Thursday. Hugging. Cuddling.
Friday. Hugging. Cuddling.
Saturday. Sitting in his lap, ranting about her classmates.
…Sunday. Dorm room. Kushida Kikyo's room.
"…He really didn't do anything?"
Only now did Kushida fully process it.
The day she fell asleep had genuinely startled her. She'd dozed off without realizing it.
Maybe it was the drastic shift in body temperature. The moment her mind relaxed, she'd passed out in the blink of an eye.
When she woke up, fear had gripped her—had something happened while she was asleep?
But after leaving and replaying the recording she'd secretly carried with her, she'd finally relaxed.
The audio clearly captured their steady breathing.
No rustling of clothes.
No suspicious sounds.
Just quiet, peaceful breathing—as if the recorder had captured something almost unbelievable.
Even replaying that calm recording now, she could still feel the serenity returning to her heart.
"…So weird…"
Squatting on her chair with her head tucked down, Kushida muttered awkwardly.
The more she recalled it, the stranger it felt.
She admitted it—hugging was intoxicating.
The warmth transmitted through skin contact was undeniably stirring.
But why hadn't he made a move?
…Not that she wanted Asakusa to grope her.
But for him to truly do absolutely nothing—it felt almost insulting.
She considered herself fairly cute.
Judging by the endless stream of boys who messaged and pestered her, she clearly had considerable charm.
Yet Asakusa had done nothing.
Was he impotent or something?
But if he were, he wouldn't have been so skilled on the rooftop.
And during their close contact over the past few days, she'd had more than enough opportunity to roughly estimate his size.
That was definitely not the size of someone impotent.
So… he really just wasn't interested in her?
Impossible.
There had to be some scheme.
Something brewing behind the scenes.
She just couldn't figure out what.
The only thing she knew for certain was that, at least until his true objective surfaced, she didn't need to worry about him exposing her secrets.
Which meant she could safely enjoy the feeling of skin against skin…
—No, no, no.
She shook her head vigorously.
It wasn't some aphrodisiac. It was just normal hormonal reactions from physical contact. Anyone would do.
Yes—even hugging Horikita Suzune would work!
With that thought, Kushida abruptly stood up.
Shoes on. Door open. Door shut. Elevator button pressed. Elevator arrived. Fast steps. Ding ding ding—she hammered the doorbell.
All in one fluid motion.
"Ding-dong ding-dong ding-dong—"
The irritating chime echoed inside.
Soon, the door opened.
There stood a black-haired girl with messy hair and faint steam still rising from her body, clearly fresh out of the shower.
Horikita Suzune stared at her, utterly baffled.
"…Are you sick?"
Kushida didn't answer.
As if it were her own dorm, she walked straight inside, shut the door behind her, and approached Horikita without even taking off her shoes.
"Don't move."
And then she suddenly hugged her.
The warmth of just having bathed. Damp hair. Clear, audible heartbeat. A breath that stopped mid-inhale. The thick scent of shampoo radiated from Horikita's body.
Horikita froze.
She was stunned.
Kushida had barged in just to hug her once?
What was this woman trying to do?
Meaningless. Incomprehensible.
Just as Horikita was about to push her away, Kushida released her on her own.
The tight hug had lasted only a few seconds.
"…Not right."
Her expression darkened as she muttered those two words.
Horikita stared at her like she'd lost her mind.
"What exactly are you doing? Ringing my doorbell like that and suddenly hugging me? What's wrong with you?"
Had stress from class finally broken her?
Ever since the Chabashira incident, Class D had been in shambles.
Even Hirata Yosuke couldn't easily rally everyone anymore.
Chabashira herself had recovered quickly and returned to class after a few days in the infirmary. She refused to talk about what happened, and the students were too afraid to ask.
An oppressive gloom hung over the class.
And the one absorbing the brunt of the negativity—obviously—was the ever-friendly Kushida Kikyo.
Complaints.
Dissatisfaction.
Anxiety.
Fear.
Disgust.
Frustration.
All of it funneled straight into her.
No one cared whether she was under pressure.
No one considered whether they were treating her like an emotional dumping ground.
As long as they poured enough of their garbage onto sweet little Kushida, they felt better.
…But that still didn't explain why she'd suddenly run over to hug Horikita.
"Nothing."
Despite Horikita's confusion, Kushida offered no explanation.
She shook her head and turned.
"I'm leaving."
"Hey—"
Click.
The door opened and closed again.
Horikita stood there, staring at the empty space.
…What did she even come here for?
"…Completely wrong."
Leaning against the closed door outside, Kushida didn't immediately return to her own room.
She replayed the sensation in her mind.
The temperature wasn't the issue. If anything, Horikita—fresh from the shower—had been warmer.
Skin contact wasn't the issue either. Horikita hadn't been wrapped in layers.
Maybe the shampoo scent had been a bit strong—but she'd smelled it before, even at close range when she'd grabbed her face that time.
Yet the feeling was completely different.
Why?
Because he was male?
If… No. There was no "if." Everyone else was disgusting. She had no reason to hug anyone else.
But then what was it?
Kushida frowned, unable to figure it out no matter how she thought about it.
After a while, she gave up.
She checked the time on her terminal.
Without lingering outside Horikita's door, she turned and headed down the stairs.
[Open the door]
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