December 30. Late afternoon.
Takumi leaned against the corridor wall outside the student council room, hands in his pockets, watching the flow of students heading back to the dorms after the last class of the year.
His body still carried the pleasant ache of the previous night, Kamuro's nails on his back, the way she'd softened in the end, the matching hickeys they'd left on each other.
It had been satisfying, intense… and it had crystallized something in his mind.
He wanted another teacher.
The thought had hit him in the quiet aftermath, while Kamuro dozed against his chest. The memory of Midnight, her confidence, her experience, the way she'd taken control and then surrendered it, still lingered like a drug. Here, in this world, the only real options were Chabashira Sae, their homeroom teacher with her sharp tongue and guarded eyes, or Hoshinomiya Chie from Class B, the bubbly, flirtatious one who always seemed a little too friendly.
Both were tempting. Both felt… complicated. Especially Sae. She was too perceptive, too cynical, one wrong move and she'd shut him down or worse. He didn't have an angle yet. Not a clean one.
So, for now, he'd pivot to someone else. Someone whose weakness he already understood.
His gaze settled on Karuizawa Kei as she rounded the corner, blonde hair swaying, designer bag slung over one shoulder. She was laughing at something, but then, Kei's expression shifted, still bright on the surface, but her eyes scanned the hallway like she was always waiting for a threat.
Perfect.
Takumi pushed off the wall and followed at a casual distance, keeping just far enough back that she wouldn't notice until he wanted her to. When she veered toward the stairwell that led to the roof, an old habit of hers when she needed space, he smiled to himself.
The plan was already formed.
The rooftop door creaked open under her hand, cold winter air rushing in. Kei stepped out, pulling her coat tighter, and Takumi slipped through right behind her before it closed. The click of the latch made her spin around.
She recognized him immediately. Her chin lifted, eyes narrowing into the practiced rude glare she wore like armour.
"What the hell do you want, Hayase?" she snapped, voice sharp and impatient. "If you're here to waste my time, turn around and leave."
Takumi didn't answer right away. He just looked at her, calm, unhurried, until the silence stretched long enough to unsettle her. Then he spoke, low and even.
"I know about your past, Karuizawa."The colour drained from her face in an instant. The haughty mask cracked, her lips parted, but no sound came out. For a second she looked almost fragile, the real girl beneath the gyaru facade peeking through, scared, cornered.
"H-how…?" she finally managed, voice barely above a whisper.
Takumi shrugged, as if it were nothing. "I went to a middle school in the same district. Word travels fast in those circles. Bullying scandals like yours… people still talk."
It was a complete lie, of course. He'd learned everything from watching the show. But the details didn't matter, the fear in her eyes told him he'd hit the mark perfectly.
Kei's hands clenched at her sides. "You're lying. No one here knows..."
"Oh, but someone does," he interrupted smoothly, stepping closer. "There's actually another person in our year who went to my old school. They know everything too."
She gasped, a sharp, panicked sound. "Who?"
Takumi smiled, small, knowing, cruel in its gentleness. "I'll tell you later," he said. "Come to my dorm tonight. Room 412. We'll talk."
He turned and walked back toward the door without waiting for a reply, leaving her standing alone on the windswept roof, the city lights beginning to flicker on in the distance below. The latch clicked shut behind him.
___
The dorm room door clicked shut behind Karuizawa Kei, the sound echoing softly in the quiet space. It was December 30, evening now, the winter sun long set, leaving the room bathed in the warm glow of a single desk lamp.
Takumi had been waiting, lounging on the edge of his bed, phone in hand but mind elsewhere. Kei hesitated just inside the threshold, her blonde hair slightly tousled from the wind outside, her school uniform still impeccable but her posture tense.
She didn't sit right away, instead, she lowered herself to the floor, back against the wall, knees drawn up as if to put some distance between them.
