Ch. 18 - Afternoon Tea “Date” with Shihou

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Hoshikawa-kun…”

After Harutaki had been idly scrolling his phone beneath the school gate’s cherry tree for about five minutes, a voice as sweet as sakura mochi drifted over. He turned, and there she was, a princesslike figure standing tall amidst falling petals: Shihou Chouko.

“Not long at all. Just thirty minutes.”

“Eh!?”

Eyes wide, Chouko fumbled for her phone. A dolphin charm dangled from her silicone case, bouncing with her every move like it was leaping through the sea.

16:06.

“Good grief… with a line like that, Hoshikawa-kun, you make it impossible for me to even feel apologetic.”

Her cheeks puffed out adorably as she tucked the phone away and shot him a mock glare.

“Then I’ll buy you another slice of cake.”

“A single slice is nowhere near enough to buy me off.”

The nearest Starbucks was just across the intersection. Soon, the two of them sat at a small table for two, drinks and sweets between them: two Frappuccinos, one scone, one tiramisu.

“…Isn’t it weird? Drinking something ice-cold before summer even arrives?”

With a straw thicker than her fingers, Chouko poked playfully at the whipped-cream mountain atop her drink.

“Feels strange.”

“Eating ice cream in winter has its own charm.”

Slurp.

After a sip, Harutaki added casually: “Things a little unconventional are often more fun than things by the book, don’t you think?”

“You don’t seem like the unconventional type, though.”

Without breaking her elegant smile, Chouko scooped up a dainty bite of tiramisu.

“…I can be. Or not.”

His answer was vague, but his eyes locked with her pale-gold gaze.

“For example, confessing to Nogami-san?”

Her brows curved into crescents, and the look she gave him made Harutaki draw a sharp breath.

Strange. She wasn’t as untouchably “sacred” as he’d first believed.

From her dreamy aura when she helped him move his desk, to the noble grace she seemed to embody… he’d thought that was her nature. But maybe it was all a mask.

That loosened tie when she stepped out of the bathroom, the flushed cheeks—

Was she hiding her real self?

“To be precise, it was Nogami-san who wouldn’t stop chasing after me.”

“Eh?”

“Always insisting I become her dog.”

He crossed his arms, lifted his chin with exaggerated arrogance, and glanced sidelong at Chouko, mimicking Nogami’s haughty posture.

“‘Pant like a mongrel stray and wag your tail for me, peasant.’”

“Pfft—”

Chouko clapped a hand over her mouth, laughter spilling through her fingers.

“That’s spot on! Careful, if Nogami-san hears you, she’ll explode.”

Then, her expression softened with worry.

“I saw what was posted on the forum too… Nogami-san went too far. Are you… okay?”

“…Depends.”

Straightening, Harutaki looked her in the eye.

“Do you mean the story about me confessing and getting bullied? Or the one about me and my ex—”

“Pfft—cough, cough!”

Chouko nearly choked on her Frappuccino, caught between laughter and mortification. She coughed prettily into her hand until she recovered.

Silence settled between them, filled only by the sounds of sipping and clinking utensils. At last, in a whisper:

“…Is it true?”

“It is.”

“Eh—!”

Her eyes widened in shock.

He admitted it? So easily?

“…You’re lying, right?”

“Of course. Just teasing you, Shihou-san.”

“Mean!”

“Think about it. No ex-girlfriend, yet people spread rumors that I slept with one. And me confessing to Nogami-san? Not happening.”

He spread his hands in exasperation.

“Honestly, it makes more sense to say I confessed to you, and when Nogami-san heard, she felt outshone by you. That bruised ego turned into bullying. Doesn’t that theory sound more plausible?”

“…I jumped to conclusions. Sorry.”

She bowed her head politely, embarrassed.

“And since I don’t even have an ex, I can prove it. Want to check my LINE?”

Unlocking his phone, he opened LINE and handed it over.

By all logic, she should have declined and said she trusted him. But curiosity, and a mischievous urge to catch him off guard, overrode propriety.

Harutaki’s LINE list was barren. Frighteningly barren. Four conversations total.

The first: “Murai.” She remembered Murai Ren, the class rep who’d asked her to be vice.

Already, peeking felt horribly rude. Could she really open his chats?

Her finger hovered uncertainly.

Then she recalled his words:

“Things a little unconventional are often more fun than things by the book.”

…Just this once.

Besides, doing this right in front of him, what if she found something strange? Something scandalous? The thrill made her heart race.

The first chat, with Murai, was harmless: a salon recommendation.

Disappointing.

But the second, its avatar looked like the kind a girl might use. Hope rekindled.

Maybe a secret. A fetish. Something to tease him with.

She tapped it. The contact name: [Chiaki].

And then froze.

[Image] — Read

[Here you go, Chiaki. What do you think?] — Read

The photo: a mirror selfie. Harutaki, shirtless. Only a pair of shorts preserved any modesty. His toned body was on display, sharp lines suggesting a college athlete rather than a high schooler.

But Chouko’s eyes weren’t on his muscles.

They were on the shorts.

When everything else was bare, the one patch of fabric drew all attention.

Her hand flew to her lips, cheeks blazing red, pale-gold eyes widening. She even forgot to breathe.

It was just a still image, yet she worried that in the next second, the fabric might give way.

