Chapter 7: Counterattack

Because Amamiya Shizuru, from the very first day of enrollment, had never attempted to build influence through “gentleness” or “approachability.”

“However,” Asano suddenly thought of a practical problem, “how is Amamiya-san going to solve the joint recommendation?”

To run for student council president, besides filling out the application form, one also needed the joint recommendation of fifteen or more current students.

This was not some complicated system. It simply required fifteen names, classes, and signatures to prove that you indeed had “a certain degree of popular support.”

But for Amamiya Shizuru, this might be the most difficult hurdle in the entire campaign process.

In this school, the number of people Amamiya knew probably did not even exceed fifteen.

With Amamiya’s social circle at school….. no, she simply did not have such a thing as a “social circle.”

After all, Amamiya Shizuru’s label at school was “the flower on the high peak.”

Everyone would rather admire her from afar than sit in the front row and be stared at by that indifferent gaze of hers.

So the matter of the joint recommendation had to be handled by someone.

“As for this aspect,” Asano furrowed his brows, “I do have a way to solve it, it’s just that……”

Asano was hesitating.

Although he was not exactly a social star at school, he treated people properly, and whether in class or clubs, he had some connections here and there.

If he were the one running, the joint recommendation would not be a problem at all.

But the issue was.

The people he brought would definitely be signing because of Asano’s face.

“The campaign manager for Amamiya Shizuru is Asano Toru, so Asano’s friends signed on the recommendation form.”

What would this matter look like in other people’s eyes?

Was Asano helping Amamiya campaign for votes?

Or conversely, was Asano himself running for president?

Who was the main one in this student council, you or me?

If Asano were the one running, of course there would be no such problems.

But that was absolutely impossible.

First, Amamiya would never agree.

Second, even if Amamiya agreed, Asano himself would absolutely never go run for a position he completely did not want.

So the problem still lay there.

He had to find a method to convert “Asano’s connections” into “Amamiya’s supporters.”

And this matter, easy to say, hard to do…..

“Almost forgot.”

Amamiya’s voice suddenly broke Asano’s train of thought.

“Hm?”

“What…”

Amamiya Shizuru sat opposite him, slightly turning her body sideways, her fingers hooking the heel of her black little leather shoe, gently pulling, and the shoe fell onto the floor with a soft thud.

Black stockings tightly clung to her evenly proportioned calves, from ankle to knee, every inch wrapped by the thin yet firm fabric, reflecting an extremely faint matte sheen under the evening light.

The edge of the over-knee stockings dug into the root of her thigh, pressing out a shallow indentation there, the black fabric and snow-white skin interlocking in that circle.

Thanks to the posture of her currently resting her leg on the chair, a little further up, one could see that faintly visible absolute territory under the skirt hem.

The snow-white skin above the knee looked as if dyed by a halo, moist and translucent.

Amamiya Shizuru propped her chin with one hand, while the other flipped open the magazine she had taken out from her bag.

“Does this help you feel a little more at ease? As for the topic we were just discussing, let’s talk about it after you’ve relaxed.”

How could I possibly relax!?

Stockings were the only standard for testing a pair of beautiful legs.

The fabric of the black over-knee stockings was thin and even, without a single snag or pilling.

This was absolutely not the cheap kind sold three pairs for a thousand yen at convenience stores.

The calf lines wrapped by the stockings tightened all the way up from the ankle, bending out an exquisite bone structure at the knee, and then further up, the thighs constrained by the stocking tops were full and firm.

At a glance, it was the kind of touch only someone who exercised regularly would have.

And the owner of these legs.

Judging from the current stage of interaction, Asano had to admit that although Amamiya Shizuru had outstanding looks, occasionally even displayed behaviors that made one unconsciously yearn, and even her tea-brewing technique was elegant beyond reproach, her usual personality was truly terrible.

Unreasonable, self-centered, unscrupulous in achieving her goals.

And at this moment, clearly being the one who first propped her legs up in front of someone else, yet putting on an expression as if nothing had happened while flipping through a magazine, making it completely impossible to fathom what she was thinking.

“I really don’t have this kind of fetish….”

Amamiya lifted her eyes from the magazine.

“Words alone are not proof. If Asano-san really has no strange hobbies, then prove it to me.” She let her gaze fall back onto the paper. 

“But you’re only allowed to touch, nothing else!”

Asano Toru stared at the foot wrapped in black stockings in front of him, falling into the most difficult mental struggle of his life.

But there was no way around it.

It was simply too smooth.

The fabric was silky as if touching high-grade silk, while at the same time possessing just the right amount of elasticity, slightly denting under the pressure of his fingertip pads before quickly springing back.

The calf muscles under the stockings were firm and elastic, without a single bit of excess.

After all, Amamiya Shizuru saying she had practiced kendo and kyudo since childhood was absolutely no lie.

“……”

Too sinful.

Asano’s palm was still pressed against the surface of the black over-knee stockings, able to feel that extremely thin layer of body heat seeping through the stockings.

Her ankle was very slender, her foot small and delicate, the arch curving into a graceful arc.

“Speaking of which,” Amamiya suddenly spoke, “that problem you mentioned earlier, about the joint recommendation.”

“..Mm.”

“Since Asano-san has a way to solve it, then I’ll leave it to you.”

“…..Alright.”

“As expected, once you’ve calmed down, your thoughts become much clearer, right?”

“…………Yes.”

Asano Toru’s hand was still resting on Amamiya Shizuru’s calf wrapped in black stockings, not knowing how long he had already maintained this posture.

Probably thirty seconds, or maybe a minute.

Time seemed to move especially slowly in this room.

His peripheral vision swept across Amamiya Shizuru’s face.

The magazine blocked most of her face, but from the pair of eyes exposed above the upper edge of the magazine, there was a trace of teasing smile.

As if satisfied at watching the experimental subject react according to her expectations.

Reason reoccupied the high ground of Asano Toru’s brain in that instant.

This woman was deliberate from the very beginning!

“Although Asano-san has some strange hobbies,” Amamiya turned a page of the magazine, “and his thoughts can’t be called pure either, but rest assured, as the campaign manager, I will properly correct your—”

“Ngh?!”

This guy actually!

Amamiya Shizuru’s pair of eyes that had always remained unruffled for the first time revealed obvious surprise.

Because Asano Toru’s fingers were currently hooking the upper edge of her black over-knee stockings, then slowly and unhurriedly pulling them downward.

Asano Toru, while removing them, lifted his eyes and, upon meeting Amamiya’s gaze, revealed a calm smile.

This guy is truly untamed.

Wanting to use this method to express resistance toward me?

Amamiya Shizuru coldly watched him slowly peel the stockings from the root of her thigh down to the knee, then from the knee down to the calf.

The black fabric stretched out even tension on her leg, collapsing inch by inch as the stockings were stripped away, revealing the skin underneath that glowed white.

The touch of the stockings sliding over the arch of her foot was very light, as if someone had scratched the top of her foot with a feather.

Actually thinking I would feel shy because of something like this?

Truly childish.

The corner of Amamiya Shizuru’s mouth instead curved up slightly.