Once he got outside, he paused immediately, ears straining, eyes scanning both directions: left toward the stairwell where shadows pooled under the emergency exit sign, right toward the intersecting hall that led to the art room.
'Hmm…' He could smell her perfume but did Hitomi linger here? Did she peek through the keyhole again and watch them?
He crouched slightly, checking the floor for any fresh scuff marks or droplets that might betray a watcher. Something like her pussy juice.
He didn't find any. Maybe she hadn't stuck around to spy this time—or at least not obviously.
Renji straightened, adjusted his backpack and headed toward the art room.
After a few steps, he found himself in the art room door.
The door was ajar when he arrived, a sliver of warm sunlight spilling out from the large windows that lined the far wall.
He pushed it open fully, the hinges giving a familiar squeak, and stepped into the spacious creative haven.
