Sayaka turned back to the whiteboard, her spine so rigid it looked like it might snap. The rhythmic squeak-scrape of her marker was the only thing cutting through the heavy, suffocating silence of the room, aside from the frantic scratching of Hina's pen.
The air felt like it was charged with static. It was bizarre—watching Sayaka try to maintain this ice-cold professional facade while her blouse was literally hanging open, exposing the pale curve of her breasts and that delicate black lace. It was a total car crash of a situation; I couldn't look away, but I felt like a creep for watching.
Behind me, I could practically hear the gears turning in Aya's head. She leaned back, a slow, predatory smirk tugging at her lips. She looked at me, her eyes dancing with pure, unfiltered malice, before she reached into her bag.
She pulled out a miniature, neon-colored rubber chicken. She held it up like a trophy, hidden from Sayaka's line of sight, and gave it a squeeze.
SQUEAK!
The sound was pathetic and high-pitched. Aya's eyes lit up with rebellious glee. She winked at me and then nudged the toy to the very edge of her desk, waiting for the slightest movement to send it tumbling.
"Aya, what the hell are you doing?" I whispered, my voice thick with irritation. "Haven't you done enough?"
She leaned in close, her breath warm against my ear. "Relax, Romy. Just having a little fun. Someone's gotta make this funeral interesting, right?"
She rolled her eyes, but I caught the slight tremor in her hands. She was buzzing. "Besides, after that button popped? Why not see how far we can push her?" Her gaze flickered to my face, her smirk widening. "You're looking a bit… flushed, by the way. Something bothering you down there?"
"No, I'm not!" I hissed, feeling the heat climb up my neck. "Just keep that damn thing away from me. I'm not getting dragged into your shit again."
I didn't even hear her move. Suddenly, a shadow fell over my desk. Sayaka was standing right behind me, staring at the rubber chicken like it was a crime scene. She brushed past me to get to Aya, and for a second, her rear was inches from my face—the tight fabric of her skirt straining as she leaned over. I froze, my heart hammering against my ribs.
"Aya," Sayaka's voice was a low, dangerous vibrate. "What exactly is this?"
She plucked the toy off the desk with two fingers, looking disgusted. As she straightened up, the gap in her blouse yawned open, giving me a view that made my head spin. She was too busy burning a hole through Aya with her eyes to notice.
Aya played it off with a fake, wide-eyed innocence. "Just… stress relief? You know how hard math can be, Sensei~"
Sayaka's eyes narrowed into slits. "Detention. Both of you. After school."
She spun on her heel to head back to the board, her skirt swaying dangerously close to my knees.
"What?!" I bolted upright. "Why me? I didn't do anything!"
Sayaka stopped dead. She turned back slowly, her expression unreadable. She walked toward me until her face was mere inches from mine. She leaned down, and the top of her blouse fell away completely—looking down was like staring into the mouth of a beautiful, lace-covered abyss. I could smell her perfume—something floral, expensive, and heavy enough to make me dizzy.
"Because you were involved," she whispered, her voice dripping with quiet authority. "Whispering. Conspiring. And now? Lying to my face."
A bead of sweat rolled down my temple. I couldn't even breathe.
Aya piped up from the back, "Oh come on, Sensei! He was literally telling me to shut up. You can't punish him for that."
"SILENCE!" Sayaka's scream echoed off the walls.
She didn't break eye contact with me for a long, agonizing second before she straightened up and marched back to the front, her heels clicking like a countdown. "We'll discuss this properly after class. Page 142. Now."
Hina shot me a pitying look. Aya just shrugged and went back to doodling.
"Hope you're happy, Aya," I muttered, staring at my book. "What's next? You gonna get me expelled?"
Aya stopped drawing and looked at me with those feigned, doe-eyed looks. "Whoa, bold statement, Romy. If anyone's getting the boot, it's the guy who caused a scene twice in one hour. And spoiler alert: that ain't me."
Before I could tear into her, the door burst open. A few nosy students from the hall poked their heads in, eyes darting between the three of us. "Hey, everything okay? We heard a scream."
Sayaka didn't even turn around. "Everything is fine. Get back to your classes. This is a disciplinary issue that I am handling."
The students lingered for a second, clearly sensing the weird vibe in the room, before shutting the door. Sayaka's shoulders were shaking slightly. She was losing her grip.
"As I said," she grit out, "you two stay after the bell. Use this time wisely."
She started writing again, her hips swaying with every stroke of the marker. She seemed completely oblivious to the fact that her unbuttoned shirt was basically an open invitation.
Aya leaned over and stage-whispered, "Detention together. How romantic~"
"I'll show you romantic when I smack you in the head," I growled.
Aya just winked. "Ooh, getting feisty! I like it. You know, if you're feeling frisky, we could always bail on this and find something… better to do. Who wants to be stuck in a hot room with a lady who can't keep her clothes on?"
Hina's head snapped up, her eyes wide with shock. Sayaka must have heard the whisper, because her face turned a deep, bruised purple.
"I will not tolerate another word!" she roared.
The rest of the hour felt like an eternity. When the bell finally rang, the school emptied out in minutes, leaving the hallways eerily quiet. I sat there in the silence, the air still smelling like Aya's perfume and my own nervous sweat. Aya, of course, had vanished the second the bell rang, leaving her chair empty.
The door creaked open. Sayaka walked in, looking exhausted and frayed. She dumped a stack of papers on her desk. "I see Miss Aya has decided to add 'truancy' to her list of offenses."
She sighed, running a hand through her hair. The movement pulled her shirt taut, making the gap in the front flare open again. She caught me looking and quickly clutched the fabric shut, a fresh blush hitting her cheeks.
She cleared her throat, looking around the empty, shadows-filled room. "Given the… circumstances with my clothes, and the fact that Aya isn't here, it's not appropriate to stay in this open classroom."
She looked at me, her eyes soft for the first time, almost vulnerable. "We should move this to my office. It's private. No interruptions."
She gathered her things, her movements stiff as she tried to hold her shirt together with one hand. She looked at me, a silent, heavy question in her eyes. "Unless you have an objection, Romy?"
My throat felt like it was full of sand. "Well… as you wish, Sensei."
Sayaka let out a tiny, shaky breath—it almost sounded like relief. "Very well. Follow me."