"Is that so…?" Yukino grew increasingly perplexed, pinching her chin as she frowned in recollection. "Career shadowing is mandatory for all students, akin to a final exam. It's outlined in the school's educational charter and carries significant credit weight. Though, for you, those credits might indeed be inconsequential."
"True, but the issue is I previously opted out, so now I need to reapply."
Kagura's gaze drifted to the right bookshelf, lined with classics, quickly spotting The Cherry Orchard, still unfinished despite his frequent visits to the Service Club.
"To blatantly skip a required academic component… Zeamura-kun, what exactly are you attending school for?"
"It's just one shadowing session, no need for such shock."
"Hmph, does your status and prestige make you disregard school rules? So, why reapply now?"
"Oh…" Kagura snapped his fingers, answering promptly, "For two friends who couldn't find suitable shadowing placements."
"Let me guess, at least one's a girl, right?" Yukino smiled confidently, flipping her left hand.
"That's correct."
"Is she the object of your affection?"
"No, no, that's not quite right."
Kagura rubbed his chin, suppressing a chuckle.
His true affection lay with Yukino. Though, at home, he'd fleetingly considered "just marrying Kawasaki," only to be slapped by her. Yukino's words about steadfast love had recentered his focus on her.
This time, he'd stick to winning Yukino.
"I've said before, no need to hide here. I'll keep your requests confidential, like a lawyer. Even if you've committed a crime, you must bare all to your counsel."
"So, strip naked?"
"…" Yukino shot him a disdainful look. "Zeamura-kun, undo one button, and I'll call the police."
"You want me to roast in this summer heat?"
"Regardless, exposing one's chest before a lady is basic decorum."
"Understood, thank you, Teacher Yukino." Kagura smirked, propping his cheek. "I have a question."
"Go ahead."
"What if a lady exposes her chest to me?"
Yukino faltered, her cheeks faintly flushing. She glanced out the window, coughed lightly, and stammered, "In… in that case… you should kindly suggest she cover up."
"And if she insists on baring it?"
"In… such circumstances," she averted his gaze, whispering, "use your judgment and do what's right."
"Hahahaha, you're adorable like this." Kagura slapped his thigh, laughing heartily.
As he laughed, Yukino gripped her skirt's hem, enduring silently before lifting her head, squinting with a smile. "Such teasing will henceforth be deemed harassment. Mind yourself."
"…Yukino, don't you have a sense of humor?"
"A lady baring her chest to a man is gravely serious. How could I jest? You may find it amusing, but I find it discourteous."
"Alright, I'll be careful."
"Once is enough."
"Yoshi!"
Kagura flashed a thumbs-up, still stifling laughter. Yukino, exasperated, palmed her forehead, shaking her head.
Buzz—Buzz—
His phone vibrated in his pocket.
"Sorry, Yukino, may I check?"
"Be my guest."
He pulled out his phone. An email from an unsaved address, yet its contents were all about their class—clearly a burner account. The text read: [Tobe's a punk from Inage, always picking fights at arcades. Yamato's a two-timing scumbag. Ooka's violent in baseball, deliberately injuring opposing pitchers.]
"Hayato's crew again…"
Kagura muttered instinctively.
He'd received similar emails twice over the weekend, skimming and blocking the senders. Yet, the sender kept switching accounts.
"What's happened?"
"Take a look."
He handed her the phone.
Yukino, saying nothing, took it with a slight tremble, steadying to grasp it.
Unlike Shiho's deliberate finger-brushing when taking the bento, Yukino meticulously avoided touching his fingers.
Before she finished reading, a soft knock sounded at the Service Club's door. "Come in."
Yukino, holding the phone, spoke without turning.
A smiling blond boy entered—none other than Hayato Hayama, the class's "protagonist." Behind him trailed Yumiko Miura, yawning, seemingly sleepy. Kagura suspected their late-night chat until 5 a.m. Friday had disrupted her biorhythm.
Spotting Miura, he subtly sniffed his right fingertips. She flushed, turning away, pretending not to notice.
Hayato, entering, saw the phone in Yukino's hand—its color and size clearly not hers. Deducing it was Kagura's, he greeted, "Hey, good afternoon, you two. Is this the Service Club? I wasn't sure of the location, so Yumiko guided me. The old building's tricky to navigate…"
"Can I sit here?"
