Sumire suddenly recalled his earlier words: 'Maybe being abnormal is the real normal?'
She wondered if she was deluding herself, but her body moved closer to him, step by step, as if acting on its own.
Before she realized it, her hand was gripping the back of the office chair.
When she snapped out of it, Sumire stared at the scene before her, dazed and confused.
How…?
How did things end up like this?
What had she done? She'd completely failed as a teacher, hadn't she…?
Shuichi adjusted his clothes and pants, standing up with a refreshed air. "The student council president is something else—getting her clothes all dirty just from wiping the floor. Can you take her to the bathroom, Sensei?"
"Huh?"
Sumire turned her gaze to him, bewildered. His face carried a natural, easygoing smile, and she couldn't wrap her head around it.
How could he talk so calmly after doing those things?!
"Anyway, I'll leave it to you, Sensei. I'm going to step out to the balcony for some fresh air and open a window. You probably haven't aired out this room all night, right? The air's getting a bit stale."
With that, Shuichi strode toward the bedroom without a hint of hesitation, moving as comfortably as if he were in his own home.
Sumire covered her face and slowly sank into a crouch, clutching her hair in frustration. Why hadn't she held back? Was she really some kind of pervert?
Was that why she'd ended up tangled with these two weirdos?
Like attracts like, doesn't it?
Though she hated to admit it, Shuichi hadn't forced her into anything, just as he'd said. Yet, she'd gone along with it—half-reluctantly, half-willingly, even taking the initiative to do those bizarre things…
Not just watching, but even shaking the chair…
So, was she really not a decent person?
The truth seemed undeniable, no matter how much she wanted to reject it.
With a complicated mix of emotions, she glanced at the seemingly asleep, quiet girl. Walking over, she gently helped her up and supported her to the bathroom.
From the balcony, Shuichi caught sight of this and smirked. He returned to the bedroom, his eyes scanning the female teacher's private space with keen interest.
The room's decor was simple and neutral, with little ornamentation. Only the vanity table hinted that this was a woman's room.
So secretive… Shuichi chuckled lightly and pulled open the vanity's drawer. It was stuffed to the brim with cosmetics—undoubtedly for cosplay.
Having little interest in makeup, he glanced briefly before closing it. His attention shifted to the large wardrobe by the wall.
It had sliding doors.
He opened one side slightly. The edge was lined with sportswear and plain women's business suits—dull to the point of absurdity.
He switched to the other side, and this time, he hit the jackpot. The wardrobe burst with an array of cosplay outfits.
But they were all male character cosplays from recent years. Where were the cute outfits from before? This slippery teacher sure knew how to hide things.
Still… surely she wouldn't hide her underwear.
Shuichi eagerly began inspecting Sumire's underwear style…
---
"Have you two brought any spare clothes? I saw you had a bag…" Sumire said as she returned after settling Tsuki in the bathroom. Her voice trailed off mid-sentence.
"We didn't bring any, so could you lend her something, Sensei?" Shuichi turned to ask.
Sumire's expression hardened as she tried to summon her teacherly authority. "It's rude to go through someone's things without permission. Didn't you know that?"
"Peeping is pretty rude too, isn't it? The president and I were completely exposed to you, Sensei. Compared to that, checking out your wardrobe is hardly a big deal, right?"
"Then you…" Sumire's face flushed red, her teeth grinding in frustration. "Fine, you looked, but why are you messing with my underwear?"
Shuichi held up a pair of plain white panties, waving them casually. "Oh, these? I just thought the president didn't have a spare, so I was looking for something she could wear. These seem like they'd fit, don't you think?"
"That's a huge problem! Put them down!" Sumire's face burned with embarrassment, utterly mortified.
"There's no way I'd let her use something I've already worn!"
"No big deal. I don't mind, and the president probably minds even less. In fact… she might find it kind of fun." Shuichi winked.
Sumire snatched the panties from his hand, flustered beyond belief. "At the very least, we need to think about hygiene! I have new, unworn ones. Just go wait in the living room."
"Not yet. The president still needs clothes. I remember you had that cosplay outfit, right? It'd suit her figure perfectly, but I didn't see it in there." Shuichi lingered, refusing to budge.
"I didn't bring it here—it's at my parents' place. I'll find some sportswear for her," Sumire said, her eyes darting away as she tried to deflect.
Shuichi stepped closer, leaning down to sniff at her slender neck. "Did you freshen up, Sensei? You smell much better than earlier."
