Agrippa
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All right! Fine! I will take you! – Chapter 4
🕑 Added 2021-08-18 06:40:20 +0000 UTCThe nurse’s office is a deceitful oasis. It is often seen as a place for the main character to arrive, maybe after a minor scrape or sprain, and find a love interest who is there for pretty much any other weak excuse that most people would just walk off. The ever negligent (mature, beautiful, stacked) nurse will irresponsibly leave them alone or never have been there in the first place, and the girl will care for the male lead (bonus points if she needs to handle his leg), thus convincingly showing off the appeal of a mothering, caring side and giving the doujin authors an excuse to put her in a nurse uniform. Just kidding, they don’t need any excuses.
In works of a spicier nature, the girl will find the male lead while he is napping (a thing that, obviously, is perfectly tolerated in the otherwise strict Japanese education system—must be due to our Spanish roots), sit beside him worried about his fever or stress or whatever, and inexplicably end up hiding from a third party by hiding under the blanket with him. It is thus established that, while the nurse’s office may offer a sanctuary of sorts, it is far from inviolable and must be avoided at all costs by people with legitimate reasons to be there, who should remain home or go to an actual clinic where they are less likely to be disturbed by shenanigans unsuited to speed along the healing process.
It is thus very fortunate that I don’t have any legitimate reason to be here, even if my sweat-drenched appearance, raw breathing, and flushed face were enough to convince my own unduly careless nurse to give me permission to lie on the cot for the morning periods.
Truly, an active sex life is full of unsuspected advantages.
So, Hachiman, now that you have secured yourself a safe(ish) spot to lay low for a while, what do you intend to do?
…
Fine, you aren’t giving me much to work with, Hachiman. Subconscious-kun, any suggestions?
…
Right. My subconscious also doesn’t know how to handle complicated romantic situations. As expected. Let’s just go over the objective facts and then try to draw any kind of conclusion:
1) I just had oral sex with Shizu (insert overwhelming, standing ovation).
2) I was caught in the act by a suspiciously enthusiastic Iroha (confused clapping).
3) Shizu knows we were caught. Still hasn’t reacted, as she had to hurry to class (crickets).
4) Iroha herself has shown me she has “documented” the event before disappearing without another word (confused screaming).
5) My first period was Japanese, with Shizu as my teacher and Yuigahama sitting right there (panicked screaming).
6) For the first time in my life, I have skipped a class without reason. I am now a juvenile delinquent and will grow my hair into a pompadour. I will follow your teachings, Onizuka-sensei! (Vociferous ovation.)
Or, in other words, I am a coward who has fled the confrontation before it can even spark.
Sigh. Still thinking about the pompadour, to be honest.
Right, it is only cowardly if I don’t come up with any strategy to confront my problem; otherwise, it is the Joestar family’s secret technique. Which leads me right back around to pompadours. It is looking like a better idea by the minute.
Stop it with the escapism. I need to confront Iroha, reassure Shizu, straighten things up with Yukinoshita and Yuigahama and make sure Komachi dies an old spinster. That last one is non-negotiable.
Regarding Iroha, there is little I can plan for other than trying to be stern with her after she has graphically documented my sloppy, orgasming face. Which I predict will go smoothly and without any kind of awkwardness. Shizu will be more easily reassured if I know what the deal with the Strongest Junior is before I speak with her, so, of all my current issues, I can only plan what to do about Yukinoshita and Yuigahama. Which means going to have lunch at the club room and hoping one of them is there, because there is no way I can face them in any public setting as things stand. They will likely still be hung up on the whole prom issue, because (hopefully) no torrid romance with an older teacher will have derailed their lives since yesterday.
NTR is a shit fetish.
Harem is also a shitty genre, yes, but I am proud to be called a hypocrite when it suits me, and not at all when it doesn’t. That’s what being a hypocrite means, you know?
And thus, once I have finished the Herculean task of deciding where I will eat my lunch, the bell sounds and signals it is time for me to enact my “plan.”
Argh.
It is with the heavy steps of a doomed man that I make my way to the club room, opening the unlocked door with resignation at seeing my hopes of it being empty so cruelly dashed.
It is with the heartbeat of a racing horse that I confront the inhabitants of the room: the kuudere Yukinoshita, the genki girl Yuigahama, and the foxy, smirking, smug Isshiki.
The Joestar family’s secret technique is looking pretty good at the moment.
I enter the room as nonchalantly as I can, waving the customary two fingers of cool, hip, detached characters everywhere, only to find my gaze drawn to Iroha crossing her arms under her chest, a smirk on her face that seems to say, ‘Oh? You’re approaching me? Instead of running away, you are coming right to me?’
Unfortunately, I am still in my larval phase as a juvenile delinquent, so I don’t have a cool, brash rejoinder to defiantly spout—and I don’t think threatening to beat the shit out of her would be particularly acceptable in the current political climate. Though I do sputter, in case it counts for something.
