Ten minutes later, Sakiko emerged from the apartment building in her neatly pressed school uniform.
Her gait was strange. Each step required her to clench her thigh muscles with desperate concentration, squeezing tight, terrified of losing control.
Megumi stood beside the black sedan, expression blank as she opened the rear door.
Sakiko bit down hard and endured the friction of the liquid sloshing inside her with every movement, the fullness shifting and rubbing as she awkwardly climbed into the car.
The door closed.
The black sedan carried her, along with her shameful, unspeakable secret, toward Haneoka.
...
The morning sun at Haneoka Girls' Academy was almost painfully bright.
For most students, it marked the hopeful start of a new day. For Sakiko, every step felt like walking on razor blades.
The car didn't stop at the conspicuous main gate. Per Sakiko's instructions, it pulled into a secluded alley near the back entrance.
"Miss Sakiko, I wish you success in your studies."
Megumi's voice was flat as always.
But to Sakiko's ears, it sounded like mockery.
She clenched her jaw, offered no response, and struggled to slide her body out of the backseat.
The moment her toes touched ground, that heavy, dragging sensation intensified as her center of gravity shifted. It felt like even the slightest relaxation of her muscles would cause something to slip past her weakening defenses and overflow.
That bastard... that demon...
She cursed Seiji in her mind.
He wasn't just a tyrant. He was an absolute monster when it came to stamina.
The amount he'd left inside her last night was absurd.
Was this even humanly possible?
Now all of it churned and sloshed deep within her body, stimulating that ring of sensitive nerves with every movement.
Calm down. Calm down.
Sakiko drew a deep breath, trying to regulate her breathing and suppress the shameful, aching fullness in her lower abdomen.
She smoothed her skirt with one hand, confirmed nothing looked amiss on the outside, and forced herself to walk toward the school.
To avoid the morning crowd, she deliberately avoided the main path to the academic building, instead cutting through the lush courtyard garden toward the club building in the corner of campus.
At this hour, the club building should be deserted.
She would clean up in the restroom there.
Just hold on until I get there...
Sakiko repeated it like a mantra, like self-hypnosis.
But fine beads of sweat had already formed on her forehead, and her face was flushed an unnatural shade of red from the extreme effort of holding back.
...
Meanwhile, on the second floor corridor of the academic building.
Tomori walked with her head down, lost in thought, trailing behind Anon.
After talking about CRYCHIC with Anon last night, she'd had a dream. In it, Sakiko smiled gently and reached out a hand toward her. But when she woke, she faced only an empty room and cold reality.
"Tomori! Look at that!"
Anon suddenly stopped and tugged at Tomori's sleeve, her voice tinged with surprise and excitement.
"What is it?"
Tomori lifted her head blankly and looked where Anon was pointing.
Through the corridor window, they could see a corner of the courtyard garden. On a path rarely traveled, a familiar figure was stumbling forward.
Sakiko Toyokawa.
But something was very wrong with her today.
She was walking slowly, each step looking abnormally heavy.
Her right hand was pressed tight against her lower abdomen, her back slightly hunched, as if enduring some kind of pain. Even from this distance, Tomori could sense how fragile and unsteady she seemed.
"Sakiko!" Tomori's pupils contracted. "She looks... like she's in so much pain."
"Is she sick?" Anon frowned with concern. "Her face is so red! And the way she's walking... does her stomach hurt really badly?"
"Stomachache..."
A thousand terrible possibilities flashed through Tomori's mind.
Acute appendicitis? Perforated ulcer? Her period?
"Anon!" Tomori whipped around. "I need to help Sakiko!"
"Of course!" Anon clenched her fists and nodded. "I'm coming too!"
"Yeah! Together!"
Tomori nodded hard and dashed for the stairs.
"Huh? Tomori! Wait for me!"
Anon barely had time to react before hurrying after her.
...
"Hah... hah..."
Sakiko had no idea two people were approaching from behind.
Right now, she was facing the ultimate test of both body and mind.
This path that normally took five minutes felt endless today.
Every step, even just the friction of skin, sent jolts of electricity through her. The sensation of liquid slowly shifting inside her, slick and warm, filled her with unbearable shame, yet from that shame bloomed a perverse, twisted pleasure.
That pleasure was like a devil's whisper, making her legs go weak, nearly dropping her to her knees.
No... can't stop...
She bit her lip hard.
