The bell rang with a sharp metallic clang, signaling the end of Miss Yue Hatake's lecture. The students in the lecture hall stirred, a collective wave of movement, yawns, and the rustling of papers spreading like ripples. Shen Yuo, however, remained frozen in his seat, eyes still glued to the professor's silhouette as she organized her teaching materials at the front.
She hadn't just taught them about cloud infrastructure and virtual servers—she'd unknowingly set his imagination ablaze.
Yue Hatake was a walking contradiction. Soft, fluid movements wrapped in a commanding presence. Her hourglass figure was outlined in a tailored silk blouse and a black pencil skirt that hugged her hips like second skin. The scent of jasmine still lingered faintly in the air from when she walked past his row earlier—Shen could swear it was intentional. Or maybe he was imagining things again.
His notebook, once a canvas for diagrams and code, now held a half-finished sketch of her hand on the desk, nails perfectly manicured, her fingers resting with a grace that had an odd kind of dominance to it.
"Bro, you're spacing out again," Tenjo's voice cut through Shen's reverie like a blade.
Shen blinked rapidly and turned to see his roommate standing in the aisle, backpack slung over one shoulder, his bleached undercut catching the overhead light. Tenjo looked every bit the spoiled playboy son of a fashion mogul. Confidence dripped from him like cologne.
"Did you even take notes?" Tenjo added with a smirk.
"I took…mental notes," Shen mumbled, quickly closing the sketchpad.
"Sure. Mental notes of her ass."
Shen flushed, shooting him a narrow glare. "Shut up."
Tenjo laughed, clapping him on the back. "Come on, nerd. You need coffee and maybe something stronger to cool that brain of yours."
As they exited the lecture hall, the halls of Arakawa Tech buzzed with activity. Boys in sleek uniforms flirted with one another, exchanged homework, or argued over the best way to install cracked mods. It was an all-boys academy, but more than a few carried themselves with the energy of players from a co-ed battlefield.
Tenjo and Shen wove through the crowd toward the exit. But just before they could escape, a voice called out behind them.
"Shen Yuo."
It was her.
Miss Yue Hatake.
Shen turned like a rusty robot, heart jackhammering in his chest. Yue stood at the door of the lecture hall, holding a tablet in one hand. Her lips were painted with a subtle sheen, her expression unreadable but soft. Her eyes—deep pools of garnet brown—met his.
"I noticed your work on the last assignment," she said. "Your approach to cloud partitioning was...refreshingly precise."
Shen's brain jammed. "T-Thank you, Miss Hatake."
"I was wondering if you'd be interested in joining the advanced computing lab on Saturdays. It's optional, but I think you'd thrive."
"Oh, I—uh—sure! Yes, I'd like that."
Tenjo arched an eyebrow at him. Yue offered a faint smile and tapped something onto her tablet before turning away, her heels clicking against the tiles as she disappeared into her office.
Shen stared after her, stunned.
Tenjo whistled low. "Damn, she *likes* you. And not just for your GPA."
"Shut up," Shen muttered again, though this time it was harder to hide the smile forming at the corners of his lips.
---
Later that evening, Room 304 was chaos incarnate.
A pile of laundry teetered on one side of the couch. Takeout containers littered the table. Gon Momoshiki was blasting a cursed remix of anime openings, shirtless and dancing while waving a slice of pizza in the air.
Itajhi Yuki sat in a corner, thumbing through a dog-eared BL manga and sipping quietly on bubble tea.
Shen dropped his bag at the door and slumped into the only clean beanbag left. His mind was still tangled in the scent, voice, and image of Yue Hatake.
"You look like you just got asked out by your waifu," Itajhi said without looking up.
"She offered me a spot in her lab," Shen replied.
Tenjo flopped on the couch, propping his feet on the table. "That's nerd code for: she wants you alone in a room on a weekend."
Gon slid in dramatically on his knees. "Wait. Miss Hatake? As in Big Booty Cloud Goddess? Bro! You win."
Shen blushed furiously. "It's not like that!"
Gon cupped his hands around his mouth. "Shen Yuo is gonna cloud *compute* her heart!"
Laughter erupted.
Still, Shen couldn't help but grin. A little attention from someone like Miss Hatake—someone graceful, powerful, and so utterly out of his league—felt like the first taste of something...real. Something beyond grades and survival.
But his small victory was about to be dwarfed by something much larger.
---
The next night, Shen took a part-time delivery job Tenjo hooked him up with—an exclusive fashion event delivery for a private client. "She's rich, gorgeous, and tips like a god," Tenjo had said, tossing him the address.
When Shen arrived, the night was heavy with mist and perfume. The building was sleek, covered in vertical gold banners and shimmering LED lights. As he walked into the private lobby, he was greeted by ambient jazz and a trio of women in designer dresses chatting near a rose-gold elevator.
And there—standing at the balcony, framed by the Tokyo skyline like a goddess sculpted from dusk and desire—stood *Sakura Kushina*.
She turned as if sensing him.
Her eyes locked onto him. Her lips curled slightly.
And somewhere deep in his chest, something pulsed.
Something… not human.
> **\[System Notification: MILF Conquest System initializing...]**
> **\[User Synchronization in progress...]**
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