Hayashi spoke, her words halting.
"I want you to pat my head."
I cocked my head to the side.
I understood the words. What she wanted and what I was expected to do were perfectly clear. Still, I couldn’t help my confusion.
What exactly was going through her mind that she would ask me for something like that?
Hayashi hung her head, her cheeks flushed a deep crimson. She clearly had no intention of offering an explanation. Left with no choice, I decided to think it through myself.
As I pondered, I eventually started to get the gist of it.
...Probably.
Most likely...
Since she was an only child, she just wanted someone she could act spoiled with. (Idiot).
Back when she lived at home, her father had been a strict disciplinarian. After moving to Tokyo, her ex-boyfriend had treated her horribly, wounding her both physically and mentally. That was undoubtedly why Hayashi was unconsciously seeking out that kind of affection even more than a normal person would. (Total idiot).
"Alright."
"Wait, really?" Hayashi looked at me, her eyes wide with surprise. "Is... is that okay?"
"If that’s what you want, I’m not going to say no."
"Hah?"
...Why the glare? For the record, this was the reward she had asked for.
"There’s no reason for me to refuse," I said.
"Why not?"
"Because it’s not something I’m incapable of doing. That’s all."
Hayashi fell silent.
From my perspective, there wasn't a single lie or shred of deception in those words. In the first place, the moment I decided to give her a reward, I was prepared to cast aside a certain amount of shame. Compared to the kind of rewards I had imagined Hayashi demanding, a simple head pat was practically nothing.
"You really are a pushover, aren't you?"
"If you were telling me to do something impossible, then maybe. But I’m just doing what I can. That’s all it is. So, I wouldn't call this being a pushover."
"That’s why you... aren't popular."
"I see. I don't get it."
Rather than not understanding why I wasn't popular, I meant that it was unclear what part of me Hayashi was looking at when she made that judgment. Well then, if I wanted to become popular, what exactly would I need to fix? Based on Hayashi's phrasing, I couldn't really tell.
Unfortunately, I had no desire for a lover right now, and even if Hayashi confronted me with the facts, I had no intention of trying to improve myself, so I didn't care to ask for details. Though, I did recall her saying something similar the day I first sheltered her in this room.
I gave a wry smile.
"...Listen," she said.
"Hmm?"
"You don't need to be popular. No... you shouldn't be popular."
"Wait, why?"
"...Just because. You can't."
Why? Give me a reason. I wanted to snap back, but I decided to hold my tongue for the moment.
"You should just stay in this room and take care of me," she muttered.
"I'm the one taking care of you, but you're the one who acts like my guardian, right?"
"...Shut up."
If she was going to be like that, there was nothing I could do.
We fell into silence for a while. Effectively, the flow of the conversation meant that I was now obligated to pat her head every time she hit a milestone in her study plan. I had agreed to it, so it wasn't a problem. In that case, my objective for the day had been successfully achieved.
"Hey?" Hayashi called out, looking at me. Her eyes held a hint of provocation. "...I want a taste test."
"Of what?"
"Of how you do it." Hayashi lightly tapped the top of her own head.
A taste test. In other words... she wanted me to pat her head right here, right now.
"Alright."
I had no reason to refuse. If anything, I already dried her hair once a week at her request.
I moved closer to her. Immediately, Hayashi recoiled.
"Why are you running away?"
"...Force majeure."
"Do you actually dislike the idea?"
"That’s not it!" she shouted.
"Ah, okay..."
I hadn't expected her to yell. I pulled myself together and moved toward her again... but Hayashi kept retreating.
"Don't run."
"Sh-shut up."
I noticed her face was unusually red. Did she have a fever?
For a while, we continued this back-and-forth struggle, closing the distance only for her to pull away again. Inwardly, I realized how incredibly fruitless this was.
"Enough of this...!"
In a burst of frustration, I lunged forward and grabbed her by the upper arms. Hayashi let out a tiny shriek—"Hic!"—and then...
Thud.
Hayashi lost her balance, and I tumbled down right on top of her.
"Sorry..."
I realized I had essentially pinned her to the floor. Hayashi turned her face away, refusing to meet my eyes. As I reached out my right hand, she squeezed her eyes shut as if frightened.
For a moment, a wicked impulse surged through me. I thought, just for a second, that it might be okay to let myself be swept away by the situation.
My hand, which was meant for her head, shifted its trajectory toward her cheek. I had been trying to ignore it until now, but the thought struck me clearly: Hayashi’s skin was beautiful.
...I knew I should stop, but it was strange. I didn't feel like I could.
Ding-dong.
The chime of the doorbell rang, snapping me back to reality.
"...My bad."
I quickly pulled away and got off of her. As I stood up, I caught a glimpse of her eyes; she looked like she was on the verge of tears.
"Delivery!" a young man's voice echoed from the hallway.