Normally, she would absolutely reject anything that went against morality or ethics.
But—her weakness had been completely seized.
Lying on her bed, Stella let out a deep sigh, tossing and turning restlessly, utterly unable to fall asleep.
"…Makoto…"
She whispered the name in a voice so soft only she herself could hear—a name that made her heart itch with longing.
For Stella, who had grown up never really interacting with men, this was the first—and only—male who made her want to know more, to come closer.
She wanted to keep watching his sleeping face. Even though there was still half an hour before the boy would normally wake up, she could no longer suppress the impulse welling inside her.
And this—this was exactly the advantage of sharing a room.
As long as she wished, she could see him at any time.
She tiptoed down the ladder, careful not to make the slightest noise that might disturb the boy sleeping soundly below.
Haramura Makoto remained in deep slumber.
He didn't snore, but from where she stood, Stella could clearly hear the steady rhythm of his breathing.
"…Makoto…"
Once again she whispered his name, eyes brimming with tenderness.
She wanted to talk to him, but when she saw how peacefully he slept, she couldn't bring herself to wake this boy who had already taken up residence in her heart.
"…Forget it. I'll just go wash up first."
Murmuring to herself, Stella began to pull her gaze away.
But as she did so, her eyes froze—caught by something.
Makoto's chest, bare beneath his half-open sleepwear.
The top two buttons of his shirt had come undone, exposing his broad chest, his refined collarbones, and the faint rise and fall of his Adam's apple.
Faced with all of this at once, Stella found she simply couldn't look away.
Gulp—
"…Just… just a little touch… he shouldn't wake up from that, right?"
Swallowing hard, Stella cast aside hesitation. She reached out, letting her hand rest lightly against his chest.
Then, she gently stroked it.
"Mmh… mmmh…"
Her blood felt like it was boiling. She bit her lip hard, suppressing the excited moan threatening to escape.
She could feel it—the firmness of his chest, the warmth radiating from his body.
Thump, thump—
Her heartbeat raced faster and faster, as though it might burst from her throat. Her breathing grew ragged.
I want more… I want to feel more.
Through his body… I want to understand more about him.
The surging tide of desire washed away Stella's reason.
What little rationality she had left was swept completely clean. To put it bluntly—she had lost control.
Her movements grew bolder, though still gentle. She carefully climbed onto his bed, straddling him without so much as a rustle of fabric.
The blanket was pushed aside, and now more than just his chest was exposed.
His shirt had ridden up, revealing the sculpted lines of his well-trained abs.
Stella's hands wandered freely now—one on his chest, the other on his stomach. Her pale fingers traced slowly along the line where skin met fabric.
So this… this is a man's body. This is Makoto's body…
Was it from the moment he first defeated her?
Or when he showed such trust in her?
Or perhaps when she tasted the food he had cooked so perfectly?
She didn't know exactly when—but somehow, this boy, the first man outside her family to step into her life, had become someone she could no longer ignore.
But that didn't matter anymore.
What mattered was that she had already recognized her feelings.
She wanted to be with him. She wanted him as her lover. She wanted to one day walk with him down the aisle.
So… touching the body of my future lover… that's not wrong.
Right. Not wrong at all.
With that flimsy justification, Stella pressed on.
"Haa… haa…"
This unfamiliar sensation had her on the edge of ecstasy.
Her head felt feverish, her thoughts muddled and dizzy.
Like an addict craving more, she realized she couldn't stop herself anymore.
"Haa…"
Her soft fingertips traced across the ridges of his abs.
Through the warmth of his skin, she could feel the sheer effort, the countless hours of training that had forged this body.
"…Maybe… maybe that's why he's so strong. He never stops improving, even with such talent…"
The words slipped from her lips without thinking.
And the moment she said it, her motions stilled.
"…So that's it…"
Finally, she understood why she had fallen so deeply for him.
Yes, she was curious about many things—his strength, his cooking, his trust.
But what had truly captured her heart was the fact that, just like her, he bore the weight of overwhelming talent… and the burden that came with it.
The fiery desire that had been rising so fiercely now receded just as quickly.
Her lost rationality returned.
"…I should wash my face. Cool down a little."
Carefully, she slipped off his bed and put on her shoes, then hurried out toward the bathroom.
And at that moment—the boy she believed to be asleep opened his eyes.
"…So it really is her dragon nature… being influenced by the beast within?"
Makoto's gaze was complicated.
Truth was, he hadn't slept at all last night—he had been feigning sleep the whole time.
After all, who could possibly sleep soundly with someone tossing restlessly above you, then running their hands all over your body?