Sumire's face went crimson, and she turned away. "What are you trying to do now? Wasn't today enough for you?"
"I came here to exchange cosplay tips. We've already done the master and maid bit, but you haven't cosplayed yet, Sensei."
Shuichi's arms gently circled her waist, his lips brushing her ear as he spoke softly.
A tingling sensation shot from her ear straight to her heart. Sumire felt like she was under a spell—desperate to pull away but completely unable to move.
"Don't… I'm your teacher…"
"If you're so against it, you could pull away, right? So why aren't you?" His hand slowly slid down from her slim waist.
Sumire shivered, her heart pounding wildly, her mind clouding over again.
"What's Sensei fantasizing about now? If you want something, just say it. I can make it real." Shuichi's hand lingered on her barely-there hips as he spoke.
Sumire panicked even more. "I'm not thinking about that! Stop making things up!"
The moment the words left her mouth, she knew she'd embarrassed herself again. Her head felt like it was steaming.
Yet, even so, she didn't push him away.
"I told you before, I'd never force you, Sensei… unless you invite me yourself."
Shuichi's eyes narrowed with a meaningful smile. He slowly released her and stepped back.
"!!!"
Freed from her invisible binds, Sumire could finally move. But now, she felt a strange disbelief. He'd actually let her go just like that?
He didn't take advantage to do anything more… wicked?
But why… did she feel a faint pang of disappointment?
"Your thoughts are written all over your face, Sensei. Disappointed, aren't you? That I didn't take the chance to do something." Shuichi gave her a teasing, half-smirking look.
"Nonsense! Who'd be disappointed? I'm thrilled!" Sumire snapped, her voice thick with embarrassed defiance.
"Is that so? I'm the one who's disappointed, actually. I really wanted to do something to you just now, but I worried that forcing it might upset you. I don't want to see you sad, so I've been waiting for your invitation—or at least a hint." Shuichi sighed with a touch of regret.
For some reason, Sumire's heart trembled. An impulse surged within her to say something.
Like, 'As long as it's not too much, I wouldn't mind.'
Or maybe, 'I was wrong to peep on you earlier, so I'll grant you one small, reasonable request…'
But a sliver of rationality held her back, and the words stayed unspoken.
Shuichi smiled faintly, saying nothing more. He casually picked up a sports bra from the wardrobe and sniffed it. "Smells nice, Sensei."
Perhaps because she hadn't spoken up, Sumire felt an odd twinge of guilt. His behavior didn't bother her as much as it should have.
"Doing stuff like that will get you labeled a pervert. Can you act a bit more normal? Also, washed clothes just smell like detergent. Your comment makes no sense."
"Then lend me something unwashed to sniff?" Shuichi's gaze settled on her.
Sumire shot him a glare, feeling a mix of exasperation and frustration. "Didn't you say looking in a mirror would be better?"
"I wasn't wrong. Want to check? See if I'm lying." Shuichi lifted his shirt, revealing the results of his recent workouts.
Sumire meant to scoff and shut him down, ready to say something like, 'We're both flat as boards, so don't mock me.'
But when she glanced at him, she froze, then blurted out, "You… changed this much? In such a short time?"
For someone like Sayuki, who saw him regularly, the change might seem gradual. But for Sumire, who'd only seen him once before, the transformation was striking.
"Not bad, right? Want to feel, Sensei? It's fine." Shuichi winked.
Sumire hesitated, but her curiosity stirred. After witnessing such a stimulating scene earlier, she was still human—how could she not be affected?
It felt strange, but…
She licked her dry lips, took a tentative step forward, and raised her hand, lightly resting it on Shuichi's chest.
'So this is what a guy feels like…' The muscles were firm yet elastic, not rigid at all…
And his chest was so warm… What would it feel like to lean against it?
"You've touched me, Sensei. Fair's fair—shouldn't I get to touch you too?"
Feeling her slightly trembling touch, Shuichi spoke up.
"What?"
Sumire's eyes widened. It wasn't free? There was a price? He hadn't mentioned that before!
That's cheating, isn't it?!
"Of course, if you don't want to, that's fine. I said I wouldn't force you. Let's just say you gave me a hands-on lesson in how to get away with something without paying a price—dodge when you can."
"Stop! Don't say it…" Sumire glared at him, seething. "I knew you weren't a good guy. To think I felt guilty for a moment."
