His school uniform, now more reminiscent of a particularly avant-garde mesh garment thanks to Suigintou's inky feathers, was beyond salvage. With a resigned sigh, Hozuki Nozomi changed into a fresh set of casual wear before making his way to Soubu High School.
Upon entering his classroom, his gaze immediately intersected with that of Kawasaki Saki. She was watching him, which had become a common occurrence. Her sharp, usually stoic eyes held a complex mix of professionalism, gratitude, and a hint of something more personal she hadn't fully articulated.
Thus, during the mid-morning break, he sent her a brief text, summoning her to their usual spot on the rooftop.
"Is something the matter, Hozuki Nozomi?" Kawasaki Saki asked, standing before him with a posture that was slightly too rigid.
A faint, uncharacteristic nervousness colored her tone. Her relationship with him was multifaceted: he was her classmate, her benefactor who had pulled her family from financial precarity, her employer, and—though it was never officially stated—the person for whom she was being groomed as a personal secretary by Yukinoshita Haruno herself.
Nozomi surveyed her appearance—the neat school uniform, the sleek chestnut hair tied back, the sharp eyes that softened imperceptibly when looking at him—and a smile of genuine appreciation touched his lips. "Can't I simply want to see you, Saki? It feels like it's been a while since we just talked."
His demeanor, already comfortably entrenched in what some might call 'scoundrel' territory, showed no signs of reform. If he was going to be unapologetically forward with one, he might as well be consistent with all. He took responsibility in his own way, after all.
Under his direct scrutiny, the aloof, efficient secretary persona she meticulously maintained during work hours evaporated. A blush crept up her neck to her cheeks, and she subconsciously drew her shoulders in slightly. "O-Of course you can. What did you want to talk about?"
Nozomi naturally reached out, his arm finding the slender curve of her waist, and guided her to sit on the long bench he had discreetly installed. It was a recent online purchase, delivered for the express purpose of providing comfort during rooftop rendezvous—primarily his own.
"Saki, how has work been lately? Have you adjusted well?" he began, his tone conversational.
"It's manageable. Lately, Yang Nai-senpai has entrusted me with more independent tasks instead of guiding me step-by-step," she reported, her voice gaining steadiness as she discussed work.
"You haven't been neglecting your studies, have you?"
"Of course not."
"No, I think you've been falling behind in one of the most crucial subjects," he countered, a playful glint in his eye.
"Which one?" she asked, tilting her head up to look at him, genuinely confused.
His answer was not verbal. Leaning down, he captured her soft, slightly parted lips in a kiss.
Kawasaki Saki's eyes widened in initial shock. But comprehension dawned quickly. Of course, she thought. She was aware of her own attractiveness. It was only a matter of time before his interest, which had always simmered just beneath the surface of their professional interactions, manifested more directly.
After a heartbeat of stunned stillness, a wave of acceptance washed over her. The initial tension melted away, replaced by a warm, fluttering sensation.
Quietly, she raised her arms and looped them around his neck, returning the kiss with a shy but definite pressure. Her feelings towards him were a tangled skein of gratitude, admiration for his capabilities, and an undeniable physical attraction facilitated by his handsome features.
His primary flaw—his blatant playboy tendencies—seemed almost a given, an intrinsic part of someone as extraordinary as he was. If even the esteemed Yukinoshita sisters were bound to him, what ground did she, a secretary-in-training, have to object? When Yukinoshita Haruno herself had tacitly approved of this dynamic, who was she to dissent?
Her body gradually softened, pliant in his arms. With ease, he lifted her and settled her onto his lap. The kiss deepened, becoming less tentative, more exploratory. Kawasaki Saki's mind whirled, filled with a pleasant static. All she could do was blush fiercely, her breaths coming in soft, shallow pants against his mouth, allowing him to guide her through this new, intimate "academic study."
Nozomi, however, knew where to draw the line—for now. He contented himself with this thorough introduction, eventually breaking the kiss and letting her catch her breath. She was his precious little secretary; there was no need to rush. Moreover, a windy school rooftop was hardly the ideal setting for a true first time. A girl deserved proper respect and ambiance.