The air was thick with unspoken questions. She fiddled with the hem of her skirt for a moment, then looked up at him, her eyes sharp but laced with fear. "Okay, I'm here. Who is it? Who else knows about... my past?"
Takumi met her gaze steadily, but he didn't answer. Instead, he tilted his head, his expression softening just enough to disarm her. "Show me your scar."
Kei's eyes widened, shock rippling across her face like a wave. Her hands instinctively went to her midsection, clutching at the fabric of her shirt. "What? How do you...?"
"Show me," he repeated, his voice calm, almost gentle. He pointed deliberately to her stomach, his finger tracing an invisible line in the air. "Right there. I know it's on your side, near your ribs."
She stared at him, mouth agape, colour draining from her cheeks again. The rude, confident gyaru facade cracked further, revealing the vulnerable girl beneath, the one who'd built walls of popularity and fake smiles to hide her traumas.
"You... you really know everything," she whispered, voice trembling. Surprise mingled with a flicker of something else, relief, maybe, that someone saw through her without judgment.
Takumi leaned forward slightly, his tone reassuring. "I'm not here to hurt you, Kei. I just want to see it. Let me."
She hesitated, biting her lip, eyes darting to the door as if considering bolting. But something in his steady gaze held her. Slowly, she stood up, her legs a little unsteady. Her fingers gripped the bottom of her shirt, lifting it inch by inch, revealing smooth, pale skin, then the faint, jagged line of the scar.
It was about four inches long, puckered and slightly raised, a silvery remnant of a knife or broken glass from her middle-school tormentors. It marred her otherwise flawless abdomen, a stark reminder of her pain.
Takumi's eyes locked on it, not with pity, but with a quiet understanding. He reached out slowly, giving her time to pull away if she wanted. When she didn't, his fingertips brushed the scar, light, almost reverent, tracing its length. The skin was cooler there, textured differently from the rest of her. Kei shivered at the touch, a soft gasp escaping her lips, but she didn't flinch. Before she could react further, Takumi's hand slid to her waist, pulling her gently but firmly toward him.
She stumbled forward, landing in his lap, straddling his thighs on the bed, her skirt riding up slightly. "Takumi!" she gasped, hands flying to his shoulders for balance, her face inches from his. The proximity was electric, she could feel the heat of his body through their clothes, the subtle hardness beginning to stir beneath her.
He held her steady, one arm around her waist, the other still resting near the scar. "There's actually no one else in the school who knows about your past," he admitted, voice low and confessional. "I made that up to get you here. But I'll keep your secret. All of it."
Kei's eyes widened, then a sound escaped her—almost a squeal, a mix of relief and indignation. "You... what? You lied? But... what about Hirata? He..."
Takumi shook his head, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on her hip. "I won't tell him. Especially not about what we're about to do."
Her breath caught, cheeks flushing a deep pink. She shifted in his lap, feeling the growing bulge press against her core through the thin barriers of fabric. "And Hasebe? We're friends, Takumi. If she finds out..."
"Won't tell her either," he promised, his free hand cupping her cheek, drawing her closer. "This is just between us."
The reassurance seemed to unlock something in her. Kei's arms wrapped around his neck slowly, embracing him as her body relaxed into his. She pressed closer, her hips grinding tentatively against him, slow, experimental rolls that sent sparks through both of them.
The friction built heat, her panties dampening as she felt his ten-inch length harden fully beneath her.
Their lips met then, hesitant at first, her kiss soft and exploratory, tasting of strawberry lip gloss. But it deepened quickly, tongues tangling as she poured her relief and budding desire into it.
Her hands roamed down his back, then tugged at the hem of his shirt. She broke the kiss just long enough to pull it over his head, revealing his toned chest, the faint scars from past worlds, the fresh hickeys from Kushida and Kamuro that she didn't question yet.
Emboldened, Kei reached for her own shirt, peeling it off in one fluid motion. Her bra followed, unclasped and discarded, baring her body to him. She was stunning, perky breasts with rosy nipples hardening in the cool air, slim waist curving into hips that spoke of her gyaru confidence.
