If it were usually, faced with Kitahara's teasing about a date, Hitori would definitely blush, stammer, and shyly deny it. But at this moment, she was too disappointed, and even the ahoge on her head was listless, making her forget to deny the date altogether.
"Another typhoon is coming, coastal areas are really tough..."
Kitahara muttered while taking out his phone:
"No wonder when I went to the supermarket at noon, I saw so many people scrambling for toilet paper."
Japan has a rather peculiar situation: whenever there's a natural disaster like a typhoon, the first item to sell out in supermarkets is always toilet paper. They don't hoard water or food, only toilet paper is indispensable.
It doesn't matter if there's no food or water, you can always last a few days, but if there's no toilet paper... that's truly terrifying.
"Found it."
Kitahara looked at his phone, which displayed information about the approaching typhoon.
It wasn't a 'historically significant' typhoon, just an ordinary, standard typhoon. Although it would cover most of Japan, a small portion of the region would still be spared.
As for 'historically significant,' it actually refers to a typhoon that causes significant loss of life and property to the local people. It then receives a special name and is removed from the naming list, so no future typhoon will share its name.
"S-Sorry…"
The girl's apologetic voice reached Kitahara's ears.
"Hmm?"
Kitahara looked up from his phone and turned to the wilted shy girl:
"Hitori, why are you suddenly apologizing?"
Hitori bit her lower lip, her voice full of self-reproach:
"If I had ridden my small motorcycle yesterday for the trip, I wouldn't have encountered the typhoon…"
The inner world of a socially anxious person is often rich and turbulent, always prone to blaming themselves for all sorts of mistakes. Clearly, Hitori was no exception at this moment.
"Typhoons are normal weather phenomena; they have nothing to do with Hitori."
Kitahara put his phone into his pocket, then changed the subject:
"Besides, who said you can't ride a small motorcycle for a trip just because there's a typhoon?"
"Eh?"
The listless cowlick on Hitori's head suddenly trembled. She quickly looked up, her peach blossom eyes filled with anticipation.
Looking at Hitori's clear eyes, brimming with trust, Kitahara suddenly felt a subtle sensation. He cleared his throat and said seriously:
"I have a special method that can make typhoons change direction and blow towards the West Coast of the Pacific Ocean."
Hitori's eyes sparkled: "Kitahara-kun is amazing!"
Kitahara: "…"
No, you actually believed that!
The energy of a single typhoon is equivalent to hundreds of nuclear bombs. To move a typhoon, you'd have to be Superman!
"Kitahara-kun, stop bragging."
A girl's sweet voice suddenly rang out behind Kitahara:
"How could humans possibly do something like that!"
Kitahara turned around and saw Kita wearing the store's work uniform, her red twin tails swaying in the air, radiating a dazzling light.
If Hitori was a wilted cucumber, then Kita was a sunflower that had just bathed in sunlight, brimming with vitality and energy.
Kitahara raised an eyebrow slightly:
"Kita seems to have a big prejudice against me."
"That's because it's true." Kita put her hands on her hips, wrinkled her delicate nose, and said sweetly, "Saying you can change the direction of a typhoon—it sounds like you're trying to trick an innocent girl."
Kitahara smiled:
"In that case, Kita, would you like to make a bet?"
"Eh?" Kita blinked, "What kind of bet?"
"It's simple." Kitahara subtly changed the subject, "Let's bet on whether Hitori and I can go on a trip tomorrow on a small motorcycle, and it'll be sunny the whole time."
"Hmm…"
Kita pursed her lips, feeling like something wasn't quite right.
He just talked about making a typhoon change direction, so how did it suddenly become a motorcycle trip…
Kitahara's voice rang out again:
"Kita, you're not scared to bet, are you?"
"I'm not scared at all!"
Even though she knew it was a provocation, Kita still jumped right in, hands on her hips, cheeks puffed out, her red twin tails trembling slightly, and her chin raised:
"A bet is a bet! I don't believe Kitahara-kun is that amazing, that even typhoons would listen to him!"
"Don't rush." Kitahara held out a hand, "First, let's talk about the stakes… If Kita loses, then you'll accompany me to the onsen alone."
Kita's face quickly flushed. She naturally knew what would happen if they went to the onsen alone. She covered her chest with her hands and gave him a shy, annoyed look:
"Change it! The stake is too bad!"
Kitahara said unhurriedly:
"As long as Kita can win, what does it matter if the stake is bad? Or… is Kita afraid she'll lose?"
