September 1st.
At 5:59 AM, Kuroha Akira's eyes snapped open. His hand shot out, silencing the alarm clock a mere second before its scheduled six o'clock shriek.
A part of him longed to sink back into the mattress, but his mind was already crystal clear, all traces of drowsiness burned away. This teenage body came with an almost excessive surplus of energy, a vigor that was sometimes inconvenient.
Resigned, he got up.
Japanese high schools started at a leisurely 8:30 AM, with only six periods a day. Waking at six left a generous buffer of morning time. Previously, Akira had used these hours for vocabulary drills—a habit carried over from his own high school days in his past life, where morning reading sessions were universally dedicated to foreign language memorization.
But starting today, he was finally free from the torturous grind of cramming those alien kanji compounds.
Those characters had been the single greatest obstacle to raising his Japanese proficiency to Lv1. At the beginning, hiragana and katakana were a breeze. Grammar wasn't overly difficult. But vocabulary… that was a wall.
Logically, knowing the original Chinese characters should have given him an advantage, but in reality, his prior knowledge often became a trap. Take '切手' (kitte)—looking at those characters, you'd never guess it meant 'postage stamp.' Countless words were like that, not only bearing different meanings but also being fiendishly easy to write incorrectly. It was like how most native Chinese speakers could recognize traditional characters, but ask them to write a few, and they'd likely stumble.
Recognition ≠ Ability to write. Such was the profound, frustrating beauty of logographic scripts. No wonder they said Japanese was easy to pick up but brutally difficult to master. Akira could now personally attest to that.
But he hadn't been grinding the language to become a scholar or translator. His goal was simply to blend in seamlessly, and he'd finally reached that point.
With vocabulary drills off the morning menu, he found himself with unexpected free time. He'd need to find a new morning routine later. But for this particular morning, he already had a plan.
He moved quietly, slipping out of bed. From above, he could hear the soft, even rhythm of breathing. His 'roommate' on the top bunk was still lost in a deep sleep.
The wicked part of him, however, was about to interrupt that peaceful slumber. He stepped onto the lower bunk's frame, gripped the bedpost, and hoisted himself up to peek over the edge of the top bunk.
She's out cold… and even drooling a little.
Even a stunning beauty wasn't immune to the humble realities of deep sleep. It was… oddly humanizing. If she posts a sleeping photo after she's famous, it'll probably earn her a ton of 'relatable' points with fans.
He reached out with his index finger and gently poked her cheek.
Her skin wasn't just delicate to look at; it felt incredible—soft, pliant, with a tender elasticity. Is this what they mean by 'baby-soft' skin?
After a night's sleep, most people's faces would be a bit oily. Shinomiya's was no exception, but on her, it didn't look greasy. Instead, it gave her bare skin a subtle, dewy sheen, and the texture was slightly slick, which only enhanced the effect. To have skin this good with virtually no upkeep… she truly was a heaven-sent beauty.
Shinomiya, however, wasn't an extremely heavy sleeper. Feeling the foreign touch on her cheek, her brows furrowed slightly. Her groggy eyes fluttered open.
"Hssss…"
She instinctively sucked in a tiny bit of escaped drool.
Akira greeted her with a cheerful grin. "Good morning, Sleepy-head."
"…?
Good morning… Huh?"
Her consciousness was still booting up.
Where am I? Who is this…?
In an instant, the memories of the previous night came flooding back. Shinomiya's eyes flew wide open. She sat bolt upright, throwing the covers off.
"Ah! It's morning already?!"
Akira withdrew his hand, hopped down from the bed frame onto the tatami mat, put his hands on his hips, and looked up at her. "That's right, morning has broken, my dear Miss Shion. As much as I hate to cut your beauty sleep short, our professional voice actor training regimen is about to commence."
"Ugh, I'm getting up right now."
"Might want to wipe your mouth first."
"Ah…"
Blushing fiercely, Shinomiya used the back of her hand to quickly wipe away the damning evidence of drool.
So embarrassing! I've never drooled in my sleep before, not even during kindergarten naps! For him to see it the first time… he must think I look like a total idiot when I sleep.
Was I just too exhausted yesterday? Or maybe… too relaxed…?
"I'll get up now… Ugh…! ! !"
Just as she moved to swing her legs over the side, her body's sensations fully synced with her waking mind. A distinct, uncomfortable dampness from down there made her entire body freeze.
That area… in the middle…
It feels… sticky…!
Th-this sensation is…!
No way… it can't be…!
"What's wrong?" Akira asked, noticing her sudden rigidity.
"N-nothing! Um, Akira-kun, could you… step out for a moment?"
"Why?"
"I-I need to change…"
Akira looked genuinely puzzled. "Change? You don't have any other clothes right now, do you? Didn't you wash your uniform last night?"
"Ugh…"
She needed to take her pants off to check… but she absolutely could not do that in front of him!
Seeing her flustered, deeply embarrassed expression, Kuroha Akira's adult mind quickly connected the dots.
Oh. Is it that time of the month?
Right. Sanitary products would be on the essentials list, too.
She probably needs to deal with stained underwear. Yeah, a guy should definitely vacate the premises.
Playing the part of the clueless but considerate roommate, Akira spread his hands in a gesture of innocent surrender. "Alright, alright. I'll go wash up first and wait for you downstairs."
"Mm."
The moment the door clicked shut behind him, Shinomiya's hand shot under the covers. With a hesitant touch, she confirmed the dampness. Pulling her hand back, she slightly separated her thumb and forefinger. A thin, clear strand of liquid stretched between them…
"..."
How could this be…?!
Drooling was embarrassing enough, but this…?!
So embarrassing! So embarrassing! So embarrassing!!
Shinomiya knelt on the bed, buried her burning face into the pillow, and rubbed it back and forth in mortification, her legs kicking silently against the mattress in a fit of internal screaming.
How did this happen?!
She'd never experienced anything like this before!
No, this is no time to wallow in shame!
Forcing herself to focus, Shinomiya quickly wriggled out of the sweatpants. Holding them up, she inspected the inner thigh area with meticulous care.
Phew… Thank goodness. I didn't soil Akira-kun's pants…
It was a small mercy.
Last night, considering her lack of clean underwear, she'd kept her bottoms on, only removing her bra because sleeping in one was too uncomfortable. Her pants being spared was a minor victory, but the core problem remained.
Her own underwear was now unspeakable. A distinct, damp patch marked the center of the fabric… It wasn't impossible to wear, but Shinomiya's fastidiousness rebelled at the thought. Even if the moisture dried, the area would become stiff and uncomfortable, a decidedly unfriendly environment.
But she had no spare pair.
What do I do?
Should I… go without?
Impossible! Absolutely, categorically impossible!
Even if she had to, she absolutely could not go commando. This was a matter of a young lady's dignity and basic modesty! Only a perverted exhibitionist would go out without underwear, right?!
Just as despair began to set in, her eye caught a glimpse of fabric peeking out from the seam of her pillow. Driven by a flicker of curiosity, she tugged at it.
What she pulled out was precisely the item she so desperately needed in that moment: a pair of clean, white, lace-trimmed panties.
Her eyes widened, sparkling with disbelief.
Could this be… a divine blessing?
****
And this year's Nobel prize for fast response goes to.... Murphy!!!!! For his laws are always quick to bite you in the ass when invoked!