After running her best wounded-heroine routine to tug at Yūto Shō's sympathy, Tachibana Hina was secretly pleased with herself. She wiped away tears that had never actually fallen, glanced up at him, and let her eyes flood with disbelief. "Really? You're not lying to me?"
Yūto Shō nodded with the earnestness of a shounen protagonist swearing an oath. "Really. I don't want Hina-Nee to suffer."
"Shō-Kun, you're too sweet." Warmth bloomed in Tachibana Hina's chest, half tenderness and half guilt. To get him to play along, she'd weaponized his kindness like the antagonist in her own story.
"But how do you actually make strawberry marks? I don't get it. Hina-Nee, can you teach me?"
The question came out shy, almost bashful — Yūto Shō perfectly playing the clueless newbie.
Tachibana Hina felt her face heat at the directness of it, but Yūto Shō's earlier behavior had earned him a max-affinity rating in her head, so she didn't suspect a thing. She braced herself and explained, "Shō-Kun, press your mouth against my neck and then... suck. Like slurping a snail out of its shell — that's how the mark shows up."
The young woman wanted to evaporate on the spot, the embarrassment radiating off her like steam off ramen. But she couldn't flinch. She was the adult here. This was her cross to bear.
"Slurping a snail?" Yūto Shō's eyes locked on Tachibana Hina's pale neck. He swallowed audibly and tested the waters. "So... should we start now?"
Tachibana Hina was just as shy, but she pulled in a slow breath and steadied herself. "Mm. Let's begin."
Then she closed her eyes.
Yūto Shō's expression shifted the instant her lashes touched her cheeks — the harmless mask slipping just slightly. He studied the woman in front of him with the focus of a player examining a rare drop, then stepped closer.
He stopped less than half a meter away, watching Tachibana Hina fake composure while her whole body buzzed with nerves. He found it genuinely entertaining and decided to prod her a little. "Alright, should I start?"
Her eyelashes fluttered. Her small fists clenched in her lap. "Let's begin!"
Yūto Shō didn't move to bite right away. Instead, he bent down and inhaled at the curve of her neck, drawing in the clean scent of her shower gel. At the same time, his gaze slipped down through the loose collar of the men's shirt she was wearing and caught the full view of her plump, bunny-soft breasts. No bra. The details were crystal-clear, like a freshly unlocked CG scene.
"Shō-Kun?" Tachibana Hina, still strung tight as a bowstring, waited and waited but no kiss came. She asked in confusion, equal parts disappointment and bewilderment.
"Uh — I'm a little nervous." Yūto Shō straightened up smoothly.
Tachibana Hina was mortified beyond words, but she clamped down on it and forced her voice into the gentle senpai register. "Don't be nervous. We're just acting. Close your eyes and kiss my neck hard. I won't blame you."
"...Alright then."
This time Yūto Shō gave her no warning. The second the words left his mouth, he leaned in and locked onto her tender neck, sucking hard.
Feeling his lips fasten onto her like that, Tachibana Hina jerked involuntarily, a noise escaping her throat. "Ah, no, Shō-Kun, don't suck so hard... mmh... hmm—"
The little gasp slipped out before she could catch it, her voice gone soft and dangerously seductive. The way her delicate neck was being pulled at, it felt like he was siphoning her soul out through her skin. Her whole body went rigid. Her thighs squeezed together on instinct.
Since it was supposed to be acting, Yūto Shō didn't dare linger. After stealing as much as he could get away with, he released her and stepped back.
He looked down at the flushed, dazed woman in front of him, fighting to keep his expression neutral while his brain ran the calculations. Sensitive. Definitely sensitive. The way she'd reacted when he helped her up earlier, and now this — every touch lit her up like she was running on a hair-trigger affection meter.
Tachibana Hina felt his mouth leave her skin, the tension in her body slowly unraveling. Strangely, somewhere underneath the relief, there was a thread of reluctance she didn't want to examine.