“Hikigaya,” Yukinoshita greets me with her customary tone detached of any obvious emotional response. Yuigahama, instead, mutters a happy “Hikky!” that manages to convey worry at having missed me in the morning period with relief at seeing I am fine and dandy. All right, just ‘fine,’ never ‘dandy.’
Iroha, instead…
“Oh, Senpai, it is so good to see you come here. It saves me the trouble of running around looking for you.” Dammit, woman, show some restrain!
“Did you agree to meet?” Yukinoshita asks, innocence unmarred by the demon in human guise sitting across from her.
“No, we just keep crashing into each other. You know, Senpai is so forceful…” she trails off, eyes lidded, smirk pointed. I hurry to sit down on my chair. For no reason. At all.
“Hikki is? I guess he can be a bit overbearing…” Yuigahama mutters. Bless your innocent, empty head, Yuigahama. Your skill at not reading between the lines is a national treasure.
“Oi, how about not speaking about me as if I am not right here?” I try for ‘nonchalant,’ I hope I don’t hit ‘whiny.’
“Ah, you were here, Hikigaya? I apologize, it seems you are as forgettable as ever.” Yukinoshita, how about toning the abuse while all the sexual tension is still swimming around my brain? I don’t want to pick up any weird fetish, you know?
I grumble a bit in response as I take out my lunchbox, hoping against hope things won’t get any more awkward (for me), and start eating the plain rice that is a staple of proper Japanese meals. No, it’s not because I am awful at coming up with ways to flavor it. Truly.
Tee-hee.
“You have trouble remembering him, Yukinoshita? I have some photos you could look at, if you need a reminder,” Iroha says, once again managing to destroy all of my hopes and dreams just as I come up with them. I shoot a look at her, trying to silence her and/or kill her with my latent psychic powers, and she flashes me her smartphone from beneath the table.
Oh, psychic suppressors are a thing. Who would have known.
“Isshiki, while I commend you on proactively gathering evidence for the inevitable police case file, I should remind you I am currently eating,” Yukinoshita says, crossing the line. Twice.
“Right, that’s my daily quota of mental abuse done with, thank you very much for being so diligent.”
“Don’t even mention it, Hikigaya, I am always ready to go above and beyond for your sake.” How heartwarming; I think I am even getting heartburn already.
“Likewise, Senpai, I just enjoy seeing you struggling to hold back.” For fuck’s sake, Isshiki, knock it off!
“Uh… I feel like I should be joining in. You are creepy, Hikki? Is that fine?”
… This may be the most gentle way somebody has ever called me creepy. Truly, you are a saint, Yuigahama.
A saint of what, I better not tell.
“It is perfectly all right not to join in, Yuigahama, no need to compete with others when you belong in your own special category,” I reassure her sincerely and without any ill-intentions.
“I think I should be mad at that, but I am not sure why.” Yuigahama frowns cutely while pondering her dilemma. Ah, how soothing it is to watch her struggle. Wait, is Isshiki corrupting me?
Anyway, that’s enough foreplay.
… Dammit, brain…
I sigh and (somewhat) square my shoulders before facing my clubmates (plus intruder). I am still not sure how to handle this, but…
“So, about the prom,” I say, and they all stiffen.
“About the prom?” Yukinoshita answers primly and properly, no joking hidden under the icy veneer.
“What are you planning?”
“I will suitably address each and every one of the points raised by the PTA and make a counterproposal they will have no issue with.”
“You know that won’t work. The objection is an excuse to attack the very concept; you cannot make them change their minds just by addressing the excuses without attacking the root cause of the issue.”
“And what would be that ‘root cause?’”
“Respectability. Image. They don’t want the school associated with teenagers dancing and having fun like in some kind of American comedy with probably raunchy undertones.” Brain! Tone it down, for fuck’s sake!
‘But, Hikigaya-kun, we just got our first blowjob and caught our cute junior possibly getting off to the thrill of watching us getting our cock slobbered on by our beautiful Christmas Cake teacher! You can’t expect me not to be stuck on the subject of sex, especially while said junior is looking at us while licking the tip of her index finger!’
Of course I can expect you to—wait, she’s doing what?!
Yuigahama is looking between Yukinoshita and I while wringing her hands, always anxious about seeing her friends clash. Yukinoshita is icily staring me down, daring me to come up with something as underhanded as I always do. And Isshiki is, in fact, looking at me with lidded eyes while licking the very tip of her index finger in a way that may, somehow, to the casual observer, pass as a nervous tick rather than something a twin-tailed blonde in a cheerleader’s uniform would practice on a lollipop.
I cough loudly. I read somewhere it’s a way to get rid of unwanted erections.
The internet has lied to me. Again.
