Chapter 300: A Little Rub…
Though it was called a storage room, it was surprisingly neat. The air smelled faintly of chalk and old wood, and sunlight from the small window painted golden lines over stacked boxes and shelves. There wasn't much dust, only the quiet scent of disuse.
As the class representative, Machiko often came here to fetch materials for teachers, so it wasn't unusual that she had a key. But today, her heart beat faster than usual. Her palms were slightly sweaty, and she kept checking her phone as if to reassure herself that she hadn't made a mistake asking Kouya to come.
It didn't take long before the door creaked open and Kouya stepped inside.
"Good morning, Kouya-kun!" she greeted quickly, her voice a little higher than normal.
Her tone trembled despite her effort to sound calm. After all, being alone with him made her nerves coil tight. She wasn't as scared of him as before, but his quiet presence still had a way of unsettling her.
Kouya blinked, his expression unreadable. "Morning."
The air between them hung heavy for a moment. Machiko pressed her lips together, fidgeting slightly before holding out several folded bills with both hands, her fingers trembling faintly.
"Um… this is for… the clothes we bought that day," she murmured, her face burning. She couldn't say the word "underwear" if her life depended on it.
Kouya glanced at the money briefly before taking it. "Alright," he said simply, then turned toward the door as if that was that.
Machiko exhaled softly. "Phew…" Relief flooded her. The thing that had haunted her all weekend—solved in under a minute. Maybe Kouya was a good person after all… kind of.
But before she could finish that thought, footsteps echoed in the hallway outside. Two voices followed, growing closer.
She froze.
"Oh no!" she whispered, eyes widening. "Someone's coming!"
The footsteps stopped right outside the door. From the sounds of it, the girls were chatting about picking up teaching materials. Her heart dropped.
If they walked in now and saw her with Kouya—alone in the storage room—the rumor mill would explode. And school gossip had no mercy.
Her pulse quickened. Panic set in. If she were thinking clearly, she could've simply smiled, said she was getting supplies, and left. But her guilt and nervous imagination made everything worse.
Kouya started reaching for the doorknob, but she panicked. "No! Wait! We can't go out now!"
He turned, giving her a dry, questioning look.
'What's the point of hiding? You planning to evolve into a hermit crab in here?'
"We need to hide! Quick!" she hissed urgently.
Her gaze darted around the room and landed on a dusty old storage cabinet in the corner. Before Kouya could protest, she grabbed his wrist and pulled him toward it.
The cabinet was cramped and smelled faintly of old paper. Kouya barely managed to squeeze inside with her before she shut the door behind them.
He frowned, whispering, "Why are we hiding?"
"B-because if someone sees us, they'll misunderstand!" she whispered back frantically.
Kouya's reply was flat. "And if they ask, we say we were getting something. What's the problem?"
Machiko's throat tightened. She couldn't answer. The silence that followed was unbearable. The cabinet felt even smaller now.
She lowered her head. 'What am I doing?' she thought miserably.
She wanted to push the door open and end this farce—but Kouya's hand stopped her, resting firmly on her shoulder.
"Don't move. Not yet."
Her breath hitched. She turned her head slightly, meeting his calm gaze in the dim light filtering through the cabinet slats. The close distance between them made her dizzy.
He spoke quietly, his voice brushing against her ear. "If we walk out of here right after hiding, no one's going to believe your excuse."
Machiko's face paled. He was right.
Then, outside—the storage room door opened with a creak.
Two girls entered.
"Weird, it's not locked," one said.
"Probably another class came earlier," said the other. "It's just teaching junk anyway. No one would steal this stuff."
Their footsteps and the sound of rummaging filled the room.
Inside the cabinet, Machiko held her breath. Every heartbeat sounded deafening.
It was hot. The air grew thick, humid. Sweat beaded along her neck and back, soaking through the fabric of her blouse. She could feel Kouya's warmth beside her—steady and calm, in contrast to her own trembling.
The space was so small their arms brushed when they breathed. Any slight movement risked giving them away.
And then it happened.
An itch.
It started near her thigh, faint at first—but it grew. That sharp, unbearable sensation that teased her nerves and made every muscle twitch.
She clenched her fists. 'Not now. Please not now.'
Her lips pressed tight to suppress a groan. The itch intensified, spreading like fire. She needed to move—to scratch—but there was no room.
Her breathing grew shallow. The longer she endured, the worse it became.
Her heartbeat thundered. Her mind screamed.
Finally, she couldn't hold it back anymore. She shifted slightly, just enough to rub her leg against something—anything.
Her thigh brushed against Kouya's leg.
The warmth startled her. It was solid, real—too real. A wave of shame rushed up her spine. But the itch eased slightly, and that was enough.
Her face burned crimson. She hesitated, then moved again, a small, trembling rub.
Kouya: "..."
'Are you kidding me? Are you a wild boar trying to scratch your back on a tree?'
He sighed through his nose, his patience thinning. The cabinet was dark, but his sharp eyes could still make out her expression—flushed cheeks, damp hair clinging to her skin, eyes shimmering with a mix of panic and something else she didn't even recognize.
She looked mortified… and yet oddly relieved.
Kouya frowned. 'What is she even doing?' Whatever it was, it looked bad. Really bad.
He exhaled quietly, then reached out a hand.
His palm landed lightly on her waist.
Machiko froze like a statue. Her whole body stiffened at the contact.
The warmth of his hand spread through her like a jolt of electricity. Her breath caught, and an involuntary sound escaped her throat—a soft, stifled whimper quickly muffled by her own hand covering her mouth.
Her mind blanked. She could feel every heartbeat, every drop of sweat, every molecule of air between them.
Her imagination spiraled wildly, flashes of scenes from that one indecent manga she had secretly read—two people trapped in a gym storage room, things escalating beyond control.
Her eyes widened in panic. 'N-no way… is Kouya-kun going to—?!'
'Why did this happen?! I just wanted to return the underwear money!'
Her heart pounded louder than the voices outside.
'This is bad. So, so bad…' she thought frantically, her face redder than ever.
The air felt like it might burst from the heat and tension as the seconds dragged on endlessly…
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