The hotel corridor was a world of hushed, polished elegance. It was spacious and bright, illuminated by soft, recessed lighting. A plush, dove-grey carpet underfoot absorbed all sound, rendering their footsteps nearly silent.
On both walls, framed in sleek black or silver, hung a series of exquisite, abstract paintings—splashes of color and form that added a deliberate, sophisticated artistic flair to the sterile environment. At regular intervals, tall, potted plants with broad, glossy green leaves stood like silent sentinels, injecting a necessary breath of natural vitality into the otherwise modern, minimalist space.
"..."
Kani Nayuta followed a half-step behind Kasumigaoka Touji, her heart beginning to drum a steady, anticipatory rhythm against her ribs. This was it. The moment of transition. It was, after all, her first time entering a hotel room with a boy. A flutter of nervousness was only natural, but it was thoroughly overwhelmed by a buzzing, electric current of excitement and vivid, cinematic anticipation.
What's going to happen next?
How is he going to… treat me?
And… how much should I pretend to resist? Or should I take the initiative the moment the door closes and surprise him?
Her imagination, always her most powerful tool, was now in overdrive, conjuring a dozen different scenarios. She felt almost lightheaded, as if she were floating down the corridor rather than walking. Her hands, hanging at her sides, felt strangely restless, her fingers twitching with unspent energy.
"909… We're here. This is our room."
Kasumigaoka Touji's calm voice cut through her reverie. He stopped before a door identical to all the others save for its number. He took the sleek key card from his pocket and placed it against the sensor. A soft, polite ding sounded, followed by the solid, satisfying click of the lock disengaging. The door swung inward silently.
He stepped inside, found the card slot by the entrance, and inserted the key. The room awoke. Warm, ambient light flooded from fixtures in the ceiling and walls. The large flat-screen television on the wall flickered to life on a muted welcome channel.
With a quiet whir, the heavy blackout curtains in the main bedroom area began to part automatically, revealing the daytime cityscape beyond.
"Not bad at all…"
The first order of business was always reconnaissance. Kasumigaoka Touji did a quick circuit: a glance into the separate water closet, a peek at the spacious bathroom with its deep tub and rainfall shower, and finally a proper look at the main bedroom. He gave a satisfied nod.
He'd booked a Deluxe King room for a reason. The bed was indeed king-sized, dominating the space invitingly. The only slight letdown was the view—a fairly standard Tokyo cityscape of concrete, glass, and the sides of other buildings. Not exactly romantic, but it couldn't be helped.
It had been a last-minute decision.
After checking several hotels near their location, this was the best room he'd been able to secure on a weekend. Tokyo hotels, especially in popular areas like this near the Tokyo Skytree, were always tricky. He was just thankful it wasn't a national holiday; on those days, even a standard double room would have been a miracle.
"..."
He walked over to the small sitting area by the window and placed his black shoulder bag on the sofa. As he straightened up, he heard Kani Nayuta's voice from behind him, her tone laced with playful, deliberate ambiguity.
"So, Winter-sensei… how exactly do you plan to 'absorb spiritual nourishment' today?"
Before he could even turn around to answer, he felt a sudden, mischievous pinch on his backside.
She got me first!
He spun around, genuine surprise on his face. The tables had been turned! It was a profound revelation: it wasn't just men who enjoyed such playful assaults; women, it seemed, were equally fond of initiating them.
Seeing the startled look flash across Kasumigaoka Touji's features, a thrilling, triumphant excitement surged through Kani Nayuta. She'd caught him off guard! The words spilled out before she could think.
"Perfect! That expression! Priceless!"
Kasumigaoka Touji: "..."
His expression shifted from surprise to one of flat, deadpan astonishment, which only seemed to amuse her more.
"Alright, alright, alright!" he said, raising his hands in mock surrender, a slow grin spreading across his own face. He'd come here with a simple plan: drop the bags, share a warm, intimate moment, and then head back out to continue their date unencumbered. Carrying luggage was a definite mood-killer.
But now? Plans were meant to be adapted.
"Since you've started this… you have to strike a pose first!"
The counterattack was on.
He settled back onto the sofa, crossing one leg over the other, and regarded Kani Nayuta with a look that was both commanding and deeply amused. The atmosphere in the room had shifted instantly from tentative to charged with playful competition.
"Strike a… pose?" Kani Nayuta blinked, her victorious smirk fading into bewilderment. This was not in any of the scenarios she'd imagined! Where was the sweeping romantic gesture, the passionate embrace? "What kind of pose?"
"Just a pose. An artistic one," he said, his tone light but leaving no room for argument. "Go on. Show me what you've got."