Miura pointed to the empty spot beside Kagura, raising her voice.
"Please." At his nod, she sat promptly, crossing her right leg over her left, calling to Hayato, "Hayato, sit here."
She patted the narrow space to her left. He turned to close the door.
The spot could fit another person, but Kagura's bag occupied it, making it cramped. Hayato sitting there would press close to Miura, leaving only…
Yukino's side.
Hayato wouldn't dare ask, "Can I sit there?"
Scratching his head, he said, "I'll stand. Long story short, Zeamura-kun, Yukino-san, I've got some troubles. Mind if I discuss them?"
Even standing, Miura didn't scoot away, staying pressed against Kagura. "Go ahead."
Yukino lowered the phone, looking up. "Is that…?"
"Zeamura-kun's email, about your class or circle. Your timing's impeccable." She returned the phone. "Thanks."
"No need." Kagura, less cautious, brushed her fingertip. Yukino shivered, half-covering her lips, coughing. "Please be mindful."
"Sorry."
He retrieved the phone, savoring her flustered blush.
Glancing at Miura, he noticed her slight trembling—she was holding it in, likely all afternoon, ready to dash to the bathroom soon.
"Quite a coincidence. I was about to discuss this…" Hayato frowned, troubled. "These messages are circulating in class, souring the atmosphere. I don't want to catch the culprit, just stop the messages."
"I see…"
Yukino nodded solemnly.
This foolish Zeamura hasn't grown at all, touching a girl's hand so carelessly. Now my body's acting strange again… Is he cursing me with these subtle touches? Psychological suggestion? Hypnosis?
Yukino barely registered Hayato's issue, grappling with a twitching sensation in her private area.
Mai's scheme had worked—Yukino hadn't masturbated at school since, enduring until home, where fresh air calmed her. But Kagura's Friday night message had stirred her, leading to a relapse.
"Isn't the solution simple?" Kagura waved his phone, scoffing.
"Really?! Please, enlighten me!"
Hayato bowed sincerely, Miura eyeing Kagura admiringly. "I'll help, but if it works, you owe me dinner."
"Zeamura-kun… The Service Club's aid is free. Don't tarnish our name."
"Free for everyone, including Hayato?"
"Inclu…" Yukino paused, glancing at Hayato. "Even Hayato-san."
"…"
Kagura sensed her "even" was harsher than charging Hayato. "Hayato~~, if you're treating him, treat me too."
Miura patted Kagura's shoulder, stirring trouble.
"Cough, no problem. If Zeamura-kun resolves this as promised, dinner's on me. Yumiko, join us."
Hayato, losing face, found a way out.
Yukino shook her head, disliking his conciliatory nature.
Kagura, satisfied, snapped his fingers. "I got the first email this past weekend. The cause is simple—career shadowing's three-person groups. Your three friends all want to join you, but grouping means one's left out. No one wants that, so they're tacitly sending these. Just tell them you're not grouping with them."
"That could work…?"
Hayato exhaled, enlightened.
"Try it, Hayato," Miura said, winking coyly. "Hayato, good food, good food!"
"Alright, I'll test it. If it works, we'll meet then. Zeamura-kun, any favorite spots?"
"Hm…" Kagura glanced at Miura, smiling, extending a hand. "With a lady present, let her choose. I'm fine with anything."
"N-No way…! Zeamura, pick what you like…" Miura instantly advocated for him.
She had her own cravings, but how could she prioritize herself over Kagura? His preferences came first!
"Yeah, Zeamura-kun, think it over. I'll test your idea! That's it for today." Hayato, sensing an odd vibe, smiled and retreated strategically, grabbing his bag. "Yumiko, heading back?"
"I… I've got something too, Hayato… You go…" Miura, legs tightly crossed, gritted her teeth.
"Alright, see you~" Hayato nodded smilingly at Yukino. "Thanks, Yukino-san."
"No need. I did nothing."
"Cough… Anyway, bye."
Choked, Hayato fled the Service Club.
Kagura guessed Miura's issue, likely wanting a private talk. After Hayato left, Yukino exhaled, adjusting her mood, asking, "Miura-san, your concern is—?"
"I… I…"
Miura's eyes darted to Kagura's face.
Yukino recalled Mai's claim that Kagura "tricked Miura into letting him touch her legs." Though he'd abandoned the plan, it left a lasting negative impression.