Meanwhile, watching her growingly bizarre expression, Harutaki blinked, then realization slammed into him.

He’d forgotten to delete that selfie he’d sent to Chiaki!

“Sh–Shihou-san, wait, let me explain—!”

“Hoshikawa-kun, didn’t you just say you don’t have a girlfriend?”

With lips pressed into a pout, Chouko handed back his phone, the screen gone dark. Her fists were clenched tightly, pressing into the hem of her skirt.

“Chiaki is my little sister… I have three younger sisters. She’s the second.”

“Hmph, don’t try to fool me. What kind of brother sends that sort of photo to his sister?”

Her mouth pursed in doubt, eyes suspicious. Harutaki sighed and pulled up a family photo from his gallery, holding it out as proof.

“See? That boy is me. The pink-haired girl’s my eldest sister. And the black-haired little one beside her, that’s Chiaki.”

“No way… Hoshikawa-kun really has three sisters that cute? That’s so unfair. But still…”

She leaned forward over the table, peering at him from the other side of the phone, voice full of puzzled suspicion.

“Why would an older brother send his little sister… that kind of picture?”

“Well, I was hoping you could enlighten me, too. Forgive the rude question, Shihou-san.”

Rude? About what—?

Before she could piece the thought together, his words landed like a pebble dropped into still water:

“At our age… do girls have strong urges in that area?”

“H-Hoshikawa-kun! Asking a girl something like that is way out of line!”

She scolded him with all the courage she could muster, but inside, panic churned.

Had he… noticed?

But no, no—besides her undone tie and collar that morning, there shouldn’t have been any other slip-ups.

Still… if he did realize, and decided to use it as leverage for all kinds of things… guh…

“You’re the one who asked why I’d send a photo like that to my sister.”

“Y-you mean… your sister wanted it to… to use for… that!?”

The sudden switch to formal speech betrayed her fluster.

From Harutaki’s point of view, Chouko's surprise was probably because his sister, Chiaki, would go to her own brother for selfies for material. But in reality—

So there are other girls who do this too!

Because she had no close friends she could really confide in, Chouko had always been hazy about such matters. But hearing that his sister did the same made her pulse quicken, like she’d found a secret comrade-in-arms.

Still, now that she thought about it, that photo had felt oddly familiar…

Where had she seen it before? And when?

They’d only officially met this morning, hadn’t they…?

With that thought lingering, Chouko popped the last bite of tiramisu into her mouth, dabbed away cream and crumbs with a napkin, and bowed gracefully.

“Thank you, Hoshikawa-kun. I truly enjoyed this afternoon tea.”

“No, thank you. And I owe you for helping me this morning. I hope I can invite you again sometime.”

He bowed in return, already scheming to make this “date” not the last. Once there was a first, the second, third, and so on would be much easier.

Besides, from this tea-time alone, he could sense it: Chouko wasn’t quite the flawless angel she appeared to be.

After all, could anyone really be that perfect?

Gentle, elegant, polite, composed—and beautiful to boot, a model-class schoolgirl idol…

Dream girls are called “dreams” for a reason. They don’t really exist in the waking world.

“I’ll have to stop by the restroom. Sorry to trouble you, Hoshikawa-kun, but please go ahead without me.”

“Then… see you tomorrow, Shihou-san.”

“See you tomorrow, Hoshikawa-kun.”

They parted ways outside the café. Harutaki walked home.

But in the Starbucks restroom stall—

“…I knew it was him.”

Face flushed, breath uneven, Chouko sat on the disinfected toilet lid, staring at the chat log glowing on her phone. Unknowingly, her left hand had slipped beneath her skirt.

The same taut muscle lines. The same lean build. Even the shape of the navel—

So Hoshikawa-kun was none other than the [Harutaro] who’d followed her Twitter alt and sent her private selfies to “feed” her.

Her heart surged with both relief that his looks matched her tastes perfectly and a heady thrill at the thought of doing something so taboo with a classmate.

Sorry, Onii… But using Harutaki’s selfies to “charge up” doesn’t really count as betrayal, right?

And anyway… that idiot Onii ignored her for so long. Why should she still hold back for his sake?

Still, that was close. Too close. Better to be careful from here on.

Thinking so, she dove into Settings → Privacy, locked her account, cleaned away the stray followers, and left only one: [Harutaro]. She enabled “followers only” viewing for good measure.

“Luckily, it was just Hoshikawa-kun. I need to be more cautious, or someone else might figure it out…”

After all, she’d already run away from home to attend school in Tokyo. If another scandal made its way back, her grandmother would drag her off to the family estate, locked away until her marriage was arranged.

She couldn’t let that happen.

But still… if Hoshikawa-kun didn’t play along, her secret-account escapades lost all their spark.

[Harutaro] was such a closed jar; without prodding, he wouldn’t even send a shirtless selfie.

Who’d have thought the glib, smooth-talking Hoshikawa at school was so shy online?

In that case… maybe she should take the lead.

An impish smile curled across Chouko’s perfect features.

[Image]

[Tsunako_JK2@alt: Harutaro-kun, rules are rules. Your turn to send one back ♥]

The photo, shot from above: her collar loosened, two buttons undone, right hand flashing a V-sign… and the camera centered squarely on the ripe E-cup curves beneath her uniform blouse.

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