"Oh?" Shuichi raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
"Fine, touch. But just once, and no funny business! Got it? Or I'll really get mad."
Sumire bit her lip, puffing indignantly, then closed her eyes and turned her face away.
"You sure, Sensei? Don't force yourself."
"Stop talking! Just do it!" Sumire felt utterly wronged. 'You're the one who tricked me into this, and now you're acting all innocent?'
"Geez, boys really need to protect themselves out there…" Shuichi muttered.
'That jerk! Shameless!' Sumire's teeth itched with rage. She knew he wasn't a good guy, so why had she fallen for his nonsense and actually reached out…?
Suddenly, she felt a chill. Opening her eyes, she saw him unbuttoning her pajamas!
"What are you doing?!"
Shuichi didn't even look up, focused on his task.
"That's a weird question, Sensei. Did you think your permission meant I'd just touch you over your clothes? You went straight for my bare chest."
"…" Sumire was speechless, biting her lip harder. "Fine… just hurry up…"
"Don't rush me. You didn't just touch me—you stared for ages. I've got to do the same to keep things fair, right?"
With that, Shuichi undid all the buttons and parted her pajama top, exposing her pale skin completely.
Being stared at like this made Sumire squirm, her heart pounding so hard she could barely breathe, almost panting.
"Gorgeous. That cool, pale skin looks amazing no matter how you slice it. It'd be even better paired with a cosplay outfit."
Shuichi didn't just stare—he openly critiqued her.
Sumire's chest heaved with frustration, though it barely moved. "Hurry up…"
"Alright, since you're so eager." Shuichi stopped teasing and raised his hand.
"Mmm…"
"That sound…" Shuichi clicked his tongue.
"That's enough! I only touched you for about that long, and stop pinching!"
Sumire's eyes were misty, her vision blurring from the heat rising in her.
"Oh, then step back, Sensei." Shuichi's hands didn't stop.
Sumire was furious. 'If I could move, would I need to keep nagging you?'
"You're not moving. Does that mean I can keep going?"
"No way! Stop it!"
"Strange. Your mouth says one thing, but your body doesn't budge. Which should I believe?"
Sumire's breathing grew more frantic, her vision fading. After watching that "warm-up" game for so long, she was already at her limit.
If she lost control in front of her student…
She'd truly be a failure as a teacher!
Her voice trembled as she pleaded softly, "Please, I'm begging you, stop. If this goes on, I'll… I'll…"
"You'll what? Can you be clearer, Sensei? Your articulation should be better than this."
Shuichi kept up his wicked teasing.
Sumire felt herself teetering on the edge. Desperately, she blurted, "I'll wear a cosplay outfit for you, okay? Ultraman, Headless Rider, anything! Just… please stop…"
"Oh? That's a deal. How about Rikka?" Shuichi paused.
"Yes, fine. Just… let go and step back, please?" Her voice quavered terribly.
"Then I'll leave it to you, Sensei." Shuichi grinned, released her, and stepped back.
Sumire's legs buckled, nearly sending her to the floor. Still, she steadied herself and stumbled out, diving into the bathroom.
"Even so, the president's still in there. You'd think Sensei would've rented a place with a separate bath and toilet. Even with a dry-wet partition, it's not like it hides anything…"
Shuichi tutted, following her to the bathroom door. Sure enough, Sumire's voice came from inside.
"Mmm… hng… Tsuki, don't… don't look over here…"
"Still playing coy at this point, Sensei? That's a bit hypocritical. I was open and honest when you were peeping."
"…" Sumire had no retort.
"You enjoyed watching, didn't you? Why torture yourself holding back? Why not face your desires and join the fun?"
"Why?"
"What's that?"
"Why would you do this, Tsuki? Calling him Master' when you're so talented…"
"Because I like it."
"Because you like Chiba?"
"No, because I like this. And Shuichi's just perverted enough to keep up with me."
"Huh?"
"What, did you think we were in love, Sensei? You're surprisingly pure, aren't you?"
"Then… you two…"
"My family happens to rent a shop from Shuichi's family, so we naturally fell into a master-servant dynamic."
"That's not natural at all…"
"You're not shaking anymore, Sensei. Done already? Felt good, didn't it? Way more fun than going solo, right?"
"Don't ask me that…"
Though she was the teacher, in front of Tsuki, Sumire acted more like a timid rabbit.
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