I Started a Lover-for-Hire Service, And For Some Reason, Only Beautiful Girls Are Requesting Me - Chapter 47: Himeno's Flag Recovery

“L-lori-Rin… Lori-Rin is with a guy, gah…”

“A beautiful couple…?”

“Hey, isn’t that guy really handsome…?”

“W-Was there someone like that at our university!? No, right!? Did he come to pick up Himeno…?”

Ryoma, having finished his makeover, was walking down the university hallway alongside Himeno.

The hushed whispers went unheard by the two, but the intense gazes of the students were fixed upon them.

“As expected, being next to Himeno draws attention…”

Himeno, being well-known, was probably used to this, but Ryoma was not. He resisted the urge to walk faster and kept his gaze fixed straight ahead, avoiding eye contact with anyone around.

“No, they’re looking at Shiba.”

“Huh? Why would they be looking at me instead of you? Wait, do they realize I changed my look!? No, but hardly anyone at this university even knows me…”

“Shiba, are you playing dumb?”

“Huh? Playing dumb about what?”

Himeno gave Ryoma a puzzled look, but he simply responded with a clueless, vacant expression. It wasn’t an act—he genuinely had no idea.

“…If you don’t get it, then it’s fine.”

“Is this philosophy again?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“O-Okay… I feel like I won’t get it even if I think about it…”

“Mm.”

(Because you look cool now.)

Himeno would never say that truth out loud. If she did, she felt like she would experience an inexplicable sense of defeat.

As they continued their conversation, they arrived at the university entrance and stepped outside.

Club activities were underway, but since it was cold and few students lingered outside, they finally found a space where they could relax.

“Why don’t you dress like this normally, Shiba?”

“You mean at university?”

“Yes.”

As they headed toward the main gate, Himeno posed the question. She was only asking because she genuinely thought his current look suited him better.

“Well… Wax is expensive, and doing this every day would be a hassle. University is a place for studying, so I don’t really feel the need to care about my appearance.”

“…What a waste.”

“A waste?”

“Shiba, don’t you want a girlfriend? Everyone in class says they do.”

Everyone in class said so. And, secretly, Himeno felt the same way.

With his cleaner, more refined appearance, there was no doubt that his chances of getting a girlfriend had significantly increased.

“Well, it’s not like I don’t want one… but right now, I don’t feel the need. It’s not something you can just get just because you want to, and I have other priorities.”

For Ryoma, there was something more important than getting a girlfriend—making money. That was his top priority.

“A person working as a rental boyfriend can’t exactly have a girlfriend, right? If I had a girlfriend and she was doing a rental partner job, I’d definitely hate it…”

“Himeno would hate that too.”

“It’d feel like cheating, right? I don’t know how to explain it, but I just can’t accept it, no matter what.”

Ryoma had once been cheated on by his first girlfriend. Although he had completely moved on, he would never forget that experience. It had left a deep emotional scar.

“I think everyone would hate that.”

“Hey, since you’re such a kind person, let me ask you this… If you had a boyfriend and he cheated on you, what would you do?”

“Mm, I’d kick him to death.”

“Eh!? Kick him to death!?”

“Yes.”

Himeno responded without hesitation, her words shockingly intense. Because her face was usually so expressionless, the seriousness of her statement came through even more strongly.

The two walked through the main gate, heading home.

Hearing such a violent phrase from the baby-faced Himeno would probably make any passerby do a triple take.

“That’s why I’d instruct my boyfriend to report to me if he ever started liking someone else. So that I wouldn’t have to kick him to death.”

“So even you would feel that way?”

“Yes. If someone doesn’t feel that way, it means they don’t actually love the person they’re dating.”

“…That’s true.”

That feeling came from deep attachment and care. If someone didn’t care, they wouldn’t get upset. Himeno was absolutely right.

“But… I don’t think you’d ever need to instruct anyone like that, Himeno.”

“Why not?”

“Well… I mean, would any guy even cheat if they had you as their girlfriend…?”

“Hm? What do you mean by that?”

“Ah… so you’re the oblivious type, huh…”

Himeno was popular. She had a cute nickname, “Lori-Rin,” she drew manga, and she was considerate of others.

Her quiet and mysterious nature only added to her charm.

Anyone dating her would have no reason to cheat—Ryoma was sure of that, having spent time with her himself.

“Himeno isn’t oblivious.”

“No, you totally are.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“Why?”

Their conversation turned into a back-and-forth of stubborn insistence. A natural outcome when both parties genuinely believed they were right.

“But if you don’t get it… maybe it’s better if you don’t,” Ryoma said, suddenly struck by an idea.

He mimicked Himeno’s earlier words exactly.

This phrase was way too convenient.

It let him dodge the topic without revealing his embarrassment, shifting the conversation into a harmless mystery. Plus, it ended the discussion smoothly.

However, just because it was convenient didn’t mean it was invincible. There were definitely holes in it.

Without any sarcasm, this phrase had an established convention.

In other words, Himeno had used it with the same intent as Ryoma, but since Ryoma hadn’t realized why he was drawing attention, there was no way he could have understood.

And the same went for Himeno, who remained unaware of her own popularity.

They would only realize this later.

“…Shiba took Himeno’s line.”

“I borrowed it.”

“I’ll charge you a rental fee.”

“A rental fee…!? How much, exactly?”

“…130 yen.”

“Haha, I see.”

It was an innocent answer, clearly meant for him to buy her a drink from a vending machine, with no intention of overcharging.

“You really do go for a reasonable price. Sure, I’ll cover your juice.”

“I-Is that okay? Himeno was joking.”

Tilting her head slightly, she matched her words with her movements.

