The lecture hall buzzed with the low hum from students, laptops and the soft tap of pens against notebooks.
There, Shen Yuo sat in his usual spot—third row, by the window. His gaze drifted between the lecture slides on the screen and the woman at the front of the room. Miss Yue Hatake, the new substitute lecturer for the day.
Yue Hatake---how could anyone forget such heavenly name. One of the finest female lecturer in an all boys' academy. Infact, she was the 001, a kind of beauty that was both striking and effortless built, with a serene yet confident aura.
Today, she was explaining the complexities of cloud computing—one of the topics Shen found fascinating—but his mind had already wandered far from the subject. His mind was only on her.
Shen's pen tapped rhythmically against his notebook, not in sync with the lecture, but instead sketching the curves of Miss Hatake's figure.
He was a techie at heart, but his passion for art often led him to get lost in the details of life, and right now, the details of Miss Hatake were all that mattered.
From the soft, elegant slope of her jaw to the way her form-fitting skirt clung to her shapely legs, every curve was captured in his notebook. Then he paused, his eyes glancing outside the window.
For a moment, he began to wonder what could have driven Miss Hatake's husband to divorce such a sexy, beautiful woman. She was once on the runway, seven years ago as a model for Inkstar and then completed her professor degree at the age of twenty two, married at the age of twenty three.
He'd heard the rumors—whispers in the hallway about how her ex-husband had cheated, claiming she was "too focused" on her career. Ridiculous. If anything, Shen thought, she was the kind of woman a man should worship.
A small, almost smug smile crept onto his lips as he added a final stroke to her lips in his sketch—full, tempting, always glossed like she was ready to be kissed. His imagination took over.
'Imagine how it would feel to walk up to her after class, casually suggesting they go out for a coffee or dinner.' He smiled sheepishly, adding tone to his sketch and then he laughed a bit.
Who would want to go out with a virgin anyway? A person who knew little to nothing about sex?
His heart raced just at the thought of asking her out, though he knew it was probably a far-fetched dream. What would she say? Would she laugh in his face? Or perhaps—just perhaps—she would say yes.
His thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the sound of the bell ringing, signaling the end of class. He snapped his book shut, quickly glancing up to see Miss Hatake gathering her papers, preparing to leave. The students began to stir, packing up their things and murmuring as they stood.
"Let's not forget our end of semester project. The best project gets to be auctioned to big men in the Tech industry, one of which I know, Mr. Suzuki."
As Miss Hatake reached for her tote bag, her marker had slipped from her desk, falling onto the ground. Without hesitation, she crouched to pick it up, and for the briefest moment, the soft V of her blouse gave way—revealing a teasing glimpse of cleavage that made Shen's throat dry.
He blinked, averting his gaze instinctively—but too late. The image was burned into his mind, as vivid as any sketch he'd ever drawn.
"Focus," he muttered under his breath, his heart thudding.
But focus was impossible when she stood again, straightened her skirt with a graceful tug, and flashed a gentle smile in the general direction of the class. Her voice rang out once more, calm and cool.
"I look forward to seeing what you all create," she said. "Innovation is nothing without imagination. Use both." The class went silent and still until she left the classroom and that is when, all the male students burst into chuckles.
"Did you see those titties of Miss Hatake? I bet her husband is regretting divorcing her." Liting a cigarette on, a boy dressed in red and black stripped sweater commented. He went by the name Tenjo Kushina—loudmouthed, cocky, and always the first to say something inappropriate. The son of a politician father and top tier business mother, Tenjo was used to getting away with things most students couldn't.
"Bro, I swear," he went on, exhaling a puff of smoke from the side of his mouth, "I'd let her ruin my life. Ten times over."
The others snickered, some nodding in agreement, others trying to act indifferent but failing. Their eyes had all seen the same thing and couldn't deny they hadn't felt hard just by looking at her huge titties.
Shen ignored them, rolling his eyes and picked up his notebook from the desk. Tenjo was his roommates and there was nothing he'd say that would surprise him. Shen tried to block out Tenjo's words, feeling a flush creeping up his neck. He was used to Tenjo's brash comments—hell, it was pretty much a staple of his personality—but it didn't make it any easier to ignore. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks as he glanced around at the other students who were all too eager to join in on Tenjo's crude commentary.
"Man, you know she'd tear us apart in bed, right?" another voice added from the back, a taller guy named Sarutobi, his deep chuckle making the whole group break into laughter.
"Five hundred dollars and I bet j can sound like her when she moans in bed." Another jest was made but this time by a taller dude, Gojo Satoku from the last bench of the class. He rolled sideways on the steel rail down to the front of the class.
Unbuttoning his shirt, he laid on the table, his legs raised up to his head. Toru Fujimina from the front row came forward, grabbing Gojo's ass from behind.
Gojo burst into moans, clinging to the side of the table as he spread his ass wider depicting a woman receiving an anal. The whole class laughed about it but Shen stayed behind, his mind drifting to the stellar project Miss Hatake had said before her departure.
If she was all truth, that meant he could earn big cash if he put his meg tech ideas to the big meat in the industry. To tone down the noise and moaning sound from everyone, he clasped to his ears his headphones, taking his notebook out of the lecture theatre
Shen was deep in his thoughts as he walked through the hallway, trying to shake off the lingering distractions from class. His hand was almost reaching for his phone in his pocket when it buzzed. He pulled it out, glancing at the caller ID. It was his boss, Sarada Hatake—no relation to Miss Yue Hatake, but just as no-nonsense.
He answered the call, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "Hello?"
"Shen!" Emi's voice was sharp, laced with irritation. "Where the hell have you been? You were supposed to be at the bakery hours ago! We're down one person today, and I've been stuck handling everything myself. If you don't get back here soon, don't expect to get paid like normal. Understand?"
Shen winced, his eyes darting around the empty hallway. I totally lost track of time.
"Sorry, Sarada, I— I got caught up with class stuff. I'll be there in fifteen, okay?" he said, trying to sound as calm as possible.
"Fifteen? More like ten if you want to avoid a salary deduction. Don't make me repeat myself, Shen. You better move it." There was a click as the line went dead and a sigh resounding later.
Another deduction? And I could kiss my ass hard work in getting Steam Vortex X-pro Pad goodbye.
"Ugh!"