As a gloomy high school girl with communication disorders whose excessive delusions often led to strange outbursts and eccentric behavior, Hitori already believed she had enough flaws.
This utterly irredeemable version of herself had now committed an unforgivable sin.
“A woman who tackles little boys and feels pleasure from the contact…”
“At minimum, this deserves life imprisonment without parole…”
Hitori could already envision her classmates pointing fingers at her as the perverted woman, culminating in her social execution.
Next would come teacher conferences, school expulsion, police visits, court trials…until the final verdict.
“Hitori is sentenced to death!”
Death…
Death…
Death…
“Hitori-nee, have some water to calm down.”
The judge’s voice gradually faded, replaced by a tender, milky voice entering her consciousness.
Swish!
Hitori suddenly snapped back to reality.
Seeing the handsome little boy obediently holding out water for her, she felt her entire life being healed.
“Kouma-kun…I’ll take responsibility!
Even if it’s the death penalty, I accept it!”
The socially anxious girl drank the water heroically.
“What death penalty?
Bocchi-chan, the audience is coming in—get ready to serve!”
Nijika shook Hitori’s shoulders vigorously.
S-s-serve customers?!
Hitori’s complexion instantly drained again.
“I choose the death penalty!”
Faced with customer service versus execution, the socially anxious girl chose decisively!
“Hey!
It’s just selling drinks!
Not worth dying over!”
Nijika dragged Hitori behind the counter to begin operations.
The way Hitori dodged and weaved made her look less like staff and more like she was shoplifting.
“Nijika-nee, can I try?”
The little boy’s voice drew both girls’ attention.
“Kouma-kun, you’re a guest—”
“It’s fine!
I’m bored just sitting here!”
Mimicking their actions, Kouma dispensed a cola.
“Nee-chan, your cola!”
Standing on a stool, his chin barely cleared the counter as he handed the drink over.
Though clearly struggling, his face alone effortlessly captivated the female customers.
“Waah!
Such an adorable little brother!”
“I want one too!”
“Let me drink the little boy’s water!”
Kouma’s presence energized the small bar area.
“Kouma-kun’s amazing!” Nijika praised.
“Mhm.
The ultimate wallet-emptying weapon against women!”
Ryou rapidly collected payments while imagining how much their band’s income might increase if they recruited Kouma as a mascot.
Hitori stood alone nearby, her form so desolate it seemed ready to dissolve in the wind.
She suddenly realized her complete uselessness—even inferior to a small little boy…
“No…I must pull myself together!”
After wallowing briefly, Hitori psyched herself up internally.
“Bocchi-chan, prove your worth!”
Glancing between the long customer line and Kouma laboriously climbing on/off his stool, she resolved firmly.
“Kouma-kun!”
She stepped forward decisively—then immediately prostrated herself on the floor.
“Step on my back!
Then you won’t need to climb up and down!”
From her position, Hitori could only see Kouma’s feet.
Hehe…little boy feet…so small…so cute—wait, no improper thoughts!
He didn’t understand but was thoroughly impressed.
Truly the bizarre logic of a socially anxious girl.
Noticing the syrup running low, he crouched to tell Hitori, “Hitori-nee, the drink syrup is almost empty.
Could you help refill it?”
Perfect—no customer interaction, simple task, and gives her participation!
Hitori’s eyes instantly sparkled.
Gazing at the little boy, she imagined tiny wings sprouting behind him.
“A real angel!”
Meanwhile, the so-called “Shimokitazawa Archangel” Nijika smiled warmly at the scene.
“Bocchi-chan and Kouma-kun get along well!”
“Probably guilt over fearing the death penalty.”
Thwack!
Nijika karate-chopped Yamada’s head irritably.
“Stop joking around!
Go help Kouma-kun!”
Undeniably, B-Komachi’s popularity was immense.
As fans streamed in, the venue quickly reached capacity.
But what truly shocked Ijichi was their unprecedented drink sales—Hitori had refilled the syrup over ten times already, with many customers returning for seconds!
“Your drinks are amazing!
Is it a secret recipe?”
Hearing such questions left Ijichi scratching her head in confusion—they used completely standard ingredients!
Only Kouma glanced knowingly at the dispenser, realizing the truth:
[LV1.
Clothes-Bursting Cuisine: Dishes prepared by host become twice as delicious…]
Did pressing buttons, adding ice, and lemon slices count as preparing drinks…?
“Ah…!”
A girl’s startled cry drew his attention—one strap of her camisole had snapped.
Frustrated, she tied it back together while holding her drink.
Kouma sighed silently.
He suspected Nijika would find numerous missing buttons during cleanup tonight.