The layout of "Love and Love" was exactly what you'd expect from a love hotel:
Open the door → massive rectangular bed, headboard and ceiling fitted with mood lighting that could be turned on anytime for maximum ambiance.
The moment Satoru pushed the door open, Ayaka's mouth formed a perfect "O" behind him.
Sakura, hiding behind Ayaka, peeked in after her.
Her cheeks instantly flushed crimson, eyes wide like she'd discovered a new continent.
Only Satoru remained completely unfazed by the scenery.
He walked straight into the bathroom.
For extra "fun," the bathroom walls were transparent glass, but there was a curtain-like fabric you could draw for privacy.
Even if he showered inside, the two girls standing outside wouldn't have anything to be shy about.
In Satoru's mind: Men's toilets are always next to women's toilets. Men's baths next to women's baths. Men's changing rooms next to women's changing rooms. What's the big deal?
"There's hot water," Satoru announced.
Ayaka could not comprehend his calmness.
"Hey… you don't come to places like this often, do you?"
"Not often."
"???" Ayaka.
As a perfectly healthy young man back in his original world (nicknamed "Jiangnan Takeshi Kaneshiro"), of course he'd been to love hotels before.
Ayaka glanced at Sakura.
Sakura just gave a helpless little smile, no jealousy at all.
Ayaka was losing it internally.
We all agreed we were virgins—how come you're the only exception!? Why!!
But no matter how loud she screamed inside, she couldn't say it out loud.
Satoru was about to close the bathroom door.
Ayaka stopped him:
"I saw a washer outside. Give me your clothes, I'll dry them for you."
Satoru paused.
Ayaka immediately roared: "Don't get any weird ideas! Who'd be interested in your laundry!?"
Stop treating me like a pervert! she thought.
Rare moment of full sincerity.
Satoru thought about it—yeah, no other choice.
No spare clothes → two options:
Run naked to the laundromat. Let someone help.
He cracked the door open just enough.
Then tossed out the full set:
Hoodie → sweatpants → and…
Boxers.
"Tch, throwing stuff everywhere," Ayaka grumbled.
She calmly picked up the hoodie.
Calmly picked up the sweatpants.
Calmly picked up the boxers.
"…"
Quick glance at Sakura—who was still earnestly studying the room's interior design.
In one lightning motion, pa!, Ayaka stuffed the boxers into her own jacket pocket.
Confirmed Sakura hadn't noticed, then cleared her throat twice:
"I'll be right back. Sakura, stay put."
"Okay."
Sakura nodded obediently and sat on the bed.
This bed is huge. If our school trip hotels had beds like this, we could've passed out instantly after playing all day.
Then she noticed the nightstand drawer was slightly open.
Curious, she walked over, reached in, and pulled out…
A single round object in vacuum-sealed plastic packaging.
Letters on it.
Sakura read aloud, very seriously:
"O-ka-mo-to—"
Brain.exe crashed for two full seconds.
Japan's sex ed is thorough—even the purest girl knows exactly what this is.
She yelped, reflexively trying to yeet the cursed item away.
But the shock was too much—she fell backward onto the soft bed.
Something hard poked her butt.
Immediately after—
The giant TV opposite the bed lit up. First blue light, then—
"Ahhn~~?"
A woman's moan blasted from the speakers.
"!"
Sakura froze in absolute horror.
On screen: a completely naked woman striking lewd poses.
Followed by a cross-eyed, smirking man starting to undress.
Sakura slapped both hands over her eyes and whipped her head away.
Love hotels are notorious for thin walls.
Sudden clapping sounds from outside made Satoru, mid-shampoo, confused:
"Sakura-senpai? Did you accidentally turn on the TV?"
Love hotel TVs are… special. They autoplay "blockbusters."
The kind of blockbusters meant for adults.
"I-I don't know how to turn it off—!" Sakura sounded like she was about to cry.
Even without seeing, you could tell she was panicking hard.
Sakura, who barely watches TV at home, had no chance against a love hotel remote.
"Nn…" Satoru groaned.
What was he supposed to do?
Yell "Leave it to me!" and charge out butt-naked?
Even he couldn't bear that mental image.
"I-I'm going outside!!" Sakura declared.
Click, creak—door opened and slammed shut.
The moment she stepped out,
she locked eyes with the front-desk auntie who was hurrying over.
Auntie was genuinely worried.
They'd had threesomes before—one time two guys fought over who went first, police got called.
(Though that time it was two dragons, one phoenix…)
But even two girls couldn't be taken lightly.
Especially with a pretty boy like that—if auntie were thirty years younger, she'd fight tooth and nail for first dibs.
First round might be quick, but it's rock hard!
Then she saw Sakura—hands clasped over chest, face flaming, eyes spiraling.
"?"
Auntie was stunned.
So refined? They're even lining up?
Meanwhile, at the washing machine corner (no queue, because who comes to a love hotel to do laundry?),
Ayaka squatted in front of the machine, watching the water swirl, and sighed deeply.
"Sigh…"
When will I ever get to do the real thing?
As a girl, of course she knew outerwear and underwear should be washed separately.
Right now the machine had the outer layers.
As for the underwear—meaning those boxers.
Ayaka pulled them out of her pocket.
Stared quietly.
Linking underwear to a person's face is weird,
but Ayaka definitely saw Satoru's face.
…Face.
…Boxers.
…Face.
…Boxers.
She shook her head violently and repeated: Ayaka, you are not a pervert!
…As long as I don't get caught, it doesn't count, right?
Silence.
She kept staring at the boxers.
After a long, long time,
her eyes began to glaze over.
Slowly,
very slowly,
she brought the tip of her nose just a tiny bit closer…
…