Tachibana Hina felt something pressing firmly against her thigh. Her delicate body trembled, but she pretended not to notice and forced her tone soft and gentle: "Have you calmed down yet, Shō-Kun?"
"I'm sorry, Hina-Nee, I really didn't mean to."
Yūto Shō's voice came out drenched in shame, though his inner monologue was the exact opposite: Of course I did it on purpose.
"It was just an accident. I don't blame you, Shō-Kun. Can you get off me?"
Tachibana Hina's voice came out small and shy. The heat radiating between her legs was overwhelming, the kind of pressure that nearly tore a moan out of her throat, but she clenched her teeth and locked it behind her lips. Right now, all she wanted was for Yūto Shō to rise quickly and end this unbearably awkward moment.
"Uh, I'll get up right away."
Yūto Shō made his face look properly mortified. After speaking, he scrambled off her in a hurry, deliberately letting his gaze drift to the wall. Any longer pinning her down, and she'd catch onto the act.
The instant his weight lifted, Tachibana Hina threw an arm across her chest. The moment he was fully upright she shot up too, snatching the fallen towel and wrapping it around herself with shaking hands, just barely managing to cover the essentials. She exhaled like she'd surfaced from underwater.
Watching Yūto Shō stand and politely avert his eyes only made Tachibana Hina's fondness for him bloom further. It had been an accident, nothing more. He'd seen her naked, his hand had cupped her chest, but as an adult woman she couldn't bring herself to blame a kid for a slip.
If anything, she worried he might be torturing himself over it. Watching his silent, stiff posture, she sighed inwardly and offered him comfort: "Shō-Kun, this was just an accident. Don't take it to heart. I'm going into the room. Go entertain your classmate—don't keep your sweetheart waiting too long."
With that, Tachibana Hina forced her trembling legs to carry her into the bedroom.
She never noticed that, as she turned her back, Yūto Shō was drinking in every inch of that slender silhouette. In less than a minute of contact, he'd gained a whole new appreciation for a fully matured woman's body. Compared to a young girl, she was a completely different flavor of seduction—an SSR pull in her own right.
That was when Yūto Shō noticed a patch of moisture on the floor, distinctly different from the water he'd splashed earlier. This one was thicker, slicker.
The spot sat right where Tachibana Hina had been lying—directly beneath where her hips had pressed against the tile.
Yūto Shō crouched, reached out, and brushed two fingers across it. Faintly warm. He raised his hand, and between his fingertips and the floor a glistening strand stretched, catching the light like spider silk.
A peculiar gleam flickered through Yūto Shō's eyes. He rose, grabbed the mop, and wiped the floor clean without a word.
…
Sinking onto the sofa, Yūto Shō began replaying this little hentai-adjacent encounter from start to finish.
Natsuo Fuji, by every visible sign, wanted his wife Tachibana Hina to get tangled up with him. The man had practically gift-wrapped her—sending her over to bathe, then ducking out on a flimsy excuse like an NPC clearing the way for a side quest.
As for Tachibana Hina, she had to be in on it at some level. If she'd genuinely refused, things would never have escalated this far.
Yūto Shō figured this couple got off on dangerous games. The husband was a cuckold through and through—didn't mind his wife being touched by another man, actively engineered it. And the wife was probably a slut underneath the prim exterior, the kind who'd been passed around and creampied by more guys than she could count.
The thought cooled Yūto Shō's enthusiasm considerably. A flicker of disgust even surfaced. He still preferred unopened packaging over hand-me-down goods.
But something nagged at him. By his logic, if Tachibana Hina really was that kind of woman, then after the level of skin contact they'd just shared, shouldn't she have pounced on him? Why was she still acting as bashful as a virgin protagonist in episode one?
The system stayed silent, offering no helpful pop-up. He'd have to puzzle this one out solo.
Could it be that Tachibana Hina got off on the classic tsundere routine—the whole "no, stop, don't" while leaning in?
Treating him like prey she didn't want to devour right away, savoring the slow torture of the chase instead?
Yūto Shō felt a flash of irritation. He glanced toward his bedroom door, knowing full well she was probably curled up in there waiting for him to come crawling in.
Fine. Let her wait.
He left her stewing on purpose, stranded in his bedroom without a stitch of her own clothing.
…
After scrolling through his phone for the better part of an hour, he finally got up, crossed the apartment, and rapped his knuckles against the door. "Hina-Nee, my classmate left already. Can I come in?"
He'd decided to talk to her straight—he had no interest in playing tsundere foreplay games. A woman who'd been around the block was a bore, but the negotiation itself needed careful handling. Better not to make an enemy he didn't need.
"You can come in."
At her voice, Yūto Shō pushed the door open and found her perched on the edge of his bed, wearing one of his own sportswear sets, watching him with an expression knotted with conflict.
Tachibana Hina offered an apologetic smile. "Shō-Kun, I borrowed a set of your clothes. You won't be upset, right? I'll buy you a new set tomorrow."
She'd already put them on—what was he supposed to do, demand them back? Yūto Shō just shook his head to show he didn't mind.
Just as he was rehearsing his opening line, Tachibana Hina beat him to the punch: "Shō-Kun, there's something I need to talk to you about."
Her face was dead serious.
Yūto Shō blinked. "What is it?"
Internally, a different question was running laps: was she about to drop the "be my secret lover" bomb on him?
Looking at her painfully beautiful face and the curves filling out his oversized sweatshirt in all the wrong places, Yūto Shō swallowed hard. Turning her down was going to be harder than the final boss of a soulslike.
In that moment, Yūto Shō understood with perfect clarity that, as a virgin, his willpower in front of a gorgeous woman had the structural integrity of wet cardboard. Getting seduced into oblivion would take all of five minutes.
Tachibana Hina gritted her teeth, drew a long breath, and finally pushed the words out in a tiny, mortified voice: "Natsuo Fuji wants me to seduce you. He's a pervert—he gets off on watching his wife sleep with other men, and you're his target."
Yūto Shō froze. This was not the script he'd been expecting.
Tachibana Hina mistook his stillness for shock and gave a bitter, self-mocking smile. "Pretty messed up, right? My husband turning out to be that kind of person."
Yūto Shō snapped back into the moment and put on his best stunned expression. "Hina-Nee, you're not pulling my leg, are you? How could Natsuo-San be that kind of guy? And… you're going along with something like this?"
That last question was the one he actually cared about. He needed to know whether she really was the easy lay he'd pegged her for.
"How could I make a joke like this at my own expense? If I hadn't completely run out of patience with him, if you weren't an innocent party in all this, I would have taken this to the grave. It's a humiliating secret—the kind I don't want a single soul to know."
Tachibana Hina sighed, her tone steeped in bitterness, sorrow etched across her beautiful features.
"I never would've pegged Natsuo-San as that kind of guy!" Yūto Shō did his best wide-eyed shocked-protagonist face, looking at her with manufactured concern. "So, Hina-Nee, what are you planning to do? Be honest with me—if Natsuo-San finds out you told me, he won't take it out on you, will he?"
Tachibana Hina bit her lip and met his eyes. "Shō-Kun, I'm being honest with you. I actually want to ask a favor of you. I'm hoping you'll cooperate with me and put on an act—make Natsuo Fuji believe that we're… together."
By the last word her face had gone soft pink, but her gaze stayed fixed on his, brimming with quiet hope.
"Route One: Proximity wins the war—you're already in her castle gates. Agree to her terms, make her fall for you first. The smartest hunters keep their fangs hidden until the final episode."
"Route Two: Offer your help, but make her pay the price with her body. Tonight, you ride her into next week."
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