episode_0278

.

As always, the first attempt is the most terrifying.

Getting on a bicycle without training wheels.

Attempting to cook by following a video when boiling ramen is your pinnacle culinary skill.

Braving a dish you’ve never tasted before.

Receiving an academy uniform while being told—in the midst of being doted upon after being taken in from an orphanage, no, a childcare facility—that among kids your age, none were as sharp as you.

As always, the first attempt is the most terrifying.

And of course, that applied to sex with the opposite sex too.

Back when I wasn’t particularly close to Seo Woo-jin, even knocking on the infirmary door required long deliberation. But now, having crossed that line once, the threshold felt much lower.

—Are you free sometime soon? —Is this kind of place okay? —See you in a bit.

Just three short, simple exchanges, and the preliminary arrangements were settled.

All that remained was to head to the agreed-upon location later and resolve the unique “defect” inherent to a gumiho.

If I could manage that, today’s issue could be neatly resolved in about 20 minutes.

And going forward, I just needed to be careful to prevent the defect from recurring too often.

“……”

Logically, that was all there was to it.

But to think so cleanly and rationally…

…was impossible, because I was far more inexperienced than I’d realized.

…I hadn’t imagined something as ludicrous as jealousy would worm its way in between.

“—Ah, are you eating with those underclassmen again today?” —”Yeah. Probably.” —”What a shame. I’m a pretty cute underclassman too…”

The vice student council president, lying comfortably on the sofa while fiddling with a handheld console, tossed in a comment before returning to his game.

Ignoring the rhythmic tapping sounds emanating from the console, I sighed as I neatly stacked the approved budget allocation documents.

Jealousy.

To put it simply—resentment toward someone else.

It wasn’t a rare emotion.

If anything, it was fairly common.

Not as universal as joy, anger, sorrow, or pleasure, but just a tier below.

But no matter how much I thought about it, it wasn’t an emotion that should have existed between me, Seo Woo-jin, and Yozora.

I already knew Yozora and Woo-jin were involved like that.

And if someone asked whether I had romantic feelings for Woo-jin—no, that wasn’t it either.

For someone like me, who had no substance in her head and only chased after women, harboring affection for a guy like him was unthinkable.

Thus, the contradiction festered, unresolved.

Seo Woo-jin was exactly the type of man I despised most.

So why had I caught myself envying Yozora in that video yesterday?

If I tried to justify it by saying—her ass pressed flush against Woo-jin’s lower stomach looked so satisfying—

…Well, even that sentiment didn’t sit right with me.

That line of reasoning only made sense if I was some pervert like Yozora. Which I wasn’t.

I…

…was just an ordinary, normal person.

I didn’t even like sex that much.

“Ugh….”

The vexing thoughts subsided for a moment.

Pressing my fingertips against my eyelids to relieve fatigue, I grumbled at the vice president, still glued to his game.

Given the timing, only the two of us were in the student council room, so I raised my voice slightly more than usual.

—”Midterms are tomorrow. Should you really be doing that here?” —”Why not? Unless they’re grading all departments together, no summoner in our year’s coming close to my score.” —”You still shouldn’t let your guard down.” —”I’m fine. Really. Even if I slipped to second or third, I wouldn’t care. Fourth might sting a little, though?” —”…Are you staying here just because I’m around?” —”That’s part of it.”

But he made no move to leave the student council room.

Unlike the other diligent second-year officers, who had devoted today—the eve of midterms—to studying and training.

…Whatever.

I was tired of giving well-intentioned advice.

I wasn’t his mother, let alone his older sister.

His life was his own responsibility.

—”Huh? Senpai, where are you going?” —”Getting some fresh air.” —”Oh, then I’ll come with—” —”Too tired to deal with you. Stay.” —”…I’ll guard the fort. Got it.”

I shot a cold retort at the vice president, who was struggling to peel himself off the sofa, before quietly slipping out of the student council room.

11:45 AM.

Fifteen minutes remained until my verbal appointment with Woo-jin.

278

Though I had framed it as “counseling” in front of other students, the reality was, of course, sex.

Given that even uttering the word required gauging others’ reactions, our rendezvous had to meet stringent criteria: minimal foot traffic, quiet, inconspicuous enough to avoid raising eyebrows if spotted mid-transit, free from CCTV surveillance, and hygienically sound.

At a glance, such a place shouldn’t have existed within the academy. But surprisingly, a few locations came to mind.

The infirmary on non-peak assessment days.

The emergency staircase where I’d muffled my moans while masturbating last time.

