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Chapter 8: After-Hours Entanglements
The next day, same time.
"In other words, you didn't finish it again."
In the department of disappointment, Mishima never failed to deliver. The office was so eerily silent that Yoshida could hear a colleague whispering, "Here we go again."
"I figured this would happen, so I finished your portion too. I'll send it to your inbox; surely you can handle the final touches?"
Yoshida let out a silent sigh and shook his head as he returned to his desk.
"Ah, Yoshida-senpai..."
Surprised that the expected storm of criticism hadn't come, Mishima looked up, but only saw Yoshida's retreating back.
"What's with you today?" Hashimoto asked on behalf of their curious coworkers the moment Yoshida sat down.
"I'm just tired of it." Yoshida brushed aside a rolled-up piece of A4 paper Hashimoto was using as a makeshift microphone and wordlessly started his work.
"To push you to this point... little Mishima is quite something."
"Don't start. Thanks to her, I was up late catching up on the schedule. I'm exhausted."
If Sayu hadn't huffed and declared that she wouldn't sleep until he did, he probably would have pulled an all-night session.
"Hey, little Mishima has suddenly gotten serious," Hashimoto noted a moment later.
"I'm surprised you noticed," Yoshida replied. Usually, Hashimoto looked busy while secretly browsing on his second monitor.
Yoshida adjusted his posture and stole a casual glance toward Mishima. Normally, she'd have a small window open to slack off while never-ending snacks entered her mouth, but now she was actually working.
...Is she the type who responds better to the cold shoulder than a lecture? Yoshida began to seriously consider if he needed to change his coaching style.
"Hehe, thanks for your hard work, Senpai~"
"Yeah..."
The setting was a popular, budget-friendly izakaya. Mishima clinked her glass against Yoshida's, her cute smile carrying a hint of a plea for favor. As his junior took a large gulp of a blackcurrant cocktail, Yoshida drained his beer. The icy, refreshing sensation traveled from his throat to his stomach, clearing his work-weary brain slightly before the alcohol could take hold.
"Listen, if you can do a good job when you actually try, then do it right during regular hours."
He couldn't help the lecture, though he tried to keep his tone gentle. A few hours ago, Mishima had finished the project's final touches with surprising efficiency. At the end of her email, she had attached an invitation: Senpai, are you free for a few drinks?
Yoshida, who had already prepared to work late, figured a quick drink wouldn't keep Sayu waiting too long, so he had agreed.
"Thash becaushe..."
"Hey, swallow before you speak."
Mishima, cheeks puffed out like a hamster, sped up her chewing. She had already decimated most of the yakitori in front of her. If Ms. Goto was a refined lady, this girl was... a rodent?
"Senpai?"
"Ah, sorry. Just thinking about things."
In the brief moment Yoshida had spaced out, Mishima had swallowed her food. She shyly looked away, twirling her hair. It must be uncomfortable to be watched while eating, Yoshida thought, quickly offering an apology.
"But, girls are more popular when they're a bit ditzy, aren't they?" Mishima said as she stood up to pour more beer for Yoshida.
"What?"
The sudden shift toward romance left Yoshida momentarily stunned.
"It's the same thing. If you can't do the work well, everyone dotes on you instead."
Yoshida's face darkened as he realized her logic. Seeing his expression, Mishima let out a light laugh.
"It's true. Only Yoshida-senpai takes the time to actually criticize me."
"Then what do the others do?"
Honestly, Yoshida hadn't paid much attention to how others treated her. Until now, their interactions had been strictly professional.
"Hmm... usually they just take me out for drinks after work and let it slide."
The beer in Yoshida's glass suddenly tasted bitter.
"Hey, I'm not doing this for that reason."
"Hehe, I know. After all, I'm the one who invited you today."
Mishima stared at him with moist, earnest eyes, making him feel inexplicably restless.
"By the way, Senpai, you definitely have a woman, don't you? Is that who you were thinking about?"
"I don't."
He felt like he'd had this conversation recently.
"I won't tell anyone. Is it Ms. Goto?"
"W-why would you think it's her!"
"Ah, so it is."
"Wait just a minute!"
Whether for Ms. Goto's reputation or his own sanity, Yoshida felt he had to explain.
"...So, Senpai was the one who got rejected."
"Well, that's how it is."
He drained his glass again and sighed. Mishima dutifully refilled it.
"I feel relieved then. I wouldn't stand a chance against Ms. Goto."
As she set the bottle down, she casually dropped a bombshell.
"Ah, it's getting late..."
"I like you, Yoshida-senpai."
Yoshida, looking panicked, tried to make an escape, but Mishima didn't give him the chance.
"I didn't want you to actually hate me, so I worked hard to finish that task."
"...This isn't the place to talk. Let's head out first."
People nearby were already glancing over at the sudden confession. With a throbbing headache, Yoshida grabbed the flushed Mishima and hurried out of the izakaya before a bigger scene could break out.
"Listen, we don't know each other well enough. A girl shouldn't just give herself away because of a little kindness."
"But I just like you, Senpai."
As they headed toward the mall exit, Yoshida continued his earnest preaching. Mishima, acting submissive yet physically firm, clung to his arm and showed no intention of letting go.
"You really are something..."
If asked whether he liked or disliked her, Yoshida obviously liked her. No man would dislike a girl this cute.
"Let go for a second. You aren't planning to follow me in here, are you?"