"Saki," he said, his voice back to a businesslike calm, though his arm remained around her. "How are the preparations for the virtual reality game's public beta proceeding?"
"Hmm," she murmured, taking a moment to reorient her thoughts. "It's... it's on schedule. The second closed beta concluded smoothly, so the public beta should be ready to launch very soon."
"Are you overwhelmed with work?"
"I'm alright. Most coordination can be handled remotely via calls and messages."
"Good. Don't overwork yourself," he said, his thumb brushing her waist. "Because I might drop by at any time to continue our... academic research."
Kawasaki Saki's face flamed anew, but she stayed silent. In her heart, she couldn't help but protest. Academic research? That's just a flimsy excuse for taking liberties and doing indecent things!
Yet, despite her internal grumbling, she gave a small, almost imperceptible nod of agreement. Though she had no prior romantic experience, she found she didn't dislike this ambiguous, thrilling relationship with Hozuki Nozomi. It was confusing, electrifying, and uniquely theirs.
Back in the classroom, the third period was Homeroom with Shizuka Hiratsuka. However, instead of launching into a lesson, she leaned against her podium and addressed the class with a tired-but-determined air.
"Listen up. Next week, we'll be hosting exchange students from Toyonosaki Academy. In conjunction with that, the school will be holding another cultural festival." She paused, letting the mixed groans and whispers subside.
"The principal wants to showcase our club diversity and school spirit to attract a wider applicant pool. You know the drill: each class hosts a unique activity, no repeats. This isn't optional; it's a direct order from the top, so think seriously."
Her sharp gaze swept across the room. "So? Any ideas for what we, Class F, should do?"
Almost immediately, Hozuki Nozomi's hand shot up. A charming, utterly innocent smile graced his features.
"I propose we revive the marriage experience activity, Hiratsuka-sensei. It was quite effective last time. And," he added, his tone dripping with faux-solicitousness, "if needed, I'd be willing to volunteer as your partner to demonstrate. For the sake of authenticity, of course."
The reaction from the male student body was instantaneous and vehement.
"NO!""Absolutely not!""That activity is banned!""He's a beast! He won't even spare our beautiful teacher!"
Their opposition was rooted in vivid, painful memory. During the last festival, Hozuki Nozomi had essentially monopolized the event, charming his way through multiple 'marriages' and earning the infamous title of 'Soubu's Succubus.'
Aside from a couple of pre-existing pairs, most boys had been left watching from the sidelines, utterly defeated. The prospect of a repeat performance, potentially even featuring their admired (and feared) teacher as a target, was too much to bear.
Shizuka Hiratsuka herself arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow, fixing Nozomi with a look that was equal parts warning, exasperation, and a flicker of something else she quickly suppressed. This little brat! Did he just casually offer to be my 'husband'? He really has no sense of boundaries!
"Alright, alright, settle down," she said, her voice cutting through the din. "The marriage experience is officially vetoed. Anyone else have a serious suggestion?"
She emphasized the word, throwing a sidelong glance at Nozomi, who simply smiled back, unrepentant. It was clear his mind wasn't on school spirit, but on... other festivals.
With the primary menace's idea quashed, the boys began pitching their own fantasies.
"How about a maid café?" one suggested eagerly. "The girls could wear maid outfits! It'd be super popular!"
This was met with immediate and unified rejection from the female half of the class."Wearing those and having to call strangers 'master'? No way!""That title is for someone special, not just anyone!"The boys slumped, their dream of being served by cute maids dashed.
Not to be deterred, another boy, emboldened by desperation, blurted out, "Then what about a swimming club exhibition? School swimsuits! A swimsuit showcase!"
This suggestion bordered on the ludicrous. Before the girls could even muster their outrage, Hozuki Nozomi was the first to raise his hand in firm opposition.
"Objection," he stated flatly, his playful demeanor replaced by one of decisive protectiveness.
Wedding dresses were one thing—elegant, symbolic, beautiful in a shared, public celebration. But swimsuits? That was a private matter.
The sight of Shiina Mahiru, Ogiwara Sayu, or any of the others in such attire was a privilege he reserved strictly for himself, to be appreciated in a much more intimate setting. The cultural festival would have to find its appeal elsewhere.