"…I won't lose!"
Kita hesitated for two seconds, but still agreed with a flushed face:
"A bet is a bet! With such a big typhoon, it's definitely going to be windy and rainy tomorrow. If you two can't go out on your small motorcycle tomorrow, then Kitahara-kun will be at my mercy!"
Kitahara readily agreed:
"No problem. Even if Kita wants to use me as a lap pillow, or have me scrub her back, it's all fine."
"Pfft~"
Kita's face was completely red, and she couldn't help but quietly complain:
"That's not a punishment at all; it's a reward for you, isn't it?"
"…"
After a brief chat, Kita picked up some drinks and turned to attend to the customers.
Kitahara looked back at Hitori and said emphatically:
"Hitori, rest assured, not even a typhoon can stop our date."
Listening to Kitahara and Kita bickering, Hitori finally returned to normal, her face flushed, nervously denying in a stammer:
"N-Not a date…"
Seeing a customer come to order drinks, Kitahara ended his chat and walked to the corner with a drink in hand.
The sky gradually darkened.
Unbeknownst to them, the store was already packed with people. As the first band took the stage, the atmosphere became even livelier.
Kitahara stood in the corner, drinking and enjoying the performance, when he suddenly felt someone poke his arm. He turned his head and saw a girl with golden side-ponytails.
It was Nijika.
"What's wrong?"
Kitahara looked over curiously.
"It's too noisy here. Let's go over there to talk."
Nijika pointed to a corner.
Kitahara nodded, chugged his drink, and then walked to the corner with Nijika.
"Phew…"
Nijika exhaled lightly, then clasped her hands together in front of her chest, looking at him with a pitiful, pleading expression:
"There's something I need to ask Kitahara-kun for help with."
Kitahara asked curiously:
"What is it?"
"I thought there wouldn't be many customers today, so we didn't prepare enough drinks in advance." Nijika explained the situation, "My older sister just called and had a batch of drinks rushed over. Since it was a last-minute order, the delivery person had other things to do and didn't carry the drinks inside; they're all outside."
"And the store is super busy, we're completely swamped, so my older sister said she'd go move the drinks."
She sighed, and Nijika continued:
"Actually, my older sister's back injury hasn't healed yet. When I woke up this morning, I even saw her holding her back, groaning with a pained expression… If she overexerts herself moving things now, she might re-injure herself."
Kitahara understood Nijika's meaning:
"Nijika-senpai wants me to help move things?"
"That's right." Nijika clasped her hands together, looking at him pitifully, "The store is too busy, and my older sister's back isn't well, so I can only ask Kitahara-kun for help."
"Helping is certainly no problem." Kitahara lowered his voice, "But I'm a customer today, Nijika-senpai. If you're asking for my help, shouldn't you give me some compensation?"
Nijika's pretty face quickly flushed. She naturally understood Kitahara's implied meaning and gave him a shy, annoyed look:
"Don't always think about lewd things!"
Kitahara showed no shame whatsoever:
"As long as Nijika-senpai wears a nurse uniform tonight, I'll agree to help."
Nijika's cheeks quietly puffed out: "Uniform fetishist! Taking advantage of people!"
Kitahara smiled:
"Taking advantage of people is shameless, but it's very enjoyable."
Nijika: "…"
For her older sister's safety, Nijika could only agree with a flushed face.
"Senpai, you go attend to the customers. I'm going to move the things."
Kitahara waved his hand and left to carry out the order.
Walking out of the store, the deafening clamor immediately disappeared, and Kitahara felt his ears suddenly become quiet.
"Phew…"
Kitahara exhaled lightly, only then realizing that night had quietly fallen. Outside, the lights were already coming on, and stars dotted the sky.
Following the stairs to the ground level, Kitahara looked up and saw a dozen boxes of drinks piled by the roadside. Seika was walking towards him, holding a box of beer in her arms, her delicate brows furrowed.
"Brat, what are you doing out here?"
Seika paused, asking curiously.
Kitahara walked up to Seika and took the beer from her:
"Nijika-senpai said your back hasn't healed yet, and asked me to come out and help move things."
Seika was as stubborn as ever: "My back is fine. I don't need your help."
"Don't be stubborn at a time like this." Kitahara retorted, "If you hurt your back again, you might be bedridden like last time."
A hint of fear flashed in Seika's eyes, and she snorted softly:
"Brat, don't be a jinx!"
She knew her own situation best; her back injury really hadn't healed. Standing for too long would cause a dull ache, otherwise, she wouldn't have only carried one box of beer.