Finally, the club building's gray-white walls appeared at the end of her vision.
Hope flickered in Sakiko's eyes.
But then—
"Sakiko—!!!"
A frantic, piercing shout thundered from behind her.
Sakiko's body went rigid. The delicate balance she'd barely been maintaining nearly collapsed in an instant.
She turned her head in horror.
Twenty meters back, at the end of the path, two figures in school uniforms were sprinting toward her.
Tomori Takamatsu.
Anon Chihaya.
In Sakiko's mind, those two names no longer meant "former bandmates." They meant "social death."
N-no, don't come...
Sakiko's eyes went wide with panic, a silent scream of desperation echoing in her head.
If they saw her like this...
If they smelled that scent...
A shame worse than death engulfed her.
"Toyokawa-san! Don't be scared! We'll help you!"
Seeing Sakiko stop, Tomori assumed she was in too much pain to keep walking and shouted even more urgently, running faster.
"Don't... don't come any closer!!!"
Sakiko finally screamed aloud.
But from the extreme tension and the strangeness in her body, her voice came out fractured and trembling, sounding more like a desperate plea for help.
Fear overwhelmed everything.
Sakiko didn't dare hesitate another second. She spun around and lurched toward the club building in an almost twisted posture, throwing all caution aside.
"She's pushing herself too hard!"
Anon called out to Tomori as they ran. "Look how much pain she's in when she runs! She must be trying not to burden us!"
"I know! That's why I absolutely won't let go!"
Tomori's eyes blazed with determination.
...
For Sakiko in her current state, running was pure torture.
Every footfall sent shockwaves through her body like hammer blows against the already overburdened gates.
The pressure of the liquid was mounting. A thin trickle of warmth was already seeping through the cracks.
No... no... go back... don't come out...
Sakiko prayed desperately in her mind.
Her eyes were fixed on the club building ahead.
Closer.
Closer still.
She could even hear Tomori's ragged breathing behind her.
Finally, she burst into the first-floor lobby of the club building.
Without a moment's hesitation, she dashed into the women's restroom and charged into the farthest stall.
Click.
Her trembling fingers finally latched the lock.
Sakiko slumped back against the door, sliding down onto the toilet seat.
She was gasping for air. Sweat had soaked through her blouse, clinging uncomfortably to her back.
Safe...
She closed her eyes, trying to calm her racing heart.
As long as she waited for them to leave... as long as they gave up looking and left...
But the gods, it seemed, were not about to let her off so easily.
Almost the next second.
Hurried footsteps echoed from outside.
"Sakiko-san! Are you in there?!"
Tomori's voice was right outside, thick with worry.
"This stall's closed! She must be inside!" That was Anon.
Damn it!!
Sakiko was shaking with frustration. Why did she have to be so observant at a time like this?
"Sakiko! It's Tomori! Please open the door! We'll take you to the nurse's office!"
"That's right, Toyokawa-san! You shouldn't push yourself when you're sick! We'll help you!"
Along with the shouting came banging, thud, thud, thud, against the door.
That banging hammered against Sakiko's frayed nerves like the final straw.
SPLURT—!!!
A sudden, explosive gush of liquid burst out in the narrow, silent stall.
It was like a taut balloon suddenly punctured, like a high-pressure hose finally finding release.
A torrent of mingled fluids, thick with lust and defilement, erupted in an unstoppable surge.
Not a trickle.
A flood.
White semen mixed with clear fluids sprayed like a broken fountain, splattering against the pristine toilet bowl, even flecking her white stockings, painting the porcelain in streaks and splatters.
With that explosive sound came a sharp, pungent musk that filled the cramped space and seeped out through the gaps in the door, spreading rapidly.
"..."
The banging stopped abruptly.
The world outside the stall seemed to freeze.
Tomori's hand hung suspended in mid-air, still in position to knock. The anxious concern on her face went rigid, replaced by bewilderment and shock.
"What was... that sound?"
Tomori blinked, her brain struggling to process.
Was that... diarrhea?
But it didn't sound right. That sound was thicker, more urgent, and the volume seemed enormous.
"Um..."
Beside her, Anon had frozen too.
As someone who browsed various online forums and knew more about biology than Tomori, her nose twitched slightly.
At first, there was only the sharp scent of bathroom cleaner.
But then a very distinctive smell, like the fragrance of chestnut flowers, wafted into her nostrils.