The scar was visible now in full, but it didn't detract, if anything, it added to her raw beauty, a mark of survival. Her skin was flawless otherwise, lightly tanned from summer, with a faint freckle here and there.
Takumi's eyes drank her in, hands exploring, cupping her breasts, thumbs circling her nipples until she arched and moaned softly. "Beautiful," he murmured, pulling her in for another kiss. His mouth trailed down her neck, nipping at her collarbone, then lower to lavish attention on her breasts.
He took one nipple between his lips, sucking gently then harder, his tongue flicking the sensitive peak while his hand kneaded the other. Kei whimpered, her grinding intensifying, hips rocking with more purpose against his clothed erection.
The foreplay built slowly, sensually. Takumi's hands slid under her skirt, fingers hooking into her panties and easing them down her thighs. She lifted her hips to help, kicking them off along with her skirt, leaving her completely bare in his lap.
Her arousal was evident, slick folds glistening, clit swollen and begging for touch. He obliged, one finger tracing her entrance, dipping in shallowly to feel her wetness. "So ready," he growled, adding a second finger, curling them to hit her sweet spot.
Kei gasped, head falling back as pleasure rippled through her. "Takumi..." She fumbled with his pants, unzipping them and freeing his cock, ten inches of thick, veined hardness springing out, the head already beaded with precum.
Her eyes widened slightly at the size, a mix of awe and nervousness flashing across her face. She'd had experience, Hirata, perhaps others, but nothing like this.
He lifted her slightly, positioning the tip at her entrance. "We'll go slow," he assured, echoing words he'd used before. She nodded, biting her lip, and lowered herself tentatively. The head breached her, stretching her tight walls inch by inch.
It was a delicious burn, painful at first from his girth, but pleasure followed as her body adjusted, slickness easing the way. She sank down slowly, gasping with each increment, her hands gripping his shoulders tightly.
Halfway in, she paused, breathing heavily, but Takumi's hands on her hips guided her, rubbing her clit to heighten the sensation. "You can take it all," he whispered, voice husky.
Encouraged, Kei rocked her hips, working him deeper, six inches, seven, eight. Her walls clenched around him, pulsing with need. With a final, determined push, she took him fully, bottoming out, his full length buried inside her, filling her completely.
The sensation was overwhelming, she felt stretched to her limits, every nerve alight, the pressure against her deepest spots making her tremble.
"Oh god... so big," she moaned, staying still for a moment to adjust, her inner muscles fluttering around him. Takumi groaned, the tight heat enveloping him like a vice. They began to move, slow at first, her rising and falling in his lap, building a rhythm. Each descent took him all in again, the slap of skin growing louder as she picked up speed.
Pleasure built in waves; she ground her clit against his pelvis with each thrust, sparks shooting through her core.
Takumi's hands roamed, squeezing her ass, pulling her down harder, then up to her breasts, pinching her nipples. He thrust up to meet her, the bed creaking under them. Sweat beaded on their skin, her blonde hair sticking to her forehead as she rode him with increasing abandon.
"Feels... amazing," she panted, nails digging into his back, leaving red marks alongside the others.
The pace quickened, frantic now, her moans escalating, body bouncing as she took every inch repeatedly.
He slipped a hand between them, rubbing her clit in tight circles, pushing her toward the edge. Kei shattered first, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave, walls clamping down on his cock in rhythmic spasms, a high-pitched cry escaping as ecstasy flooded her senses. Her body convulsed, juices coating him as she rode through it.
The tight pulses milked him, and Takumi followed soon after, thrusting deep one last time, spilling inside her with a deep groan, hot ropes filling her as his hips jerked. They clung together, breathless and spent, her head resting on his shoulder as aftershocks trembled through them.
For long moments, they stayed like that, entwined, her secret safe, a new bond forged in vulnerability and pleasure.