Aizono Momo felt a sudden heat bloom in her nose, followed by a trickle of blood.
The combined effects of sustained embarrassment and unchecked, vivid fantasies had overwhelmed the delicate blood vessels in her nasal cavity, bursting them under the strain.
So nosebleeds from excitement are real, huh… I thought it was just an exaggeration in manga…
Ugh…
Though the first two drops escaped before she could react, she quickly tilted her head back and tried to pinch her nose shut.
Unfortunately, tipping her head back was precisely the wrong thing to do, causing blood to flow back into her nasal cavity and triggering a dull, choking ache. She immediately coughed, spluttering involuntarily.
"Cough—!"
This cough was disastrous for Kuroba Akira. Although Momo managed to block most of it with her palm, droplets still sprayed through her fingers—and landed squarely on Akira's face.
Seeing Akira's face now spattered with blood, his expression despairing, Momo panicked further. Trying to leap away, she immediately slipped again and nearly slammed her head backward onto the stall wall.
Only Akira's swift hand, steadying her waist, prevented yet another disaster.
But now their position had become even more ambiguous, looking exactly like two students secretly rendezvousing inside a toilet stall.
Akira had no interest in playing romantic games, though. After cleaning up Momo's messes repeatedly, his patience was fraying.
This endless loop of disasters… needs to end now!
His brow furrowed as he discarded all politeness, his voice turning sharp and commanding.
"Calm down already. Stop panicking or you'll choke again—I really don't want another spray to the face."
"Ah… Yes… Mm!"
Before she could apologize or attempt another clumsy cleanup, Akira forcefully moved aside the hand covering her mouth and pressed firmly on her nose bridge himself.
With his free hand, he tore off some toilet paper and roughly wiped away the blood around her mouth.
"I've figured it out now. Every time you panic, you inevitably screw things up."
"Ah… I'm sorry…"
What's wrong with me today?
Momo knew she was naturally clumsy and often troubled others, but today's mistakes had been especially catastrophic.
A strange, stubborn emotion was coiled tightly in her chest, refusing to dissipate. She couldn't define it, but she knew it had appeared ever since she confessed her color weakness to Akira.
"Instead of apologizing, I'd much rather you remember today's mistakes clearly. Next time, don't lose your head again."
Akira lectured coldly.
"Yes… understood…"
"Here, pinch where my fingers are holding. Don't do anything else. Just stay still and behave yourself."
"Y-yes!"
An order!
Thank goodness!
Far from resenting his tone, Momo felt a deep sense of relief.
Now I don't need to think at all. I just need to obey Kuroba-kun's commands…
Then I won't have to worry about making mistakes…
As if she'd received divine revelation, Momo immediately shifted into obedience mode, following Akira's instructions and pinching her nose firmly.
With both hands free, Akira tore fresh toilet paper into two rough plugs and shoved them directly into her nostrils, ignoring subtlety entirely.
"Ngh—!"
Then he folded several layers of tissue and brought them close to her mouth.
"Now spit out all that bloody mucus in your throat."
"Mm… pff…"
Cute, sure—but not good enough.
"No, that's wrong. Do it like you're clearing your throat, like 'he—tui!' Try again, and properly this time."
"Oh… Okay… H-he… Ack! Cough! Cough!"
Of course, attempting something she wasn't used to, Momo coughed violently again—but Akira was ready this time, expertly catching the mess with the tissues.
Seeing the resulting bloody phlegm, Akira nodded approvingly.
"Good. Until your nosebleed stops, breathe through your mouth. Got it?"
"Yes… Got it…"
"You can't wear your indoor shoes either, right? Put mine on for now. It doesn't matter if my socks get dirty, but if I let you walk barefoot, you'll definitely slip again. Don't argue or refuse."
Akira had fully grasped Momo's nature by now—he couldn't allow her any autonomy. It was far simpler to just give orders and have her follow obediently.
Indeed, Momo strongly preferred these clear-cut instructions. If all she had to do was obey, she could avoid mistakes.
"Yes… Ma—K-Kuroba-kun."
She nearly called him "Master" but thankfully caught herself mid-word, quickly adjusting it to "Kuroba-kun."
But what had earlier been mere fantasy now held an alarming sense of reality.
Because only a master gives orders to a servant, right?
After she slipped into Akira's indoor shoes, Akira directed her to stand up and check outside for people.
Once certain the coast was clear, Akira swiftly ducked out of the girls' restroom.
Momo followed timidly behind him, clutching the soggy bundle of her ruined clothes. Her eyes were still red and watery, reminding Akira vividly of the "crying-cat" emoji—a picture-perfect representation of "small, pitiful, and helpless."
Yet that vulnerable, pathetic expression made her irresistibly adorable. A perfect bullied heroine—born to be teased and protected.
It was almost surprising she hadn't been bullied already; clearly, Shiori had shielded her far too well.
Ironically, this time Momo had ended up in such a mess entirely on her own—without any deliberate teasing or bullying. In a fanservice manga, she'd definitely earn the heroine role for this kind of scenario.
Akira just hoped today's incidents wouldn't derail their coloring work later.
But realistically, there was no chance of more progress today. Moreover, he clearly couldn't handle this alone anymore—they'd need reinforcements.
"Let's head back to the Literature Club room. We'll call it quits for today. Shiori can take you home afterward."
But facing her close friend now only intensified Momo's embarrassment.
"Um… K-Kuroba-kun, can we… not go back? I can't face Shiori like this…"
Voluntarily confessing she'd wet herself to her best friend would be akin to detonating a bomb of dark history—a cruel punishment for someone like Momo.
"No way. Look at yourself—how can you get home alone in your state? Don't tell me you expect me to walk you home instead?"
"Uu…"
Momo lowered her head, knowing better than to protest further.
"But don't worry. I'll make up an excuse for you—something like the faucet suddenly bursting, soaking you completely. You don't need to say anything; just go along with whatever story I tell. Got it? I'll do my best to preserve your dignity."
"Ah… Yes!"
Kuroba-kun… Master truly is merciful!
Now Momo felt even more willing to obey him, convinced wholeheartedly that his word was "absolute truth."
Calling him "Master" internally and obeying every command externally…
With that, Aizono Momo completed her self-enslavement on a subconscious level.
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