And the student council room right before midterms.

But Woo-jin’s infirmary was packed with injured students, and using other, quieter infirmaries wasn’t viable—not all were under his jurisdiction.

The student council room, free from CCTV scrutiny, was out too, thanks to Yoo Si-woo sprawled on the sofa gaming.

That left only one option—the emergency staircase from before.

“…Huh?”

It was there.

A CCTV camera.

Before heading to the infirmary, I casually checked the staircase on patrol—then froze at the unexpected sight, staring blankly at the circular surveillance device.

Had it always been there? Probably not.

No matter how distracted I’d been, I wouldn’t have missed something so conspicuous while scouting the area.

And if it had been this obvious, that couple wouldn’t have sneaked in for sex before slipping away unnoticed.

Meaning this CCTV was a recent installation.

I wracked my brain trying to recall if any related documents had crossed the student council’s desk—nothing came to mind.

Had the vice president handled it without me?

Its sudden appearance suggested a quiet, swift initiative—likely spurred by couples getting caught in compromising positions here.

Locked in a silent battle with the lens, I turned away before whoever was monitoring could grow suspicious.

Drawing attention here would only cause trouble.

“…Now what?”

Back in the spacious hallway, I chewed over the problem.

The cramped staircase was out now that CCTV had eyes on it.

Though lunchtime was relatively quiet, the infirmary wouldn’t stay deserted long.

Like last year, the student council room—ideally silent—was occupied by Yoo Si-woo, someone I loathed more than Woo-jin.

Other options were scarce.

A secluded restroom?

No bed, no desk—what were we supposed to do, cling to the toilet?

An empty club room during class?

Lunch break was imminent, ethical concerns aside.

And I didn’t know the door lock codes.

…At this rate, resolving it on campus seemed impossible.

So my thoughts turned outward—off-campus.

And outside?

Of course.

“….”

A lodging facility.

Plenty of places in the downtown area fit every initial criterion.

…Well, we’d have to arrive separately to avoid rumors if spotted together…

But that wasn’t exactly difficult.

—”So this is what you decided on?” —”…Got a better idea?” —”Not really, but if these were your reasons, wouldn’t my place or yours have worked too?” —”Because… cleaning up afterward sounded like a pain….”

Lunch break.

Slipping away from the academy amid the student exodus, our separate paths converged at a shabby lodging facility far from campus.

…In other words, a…

…motel.

If it were a hotel, you’d call it a hotel, but I still didn’t get why these places were called “motels.”

Not like I could help it—I’d never set foot in either.

Beyond “one sounds proper, the other sleazy,” I barely knew the difference.

But admitting that was too embarrassing, so I scowled, arms crossed beneath my chest, as if urging him to hurry inside. Woo-jin chuckled like he’d heard something amusing.

—”What? Why are you laughing?” —”‘Cleaning up sounded like a pain.’ That’s cute. Usually, you’re all ‘I hate you,’ but here you are considering my convenience.” —”…It’s my convenience too, okay? Since we could’ve just used my place instead of yours…!” —”Yeah, yeah. Fair point.” —”Tch… Just hurry inside before someone sees us…!”

As Woo-jin had noted, the only person nearby was a middle-aged man passing through.

This wasn’t quite downtown, and the hour wasn’t prime motel time.

But the quiet was precious—so despite Woo-jin’s shameless demeanor, I shoved him inside before my embarrassment could flare.

—”Oh, it’s automated. Here.” —”…Are most staffed?” —”Dunno. Not exactly a motel connoisseur.” —”…Liar.” —”What can I say? No reason to visit.”

From behind, I watched the unfamiliar self-service kiosk.

Even my untrained eye could tell the place was deserted, stirring a quiet awkwardness.

Handing my ID to Woo-jin, who navigated the machine with ease despite his claimed inexperience, I balked at the key handed back—marked “Short Stay”—then followed Woo-jin inside.

The room number matched the key.

“….”

Distracted by debating who’d shower first, I overlooked a few rookie mistakes.

The walls were thinner than expected—keeping voices low was fine, but anything louder might carry to adjacent rooms.

And the taxi that had pulled up earlier…

—”S-Senpai… Didn’t you say we were just getting lunch…?” —”Mhm. Lunch. That’s what this is.” —”….” —”What? You don’t want to?” —”….” —”…Even after I went out of my way to bring you all the way here?” —”…N-No… I-I just… …fine….” —”…Good. That’s what I wanted to hear.”

…hadn’t been just one.

Or even two.

But three.