Yūto Shō pressed the gentle woman beneath him, face buried against her chest, drunk on her scent, breathing ragged and heavy like he'd just sprinted through a dungeon raid.
The woman pinned under him wore a seductive expression, her fingers slipping through his hair, gently stroking his scalp while her eyes narrowed into lidded crescents, soft moans escaping her lips.
Her other hand had been guided downward, palm closing around Yūto Shō's weak spot. Feeling the heat and vitality pulsing under her grip, a flicker of obsession glimmered in the woman's eyes, and she couldn't stop herself from starting to move.
…
Hearing Yūto Shō's breath grow heavier, Tachibana Hina felt herself rising with him, an inexplicable sense of satisfaction blooming in her chest. Her hand picked up pace, faster, surer.
Then, suddenly, she heard Yūto Shō let out a low growl into her chest. At the same moment, her hand twitched, followed by a burning sensation spilling across her palm like someone had triggered a fire-type move at point-blank range.
Tachibana Hina's small hand trembled, her fingers reflexively tightening into a fist. In that instant, realization hit—and the burn jolted her fully awake, her beautiful eyes flying open, brimming with surprise, anxiety, and bashfulness all tangled together.
She wanted to push Yūto Shō away, but at that critical moment he buried his head deeper into her chest and bit down softly with his mouth, robbing her of any strength to resist for a long beat.
What shamed her most was discovering she didn't really want to push him off. Being pressed down by him felt comforting, reassuring even, and her palm—still clasped tight around him—couldn't bring itself to let go. That burning sensation, inexplicably, became something she wanted to keep.
Tachibana Hina froze for a moment, her heart hammering like a Pikachu thundershock, her mouth dry as parchment. Her fist stayed clenched, her expression caught between conflict and a quiet hint of satisfaction, brows and eyes soft with the bloom of spring.
….
Meanwhile, Yūto Shō—having just emptied himself—lay completely spent, draped weakly over her, motionless as a player who'd hit the end-of-stage cutscene.
Sensing the shift in him, Tachibana Hina slowly came back to herself. Her expression flickered, then a thread of tenderness wove through her gaze. She gently patted Yūto Shō's head and closed her eyes, choosing to play dead like a Pokémon faking faint.
The two remained pressed together, the air thick with the scent of hormones, only the sound of their breathing rippling through the quiet space.
Since Tachibana Hina, pinned beneath him, kept silent, Yūto Shō roughly read her stance and felt the tension drain out of him.
He didn't get up right away, still lazily draped over Tachibana Hina, savoring the comfort her voluptuous body offered, feeling genuinely satisfied down to the bone.
There was even an itch to go for round two—he was young, and one or two rounds rarely scratched the full itch.
But Yūto Shō reined himself in, knowing another move would be high-risk; Tachibana Hina would almost certainly catch on that something was off.
Beyond that, after pulling something like this, Yūto Shō had to figure out how to wrap the scene cleanly. Fortunately, Tachibana Hina didn't seem to dislike him, and their relationship had reached this point because of her suggestion in the first place.
…
After turning it over in his head for a while, Yūto Shō decided the timing was right. If he didn't get up soon, it would start tripping Tachibana Hina's suspicion flags.
With that, he pretended to just be coming back to his senses, let out a soft moan, spat out the nipple he'd been biting on, and lifted his face from Tachibana Hina's chest.
The motion immediately stirred her. The beautiful woman's body shivered, and her exposed fullness quivered along with it, the sight almost magnetic.
Tachibana Hina instinctively covered her chest with her hands and opened her eyes shyly, only to meet Yūto Shō's panicked expression. He looked at her like a kid who'd just broken curfew, helpless and stammering, "Hina-Nee, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I just...."
"Shō-Kun," Tachibana Hina blushed and cut him off, scolding softly, "Let me get up first."
Yūto Shō was still kneeling between her legs at that moment. Worse, he'd forgotten to zip his pants.
Realizing it, Yūto Shō's face flushed red. His first instinct was to zip up, but he was still riding the wave of excitement and couldn't get it done no matter how he tried, panic climbing.
Tachibana Hina noticed his fluster and snuck a shy glance, thinking—isn't this looking pretty healthy?
It was also her first time seeing one up close in real life. Embarrassed, she still couldn't help taking a closer look, marveling internally, wondering how on earth something like that was supposed to fit inside her body.
Yūto Shō caught her sizing him up and deliberately straightened his posture, while on the surface continuing his flustered-fumbling performance like a side character milking his screen time.
Tachibana Hina caught him peeking and her cheeks lit up. Embarrassed, she turned her head away, though her peripheral vision kept stealing little glances.
…
Yūto Shō didn't dare linger too long. After a beat he got his pants zipped, then stood and stepped back in convincing fluster.
Seeing it, Tachibana Hina exhaled in relief, tugged the clothes that had been pushed up to her neck back down, and sat up.
She glanced at her dirty right hand, shy gaze hiding a curl of curiosity, thinking quietly to herself—so this is what a man is like, full of so many different things.
Yūto Shō caught her studying her hand and looked mortified: "Sorry, Hina-Nee, I don't know what got into me just now. I'm such a beast, I'm not even human—just scold me, please."
Tachibana Hina snapped out of her thoughts, looked at the visibly shamed Yūto Shō, sighed, and said softly, "It's not on you. Noona was the one who let you touch her."
She knew she couldn't dump the blame entirely on Yūto Shō, because the original suggestion to touch her had come from her. But later, Yūto Shō caught feelings, and was desperate to prove he wasn't impotent. Add to that the reaction sparked from touching her—and in his urgency, he wanted to use her body to fully awaken his instincts.
…
After that came the usual harem-anime route: a vigorous young body, faced with the alluring outline of a beautiful woman, couldn't keep himself in check, and things rolled past the point of no return.
During the whole stretch, she'd had several openings to stop Yūto Shō from going further, but never spoke up. First, she genuinely wanted to help him reclaim his glory; second, she'd been left a little dazed by his actions and had quietly given tacit consent. By the end, she was completely scrambled, with no window left to stop him.
At the same time, the whole incident proved Yūto Shō was very healthy—but it left Tachibana Hina feeling even guiltier. Yūto Shō had gone impotent yesterday when intimate with his crush, yet today he was firing on all cylinders facing her. Her hand had clearly felt his vigor moments ago, and even at the final beat, he'd been rock-solid.
That was definitely not the signature of erectile dysfunction; the before-and-after gap basically confirmed Yūto Shō was likely hooked on her body, like a player rerolling characters because one stat hit different.
This part wasn't a problem in itself.
Tachibana Hina knew she was very attractive to men, and Yūto Shō's response to her was a normal physical reaction—nothing strange about that.
But the real issue was that after touching her delicate body, Yūto Shō had lost desire for the girl he once secretly liked, with zero reaction when intimate with her. How was that meaningfully different from being impotent?
The only gap between Yūto Shō and full impotence was that he could still respond to her body.
When Tachibana Hina landed on that conclusion, her heart churned, as if some strange current was threading its way straight through it.
Her pulse quickened, her cheeks flushed faintly pink, and she looked, in that moment, achingly beautiful—fingers absently smoothing the fabric over her thighs as she sat there, lost in the weight of what she'd just realized.