“I’m thirsty too, so I’ll just grab one while I’m at it.”

“Mm, then I’ll accept.”

“When we see the next vending machine, that is.”

“…But that’s exactly why Shiba can’t save money.”

“You really say that to your senior, huh…”

“It’s advice, because we’re friends.”

Even the high school gyaru Aira had told him the same thing.

If you want to save money, don’t treat others. It’s common sense, even an elementary schooler would understand.

“Himeno can buy Shiba’s drink, it’s fine.”

“No way, I’d never let a junior pay for me.”

“You want to save money, so that’s strange.”

“This is a matter of pride.”

It was something that many men had, to varying degrees—a pride that made them refuse to be treated by someone younger or by a woman.

It might be a rigid, insignificant thing, but for Ryoma, it was a principle he stood by.

“By the way, changing the subject a bit… aren’t your shoes the wrong size, Himeno?”

“These?”

Himeno pointed to her black lace-up platform shoes with her index finger.

“Yeah. I can hear them clunking every time you walk.”

“Mm, they’re a little big. Even though I picked the smallest size.”

“The smallest size is still too big…?”

It sounded like a contradiction, but it wasn’t.

Even after twenty years of life, Ryoma found himself wondering, Did that kind of thing really happen?

“Uh… what size are those shoes?”

“22 centimeters.”

“Eh!?”

Ryoma did a double take at Himeno’s feet.

Of course, it wasn’t out of any impure intentions—it was purely out of shock, like ‘No way!?’

“S-So if those are too big… that means your actual foot size is around 21.5 cm?”

“No, it’s just that these shoes are big.”

“Huh…”

Depending on the brand and type of shoe, even the same centimeter measurement could vary in actual size.

If you asked why, it was because there wasn’t a strictly defined numerical standard for shoe sizing. If someone with a certain foot size could wear a shoe without issue, that size would simply be printed on it.

“So, I think I’m 22 cm.”

“You think…?”

“Mm, I think so.”

“I-I see…”

Rather than confidently saying “I’m 22 cm,” Himeno had said “I think I’m 22 cm.”

It wasn’t a definitive statement—it was more of an estimate.

Judging by the clunking sound her shoes made, Ryoma’s own assessment was that she wasn’t actually 22 cm in size.

“Shiba, you just thought my feet are tiny.”

“Well… I mean, it’s the first time I’ve heard a university student with that size… Also, wait—you were planning to kick your boyfriend to death with those mini-sized feet?”

“Size doesn’t matter. And ‘mini’ is rude.”

“Haha, fair enough.”

Himeno often left things unsaid, but if you pushed her, she’d always come back with a solid retort. At first, it might take some effort, but once you got used to it, conversations with her never really stopped.

You could just enjoy the flow.

“What about you, Shiba? What’s your size?”

“I’m 27.”

“Monster…”

“Monster… huh. Well, from my perspective, you’re the monster… just in a tiny way. Oh, and sorry, I forgot to say it earlier—your shoes look good on you.”

“Mm. (It’s really late, but) thanks.”

Rather than complimenting someone’s looks, praising what they wore was a much lower-risk move.
…Also, an unspoken battle was taking place to keep certain thoughts from being noticed.

“But be careful, okay? If your shoes don’t fit right, you’ll trip more often.”

“Only kids trip.”

“I mean… I think even adults trip sometimes.”

Himeno’s personal bias kicked in. But Ryoma kind of got what she meant.

Tripping had a clumsy image to it—something you’d more often see kids doing.

“Oh, I see a vending machine ahead.”

“There’s another one past it.”

“There really is?”

“Mm, the orange one.”

And the moment Himeno got distracted by the vending machines…

She perfectly fulfilled a certain ironic flag setup.

“Fwa—”

On a completely flat path, with nothing in the way, she suddenly clunked against the ground and nearly stumbled forward, letting out a dazed little sound before she could actually fall.

“Oh!—”

“—!”

With quick reflexes, Ryoma shot out his left arm sideways to catch Himeno.

She clung to it with both hands, her weight pressing against him—but she was so light it barely felt like anything.

“See? Told you so.”

“…”

Himeno, eyes wide, stared at Ryoma’s amused smirk.

“Didn’t you say only kids trip, Himeno?”

“…N-No.”

“But isn’t that what you said earlier?”

“…No.”

Straightening herself as if nothing had happened, Himeno’s face turned pink, her expression hinting that she wanted to say something.

“…I-It’s only childish from the second time onward.”

“Then you better be careful next time, huh?”

“Mm, so… I’ll hold on.”

Before she even finished speaking, she grabbed onto the hem of Ryoma’s left sleeve.

Like a game of rock-paper-scissors where you played your move first.

“Himeno isn’t a kid. She prepares countermeasures.”

“Well, that’s fine and all, but… doesn’t this make us look like a couple to other people?”

“It’s fine. We’re friends.”

“…Not sure if that’s how fine works…”

“Shiba will buy me something warm. Let’s go.”

“Whoa—”

Tugging at his sleeve, Himeno led the way, shifting the topic before Ryoma could argue further.

“…This is fine.”

A small scuff mark now blemished her black shoe from the stumble—but Himeno had found a different replacement.

Something she could hold onto while walking.

A small, quiet happiness.

A happiness she didn’t want anyone else to see—the kind that softened her normally expressionless face.

“Himeno, did you say something?”

“Mm. I want cocoa.”

“Then I’ll go with milk tea.”

“…Let’s walk a bit slower.”

“So you don’t trip, huh? Wait—you’re the one pulling me along!”

“It’s fine now.”

And so, Himeno—her cheeks still faintly warm—slowed her pace slightly.

Side by side with Ryoma, she strolled leisurely down the road.