Even so, Yukino Mifuyu had no intention of stopping.
Her cheeks were deeply flushed, eyes so glazed they seemed ready to drip with moisture—an expression of utter sensual abandon!
(At least hold back a little while on the phone…)
"If you're okay, then I'll head to school…"
"Wait!"
The moment he spoke, Yukino Mifuyu's body shuddered violently.
At the same time, the hand that had been secretly working between her legs suddenly clenched, fingers plunging deeper into the already-soaked valley.
Her entire body arched like a fully drawn bow; her slender waist lifted into a breathtaking curve, her full breasts heaving and trembling dramatically.
Right at the peak—
A transparent gush of fluid, accompanied by a short, stifled moan from deep in her throat, suddenly sprayed forth from between her legs.
"Nnah—!"
The volume was astonishing, soaking the light-colored sheets beneath her in an instant and spreading into a dark stain.
In that explosive moment of release, her body convulsed.
The powerful spurts lasted two or three seconds before gradually tapering into a trickle.
Completely spent, she collapsed back onto the rumpled bed like every bone had been removed, chest heaving as she gasped for air.
(She actually… climaxed right then?!)
Yuma's heart pounded wildly; the visual impact far surpassed everything before.
On the phone, only ragged, heated breathing remained. After several seconds, Yukino Mifuyu's voice returned—teary, utterly ashamed:
"S-Sorry! Yuma-kun! I… just now… accidentally… Anyway, I'm so sorry! Please wait a moment—I'll come open the door right away!"
Before he could reply, the call abruptly ended.
The black-haired boy stood there, listening to the dial tone, mind still replaying the shocking scene.
Yukino Mifuyu practically tumbled out of bed, legs still weak and unsteady.
She frantically stripped off the now-transparent nightgown, stuffed it into the laundry basket, then pulled a conservative white knit sweater from the closet and threw it on. She put on her usual black pencil skirt and blue coat.
No time for stockings, she hurried downstairs with unsteady steps, running her fingers through her disheveled hair on the way.
Ten seconds later, the door clicked open from inside.
Yukino Mifuyu appeared in the doorway, forcing her usual gentle smile, but it was stiff. The unnatural flush hadn't fully faded from her cheeks, and she avoided his eyes entirely.
Her breathing was still slightly quick, chest rising and falling subtly.
Though the sweater was modest, perhaps because she'd dressed in haste, the fabric was oddly bunched at the chest, drawing even more attention.
Beneath the pencil skirt, her long, shapely legs were completely bare, pale skin gleaming softly in the morning light.
[Yukino Mifuyu]
[Affection: 78 (A good neighbor… if her desires weren't so intense)]
This was the manifestation of his other ability—[Affection Visibility]. It allowed him to directly see how others felt about him, though sometimes it came with rather odd remarks.
"G-Good morning, Yuma-kun." Yukino Mifuyu's voice still carried a faint, barely noticeable tremor. She angled her body slightly, as if trying to hide something. "I'm really sorry for keeping you waiting."
"I was upstairs… tidying things up, and I got a little… absorbed. I didn't hear the doorbell."
She clumsily repeated her earlier excuse, every word dripping with obvious guilt.
As she spoke, her pale thighs unconsciously pressed together, the soft inner skin brushing lightly against each other—the sensation down there clearly hadn't fully subsided yet.
Yuma's gaze swept quickly over her.
The unnatural flush on her face, the evasive eyes, the slightly hurried breathing, and those long legs pressed together, subtly rubbing…
Every detail silently testified to the lingering afterglow of that "intense exercise."
In the air, there seemed to linger a faint, sweet, and ambiguously intimate scent.
The boy understood everything but showed no unusual reaction—just respect.
"Good morning, Yukino-san." He nodded slightly, his tone gentle and polite, as if the embarrassing gasps and sounds from the phone call had never happened.
"I'm glad you're okay. Your face still looks a little red, and your breathing seems quick—are you feeling unwell? Should I contact Mira-san or…"
His voice carried warm concern, but it only made Yukino Mifuyu even more uncomfortable.
"N-No! It's fine!" She reacted like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, hurriedly waving her hands to interrupt him, her voice rising from nerves.
