Changing into the convenience store uniform didn't seem like a big deal at first—until I stepped out to the front desk and caught the eyes of my new coworker.
The girl from the counter earlier, Morikawa Makoto, was blinking rapidly like she just got hit by a flashbang. Her eyes sparkled in a way that scread, "I call dibs," and when she was sure our manager wasn't watching, she gave a stealthy wave like we were secret agents in so romcom operation.
I nodded back with a grin. I an, co on—how could I not? I hadn't even worked a full hour and I already had one secret ally.
Then ca the icy breeze of authority.
"Ginjo-kun, your main job today will be organizing the shelves," Kobayakawa Kana said, her voice as crisp as a winter breeze. "If we get a shipnt later, you'll move it to the back warehouse."
That professional coolness from earlier had returned like she'd flicked a switch. It was impressive… and a little scary. Her tone didn't leave much room for negotiation.
Still, I straightened my back and answered with energy, "Understood, Manager Kobayakawa. I'll do my best."
She gave the tiniest nod. "If you have any questions, ask Morikawa… or co find in the office."
With that, she turned and walked away, hips swaying ever so slightly under that tight skirt that no convenience store uniform had any business being that flattering.
I forced myself to look away. This wasn't the ti to get caught ogling my boss's ass like so teenage perv.
"Please guide from now on," I said, giving a polite bow to my new coworker.
"I'm Morikawa Yui," she bead. "Let's survive this together."
The mont Kana disappeared into the office, Yui leaned in like a gossiping cat.
"Hey, Ginjo-kun, don't you think the manager's a bit… cold?"
"A little serious, yeah," I admitted with a sheepish laugh.
"Serious? She's like a walking glacier with boobs," Yui whispered. "We call her The Queen behind her back. You know, all noble and untouchable and probably into light bondage."
"Wait, what?"
"Nothing!" She zipped her lips. "Anyway, rumor is she ca to Tokyo alone after divorcing her husband."
As she said it, she glanced nervously toward the office—as if Kana might bust down the door and zap her with a death glare.
Gossip seed to be the store's unofficial team-building exercise. Not that I minded, but personally? I wasn't that interested in people's personal drama.
What did stick in my mind though… was that strange feeling I got from Kana Kobayakawa.
She wasn't the usual strong, dominant woman I was used to seeing.
She felt… delicate.
Like she was pretending to be cold to hide sothing else entirely. That seriousness—it felt like a mask, and under it, sothing fragile was trembling.
But before I could dig too deep into psychoanalyzing my boss, a bell chid above the door.
"Irasshaimase~"
Makoto zipped back to the register. And just like that, it was ga ti.
I got to work.
The store was surprisingly big—almost 200 square ters. More space, more shelves, more chaos to organize. And, as any good Japanese store does, everything had to look perfect.
Seriously. The magazine rack by the window was so symtrical, I wouldn't be surprised if it was lined up using laser precision.
I walked aisle to aisle, straightening items, fixing display rows, putting misplaced stuff back in the right place. It was kind of like playing Tetris with snacks, energy drinks, and adult magazines.
By noon, custors were flowing in more steadily. Makoto got too busy to chat, and I doubled down to make sure I didn't screw up on my first day.
From ti to ti, Kobayakawa ca out to inspect the store.
At least, that's what she said she was doing.
Her eyes always drifted toward .
Lingering just a second longer than necessary. Like she wanted to watch move, sweat, stretch.
No way. I shook the thought off. That's probably just my delusion talking. Probably…
Still, every ti I caught her peeking, she would quickly glance away—like I'd caught her stealing cookies from a jar.
2 PM rolled around. The rush finally died down, and Makoto and I plopped onto a bench in the back to scarf down so instant noodles.
Kana stayed in her office, likely having brought lunch from ho. Probably sothing healthy, precise, balanced—like her personality.
I cracked open my cup noodles and took a deep breath. The steam hit my face like warm heaven.
Suddenly, Kana appeared next to . I nearly choked on my noodles.
She was holding a towel.
"You've worked hard, Ginjo-kun," she said, gently offering it to .
"Ah—thank you, Manager."
The towel was soft. Slightly warm. It slled faintly like lavender and sothing else I couldn't place.
Sothing that felt… very her.
It was the first ti she'd spoken to directly since morning. Her voice had a gentleness that caught completely off guard. Just when I thought I had her pegged as cold and distant… she tosses in a scene like this?
What kind of eroge boss route is this!?
By 5 PM, my shift was over.
I was sweaty, tired, and a little achy from lifting crates. But honestly? It wasn't bad. I grew up helping my grandpa haul fish on the docks. This kind of work was a cakewalk by comparison.
Kana still had paperwork to finish, so I gave her a short wave and headed out.
"See you Monday, Ginjo-kun," she said with a tone much softer than before.
Did her eyes just… sparkle a little?
The sky outside was dyed orange, as if soone had brushed a pastel sunset across the horizon.
A soft breeze carried cherry blossom petals through the air like floating confetti. For a second, I stopped walking just to watch it.
Tokyo is really sothing else.
But even as I soaked in the romantic scenery, my thoughts drifted sowhere warr. Or rather… soone.
My landlady, Tomoko Matsumoto.
I needed her comfort.
...And by comfort, I totally an food. Yes. Food. Not anything else. Definitely not her thighs or her scent or—FOOD.
I reached the apartnt and knocked.
Before my hand even left the door, it flew open.
As if she'd been waiting right behind it.
"Welco back, Sousuke-kun~" Tomoko-san's voice was sweet and affectionate, like a young bride welcoming her husband ho from work.
Oh no. Not again. My heart can't take this woman.
"It slls amazing in here," I said, catching a whiff of sothing sinful coming from the kitchen. But it wasn't just food—her scent lingered in the air like an aphrodisiac. Soft shampoo, warm body, and sothing uniquely hers.
"Dinner will be ready soon." Her smile could stop traffic.
Tonight's feast: rich pork bone ran, golden-fried shrimp tempura, and cool seaweed salad. The ran had that fatty sheen on top, the kind that promised mouthgasms with every bite.
I picked up my chopsticks and dove in like a starving soldier returning from war.
Each slurp of the noodles restored a portion of my health bar.
Every crispy crunch of the tempura was a buff to my stamina.
And watching Tomoko-san smile as I ate? That was an instant critical hit to my heart.
After dinner, we cleaned up together and settled on the couch. She sat closer than usual.
"So, how did work go?" she asked, crossing one leg over the other. The motion was slow, elegant—and incredibly distracting.
"It went well. Thanks to you, Mrs. Kobayakawa hired right away."
"I didn't do much. Just gave her a little nudge," she said with a wink.
"Still, I'm grateful. Though I think I ate faster today… must be from all that lifting."
"Oh? Are you tired?" she asked, eyes twinkling.
"A little," I admitted, stretching my arms behind my head. My forearms bulged with the motion. "But I can handle it. I've got these muscles for a reason, right?"
Her gaze lingered.
Her cheeks turned just a shade pinker.
Then—
She smiled, soft and slow, and brought a hand to her lips.
"…Sousuke-kun," she said, "do you want to help you relax?"
My brain blue-screened.
Did she… just say that?
I turned my head slowly, heart thudding like a taiko drum.
"S-sorry, what?"
She leaned in closer.
"I said… Do you want to help you relax?"
--
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