In other words… yeah. Maybe don't think so narrowly.
Everyone probably heard the teachers say it at the opening ceremony, right?
"You can buy anything you want at this school with points."
It sounds pretentious, and if you take it literally, it's obviously not true.
But that sentence really is the core idea this so-called elite vocational school wants to drill into students.
Money is everything.
A school built by a corrupt, capital-driven government, teaching students this mindset.
Work yourself to death. Earn desperately. Save obsessively.
As long as you have money, even expulsion can be revoked.
As long as you have money, even your midterm scores can be altered.
Mm. Maybe you should try it sometime.
Buy someone else's exam score and get them expelled? ]
He finished the last line at lightning speed and immediately stopped writing.
Click.
He clipped the pen back onto the diary, tossed it aside casually, and ended today's entry.
The reason he wrapped things up so abruptly was simple.
—The Kushida in his arms was starting to get emotional.
At first, she just pouted slightly, clearly unhappy that the diary was interrupting her again.
Then she focused her attention on the pages.
She shifted into a comfortable reading position and began flipping through.
When he wrote about teaching people how to date…
When he described kissing…
Her reading speed noticeably slowed.
It wasn't hard to guess what was going through her mind.
But when the tone suddenly shifted, her fists clenched.
And Little Kushida's hand reached down and grabbed his thigh.
Compared to venting on a diary she couldn't tear or damage, squeezing Asakusa's thigh was way more satisfying.
As for whether it hurt him…
She'd already let him touch her however he wanted.
What was wrong with pinching his thigh a little?!
Touch, touch.
He lightly patted her chest, soothing her.
After she finished reading the final section about points and money, he finally spoke softly.
"What's wrong now?"
Even though he knew perfectly well why she was pinching him, he still asked anyway.
"..."
Her grip paused.
After letting out a long breath, she finally released him and muttered quietly,
"I feel looked down on."
What did he mean by "Do you even have someone to kiss?"
What did he mean by "I don't expect you to find anyone"?
Who was he looking down on?!
As if having someone to kiss was something to brag about!
She didn't care about "marshmallow softness."
She didn't care about "sweet, honeyed taste."
Hugging was enough for her!
…And what was with those stupid instructions about simulating kissing?
Cross your thumb and index finger?
Could that really feel like lips?
Without realizing it, that thought popped into her head.
"Who's looking down on you?" Asakusa asked from behind.
She ignored him.
Her right hand gently rubbed the slightly reddened skin where she'd pinched his thigh.
After hesitating for a while, the words from the diary flashed through her mind again.
Thumb and index finger…
Then…
Not hard, but not especially soft either.
Just the ordinary feeling of knuckles.
Neither romantic nor sweet.
If she used both hands to form a gap and pressed it to her lips…
"..."
Still nothing special.
Just trading finger joints for the skin between her thumb and index finger.
A bit softer, more flesh, farther from bone.
But still ordinary.
It was her own hand. Of course she knew what it felt like.
…Seriously, she was so stupid.
Why was she actually trying this?
If she wanted to kiss…
Wasn't there a perfect target right here?
They'd already hugged.
Already touched.
So… one kiss wouldn't make much difference, right?
In the end, kissing was just physical contact.
Just switching from normal places to lips.
There was no need to overthink it.
Lips were just soft tissue. Everyone had them.
Nothing special.
Yeah. No big deal.
She pressed her lips together repeatedly, gathering courage.
Then she shifted forward slightly and turned around.
"Close your eyes."
Avoiding his gaze, she tilted her head and wrapped her arms around his neck.
"…I suddenly feel like giving you a reward."
Asakusa blinked, surprised by her obvious shyness.
"...Are you really in heat?"
He'd expected some reaction after writing that diary.
But not this.
"You're the one in heat!"
She snapped, embarrassed, releasing him and clumsily covering his eyes with her left hand.
It barely blocked anything.
Taking a deep breath, she tightened her arm around his neck.
Then she pulled his head down.
And leaned forward.
So, that "no-big-deal" mucous membrane contact began.
Warm breath brushed against her face.
She could clearly feel her breathing becoming uneven.
Her mind went blank.
She only knew she wanted more.
Her hand covering his eyes loosened.
Then his gaze met hers at point-blank range.
Every detail reflected clearly.
Was it soft?
She didn't know.
The moment their lips touched, she stopped caring about texture.
Her mind was flooded with other sensations.
Was it sweet?
Maybe a little.
But not syrupy sweet.
More like the faint sweetness after taking a sip of water.
Rather than softness or flavor…
What stood out most was her heart, pounding wildly.
The thrill of realizing she was doing something incredibly bold.
Ah… the diary had been right about one thing.
This feeling really was intoxicating.
Still, in her heart, she screamed at the top of her lungs:
—Who says I don't have anyone to kiss?!
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