"Aloha! I'm back! You two should be just about done, right?"
Lo-sensei strolled into her domain, the nurse's office, tossing out a Hawaiian greeting.
Done? Please. Nothing had even started.
Since they hadn't done anything guilty in the first place, Kuroba Akira could meet the teacher's eyes with perfect calm—no hint of a thief's guilty conscience.
Hmph! Playing it so natural. This brat must've lied to plenty of little girls before… damn it! All normies should explode! Why does my youth have zero pink in it? Just because I'm short? And what's wrong with short? Short means you can lift the whole thing up and go at it, can those tall Fuji women do that?!
As for not mentioning her chest… well, there was no spinning that. Oono Junko had been drinking papaya milk for fifteen years, and after becoming a school nurse, she'd secretly measured herself every year during the girls' health checks. Not a single millimeter of change. The runway stayed a runway—never bloomed into steamed buns. The flat-chested princess would never rule the world.
That was a genetic flaw no amount of effort could fix—her lifelong sore spot.
Sob, only Motoko will forever be my bestie… provided she marries later than me, of course, and loses her first time later than me too.
Luckily, Motoko was the type with zero interest in romance. With that figure, if she weren't, she'd have graduated long ago…
And Oono Junko knew—Kozaikawa Motoko had such strict parents (one a cop, the other a lawyer) that she was romantically late-blooming to the extreme. Even now, she blushed at kissing scenes on TV. Purity on par with grade schoolers. Most of her "knowledge" in that department came from Junko herself.
Good! Keep it that way! Stay pure for life, my dearest friend!
While inwardly cursing her best friend to eternal singlehood, Oono Junko was also prepping to catch these two students "frolicking" in her office red-handed, just to wipe the smug off their faces.
No matter how well they cleaned up, there was one piece of evidence that couldn't be erased.
Before leaving, she'd even reminded Anri Hitomi—someone who could ace health class questions on this topic—that she wouldn't forget to take precautions. After all, an "accident" was no laughing matter.
So… a missing "oil balloon" from the drawer would be the decisive proof!
Confident, Lo-sensei strode to her desk, yanked open the drawer, and checked the remaining contents in the box.
"Oh-ho? Only one missing? Didn't think you'd be so restrained."
Anri Hitomi, now fully recovered, stood and took out the "oil balloon" she'd just been using to expand her knowledge base.
"Oono-sensei, the missing one is right here in my hand…"
"Wha—! So you didn't use it?!"
Junko was floored. Was this the legendary "opened but not used" condom? The symbolic gesture of intending to use it, then tossing it aside mid-way for a more "natural" feel?
Bold. These students were bold. But the nurse's office didn't stock morning-after pills—had she maybe calculated her safe days?
Still, she was spotless. No discarded panties with suspicious stains, no mysterious drips on her inner thighs, even the sheets were clean…
Then… where did it go?! Mouth? Shoes? Or… the back door?!
Who knew what filthy scenarios the pint-sized teacher was cooking up in her head. Akira rolled his eyes and cut in.
"Of course we didn't use it. You think we'd really go all the way in the nurse's office? This isn't some R-rated anime… And seriously, Lo-sensei, you're a teacher—shouldn't you be discouraging this, not egging it on, kora?!"
"Tch…"
Junko clicked her tongue in disappointment. So it was just platonic pure love? Boring.
Hopping into her chair and tucking her legs up, she spun around as she spoke.
"Actually, if you had used it, I could've reported it to the Academic Affairs Office and earned a bonus. The school's cracking down on impure male-female relationships on campus—especially those that go all the way. If I stopped it in time, my evaluation for the term would be set."
So it was a sting operation?!
This shorty had a belly full of bad ideas.
Not that she'd really rat them out. Anri Hitomi was that Anri family's daughter—no matter what she did, the school would look the other way. Junko was just following policy. If the principal heard, he'd probably praise her for the "good work" and maybe even give her a raise.
Akira, unaware of her little schemes, just eyed the box and said,
"So why does the nurse's office even have these…? Don't tell me they're actually for the students to use?"
"Obviously they're for students—just not for you to use. They're for teaching you how to use them."
"Oh, so they're educational materials."
"Exactly. But we don't cover that until second year—then we explain proper usage. Most troublemakers are in their second year, after all."
Probably because first-years weren't close enough yet, but by second year, relationships bloomed, and young people inevitably made young people's mistakes.
"And to stop anyone from secretly taking them, I count them regularly. So don't think you can mooch off me! If you want some, ask your mom for money and buy them yourself!"
"Who'd steal those…"
"Tch, don't get cocky! If you're done sleeping, get lost! Here's your note, you wimp. I gave you such a golden opportunity and you didn't even score…"
"…"
Unbelievable. He'd just been looked down on by a short stack.
For the last time—they weren't like that! Stop projecting your filthy misunderstandings, you pervy disgrace of a teacher!
But it was exactly like Fujiyoshi Michio had said that morning: other classmates wouldn't believe them.
When Akira and Anri returned to class right before the last period of the morning, the looks they got were different again—full of teasing and knowing smirks.
He could practically read their thoughts.
Because they were just that easy to guess.
Every face said, They definitely did it.
He even overheard a conversation in one of the guys' cliques.
"From the look of it, they totally gave each other their first time! The nurse there is the queen of dirty jokes—of course she'd cover for them! She might've even filmed it!"
"I agree, but one thing—you can't be sure it was their first times."
"What? No way the Class Rep isn't pure! She has to be pure! That guy Kuroba though… maybe not… Damn it, how's that guy got such luck with women?! Why?!"
"Either way, the Class Rep's first is gone for good now. You won't find it anywhere again."
"Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up! Ugh… Class Rep… our Class Rep… sacred Class Rep… defiled by a man… She should've bloomed a beautiful lily with Myao-senpai. That's the only CP I can accept!"
"You're being delusional, but yeah—Kuroba deserves to die."
"That's right! The culprit is Kuroba Akira! He stole our Class Rep! Burn him!"
"Burn burn burn burn burn!"
The killing intent was practically tangible.
Akira had officially become a target of the ever-present FFF Inquisition.
If his earlier spat with Sumitomo Ryouta had just been a petty jealousy drama—where the Class Rep hadn't actually picked anyone yet—this was different. Before, without a confession scene, it was all speculation.
But now? They'd gone together to the nurse's office—statistically the #1 place for "first blood" to be shed—and come back with the Class Rep looking a little shy, even walking a touch unsteady (aftereffects of having her knee-pits mercilessly worked over)…
This was ironclad proof. No other explanation. They'd obviously "graduated" each other.
And so, in the swirling rumors, Kuroba Akira had graduated from virginity.
An illusory loss of single status.
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