After his internal, anguished cry and a final, cathartic purge of regret, Kuroha Akira's spirit settled. And with it, his resolve to acquire wealth hardened into something unbreakable.
As long as I have money, I can fill a whole warehouse with AVs and ero-novels! Let lewdness be my motivation! Oorah!
Steeling himself, he decisively pushed aside the lingering awkwardness of Shinomiya discovering his… 'special collection.' With a face of serious, professional intent, he addressed her.
"Alright, if you're ready, let's head out."
"We're going out?"
"Yes. For a run… Oh, wait. Are you feeling okay? Can you run?" Remembering the potential 'monthly situation,' Akira wondered if they should postpone.
"A run…"
So it was a morning jog. Shinomiya had half-expected Kuroha Akira's training regimen to be something esoteric and dramatic. She hadn't anticipated it would start with something so… normal.
Seeing her lack of immediate enthusiasm, Akira pressed, "Are you sure? Don't push yourself. If you're not feeling well, we can start in a few days."
A warm feeling blossomed in Shinomiya's chest at his concern. The last person who had fussed over her like this was her stepfather, Shinomiya Kazuhiro. It was precisely because he doted on her so unreservedly that Shion had never suffered any bullying or hardship after entering high school. Yet, that very doting care had also become the spark for the family crisis…
That's why Shion felt both grateful and anxious about receiving such care. She wanted desperately to be worthy of it, to repay it somehow.
"I'm really fine! Completely okay!" She raised her small fists to her chest, putting on her best 'full of vitality' face. The soiled underwear was already in the wash, and the uncomfortable dampness was gone. It wouldn't hinder her movement.
Though that pair of underwear was scandalously flashy, it was surprisingly comfortable to wear. The fabric was high quality, definitely not cheap—probably costing tens of thousands of yen. She wondered how the perpetually broke Kuroha Akira had acquired such an expensive pair…
He didn't… steal it, did he?
No, no! Akira-kun would never do that! Trust first, ask questions later!
Seeing her perk up, Akira dismissed his doubts. "Alright then. Do some light warm-up stretches for your legs. I'll go change into my sportswear."
He was still wearing the jinbei Granny Kobayashi had lent him. She treasured her late husband's things immensely. If he went for a run and sweated all over it, she'd unleash a torrent of creatively profane wrath.
Besides, while the jinbei was technically shorts and a short-sleeved top, running in it would be like jogging in pajamas…
Not that Akira hadn't done the college equivalent in his past life, showing up to class in sleepwear. The professors had 'cooperated' by calling on him relentlessly, denying him peaceful sleep and offering him up as the class eccentric.
Anyway, his summer sportswear had dried overnight. Better to change.
After a quick change, he returned to the living room to find Shinomiya already waiting by the genkan.
As he switched to his outdoor shoes, he asked, "Miss Shion, did you used to exercise regularly?"
"No… By the way, Akira-kun, why are you calling me 'Miss Shion' all of a sudden?"
"Hm? We're partners, so a degree of respect is appropriate, right?"
Akira was keenly aware of the Japanese emphasis on interpersonal distance. Using first names depended heavily on context; being overly familiar could breed discomfort. He couldn't be as casually intimate as Granny Kobayashi, who could just call her 'Shion-chan' as an elder. Compared to '-san,' '-kun' carried a hint of closeness; compared to '-chan,' it held a note of respect. It generally wasn't used between strangers or those with a significant age/seniority gap.
Ranked by intimacy, it was roughly: chan > kun > san.
Then there was the even more formal '-sama'—'lord' or 'master,' often heard in maid cafes as goshujin-sama. Ah, maids are truly wonderful… Having a personal maid is one of my 'lying flat' life goals. With money, I could hire one…
In short, to avoid making the locals feel awkward, Akira had put considerable thought into these nuances.
Both the class representative and Shinomiya, however, had used '-kun' for him from the very first meeting. This suggested they were relatively open and had formed a positive first impression, hence their friendly approach.
"Hmm…"
Shinomiya didn't press the point. She understood that their relationship wasn't romantic, and being overly familiar could seem presumptuous. She was keenly aware of the current distance between herself and Kuroha Akira. Though they shared a room and slept in bunk beds, there was no real ambiguity.
…At least, not yet.
It had all been her own misunderstanding.
He really didn't seem to be that kind of scoundrel with ulterior motives.
"Got it. Anyway, it's just a regular morning jog, not some hellish boot camp. It won't run you into the ground."
After tying his shoelaces, Kuroha Akira stood up and faced Shinomiya with a serious expression. "But don't underestimate a 'regular' jog. Being a voice actor requires serious stamina."
"More importantly," he continued, his tone shifting to that of an instructor, "running builds lung capacity. Top-tier voice actors and singers are like they have three lungs—they can deliver long passages of dialogue or sing for extended periods without their breath faltering. You currently don't meet the basic requirements in that area."
"Once you've expanded your lung capacity sufficiently, you'll need to start learning diaphragmatic breathing—abdominal breathing. If you only vocalize from your throat, you'll run out of breath quickly, strain your voice, and it's unsustainable for long-term work."
Listening to him lay out the rationale so clearly, Shinomiya straightened up, her expression turning earnest. He wasn't just making this up on the spot!
"Yes! I'll do my best!"
The feeling of having a personal coach was novel, and a surge of motivation bubbled within her. Her journey to becoming a voice actor was starting with this seemingly ordinary morning run!
"But for running… your current shoes aren't suitable either." In other words, they'd need to buy a pair of proper running shoes for Shinomiya.
Sigh. Money, money, money… it's always money.
"Anyway, let's just get a feel for it today. Since it's the first day, don't push yourself to match my pace. I'll slow down a bit so you can always see my back. If you can't run, a brisk walk is fine too."
"Understood, Coach. I'll try my best to keep up."
"Then let's go."
Kuroha Akira had a fixed morning route. There was a stream along the way to his high school. Running along the riverbank, he'd eventually reach a stone bridge. Using that bridge as the turnaround point made for a perfect five-kilometer loop—ideal for a morning jog.
To be honest, Akira wasn't naturally diligent. In his corporate slave days, he simply had no time for exercise. It was only during university, when he had to participate in inter-collegiate competitions, that he'd trained regularly.
When he first inherited this body, it was pathetically weak—not just lacking muscle, but even a short run would leave him gasping like he'd lost half his lifespan. That's why he'd picked running back up after a long hiatus. In this second life as a student, being this feeble was simply unacceptable. Plus, regular exercise could boost his daily stamina, allowing him to accomplish more.
Of course, there was one final reason…
If he passed by this spot every morning, he could see…
Oh! Here she comes!
Mid-run, near the stone bridge up ahead, a vibrant, short-haired girl was jogging toward them. She wore a breathable sports bra and fitted shorts that clearly outlined her toned, athletic figure. Her exposed skin bore a healthy, sun-kissed tan.
She was running straight toward them, her ample chest bouncing rhythmically with each stride.
This was the most anticipated moment of every morning run.
Mmm! They're bouncing beautifully today, too!