Still confused but game, Kani Nayuta tentatively raised a hand to her hip, made a peace sign with her fingers, and tilted her head to the side with what she hoped was devastating cuteness. "Like… this?"
Kasumigaoka Touji studied her for a moment, a connoisseur assessing a piece. "Hmm… While undeniably cute, there's still a significant gap from the specific aesthetic I had in mind. Allow me to provide some instruction!"
Art Instructor Kasumigaoka Touji is now online!
He rose from the sofa with the gravitas of a seasoned maestro and walked over to her. "To strike an excellent pose, one must first consider the environment, the lighting, the mood…"
Kani Nayuta, intrigued despite herself, found herself nodding along. That… actually made sense. This was just another form of composition, wasn't it?
"Like the environment we find ourselves in now…" Kasumigaoka Touji's gaze swept the room, analytically. It landed on a low, round wooden coffee table positioned about a meter in front of the large window. The afternoon light streamed across its surface. "For our first lesson… lie down on that coffee table for me. On your stomach."
Kani Nayuta: "..."
As a cultured young woman well-versed in 'all kinds of literature and art,' the intended pose clicked in her mind almost instantly. A deep, anticipatory blush crept up her neck, but it was accompanied by a fresh wave of that thrilling excitement. He wasn't being boring or predictable. He was making it… artistic.
"…Like this?" she asked, her voice a little huskier than before. She didn't refuse. Walking over to the table, she bent at the waist, gracefully lowering her upper body until it was parallel to the polished wood. She arched her back slightly, presenting the curve of her rear, and looked back over her shoulder at Kasumigaoka Touji, her blue eyes wide and questioning.
"Yes! Exactly like that! Perfect!" Kasumigaoka Touji's eyes lit up with genuine artistic appreciation. He gave her a firm thumbs-up. "Kani-sensei is a natural! She understands the assignment with just a hint! Brilliant!"
Then, he allowed himself to truly look—to appreciate the human art before him. Her khaki A-line mini skirt was pulled taut over the generous, pleasing curve of her hips, accentuating a beautifully rounded silhouette.
Below the skirt's hem, her legs were a vision—long, slender, and flawlessly smooth, disappearing into the mid-calf boots whose darker shade provided perfect visual contrast. The line of her back, dipping at the waist before rising again, was a masterclass in elegant anatomy. The way her upper body lay parallel to the table created a composition full of tension and grace. One couldn't help but marvel at the creator's—or in this case, nature's—ingenuity.
"..."
Striking such an intentionally provocative pose under his appreciative, studying gaze sent a mix of intense shyness and exhilarating excitement coursing through Kani Nayuta. It felt incredibly bold, incredibly naughty. She bit her lower lip and threw a look back at him that was pure, unadulterated flirtation—a challenge and an invitation all in one.
Kasumigaoka Touji felt the challenge keenly. He couldn't just stand there. He stepped forward, closing the distance, and leaned down to place a soft, responsive kiss on the back of her neck, his hand coming to rest on the small of her back.
After a moment of this 'artistic feedback,' he straightened up, a new idea forming. "…Can I take a picture?"
"You can," Kani Nayuta murmured, her voice muffled slightly against her arm. She turned her head to look at him again, her cheeks now fully flushed, her lips pink and slightly parted, her eyes glistening. "But, Winter-sensei… you have to pose for me later, too. And let me take pictures. That's the condition."
Kasumigaoka Touji: "..."
What kind of pose is she going to demand from me? he wondered, looking at the wild, adventurous spark in her eyes with a newfound suspicion. She was far bolder in person than he'd ever anticipated.
Well… he could worry about that later. For now, he had a masterpiece to capture. He could always… renegotiate the terms afterwards. A gentleman's agreement could be flexible.
"Fine, fine," he hummed in agreement, pulling out his phone. He lifted it, framing her in the screen. "Now, hold that pose… perfect. Don't move."
Click. Click-click—
The soft, digital shutter sounds began to punctuate the quiet room. He moved around her, capturing the pose from different angles—the dramatic silhouette against the window light, the intimate close-up of the contrast between her soft sweater and the dark wood. He guided her into slight variations: a turn of the head, a different placement of her hands, the arch of her back just a little more pronounced.
Of course, during this intensive photographic session, he didn't forget his duties as both artist and collaborator. There were frequent, friendly "adjustments" to her posture, gentle touches to guide a limb into a more aesthetically pleasing line, and soft, appreciative whispers that were as much a part of the artistic process as the camera itself.
The line between instruction, appreciation, and sheer, playful intimacy became deliciously blurred. The hotel room was no longer just a place to stay; it had become their private studio, and the art they were creating was uniquely, thrillingly their own.