The smell was so intense, so unmistakable, that it couldn't possibly be mistaken for the odor of excrement.
Anon's face changed in an instant.
From confusion to shock to utter, incredulous panic.
This smell...
This sound...
This wasn't illness. This wasn't diarrhea at all.
This was clearly...
Anon slapped her hand over her nose and mouth, eyes as wide as saucers, staring at the closed stall door. As if she could see through it to the obscene, debauched scene within.
"Anon? What's wrong?"
Tomori noticed her friend's strange reaction. She sniffed the air and frowned. "What a weird smell..."
"Don't smell it!"
Anon clapped a hand over Tomori's nose, her voice pitched high with alarm. "Don't breathe this in, Tomori!"
"Why..."
"This is... this is..." Anon's face was burning crimson. There was no way she could say those words to innocent Tomori.
On the other side of the door.
Sakiko sat motionless on the toilet.
Her legs were splayed wide, her skirt bunched up around her waist.
That once-proud, untouchable face now stared blankly at the ceiling.
Liquid still dripped and trickled, sliding down the inside of her thighs.
It's over.
Everything is over.
...
In the women's restroom of the club building, a deathly silence hung in the air.
That suffocating quiet lasted only a few seconds before it was broken by hurried, panicked footsteps.
"Come on! Tomori! Let's go!"
Anon seized Tomori's wrist and dragged her toward the exit with all her strength.
"Anon? Why? What about Sakiko..."
Tomori hadn't recovered from the shock yet.
She stared blankly at the still-closed stall door, that strange sound and the unsettling scent that made her instinctively uneasy still echoing in her mind.
"Don't ask! Just run!"
Anon didn't dare look back, didn't dare explain.
Her face was bright red, a mixture of horror, embarrassment, and the panic of glimpsing something forbidden.
She clamped her hand over her nose as if the smell were some kind of deadly toxin, half-dragging, half-pulling Tomori out of the club building.
Only when they reached the sun-drenched courtyard garden did Anon finally let go. She leaned against a cherry tree, gasping for breath.
"Hah... hah... that was terrifying..."
Anon clutched her chest, her heart still pounding.
Even through the door, she could imagine the scene inside. Something that should never exist on sacred school grounds, something filthy and carnal from the adult world.
"Anon..." Tomori stood beside her, watching her friend's shaken state, her confusion deepening. "What was that? That smell... is Sakiko really sick? Should we call an ambulance?"
"An ambulance? No! Absolutely not!"
Anon's head shot up, eyes wide with alarm.
If they called an ambulance, Sakiko would be completely ruined.
She looked into Tomori's innocent, pure eyes and felt a wave of conflict.
How could she explain this?
How could she tell this girl, white as a sheet of paper, that the "Moon Goddess" she so admired had just sprayed a man's seed all over a restroom stall?
"Tomori... listen to me." Anon took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down and phrase it as delicately as possible. "That smell... it wasn't from being sick."
"Then what..."
"It was... the smell of chestnut flowers." Anon's voice dropped to barely a whisper, her face scarlet. "In other words... the smell of a man's... stuff."
"A man's... stuff?" Tomori blinked, clearly not grasping the full meaning behind those words.
"It's... this kind of thing..." Anon had no choice. She leaned in close to Tomori's ear and whispered a quick, abbreviated explanation of where that scent came from and what it meant.
As Anon spoke, Tomori's pupils slowly widened.
The healthy color drained from her face, leaving it pale.
"You mean Sakiko..." Tomori's voice trembled, as if it might shatter. "She had that inside her body?"
"Yeah." Anon nodded gravely. "And that much of it, she must have just... and probably not just once!"
She couldn't even finish the sentence.
What did that mean?
It meant that noble young lady had been through some kind of frenzied encounter right before coming to school, been filled like some kind of vessel, and then had no choice but to come here, carrying all that mess inside her to clean up.
"That's impossible..."
Tomori shook her head violently, her body stumbling back a step involuntarily. "Sakiko would never do something like that!"
"But that smell..." Anon wanted to argue, but seeing Tomori's face, the tears about to spill, she held back.
After a few seconds of silence, she changed course.
"Maybe... maybe she was forced?"
Tomori looked up, startled.
Then she nodded fiercely.
"Yes! She must have been forced! Anon, you saw it too, how much pain Sakiko was in when she was running! Someone must be bullying her! Threatening her!"
"Threatened...?" Anon blinked.