Realizing her overreaction, she quickly lowered her tone and forced a smile. "It's really just… I got a bit tired from tidying. I'll be fine after resting. No need to bother Mira."
If the equally mature Tsubakihara Mira found out, everything she'd done today would be exposed!
"I see." Yuma gave a relieved smile, as if he completely believed her. "Then please rest well, Yukino-san. If you need anything, feel free to contact us—we're neighbors, after all."
He acted exactly like a caring, considerate good boy.
This "oblivious" innocence eased some of Yukino Mifuyu's tension, but the shame burned even hotter precisely because of his apparent ignorance.
"Mmm… thank you, Yuma-kun." She lowered her eyes, voice barely audible, fingers anxiously twisting the hem of her clothes. "Be careful on the road."
"Alright, I'll head to school now. Goodbye, Yukino-san."
Yuma nodded politely once more, turned, and left.
Only after walking a dozen meters and turning a corner did he finally exhale. He adjusted his black-rimmed glasses; a complicated glint flashed in the crimson eyes behind the lenses.
(Yukino Mifuyu…)
The woman's image in his mind had been completely overturned. Beneath that gentle, timid exterior lay something so overwhelmingly passionate.
He took a deep breath of the cool morning air, trying to dispel the faint heat rising again in his body from those memories.
(No more thinking about it. Time for school—there's the welcome ceremony today.)
Yuma temporarily sealed away this unexpected morning interlude, adjusted his breathing and demeanor, put on his flawless honor-student mask, and walked unhurriedly toward Yuqiu High School.
.
.
.
The early-spring breeze carried a slight chill, yet it couldn't fully dispel the subtle warmth lingering on Yuma's face—warmth only he could feel.
Walking up the slope toward Yuqiu High School, he deliberately kept his pace steady, trying to shake off the fragrant, chaotic scenes from that morning.
Yet Yukino-san's flushed cheeks lost in pleasure, her sweet gasps, and that final uncontrollable gushing moment kept flashing unbidden in his mind.
(Really… I lost composure.)
He pushed up his glasses and scolded himself inwardly.
This wasn't about Yukino Mifuyu—it was mild annoyance at his own momentary loss of control over his emotions and bodily reaction.
He took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the restlessness. Calm and restraint returned to his crimson eyes. The honor-student mask was once again perfectly in place, as if the boy who had peeked at a forbidden scene outside his neighbor's door and felt his heart waver had never existed.
Yuqiu High School, main building.
Yuma walked unhurriedly through the empty hallway, his brand-new uniform making his posture look upright. His expression was perfectly calm—no different from any ordinary freshman.
Though the ripples from that morning "accident" hadn't fully settled, he had locked them deep in his heart.
The gentle widow's drastically different private side, those vivid scenes still etched clearly in his memory.
He unconsciously raised a hand and lightly adjusted his black-rimmed glasses, as if confirming the disguise was secure.
(I need to focus. The welcome ceremony is what matters now.)
As the freshman representative who had entered Yuqiu with near-perfect scores, Yuma had to give a speech at the ceremony. He had memorized the draft perfectly; it was currently rolled up in his hand.
Just as he was about to pocket the paper and head to the gym backstage—
"Mm!"
A short exclamation accompanied a soft sensation from in front of him.
Yuma nearly collided full-on with the person coming toward him. A faint, elegantly sweet scent of white orchids instantly filled his nose.
He reacted extremely quickly—almost instinctively—plastering an utterly harmless honor-student expression on his face in half a second.
"I'm so sorry! I wasn't watching where I was going—are you okay?" He bowed steadily, tone full of sincere apology.
While speaking, his eyes quickly scanned the other person.
It was a strikingly graceful girl wearing an obvious upperclassman uniform.
The fitted blouse perfectly outlined her full, proud chest curves, while beneath the pleated skirt, a pair of long, evenly shaped legs were completely encased in fine-quality black pantyhose.
The black pantyhose clung tightly to her skin, meticulously tracing the seductive lines from plump thighs to slender ankles, gleaming with a soft, hazy sheen under the hallway lights.
