or a creep, I swear! I'm just a student from Seihou High—see."
The woman's eyes squinted at the badge, her lips pursing.
"My name is Renji Kenshiro! I came to volunteer, but… uh, I've got this nervous issue. I get really shy around new people, so I was watching from the bushes to, you know, psych myself up."
His eyes darted to the ground, his cheeks burning as he rubbed the back of his neck, his sincerity shining through despite the awkwardness. "I didn't mean to scare anyone… I just freeze up sometimes."
The woman's stern expression softened, guilt crossed over her face. "Oh… I see," she said, her tone shifting to a sheepish mumble.
"Well, get up then."
Renji Kenshiro scrambled to his feet, brushing dirt and leaves from his uniform, his heart hammering like a drum.
He took the moment to scope the woman.
She had a very slender frame, lacking curves of any kind. She was flat chested, with no hint of hips or ass, just a plain, normal face framed by brown hair pulled into a tight bun, a single strand rebelliously loose.
"I'm Miyu Ishikawa. I'm a volunteer chef and coordinator here. Hmm, and I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions."
It was a half-baked apology. But Renji didn't really mind.
He picked up his schoolbag and dusted it off, slinging it over his shoulder when he was done.
'That was way too close. Thought I'd be hauled off as a peeping Tom!'
"Since you're shy, come with me," Miyu said. "I'll introduce you to everyone."
He followed her past the street and into the Sunshine Community Center.
Inside, as expected, there was a whirlwind of activity; left and right, volunteers in colorful aprons darted between stacks of canned goods and art supplies, their chatter a lively hum.
In the air was the scent of fresh paint, warm bread, and packaged food. There were numerous tables cluttered with donation boxes and children's drawings pinned to bulletin boards.
Staff hauled crates from a recently arrived bus, its engine still ticking, while a group of teens sorted clothes, laughing as they worked
Renji kept looking around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Mrs. Hoshizawa and her heavenly curves.
Miyu guided him through the chaos to a small office tucked in a corner, its door marked with a "Volunteer Office" sign that was already fading.
Inside, behind a counter, an older man with graying hair and a kindly smile looked up from a paperwork pile. He adjusted his glasses.
"Good afternoon! I'm Hiroshi, the volunteer supervisor. And you are?" His voice was the typical grandpa voice, his eyes crinkling with curiosity.
Renji swallowed, offering a shy nod. "Uh, hi, I'm Renji Kenshiro, from Seihou High. I'm here to volunteer."
His voice trembled slightly, but he forced a smile, clutching one of his bag's hands.
Hiroshi leaned back, eyes gleaming. "A student, eh? That's great to hear. What brings you here, and what role are you interested in? We've got painting, food distribution, tutoring—plenty to choose from."
Renji's mind spun back to the previous night.
Back then, he had already decided to target the distributor role, because on the surface, it seemed like the role that offered the closest proximity to Mrs. Hoshizawa.
But he had revisited that thought earlier this morning.
Renji had always been an arts guy. Despite his boring life, he was extremely talented when it came to arts, which explained his interest in manga.
He'd always thought that if things came to worst, he would end up being a hentai artist.
In middle school, he sketched in art class, aced every painting project, even won the district art fair with that oil canvas of the cherry blossoms.
He spent hours perfecting shading in drawing club, mastered watercolor landscapes, and his acrylic portraits got me extra credit.
He was even an arts student, though he had no idea what he was going to do with it in the future.
At least, he knew exactly what he was going to do with it now.
He was going to use it to clap some MILF cheeks.
If Renji could blow them away with his skills, Mrs. Hoshizawa will surely notice him fast, and that would speed up their relationship.
It was a stellar idea, one he could have thought of before considering the food distributor position.
Satisfied in his decision, Renji straightened to answer. "I'd like to apply for the painting position, please."
Hiroshi raised an eyebrow, exchanging a glance with Miyu. "Painting, huh? Can you paint, lad? Got any samples?" His tone was skeptical but intrigued.
Renji nodded eagerly. He expected that they would ask for one. Like any job, they wouldn't just give him a position without seeing some form of resume or proof that he could perform.
So Renji unzipped his bag and pulled out a rolled canvas. He unrolled it on the desk, revealing a stunning piece.
It was a vibrant oil painting of a stormy seaside, waves crashing against jagged rocks, the sky a swirl of grays and purples, with a lone fisherman's boat battling the tide.
Renji had been inspired by One Piece—his favorite anime—when he painted it. It had been a while ago and it was the last painting he'd done, so he wondered if he could even replicate that level of skill again.
Hiroshi's jaw dropped, his eyes widening. "Good heavens… you did this? This… this is incredible! Ai, look at this detail!"
A passing volunteer with a clipboard stopped to see. "Oh wow. Omi, come see this kid's work!"
The other volunteer gasped, "Whoa, that's pro-level! The shading on the waves. It's amazing!"
Soon, a small crowd gathered, murmuring in awe as they passed the canvas around, pointing at the intricate highlights and depth.
"You could be a professional, kid."
"This is too good. Too good for us."
"Don't say that Hito! You'll make him change his mind."
Renji watched all of it with a smile. He had forgotten how it felt to be praised for something he was good at. Life had really been rough lately.
Hiroshi clapped his hand, grinning old ear to old ear. "Well, lad, you've got the job! We need talent like this so please, welcome to the painting team!"
Renji let out a sigh of relief and excitement. "Thank you so much, Mr. Hiroshi." Then his face lowered with a quick thought.
He cleared his throat and asked another question. "Uh, excuse me… could I also volunteer for distribution? I'd love to help with that too."
He needed to cover all angles.
Hiroshi blinked, tilting his head. "You want both positions?"
Renji nodded.
The other volunteers looked at each other, surprised. "That rarely ever happens with kids your age. Tell me, son, it's everything okay?"
"Yes," another chipped in. "Are you lonely, son? Don't have friends, so you're filling your time here?"
Renji waved his hands, laughing nervously. "No, no, nothing like that!" He sat back and smiled. "I just really, really, really love helping the community."
Hiroshi chuckled, shrugging. "Fair enough! We won't turn away enthusiasm. You're signed up for distribution too. Dual roles it is!"
He scribbled on a clipboard, and handed Renji a volunteer badge.
Renji hid a happy grin. 'I'm in.'
However, as he was escorted into the painting room, Miyu, the woman who had caught him earlier, watched him with a wary, suspicious gaze.