"No worries, Miura-san. If you're threatened or blackmailed, don't fear. Tell me everything, and I'll fight for you, no matter who it is. It's a matter of principle—I'll protect you!"
Yukino was eager for evidence of Kagura's "curse."
"Huh?! What's that mean? You looking down on me?"
Her concern twisted in Miura's mind. After a stunned pause, she snapped at Yukino. As the "big sister" leading over thirty underlings, threatened or blackmailed? Protected? Hah, who did Yukino think she was? If trouble arose, it was unclear who'd protect whom!
Look at Kagura's scrawny limbs—during his date with Kei, hadn't she protected him?
"Uh…?"
Yukino was baffled by Miura's retort.
"I've got nothing to say to you. I'm here for him. Stop meddling."
"Is that so? My mistake, then."
Most girls might've stood, fuming, but Yukino remained eerily calm. She picked up her book, flipping it open with a serene "carry on" expression.
Kagura admired this—few girls stayed composed under provocation.
Case in point: Yumiko Miura.
Yukino's concern sparked an explosion. Imagine actual provocation…
Kagura met Miura's gaze, about to speak, when the Service Club's door was softly knocked. "Cough… Come in."
Yukino turned, watching the door.
The awkward atmosphere needed breaking, and a newcomer was perfect. "Creak… Creak…"
The door shuddered but didn't open.
It required force, so Yukino called, "Push harder."
Bang! The door swung open, revealing a pale-faced Miko Yotsuya, knees buckling, collapsing at the threshold.
Her hands rose, bracing the doorframe as if fearing it'd slam back, her shirt cuffs pulled long, covering half her palms, fingertips clutching the edges—a pitifully adorable sight.
Her fear was palpable, barely mustering strength to push, collapsing into a trembling heap. She'd good reason—her awakened yin-yang eyes made her first old-building visit terrifying.
Most girls screamed in groups here, unable to see spirits. Miko, who could, walked on eggshells, dreading a ghostly ambush.
In truth, the old building was spirit-free—Kagura had thoroughly checked.
Yukino hurried over, crouching to help her up. "Are you alright? Pull yourself together!"
With Yukino away, Kagura brazenly slipped his hand under Miura's skirt, pinching her pert rear, flicking the hem as he withdrew.
Oh… Light brown lace silk panties. Sexy.
Miura, seeing Yukino rise, slapped his hand, smoothing her skirt, huffing coldly.
Not like I won't show you. What's the rush?
"I… I'm fine… Hah… Hah…"
Miko, supported by Yukino, stood. As she did, something fell from her skirt's side pocket. All four looked—a short calligraphy brush?
After Kagura wrote on her hand, the effect lasted two days. This morning, a "little old man" spirit appeared, unbanished by her "punches," nearly scaring her to death.
The "little old man" was a tiny, shiny-object-loving spirit, finger-sized. Miko, finding it non-threatening, used it to test Kagura's talisman.
She crouched, snatching the brush, gripping it tightly, warily eyeing Yukino, who looked puzzled. "What's that…?"
"Hah… N-Nothing… Just a brush, yeah, a brush." Miko hid it guiltily, as if concealing a vibrator. She was here for Kagura to rewrite the talisman.
"Is it…?" Yukino gestured for her to sit.
Miko eyed the sofa, choosing the seat opposite Kagura. Yukino sat across from Miura.
"Hah… Hah…" Sitting, Miko seemed to relax, patting her surprisingly ample chest, head lowered. Yukino, as if reassuring herself, said, "It's fine, no need to fear. Ghosts don't exist. If you need help, come to the Service Club boldly."
"Uh… Hehehe…" Miko's lips twitched in a strained smile. "Thanks, I'm okay…"
Kagura stifled laughter, touching his lips. Yukino, blind to spirits, lecturing a yin-yang-eyed Miko?
"The Service Club's lively today…"
Yukino flipped her hand at Kagura, tilting her head smugly. "It proves my club's purpose. My efforts aren't wasted. If only you'd grasp the value of helping others. Demanding payment from Hayato? I'm at a loss."
"Dinner's payment? Just social reciprocity. I'll treat next time."
"Fair… I hadn't considered that." Yukino pondered, turning to Miko. "Hello, I'm Yukino Yukino, Year 2, Class J. And you are?"