Waist-length jet-black hair was smooth and glossy, held back by a conspicuous white headband that added a touch of intertwined purity and desire.
The girl's features were beautiful, but at the moment those lovely dark-red eyes looked at him with faint displeasure and scrutiny, her full lips lightly pressed together.
Also entering Yuma's view was the faintly visible text above her head.
[Name: Kasumigaoka Utaha]
[Affection: 30 (Stranger)]
(Kasumigaoka Utaha… the name sounds familiar.)
Thoughts raced through Yuma's mind, but his face remained apologetic.
Kasumigaoka Utaha gave a soft "hm" in response to his apology. She raised a hand to adjust her bangs, the motion carrying a hint of languid grace.
Those dark-red eyes glanced at him, pausing briefly on the fresh draft in his hand.
"You're this year's freshman representative?" Her voice sounded somewhat indifferent.
Yuma kept his humble smile and nodded slightly. "Yes, Kasumigaoka-senpai."
Hearing the boy correctly address her by surname, a barely noticeable flicker of surprise passed through Kasumigaoka Utaha's eyes.
She tilted her head slightly—an action that more clearly displayed the elegant line of her neck and a trace of her subtle fragrance—and reassessed this freshman who screamed "model honor student."
"Oh?" She drew out the sound playfully. "You know me?"
"Yes, Kasumigaoka-senpai. I saw your photo and name in the school's past freshman introductions. If I remember correctly, you were last year's freshman representative."
His smile blended respect and admiration perfectly, making Kasumigaoka Utaha feel a bit bored.
She had thought this year's representative might have some personality like usual, but instead it was another "template honor student."
[Name: Kasumigaoka Utaha]
[Affection: 30 → 25 (Finds you a bit boring)]
"I see." Her tone clearly cooled; the faint interest sparked by learning he was the freshman representative seemed to vanish instantly.
Kasumigaoka Utaha shifted slightly to the side, her long legs encased in tight black stockings taking half a step as if preparing to leave, leaving only a flat remark:
"Then you'd better read it exactly as written, Mr. Freshman Representative."
The words sounded like standard senior advice to a junior, but Yuma detected a hint of perfunctory dismissal.
Yet the fake smile on his face didn't waver at all.
"I understand. Thank you for the advice, Kasumigaoka-senpai."
Kasumigaoka Utaha nodded lightly at that, said nothing more, and walked away. Her indoor shoes made crisp, rhythmic sounds against the floor as her figure gradually disappeared around the corner.
The faint, elegant white-orchid scent faded with her.
Only after confirming she was completely gone did Lin Qianxia slowly straighten up.
The smile on his face gradually thinned. He glanced down at the speech draft in his hand, then looked toward the direction Kasumigaoka Utaha had gone.
[Name: Kasumigaoka Utaha]
[Affection: 25 (Finds you a bit boring)]
The affection number in his vision was clear and steady.
Yuma adjusted his black-rimmed glasses; his gaze behind the lenses was calm and undisturbed.
Boring, huh?
Perfect.
He didn't want to draw any unnecessary attention.
Especially not from a seemingly troublesome senpai with likely sharp observation skills.
A rule-following, excellent but personality-lacking bookworm freshman representative was currently his ideal persona mask.
Yuma looked down at the rolled speech draft in his hand, his fingertips unconsciously rubbing the edge of the paper.
Freshman representative…
The title sounded impressive, but only he knew that this "honor" wasn't entirely earned through pure diligence and talent.
To be fair, Yuma's grades were genuinely good. He studied hard enough and had solid comprehension—if he followed the normal path, getting into a good university wouldn't be difficult.
But "perfect science scores, near-perfect liberal arts"—that almost monstrous level was far beyond a normal "honor student."
Yuma's astonishing results relied entirely on his somewhat improper superpowers.
[Time Stop] gave him unlimited study and exam time, while [X-Ray Vision] let him easily see and compile others' answers during tests.
With these abilities, achieving such scores was trivially easy.
Of course, he didn't limit their use to academics—like outside Yukino-san's house before school, or…
(Black lace… quite bold. It really matches my first impression of Kasumigaoka-senpai.)