“Hikki? Are you all right?” Yuigahama interjects with tender concern, her big eyes searching mine in a way that makes it obvious when my gaze drops down to the small expanse of creamy skin exposed by the first few undone buttons of her uniform. I look up as soon as I catch myself, but her cheeks still redden in a way that makes me want to look hard enough to make her squirm.
…
I may not need an adult, but I think she does.
“Just… fine. I am feeling a bit out of sorts this morning,” Isshiki stifles a snort of laughter and I resist the urge to glare at her. Barely. “Anyway, Yukinoshita, please allow me some time to think about how to handle this, we could—”
“There’s no need for you to do that.”
The words are sharp, concise, and all playfulness gets drained out of the room.
“It’s not about me needing to do anything—” I try to remain calm and conciliatory. Which would be easier if I had been any of those things previously. Maybe in a past life.
“Then let me clarify: I will do this on my own, Hikigaya. I do not want you to help.”
And now I can see why Haruno can get so pissed off at this brat.
I take a deep breath, count to ten while Yuigahama looks nervously between us both, thinking about what to say (and I don’t look at Isshiki, just in case). Then I grasp the chance I’ve been given.
“Very well, I won’t help you,” she looks at me, relieved, almost grateful. “Instead, I will defeat you.”
“… What?”
“We have a standing challenge, Yukinoshita. Let’s settle it once and for all. Winner takes all.” I show more confidence than I ever have before. Testosterone, don’t fail me now.
She looks at me, gratitude and relief gone from her icy gaze. And this is the Yukinoshita I was so captivated by, the one who could stand up to me and my bullshit, the one who could act without hesitation, not the one who hid behind false pretenses, who disguised her weakness for fear of showing it to us. I hate myself a bit at the realization, but I liked the fake Yukinoshita better than the Yukinoshita who faked.
Not that it matters now.
“Very well. Club is suspended until this matter is over.” And she stands, gathering her unfinished lunch.
“Ah, guys, we don’t need to—” Yuigahama looks lost, and I feel guilty for her, but it will be for the best once this is all over. I promise, Yui.
“I think they do, Yui. I wish they didn’t, but… they do.” Isshiki reassures her, softly, as if talking to a distraught child, and there’s so much I could forgiver her just for this moment.
“Yes. We do.” I pick up my own unfinished lunch and get out of the room before Yukinoshita can, hoping she will stay with Yui if I give her this excuse. And that’s it, the result of the Joestar family’s secret technique: my departure from the club.
Only time will tell if it was for the best.
***
I push open the malfunctioning door to the roof, hoping to find a spot to finish eating in privacy. It looks like I am in luck, because it is as empty as my social prospects in the near future. Rather than take out my food, though, I sit down to watch the clouds drift by like some kind of suicidally lazy ninja.
It doesn’t take long for Isshiki to catch up. As expected.
“Senpai, I…” She drifts off, not knowing how to continue.
“It’s all right, Isshiki; it’s not your fault,” I say, as reassuring as she just was with Yui.
“But I… The reason I asked you to help with the prom was…” She wrings her hands, chin tucked in insecure vulnerability.
“I know. It was for us.”
“You knew?”
“It wasn’t hard to guess, what with you insisting it needed to be established without issue so next year would be a sure thing.”
“I could have been talking about Hayama. I did mention him.” I snort at that, and she glares. Which suits her far better.
“You could have. You weren’t.” I leave it at that and hope she doesn’t question me further, because I don’t know what I would end up saying.
She seems to accept my words, because she just shuts up and sits beside me. We remain like that for a few moments, just letting the silence hang comfortably between us.
“So, about you and Ms. Hiratsuka…” Dammit, Isshiki, look what you have done to Comfortable Silence-kun!
“About me and Shizu…?”
“… You may want to make sure you don’t call her ‘Shizu’ so casually.”
“My internal monologue seems to have no filter nowadays. Sorry about that.”
She looks at me, not quite a glare, but obviously not happy with me either.
“Call me Iroha.”
“What?!”
“You heard me. If you are going around giving cutesy nicknames to women, I want to make sure I don’t end up with something embarrassing, so call me Iroha.” She puffs up her chest, a gesture that would have been more impressive on Yuigahama, but much less so in Yukinoshita. A happy middle with its own merits.
Brain, we are going to have a serious talk after this conversation.
“Very well, Iroha.” She gets that cute, light pink on her cheeks that she sometimes gets when I catch her off-guard and a pleased little smile that makes my heart beat that bit faster than it should when not around Shizu. Testosterone, you have already done your job for the day; you can leave now, thank you very much.
“Senpai…” She looks into my eyes, head tilted down, eyes lidded, lip half-bitten. No, Testosterone-kun, don’t do it! “Now that we are so much closer…” And I can feel the heat of her arm leaking into mine from where she is sitting so close to me that—when did she move! “Maybe you could…”
She trails off.
