This time, we jumped three chapters in one go.
What happened while I was sleeping…?
This is all right, isn’t it?
It isn’t as though anything weird is happening, right?
“Good morning, Hanekawa-san.”
As I laid completely still in utter confusion, Senjougahara-san, who was right in front of me, said this.
Oh, I thought.
Senjougahara-san, in stark contrast with the day before, looked like she was in a daze — or perhaps, rather than looking like she was in a daze or looking sleepy, she simply looked completely exhausted —
But what kind of condition would cause you to feel tired immediately after waking up?
It wasn’t as though she had her energy drained by the Hindering Cat.
“You wake up quite early, Hanekawa-san… it’s still six in the morning.”
“Yeah — ”
I did actually rely on my biological clock to wake up today — even though Senjougahara-san lived closer to school than I had, so I really could have slept in for a bit.
Well, there’s no loss in waking up early.
“But you’re up too, Senjougahara-san.”
“I go for a jog in the morning.”
Slowing raising herself, Senjougahara-san said this.
“I have to work quite hard to maintain this figure, you know… my body turns everything I eat into meat.”
“Turns everything to meat…?”
Was that some sort of euphemism for getting fat easily?
Well, it seemed that there had been some unique circumstances regarding Senjougahara-san’s weight at one point, so conversely, perhaps she was truly sensitive when it came to controlling that part of herself.
She wasn’t even a model, so to be honest, I thought Senjougahara-san would look more charming if she put on a little more weight.
There’s no need to have arms or legs that slender, is there?
It’s almost scary to see them, as though you could snap them apart.
“I’m so jealous of how your body turns everything you eat into bosom…”
“Turns everything to bosom…?”
What kind of constitution does that?
I go through quite a lot myself, too, you know.
Girls have it tough.
Senjougahara-san washed her face, changed into shortpants and a T-shirt, and then started doing pre-run stretches.
She’s so, soft…
It made me doubt my own eyes.
The movements of Senjougahara-san’s body were so smooth and slick, they looked like overdone CG.
Amazing. It’s like she’s some kind of mollusca.
“Sorry, but can I touch you, just a bit?”
“What? My right breast? Or my left breast?”
“No, your back…”
“My right shoulderblade? Or my left shoulderblade?”
“I don’t have any specific fetishes like that…”
She really is good at comebacks.
That’s something I can’t do.
Thinking this, I circled around to Senjougahara-san’s back, and pushed down on her as she spread her legs into a 180-degree split.
Her body pressed onto the floor snugly.
Zero resistance, and zero friction.
There had been no need to push her down at all.
“How can you be so flexible…? Isn’t there something wrong with the range of your joints? Actually, it’s more like your joints are disconnected to begin with…”
“Mmmn, I just really like stretching… in a masochistic way.”
“Why did you need to add the second part?”
“That grating, creaking feeling you feel inside is irresistable.”
“It doesn’t look like it’s giving you that much trouble, though.”
“I’ve gotten to the point where my body doesn’t make any sounds at all. It’s actually quite boring.”
So it’s boring, huh…
Well, stretching is something that gives you better results the more you do it, after all.
Perhaps this was the fruit — or rather, the vestiges of her training from when she was on the track team.
“Will you run with me, Hanekawa-san?”
“No, thank you, but I’ll make breakfast while you’re out running. Let’s eat together when you come back.”
“Do you dislike running?”
As a matter of fact, I liked exercise.
A morning jog was something I did do habitually, though not daily.
It was simply that, were we to run together, then when we return, it would likely end up with Senjougahara-san and I showering together again, and it didn’t seem necessary to insert these service scenes all over the place.
It would be dirty in more than one way.
“Actually, Senjougahara-san, why don’t you skip it for today? You look pretty tired.”
“I want to run because I’m tired.”
“You really are an athlete, aren’t you?”
As a former member of the track team, even her mental training was properly done.
It didn’t seem as though I needed to be unreasonable and force her to stay, so after assisting her with her stretches (though in the end, I couldn’t help in any way that would justify the use of the term) I saw her off, and stood in the kitchen.