episode_0069

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If I had to categorize myself, I was the type who saved the best for last.

The strawberry on top of the cake.

The main side dish in a lunchbox.

The chashu in ramen.

Rather than shoving them into my mouth while I was still hungry, I preferred to savor them on my tongue at the very, very end.

“Endure bitterness, reap sweetness.”

After forcing down the unpleasant parts, the reward that had been swelling up—

Pop.

—finally landed on my tongue as a gift.

And this preference of mine wasn’t limited to just appetite.

The same went for lust.

The thrill of forcing physical contact on the hero who had tried to kill me the moment she saw my face.

A few days later.

The thrill of watching the hero’s face, which had been snarling that she felt nothing, gradually twist in pleasure and confusion.

A few days later.

The thrill of seeing the hero, who would’ve kicked me away without hesitation before, gulping nervously as she stared at my erect cock resting on her lower stomach.

A few days later.

“I’ll kill you.”

“Get it out. Now.”

“You disgusting fucking bastard.”

The thrill of hearing the hero spew every curse imaginable—her mouth running nonstop—while secretly slamming her hips back against me.

A few days later.

The thrill of watching the hero, who had lunged at me in a fit of rage to get revenge, get overpowered in the most absurd way possible.

Finally.

The thrill of seeing the unmistakable hero—

—her loose clothes,

—pitch-black mask,

—and hat tightly concealing her identity—

—knock carefully on my front door.

The thrill of locking the door behind her, tossing her mask and hat to the floor like unwrapping a present, and beginning a touch driven purely by lust.

…Well, forget the last part—I hadn’t even gotten past the first step.

In fact, if you really thought about it, it was more like “reap sweetness after sweetness” than anything else.

But isn’t it so much better to whet your appetite with something delicious,

devour something even more delicious afterward,

and finish with something even more delicious than that?

So.

I was looking forward to it.

When Lee Jiyoon—who had started sneaking around with me under the worn-out excuse of “practice”—

heard the sound of me kissing her sister.

What would she be thinking, all alone at home?

“…….”

…Probably not,

“I’m glad the practice paid off.”

69

Snow had been falling since dawn today.

Not the soft, fluffy kind, but still pretty, thick flakes.

Winter was mostly over, and it was already early March—how much colder did it plan to get…?

Honestly, I just wanted to stay buried under my blanket and read comics.

“Sigh….”

But as Hanseol Group’s promotional model,

a dumbass who couldn’t even handle the easiest of studies,

I had a duty to diligently build a good image for the group at the academy today…

“Ugh….”

But it was such a pain.

Ignoring the alarm blaring beside me, I lay facedown on my bed until the housekeeper came in, forcibly woke me up, and told me I’d be late for school. Still half-asleep, I stumbled straight to the shower.

Too tired for proper makeup, I just slapped on some cushion foundation.

No time to even dry my hair properly, let alone style it, so I roughly blow-dried the roots and tied it back.

…Maybe because I’d rushed the drying, today it kinda looked like a lion’s mane.

My naturally drowsy eyes.

A face that gave off a laid-back vibe, even if what was inside wasn’t.

Hair curling wildly from being half-dried.

And the light brown color.

Hmm…

Hmmmm…

Standing in front of the mirror, I shook my head side to side, briefly entertaining some otaku-like thoughts before letting out an undignified yawn. I threw on a white long padded coat and left my officetel.

About ten minutes later.

At a crowded crosswalk.

“Gooood morni—”

I cautiously greeted Yozora, who was busy stomping on the crisp snow.

At first, I considered greeting her in Japanese from a distance, but I quickly dismissed the idea.

The reason was simple.

Too otaku-like.

Even someone like me, who had zero friends, knew that kind of image usually backfired in social situations.

For now, “I kinda like comics” was enough.

That level wasn’t otaku.

As long as the otaku games hidden in the corner of my phone stayed hidden, I’d be fine.

“Ah, Sua-chan.”

What if she didn’t hear me? Nervously waiting, I was relieved when Yozora turned with a bright smile and met my eyes.

Matching her innocent grin, I casually slipped into place beside her.

Maybe because I’d struggled with my hair earlier,

Yozora’s long hair, reaching past her waist, looked especially inconvenient today.

…Should I bring that up as a conversation starter?

No. Would Yozora find it boring?

Fun topics… What would work?

Comic talk?

Would that seem too otaku?

No, Yozora said she liked comics too…

Ah, should I just say I read what she mentioned yesterday?

Maybe even lie and say I liked it?

Honestly, I’d rather just talk naturally about whatever came to mind,

but in practice, that never worked. After agonizing over conversation topics,

“Hey. Yozora.”

“Hm?”

The crosswalk light turned green.

Amid the synchronized footsteps of the crowd, my voice slipped in.

“Um… about that comic you mentioned yesterday… I read it…”

“Ah, really?”

Yozora’s voice was noticeably brighter as she responded to my hesitant words.

Nice.

This reaction had to be at least a 90/100.

If she just said something like “It was fun, right?” we could wrap this up smoothly.

That was the plan.

“Did you finish the whole thing? The comic?”

“Huh? Ah, yeah. All of it.”