And keeps looking at me.
“Yes?” I unwillingly ask.
“Tell me in exacting detail how this—” she flashes her smartphone with the damning pictures at me— “happened?”
Right, brain, I know we haven’t been getting along today, but I really, really could use your help at this very moment.
“You see, when a bee likes a flower very much, she sometimes drinks her dry of nectar and—” Dammit, brain!
Fortunately for my rapidly overheating sense of embarrassment, Iroha buries her fist right in my solar plexus. Never have my pained, breathless gasps sounded so grateful.
“I know whathappened; I want to know how it happened.”
“Well, the thing started when she dropped down to her knees and—” I catch a dangerous glint in Iroha’s gaze and quickly backtrack. After sighing. The sigh is important. “I went to see her about the prom yesterday to see what could be done,” she looks at me with warm gratitude at that, which… never mind. “She started on one of her rants about dying an old spinster and… I got caught up in the moment and kissed her.” I remember, with my cheeks so warm I think they may show up in the weather forecast.
“And that’s it… that’s all it took for it to be ‘genuine?’” she asks, doubtful, maybe disappointed.
“No. No, that wasn’t it. I wouldn’t have done that with any other woman, no matter how attractive; what I have with Shizu… It is new, still doesn’t have a name, but… But it is something just between us. Something I couldn’t have with any other woman.”
“Are you that easily seduced, Senpai? Are you telling me if yesterday didn’t happen you would not have been able to have this with Yukinoshita or Yui?” There’s something hidden in that question, but it is something I am safer not looking for, so I will just answer honestly.
“No, I wouldn’t,” she gasps at my straightforward denial, so I clarify. “I would be able to have something unique to Yukinoshita and me, or to Yui and me, but not what I have with Shizu. They… They are all unique, and I can’t exchange them for one another. Each one offers what they are, what they can be with me, so forcing on them what I would expect to get from another… that would be unforgivable.” And I taste bile at those words, because I am being forced by Iroha to confront things I would rather remain unsaid, because words are imperfect to really show what I feel, what I mean, but… But I am also grateful. Because words are imperfect, but silence doesn’t even try.
“I… see.” And maybe she does, and maybe she doesn’t, but that’s what a relationship is, and we can just push forward, hoping we end up traveling in the same direction, that we end up walking alongside one another, together.
She takes my hand, warm fingers soothing my cold ones as they are grasped, and she squeezes my palm. How lewd.
“I want to watch,” she says.
“Guh?” I intelligently reply.
Her face is red and she doesn’t look at me, eyes locked on a spot of the floor as if it holds the very meaning of life.
“I… I mean, I am at that age where I am starting to find this kind of thing interesting, you know? And, and maybe, maybe it would be safer to find out about it with people I… trust? And besides, I know…” Her frantic words petter out and her shouders sag.
“You know?” I, unwisely, prod her.
“I know you liked me watching you,” she says, voice tinier than I have ever heard from her, and something snaps in my head.
Something which is happening with worrisome frequency. I may need to go to the doctor—I will just omit the names and ages of those involved.
“I did.” Oi, you deep-voiced, cocky bastard, what are you saying while using my body? I should warn you it hasn’t been properly maintained and the insurance will charge you a premium. You should think about getting your own.
Her hand slackens on mine, and I grip her tighter before she can think to get it back. Gently yet forcefully, I grasp her chin and force her to abandon her search for cosmological answers carelessly lying on the floor and look into my eyes. Hers are wide, eyelids almost fluttering, and a deep blush blooming right under them. Mine… I guess they are intense, because that’s how I feel right now, that weird energy I felt when handling Shizu somehow making my gestures surer, firmer.
“I did like you looking at me, gasping for breath, blushing as much as you are doing right now.” Her lips tremble, and I feel a grin tucking at mine. “It did excite me, knowing you were there, knowing I was exciting you.” She gasps at that, and her pink, wet lips look so thoroughly tempting I scarcely can hold onto my already compromised morals. “What I did not like was you doing it without permission.”
“Then,” she gulps for air, “then that means…”
“I will speak with Shizu about it.”
“I… thank you, Senpai.”
“Call me Hachi.”
And the blush is back, and she nods, her chin still in my hand. And I know I could press further without getting any kind of protest, I know I could have her moaning my name, and only the memory of another beautiful face moaning ‘Hachi’ stops me from doing it.
“And, Iroha, about those photos,” her look shifts to nervous apprehension at that, and I can’t bring myself to do the right thing, “make sure nobody else sees them, all right?”
“All right… Hachi,” she says, eyes wide, timid smile blooming right over where my fingers press into her soft skin, her voice a whisper that shoots straight to my heart.
…
My cheeky, foxy junior can’t be this cute.