Kitahara exerted a little force and lifted four boxes of drinks in one go:
"Seika-sensei, lead the way."
Seika glared at him, annoyed and embarrassed:
"Call me Manager!"
"…"
There's no need to elaborate on what happened next. A few boxes of drinks were naturally child's play for Kitahara. If he wasn't worried about scaring others, he could have moved them all in one go.
Seika wasn't idle either; she ran back and forth, helping to carry some simple, light drinks.
A moment later.
All the drinks were moved to their designated spots.
"Done…"
Seika exhaled lightly, her left hand on her back, her right hand raised to wipe the thin sweat from her forehead with her right arm.
It was still the height of summer, and after running up and down several times, she had naturally worked up a sweat. So, Kitahara and Seika both went to the bathroom to freshen up.
"The manager actually has a bit of strength…"
Kitahara's gaze shifted to Seika's body.Seika was wearing a simple short-sleeved shirt today, a fitted one, and as she leaned one hand on her hip and wiped sweat with the other, clear, visible curves like small steamed buns appeared on her shirt.
"Perverted brat, what are you looking at?"
Women are always very sensitive to men's gazes. Seika quickly noticed Kitahara's stare, promptly covered her chest, and glared at him fiercely.
Kitahara didn't speak, but his expression subtly turned dangerous.
"...I'll go wash my hands first!"
For some reason, Seika suddenly felt a sense of foreboding and turned to slip away.
The next second.
Bang.
Kitahara propped open the bathroom door with his right hand, then easily pushed it open and stepped inside.
"Brat, what are you doing in here?"
Seika nervously recoiled half a step, the sense of foreboding growing stronger.
Kitahara slowly extended three fingers:
"Just now, Manager called me a perverted brat again. That's the third time."
"..."
Seika finally understood where the sense of foreboding came from. She had accidentally called him 'Perverted brat' again. Oh no, now she was in danger!
Seika's gaze flickered, glancing at the door behind Kitahara, searching for an opportunity to escape while saying, "That was unintentional. I take back what I just said..."
Kitahara shook his head and said, "It's too late. Since three layers of marks have been stacked, I'm going to kiss Seika-nee now."
"You wouldn't dare!"
Seika's pretty face quickly flushed red, and she glared at him, putting on a brave front: "If you dare to mess around, I'll break your legs!"
Sorry, I've already kissed you several times, and my legs are still perfectly fine. Your words have no deterrent effect at all!
Seeing Kitahara step closer, Seika, in a flash of inspiration, suddenly pointed to the ceiling: "Big spider!"
While Kitahara turned his head, Seika darted around him, ready to escape the bathroom. Unfortunately, she was a step too slow. Just as her hand touched the doorknob, she was directly pulled into Kitahara's embrace.
A familiar scorching breath washed over her face.
Their eyes met.
Looking at the high school student several years younger than her, Seika kept telling herself not to panic, but her heart still involuntarily quickened its pace:
"Stop right there. I can still pretend nothing happened, otherwise..."
"Otherwise, what?"
Kitahara was not flustered at all.
If he hadn't grasped Seika's temper and favorability, Kitahara wouldn't have cornered her in the bathroom.
In other words, if the person blocking the door right now wasn't him, but a random stranger, Seika would have already kicked their head off with a whip kick.
Seika gritted her teeth, glaring at him with shame and anger:
"Brat, don't push your luck! Do you believe I'll tell Nijika?!"
"Tsk~"
Kitahara let out a soft 'tsk' and was about to speak when he suddenly heard footsteps approaching from outside, quickly arriving at the bathroom door.
Immediately after, Nijika's voice sounded from outside:
"Sister, are you in there?"
Seika's heart gave a sudden leap, and her voice was flustered: "I-I just finished moving things, and I'm a bit dirty, so I came to wash my hands and face... What's wrong?"
Nijika's voice rang out:
"Nothing much, I just wanted to ask how your back is doing, if it's not hurting?"
Seika sighed in relief:
"My back doesn't hurt anymore... Mmph!"
"Eh, what's wrong, Sister?"
Nijika asked curiously.
"I-I'm fine..."
Seika's eyes widened, her pretty face crimson, staring at Kitahara in disbelief.
(Nijika is still outside, and you actually dared to kiss me?!)
Kitahara, however, was completely unperturbed. As he pressed Seika against the wall, he whispered, "Store Manager, you wouldn't want Nijika to hear, would you?"
Seika: "..."