"Year 2, Class C, Miko Yotsuya… Sorry for intruding."
Miko, still shaken, patted her chest, bowing slightly.
"No trouble. You're here with a request, I presume. Care to share?" Yukino, hand on chest, smiled like a confidante.
"Um…" Miko glanced at Kagura, clutching the brush in her pocket. "I… I need Zeamura-kun for something. He wasn't in Class F, and his friends said he might be here, so I rushed over."
"I see…" Yukino glanced at Miura, sighing disappointedly. "So, not a Service Club request?"
"Um… Just… cough, personal reasons." Miko stared at her knees, dazed.
Asking Zeamura-kun to write on me? If I say that, I'll be labeled a pervert… No way!!
"So, Yukino, don't assume. People come here for Zeamura too." Miura, legs crossed, slapped Kagura's shoulder twice.
Ugh… My bladder's bursting…
"See, Yukino, your selfless help gets fewer visitors than my paid favors!" Kagura teased.
"Personal matters and requests are separate. Don't conflate them. On Hayato's issue, I'd find the culprit. Your solution's unproven—I won't concede until results show."
Yukino stood, grabbing her bag from the desk, slinging it over her shoulder, and headed for the door. "Club activities end here. Zeamura-kun, lock the door and windows before leaving. Goodbye."
"See you tomorrow."
"Later."
Yukino yanked the door open, slipped out, and left without looking back. With everyone seeking Kagura, she'd only be in the way—she wasn't that oblivious.
In the Service Club, Miko curiously scanned the room, spotting the dozing nine-tailed fox spirit on Kagura's shoulder, calming her. About to speak, she caught Miura's intense stare, startling her. "M-Miura-san, you first. You're here for Zeamura-kun too, right?"
"My stuff can wait. Don't waste our time—spit it out."
Miura's legs tightened, trembling with effort.
This girl's so wordy. I'm about to leak—hurry up!
Miko's face paled, clutching the brush, head bowed, muttering inwardly, At least wait outside… I don't want you knowing.
But asking Miura to "wait outside" was beyond her courage. Miura's reputation was infamous—her glare alone made girls whimper.
"How about both at once?"
Kagura, cheekily, winked at them.
Miko and Miura locked eyes, growling in unison, "Ab-so-lute-ly NOT!"
"Then one at a time. You two need to decide who goes first. Rock-paper-scissors?"
"No way!"
Miura elbowed him. "Pass…"
Miko waved her left hand slowly, like a farewell.
"Fine." Kagura stood, leaning to Miura's ear, inhaling her rose fragrance. "It's that thing, right, Yumiko? Please wait outside a bit. Hold it longer—it feels better, no?"
"Ugh…" Miura's ears softened at his plea. Glaring at Miko, she stood, legs clamped, storming out, yanking the door open. "You're Yotsuya from Class C, right? Make it quick."
"Uh… Yes."
Miko nodded timidly. Once Miura shut the door, she pulled out the brush.
Holding it with thumbs, index, and middle fingers, she rubbed it against her lips, cheeks flushed, whispering, "T-The thing you helped with before… Could you write it again today…?"
"Sure, but why again?"
"Maybe my fault… Anyway, the effect faded this morning. Please, one more time."
"Got it…" He extended his right hand. "Hand me the brush."
Miko stood, sitting where Miura had, but farther away.
"Here." She respectfully offered the brush with both hands, then resolutely extended her right hand's back. "Please!"
"Uh… Yotsuya-san, got any water?"
He flicked the dry brush, scanning the room.
"Water…? I…" Miko fumbled her skirt pockets, finding none, then blurted, "Saliva… would work… right?"
"Saliva?!"
Kagura's eyes widened. This girl's bold!
"Eh?" Miko snapped back, realizing her shameless words. Waving her hands, face red, she stammered, "N-No… I just blurted it. Let's find water…"
Ugh, what did I say?! Asking a guy to write on me is weird enough, now saliva? Am I a pervert?! Wake up, Miko Yotsuya!!
She waved frantically, fearing she'd be branded a freak.
But Kagura thought of Miura, "full of water" and eager to release. Taking water from her would drive Miko mad. After a moment, he handed the brush back. "Saliva's fine. Try licking it, Yotsuya-san."
"Oh… Right!"