He had been debating how to stop it.
The stimulation was almost unbearable—especially for someone still a virgin.
He had already "stood at attention," and if this went on any longer, he feared he'd lose control, turn into a beast under the moon, and devour this mischievous little dragon.
"…But how should I respond to her…"
…
There was no doubt—Stella was a good girl.
Even though they had only known each other for a few days, Makoto was sure of it.
And that was exactly why he felt so torn.
If it weren't for Misaki waiting for him in his original world, it wouldn't be such a bad thing to accept Stella's feelings.
But… knowing that, could he really allow himself to?
The right thing would be to make it clear as soon as possible—to cut things off before Stella fell too deeply and hurt even more.
But… he didn't want to.
Yes—he realized it. He couldn't let go.
In just three days, they had shared everything—morning training, classes, dinner, even the same bed at night.
He'd had countless chances to tell her. To say he already had someone waiting for him.
But every time, the words reached his lips… and he swallowed them back.
Because deep down, he didn't want to lose this girl.
And when he felt that hesitation for the second time… he knew it. He had begun to like her, even if just a little.
Bang, bang, bang—!
He fired mana bullets, slashing with his blade in a crescent arc.
Could it be… am I actually just a scumbag at heart?
The dreadful thought crept into his mind. He shook his head violently, as if to fling it away.
No—that's impossible! I can't be a scumbag!
Clang, clang, clang—!
The bullets collided with sharp metallic sounds.
Screeech—!
Sparks rained down as Makoto's crescent slash was effortlessly caught between the ribs of an iron fan—held by a young girl.
She wore a kimono, her black hair tied up, a fiery haori draped over her shoulders. A petite figure, but with one hand she pinned his blade with ease.
"—Binding Formation!"
Her clear voice rang out.
In an instant, crushing gravity fell upon Makoto. His body grew impossibly heavy, his organs compressed, his blood circulation disrupted.
Even breathing was difficult. His legs trembled violently as though they would buckle beneath him.
"…Hmph. You've improved. To think you can already withstand forty times gravity. But daring to space out during combat training—what were you thinking?"
Her voice was cute, almost scholarly—but sharp with displeasure.
"What is it? Do you think you're ready to graduate already?"
"…No. My gun-body style is still far from complete. I was just… thinking about something else."
Eyes wide with strain, Makoto pushed with all his strength against the crushing force, shaking his head.
There was no better training than this.
And Nene Saikyo—the girl before him—could make it possible, since her ability was the manipulation of gravity itself.
For days now, all his training had been under these conditions, the gravity increasing every few days.
From twenty times at the start, he had now adapted enough to move under forty times the force.
And the "gun-body style" he spoke of—a hybrid of gun and sword combat he was developing for close-range battles.
"…What problem were you thinking about?"
The kimono girl pressed harder, doubling the gravity with a flick of her fan, glaring at him.
"…Sensei, you always act so carefree… I'm guessing you must have plenty of experience, right?"
Crushed by the added weight, Makoto still lifted his head, deciding to use this chance to seek her advice.
"Of course. I love pretty boys, after all."
Nene said it with absolute confidence, face utterly calm.
"…Then let me ask you something. I mean, uh… it's for a friend of mine."
"Go ahead. You've still got plenty of gravity training left."
While Makoto strained under the pressure, she strolled casually to a bench, as if unaffected.
"Well… this friend of mine… there are two girls who like him. And he also kind of likes them both. But now he doesn't know which one to choose. What should he do? …Sensei, if it were you, what would you do?"
"That's it? Just that?"
She tilted her head, then suddenly burst out laughing. "Hah! Kids really are kids. Always fussing over who to pick. Adults never choose—we take them all! If I set my eyes on a pretty boy, I'll have him no matter what. Whatever I want… is mine."
"..."
"…Wait a sec."
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously as she marched back toward him, her expression fierce.
"That 'friend' you mentioned—isn't it actually you? You've been awfully popular lately, haven't you? Two girls at once? Don't forget, you're the one I alrea—"
Bzzz—!
A buzz came from Makoto's pocket—the sound of a message arriving on his student handbook.
"I alrea—"
"Sensei, could you check that for me? It's probably my match assignment. My hands are kind of tied up here."
Her anger dissipated instantly.
Reaching into his pocket, she fished out the handbook—though not without groping a little in the process.
"…Not bad. You'll be fine this time."
She pulled out the device and held it up for him to see.
"Haramura Makoto—your first opponent in the selection battles is Year 2, Class 2… Tomaru Renren."