Until Yozora’s eyes started sparkling,

and she asked—somehow with much clearer pronunciation than yesterday—

“So you saw the sex scene too…! Mph—!”

“Hey, Yozora, we’re in public…!”

Until she outright yelled “SEX” in the middle of a mixed-gender crosswalk,

and I clamped my hand over her mouth, feeling the stares of everyone around us.

“……Pfft. You saw the part where she was lying face down, trembling, right?”

“……”

Until Yozora pulled my hand away like adjusting a mask,

and cheerfully, clearly, in Korean—like a child—said,

“You saw it, right?”

I think that’s how it went.

Though I panicked and forgot most of it.

“I… I did. Yeah.”

“You saw it… You saw it……”

“Lewd stuff is bad.”

Was she laughing because it was funny that I, who’d taken that stance, read it all in one day?

Yozora stuffed her hands deep into the pockets of her pitch-black hoodie, grinning up at me.

I was just embarrassed that someone my age knew less about sex than an elementary schooler, so I skimmed through it…

And after finishing, I just thought, “What is this? Gross. Perverted.” and closed it…

Given Yozora’s unexpectedly intense reaction, if I were honest, she’d probably be crushed.

Did she really like dirty comics that much?

“…No choice.”

As embarrassing as it was, I had to keep up the act.

For a moment, I stared into her slightly stickier-than-yesterday crimson eyes.

Noticing the crowd had thinned, I lowered my voice.

“It was… fun. The comic.”

“Yeah? Which part?”

“Not any specific part… Just overall?”

“…Hehe.”

My barefaced lie made Yozora flap her hoodie sleeves like a penguin.

…Guess the truth would have to wait until we were much closer.

“What about the last part? How was that?”

“…How was it?”

“Did it turn you on?”

“Turn me—”

My words jammed at Yozora’s blatant vocabulary.

At the same time—

Crunch.

The sound of stepping on piled snow.

Then, my vision tilted sharply.

Until—

Thud.

I toppled over.

“You okay?”

“Ugh…”

Peeking back, I saw three or four muddy footprints clearly stamped into the snow pushed to the roadside.

I was sure I’d been walking in the middle of the sidewalk just a second ago…

Guess I staggered in shock from Yozora’s words.

“Did it turn you on?” Where the hell did she learn Korean like that?!

Why would she say that out of nowhere and fluster me?!

While my scraped palms and knees stung,

the stares of men who’d clearly seen everything but pretended not to burned even sharper.

My stockings were snagged too…

Eventually, the arrow of humiliation pointed straight at Yozora.

“Yozora, it’s because you keep saying stuff like that…!”

“What stuff…? Ah, the comic?”

I immediately stood up and nodded.

Then, still wearing a mischievous smile, Yozora spoke again—

Clearly.

Exaggeratedly clear, like a news anchor—in Korean.

“There’s that scene where she screams, ‘I’m gonna die, it’s too much,’ hugging the pillow tight, trembling, while he grabs her bruised ass and pounds into her like crazy, right?”

“……”

“The last scene.”

“……”

“Did it turn you on?”

“……”

Syllable. By syllable.

With every strange Korean word from Yozora’s mouth, my eyes darted around.

Luckily, no one was close enough to hear our conversation.

The people near me when I fell had all hurried ahead like they’d made a pact.

Only a few office workers shuffled in the distance.

…This is insane.

Is it because she’s Japanese? Are they just more open about this stuff?

Wait, is this a racist thought?

My panicked mind spiraled.

Erasing the final scene Yozora had described, I whispered,

“H-Hey. Yozora?”

“Yeah. Sua-chan.”

“I don’t really get that stuff…”

“……”

“Sorry… I… I don’t know if it turned me on…”

I couldn’t even lie and say I liked it.

If I played along and said it turned me on, Yozora would probably see through the lie soon enough.

…I just wanted to end this crude, vulgar conversation already.

So I was honest.

“……”

“……”

Luckily, Yozora’s smile hadn’t faded.

…No.

If anything, she looked even more amused than before.

Well.

I don’t get it…

My palms hurt…

The file I sent yesterday.

It couldn’t have taken more than three seconds for the “read” receipt to appear, so why no reply?

Early in the morning, fiddling with my phone in the infirmary, I let out a disappointed sigh.

She must’ve seen it immediately after I sent it, but Lee Jiyoon had been completely “normal.”

After her karaoke date with Lee Hayoon, she’d gone home and started gaming—same as always.

Same usual briefing.

Same usual small talk.

Same usual goodbye.

And that was it.

Jiyoon showed no change at all until this morning.

“…Weird.”

Maybe she was upset.

In reality, it was closer to stealing her sister’s boyfriend,

but from Jiyoon’s perspective, she might’ve thought it was some secret romance.

Or maybe she got turned on.

She practiced kissing with me, then kissed Hayoon.

She practiced sex with me, so she’d have sex with Hayoon.

In that consistent flow, the thrill of taking me before her sister under the guise of “practice.”

That might’ve excited her.

There could’ve been other reactions too,

but with no response, it was all just baseless speculation.

Was this my first mistake?

Should I adjust my approach now?

Or wait a few more days to see how things unfold?

Spinning my phone between my fingers, I set it down on the desk.

Knock knock.

Someone was at the infirmary door.