She opened her hazy eyes and couldn't bring herself to look at Yūto Shō. Quietly, she reached for the tissue box on the bedside, pulled one out, and dabbed at her damp neck.
The tissue saturated almost instantly. Tachibana Hina shot Yūto Shō a shy glance, tossed it into the trash, and yanked out another one to keep wiping.
Yūto Shō put on his most contrite face. "I'm sorry, Hina-Nee, I got you all dirty."
Tachibana Hina pressed a hand to her chest, trying to slow the drum solo of her heartbeat. Seeing him so apologetic, she offered a soft smile. "Shō-Kun, you were just too nervous. When you kiss a girl in the future, you can't do it like this. Too much saliva, and she'll start to find it gross."
Yūto Shō ducked his head so she couldn't read his face and stammered out, "It was... it was my first time. I really didn't know how."
Hearing him call this his first kiss — even though, technically, it wasn't a kiss — Tachibana Hina couldn't stop the tiny flutter in her chest, the inexplicable rush of pleasure that came with being someone's first anything.
Ashamed of her own reaction, she rushed to redirect. "Let's not talk about that. Shō-Kun, come check if the strawberry mark showed up."
Yūto Shō walked over, peeked, and reported back with shy delight. "It came out — a red mark."
Tachibana Hina's pretty face turned a deeper shade of pink. She pressed a hand to her neck and said softly, "Thank you, Shō-Kun. I should head back now."
"I'll walk you."
Before he could finish the sentence, she shut him down with a flustered wave. "No need, I'll see myself out. You should get some sleep."
And with that, Tachibana Hina fled the room like she was outrunning her own embarrassment.
…
The instant the door clicked shut behind her, every trace of harmlessness drained out of Yūto Shō's face. He muttered to himself, "So shy. Doesn't act married at all. But her body's wired tighter than a tsundere on her first date."
Replaying the last few minutes in his head, Yūto Shō swallowed hard, the ache below his belt becoming impossible to ignore.
He bolted for the bathroom for a cold shower — and that's when he noticed Tachibana Hina had forgotten to take her changed-out clothes with her. The lace-trimmed lingerie sat there like contraband, fanning the flames inside him to inferno levels.
Yūto Shō pinched his own thigh hard enough to bruise, powered through a freezing rinse, and got out fast.
…
Meanwhile, Tachibana Hina had made it home and walked in to find Natsuo parked on the sofa. His eyes lit up the moment he saw her — and when he registered the men's clothing she was wearing, he sprang to his feet like he'd just rolled an SSR.
"Hina-Chan, did you seduce the kid?"
A flicker of disgust passed through Tachibana Hina's eyes before she smoothed it over. She nodded. "I did. But Shō-Kun is really shy, and he already likes someone, so he wasn't exactly eager to play along."
Natsuo grinned. "It's fine. Boys his age have urges they can't keep in check. He won't keep turning you down forever. You're a knockout."
"How far did you get this time?"
He leaned in, eyes glittering with that creepy too-eager energy. Tachibana Hina's stomach turned, but she kept her expression in check, even letting a faint blush color her cheeks. "We kissed for a little while."
Natsuo's whole face lit up, especially when he caught sight of the strawberry mark blooming on her neck. He looked ready to vibrate out of his skin.
Just as he was about to dig for the juicy details, Tachibana Hina cut him off. "Natsuo, I'm really tired. I want to turn in early."
He swallowed back his questions and nodded, smiling. "Go rest. Just thinking about you out there... I'm too wired to sleep anyway."
Every second near him made her skin crawl harder. She didn't waste another breath, just hurried straight back to her own room. She'd been sleeping separately for a while now, so at least she didn't have to share air with him any longer than absolutely necessary.
Natsuo noticed her dark mood, but he couldn't have cared less. He sat back down on the couch with a smug grin spreading across his face, basking in his own satisfaction like a final boss who'd just stolen the protagonist's girl.
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