"One minute. You are exactly one minute late."
Her voice wasn't loud. It was a low, jagged whisper that felt sharper than a razor blade. She didn't need to yell; the sheer weight of her gaze was enough to make the air in the room feel twice as heavy. "Punctuality isn't a suggestion, Romy. For an assistant, it's the bare minimum. A fundamental expectation that you've already managed to fail."
She took a slow, predator-like step toward me. The scent of her perfume—that expensive, floral heat—was suddenly everywhere, clogging my lungs. "Maybe you need a more… direct lesson on what 'early' actually looks like."
"I'm sorry! Seriously, it wasn't on purpose," I blurted out, my heart thumping against my ribs. "I promise it won't happen again!"
Sayaka's eyes thinned into dangerous slits. She took another step, her presence completely swallowing the tiny space between us. "Promises are just noise. I care about actions."
She reached onto her desk and snatched up a red pen—the kind teachers use to bleed all over a bad essay. She began tapping it against her palm. Tap. Tap. Tap. It was a rhythmic, menacing sound. "Since you're so casual with my time, I'll be taking an hour of yours today. You're going to organize these student files… and you're going to be meticulous."
It wasn't just a punishment. It felt like she was marking her territory, making sure I knew exactly who owned me for the next month.
"Fine," I muttered, trying to keep my voice steady. "As your 'assistant,' where do I start?"
Her expression shifted, a tiny flash of satisfaction crossing her face. She shoved a massive, chaotic stack of papers toward me. As she moved, the gap in her unbuttoned blouse shifted, offering a distracting, rhythmic glimpse of what lay beneath. "Alphabetical. Student records in the blue folder, disciplinary notes in the red. Be precise."
She didn't move away. Instead, she leaned over my shoulder to point at the first pile. I could feel the heat radiating off her body; I could hear the catch in her breath. The office felt like an oven. "Don't think I won't check every single page. One mistake, and you're staying until the sun goes down."
Her finger traced the edge of a document, 'accidentally' brushing against the back of my hand. The contact felt like an electric shock. "Begin."
I started sorting, my hands shaking slightly. I grabbed a stack of homework files. Wait. Homework. My stomach did a slow, sickening flip. I'd completely forgotten to even open the book she gave me yesterday. I glanced over my shoulder, and my heart nearly stopped. She was already standing right there, her eyes boring into the back of my skull.
She loomed over me, her breath hot against my neck. She'd been waiting for this. I could see the predatory glint in her eyes—she knew.
"Something… troubling you?" Her voice was the quiet before a hurricane. She leaned in even closer, the soft fabric of her open blouse brushing against my shoulder. The scent of her was intoxicating and terrifying all at once. "I believe we had a very explicit talk about that homework yesterday. Should I refresh your memory on what happens to negligent students?"
The red pen tapped against the files. Tap. Tap. Tap. Like a countdown.
"N-nothing! I know the consequences," I stammered, casting a desperate glance at my bag on the chair. I just prayed she wouldn't ask.
Sayaka followed my eyes to the bag. A slow, dark smile spread across her lips. "Interesting. Let's see it. Now."
There was zero room for argument. She stepped into my personal space, blocking the only way out of the cubicle. Her body was a wall of heat and lace. "I'm waiting."
As she leaned down, her breath grazed my ear. The tension was suffocating—a mix of professional dread and a primal, heavy attraction that made it impossible to think straight. She reached past me, her chest pressing uncomfortably hard against my shoulder, and snatched my bag. Her fingers moved with agonizing slowness as she slid the zipper open.
"We'll deal with that later. Show. Me."
My forehead was slick with sweat. I didn't know if it was the pressure or the sight of her blouse gaping open inches from my face, but I was falling apart. I reached into the bag with trembling hands and pulled out the book.
Sayaka's eyes widened, then turned into cold, hard stones. The silence in that office was heavy enough to crush me.
"Empty." Her voice was dangerously level, vibrating with a controlled rage that was way scarier than screaming. She flipped through the blank, white pages before slamming the book onto the desk. "Clearly, detention isn't a strong enough motivator for you."
She leaned in, her proximity amplifying the sheer force of her presence. "You're going to finish every single page. Right now. Before class starts."
She locked her gaze onto mine, pinning me to the chair. The red pen kept up its metronome beat. "And then… we'll discuss the extra consequences."
"But what about sorting the file?"
Sayaka's lips curl into a dangerous smile, a mix of professional irritation and something more calculated. "Multitasking, then. You'll sort these files while completing your homework. One mistake in either task, and the consequences become... significantly more unpleasant."
She slides the homework assignment towards me, then points to the scattered files, her unbuttoned blouse shifting with the movement.
"Begin. Now."
Her voice is a low, controlled threat. The red pen taps against the desk - a constant, menacing reminder of her expectations. "I'll be watching every single move."
The tension in the office becomes almost tense, her presence filling every corner with a mix of professional authority and something far more intense.
"Fine!" I snapped, the frustration finally boiling over. "But Sensei, do you really have to be this close? Your chest is… it's pressing right into my shoulder…"
Sayaka froze. Her eyes went wide, and I watched a deep, burning flush crawl from her chest all the way up to her ears. She recoiled, taking a small, frantic step back. "My… my proximity is irrelevant to your work," she grit out, her voice suddenly high and defensive.
She fumbled with her blouse, her fingers shaking as she tried to pull the edges together, though the buttons refused to cooperate. She looked rattled, the first crack in her icy armor. "Unless, of course, my presence is distracting you from your duties. Is that what you're implying?"
I couldn't even look at her anymore. I just shook my head to avoid further trouble.
The unbuttoned blouse remains, a silent testament to her earlier state of undress, now perhaps a deliberate test of my focus.
"I expect full concentration. On both tasks. Starting now!"