Stopping in front of the men's restroom, Yoshida finally managed to coax Mishima into letting go.
Standing alone at the urinal, Yoshida finally found a moment of peace to think about how to handle his junior. However, just as he pulled out his member—swollen and turgid from holding back a full bladder—the door to the stall behind him creaked.
"Are you crazy?!"
Yoshida was dragged into the stall, his voice a low, furious hiss. If there had been anyone else in the restroom, a single complaint would have meant social suicide for both of them.
"Senpai..."
Mishima looked wrong. It wasn't just the alcohol; she looked like she was in heat. Kneeling on the floor, she clung tightly to his waist, rubbing her face against the straining fabric of his trousers.
"Stop it, you idiot, it's going to come out!"
Yoshida tried to pull away, but the petite girl was surprisingly strong. Weakened by the strain of holding his bladder, he was forced down onto the closed toilet lid.
Mishima didn't hesitate. She greedily pulled his member free, her eyes widening at the sight of its turgid, pulsing state. Without a word, she swiped her tongue from the base to the very tip, savoring the salty pre-cum that had already begun to bead.
Slurp, nng, chu...
Her mouth opened wide, engulfing him. The heat was instantaneous and overwhelming. The sensation of her soft, wet lips sealing around him, combined with the rhythmic suction she applied, sent a jolt of pure electricity straight to Yoshida's brain.
"Sss, wait... Mishima..."
He tried to protest, but his voice broke into a ragged groan. She was relentless. She used her hands to massage the base of his shaft while her tongue performed intricate, swirling patterns around the sensitive ridge of his glans. Every time she bobbed her head, she went deeper, her throat constricting around him in a tight, velvet grip that made his toes curl against the tile floor.
Amidst the splashing sounds, Mishima took him even deeper, her eyes looking up at him with a hazy, devoted intensity. The pressure in his bladder was reaching a critical point. As the first stream of urine escaped, he expected her to recoil, but she only sucked harder, her cheeks hollowing as she began to drink him in.
Gulp, nng, gulp, gulp...
The sensation was perverse and impossibly intense. The heat of the liquid passing through him, combined with the muscular contractions of her throat acting like a second mouth, felt like he was being milked by a living machine. Her tongue meticulously licked his scrotum, vibrating against his skin as she swallowed rhythmically, silently encouraging him to surrender every drop.
Yoshida's vision blurred. The combination of the relief from his bladder and the extreme oral stimulation pushed him over the edge. His muscles seized, and deep inside her throat, a burst of white viscosity shot against the walls of her esophagus. It was a violent, rhythmic ejaculation that lasted for over ten seconds.
He gripped her hair, his hips bucking involuntarily as he poured himself into her. Once the climax subsided, the urination resumed briefly, the thin stream washing away the thick, creamy essence that clung to her throat, finally mixing together in her stomach.
"Puh—ha... haa... haa... cough, cough..."
Teary-eyed, Mishima slowly released him from her throat. A thin silver string of saliva and seed connected them for a moment before she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She coughed violently as a bit of the stray fluid entered her nasal cavity, her face flushed a deep crimson.
"What on earth are you doing..."
Cupping her small, ravaged face, Yoshida wanted to scold her but couldn't find the heart. His entire body felt heavy, drained of tension and logic alike. To criticize a junior for being "too devoted" felt hypocritical when his own spent member was still glistening from her efforts.
"Senpai, did it feel good? Hehe... Manager Onosaka said... it feels good like this..."
Yoshida's face, which had briefly softened with emotion, instantly turned black.
"Too slow..."
Sayu, wrapped in her quilt and rolling around, let out a sound that was half-moan, half-sigh.
"Yeah, my bad."
"The food is cold."
"I'm sorry."
Yoshida sat in a formal seiza position, feeling that no amount of apologizing would be enough. After forcing the sobbing Mishima into a taxi—who had been mumbling, "Is it because I'm not a virgin?"—he had rushed home as fast as possible, but it was already 10:00 PM.
"Was it a woman?"
Sayu poked her head out from under the covers.
"...Yes."
No matter how he spun it, he had been dragged into "adult things" by a woman. Yoshida lowered his head further. Sayu, who had asked almost casually, froze at the reply. Then she dove back under the quilt entirely.
"Hmph. A woman, huh. Did you have fun?"
Her voice was muffled, making it hard to read her tone.
"If I had to say... not really."
In the silence, the quilt began to tremble. Is she crying? Just as Yoshida stood up, worried and debating whether to pull the covers back, Sayu's red face emerged as she burst into laughter.
"Alright, alright! It's not like I'm Mr. Yoshida's girlfriend anyway~"
"Uh, but still..."
Her magnanimity only made Yoshida feel more guilty.
"Was it that person?" (referring to Goto)
"No."
"That's good then~"
Having received the answer she wanted, Sayu stood up with a grin. Then, as if remembering something, she followed up. "By the way, what exactly does Mr. Yoshida like about her?"
What exactly...? The first thing that came to Yoshida's mind, fueled by the memory of Mishima's body pressed against him in that cramped stall, was...
"The chest, I guess?"
"That's good then~"
Sayu, a well-endowed high schooler herself, hummed a little tune and walked briskly toward the kitchen, leaving a bewildered Yoshida standing there.
"Come on, get over here. Izakayas never have proper food anyway."
"Ah? Oh... right."