Saved, saved! He covered for me! Stupid Miko, think smoother!
She grabbed the brush, ready to lick, but paused.
A girl alone with a boy, licking a furry stick shamelessly in his presence? Too brazen!
She lowered the brush, gripping it, face crimson, handing it back. "I… Forget it. You handle it, Zeamura-kun!"
"Uh…?"
Is she a pervert?
Miko peeked, seeing his odd look, and scrambled, flailing, "L-Look, uh… Last time, plain water worked well, so I thought your bodily fluids might be stronger… Haha, maybe I'm overthinking? Just… wanted to try."
Her flustered, cute explanation prompted Kagura to pat her head. "Fine, if you're okay with it."
"Phew… It's just on my hand, I'm fine." Relieved to have dodged scrutiny, she clenched her right fist, offering it again.
"But wouldn't blood be better?" He paused, about to lick the brush.
"Blood… Well," Miko pinched her chin, looking away, musing softly, "It might be stronger, but… No, no, I can't make you bleed. That's too much."
"Pricking a finger to write? I can handle it."
"No way, I can't trouble you like that!" She grabbed his wrist, shaking her head, muttering, "Saliva's enough…"
"Alright, maybe a marker's better?"
He moistened the new brush with his saliva, unbothered.
"A marker on my hand's odd…"
"True, markers suit less visible body parts."
"Uh…"
Miko nearly agreed but shut her mouth.
How'd writing become so shameful? Marking hidden spots like a sex toy?
Still, she saw his point, but a marker was risky. If her mom saw it, how'd she explain suspicious boy-girl interactions?
Maybe…
Wait! A UV-fluorescent marker, visible only under blacklight—perfect!
The awkward silence grew. Kagura removed the now-wet brush tip. Miko, seeing the saliva-drenched tip, felt a familiar uterine flutter, her private area twitching, craving.
She clamped her legs, sitting rigid, feigning calm. "On my hand's fine?"
Kagura held the brush carefully, avoiding drips. Miko stared at his hand, salivating, swallowing hard.
His hands are gorgeous… If those fingers touched there… I'd climax to madness.
"Please proceed."
She offered her clenched right fist again.
But her head dipped, ears burning, neck warming, from her own words: "Please proceed."
In Japanese, "お筆を降ろしてください" could mean "Please break my virginity," as "筆おろし" (first male sexual experience) translates to "lowering the brush" or "using a new brush." Typically, an experienced older woman might say this to a virgin boy in bed.
(For girls, Japan, like China, uses "breaking the melon" for first intercourse.)
Had she brought a non-brush, it'd be fine. But she'd chosen a new calligraphy brush.
Done for! He won't misinterpret, right? I'll die if he does!! I'm not an experienced older woman—I'm a virgin! I'm not lustful, please don't misunderstand!
Her mind churned, head bowed, too scared to look. But Kagura, having "lowered his brush" with Ai Hayasaka (who also "broke her melon" with him), was desensitized to such terms.
Miko clutched her left sleeve to her lips, eyes closed, awaiting the brush.
Wet… Sticky, warm yet cool… Soft, itchy, so itchy… What's he writing? Don't know… Don't care… My womb's hot, my pussy's twitching, panties grazing my clit—I'm close… Bad, bad, bad… His saliva… Like he's licking my hand… Or my pussy? Wetter… Feels like he's licking… My clit… I'm coming!!
Before he finished the character "臨," Miko's legs clamped, left hand covering her lips, body quaking. Suppressed gasps slipped through her fingers, warm tides surging through her writhing vaginal walls, silently soaking her slightly dampened panties.
If last time Kagura only suspected, now he was certain of Miko's state during writing.
Is she really a pervert? Uncomfortable or too comfortable?
Shakily finishing the final stroke, he exhaled, ceremoniously returning the brush.
Miko, head bowed, grabbed it, nodding silently in thanks. Pressing her skirt, she stood slowly, hair hiding her face, murmuring, "Today… I troubled you…"
"No problem…" He glanced at her seat. The purple sofa cushion bore faint "black" stains—liquid, clearly. With a wave, he muttered "Cleanse," restoring it.
Miko seemed oblivious to her leak. Kagura probed, "Yotsuya-san, you okay? You seem off."
She shook her head like a rattle, clutched the brush, and fled the Service Club.