When I finally opened my eyes, I was no longer in my dark bedroom.
I was standing in the middle of an old wooden house. The air smelled of aged timber, smoke, and something faintly earthy. The mirror was still clutched tightly in my hands, its cold metal frame pressing into my palms.
Outside, a violent thunderstorm raged. Deep, rumbling thunder rolled through the walls, making the wooden floor vibrate beneath my bare feet. Heavy rain hammered against the roof like thousands of tiny stones.
My heart started pounding.
To make sure this wasn't just another dream, I raised my hand and slapped myself hard across the cheek. The sharp sting bloomed instantly across my face — real pain. My eyes watered slightly from the force.
This wasn't a dream.
I was really here.
A warm, flickering orange glow came from the corner of the room. I turned and saw a stone fireplace crackling softly, the flames dancing and casting long, shifting shadows across the wooden walls and floor. The fire was the only source of light, bathing everything in a cozy yet eerie warmth.
Still holding the ancient mirror, I walked slowly toward the nearest window. The wooden planks creaked under my weight with every step. I pushed aside a thin, rough curtain and looked outside.
What I saw made my stomach drop.
Massive bolts of lightning tore across the pitch-black sky, illuminating a dense, unfamiliar forest for brief, blinding moments. Towering trees swayed violently in the strong wind. Rain poured down in thick sheets, turning the ground into mud. This place looked nothing like my quiet neighborhood in Japan. No concrete buildings, no streetlights, no familiar city glow in the distance.
Only wilderness. Only storm.
I took a shaky step back from the window, my breath coming faster.
"I… I actually came to a different world…" I whispered to myself, voice barely audible over the roaring thunder.
The mirror in my hands suddenly felt heavier. Dangerous. The same mirror I had stupidly touched twice in the middle of the night had dragged me here — into this strange wooden cabin, in the middle of a violent thunderstorm, in a world that wasn't mine.
My legs felt weak. A mix of fear and disbelief churned in my chest.
What the hell had I done?
Still shaken, I began slowly walking through the wooden house, the ancient mirror still gripped tightly in my trembling hands. The storm continued to rage outside, thunder cracking loudly every few seconds. The only light came from the flickering fireplace in the main room, so when I stepped into the next room, everything turned pitch black.
I couldn't see anything.
I moved forward carefully, sliding my bare feet across the wooden floor, trying to feel my way so I wouldn't trip. My heart was racing. Every small creak of the floorboards made me flinch.
Then my foot met nothing.
I fell forward with a startled gasp.
Instead of hitting the hard floor, I landed on something incredibly soft and warm. My body sank deep into it, like falling onto a thick, heated cloud. A sweet, intoxicating scent filled my nose — something soft, feminine, and slightly musky that made my head feel light. It was so comforting, so pleasant, that for a brief moment I thought I could just stay there forever, buried in that warmth.
Before I could process what was happening, two soft hands suddenly grabbed my face firmly.
In the next instant, a pair of hot, wet lips crashed against mine with raw, aggressive force.
The kiss was intense — almost violent in its hunger. Her lips were full and burning hot as they pressed hard against my own, claiming my mouth completely. She kissed me like she had been starving for it. Her tongue pushed past my lips without hesitation, invading my mouth and tangling aggressively with mine. Thick, warm saliva mixed between us as she sucked and licked, coating my lips, my tongue, and even dripping down my chin. The wet, obscene sounds of the deep kiss echoed in the dark room — messy, desperate, and shameless. She moaned softly into my mouth, the vibration traveling straight through me as her tongue explored every corner, tasting me greedily.
I couldn't breathe. My mind went completely blank from the overwhelming sensation.
Only then did reality hit me.
I wasn't lying on a bed or a cushion.
I was lying on top of a girl.
A real girl.
My entire body was pressed against hers in the darkness. My chest was squished firmly against her massive, incredibly soft breasts. They were so large and full that my face was practically buried between them, the warm, smooth skin enveloping my cheeks. Every time I tried to move, my face sank deeper into that plush, heavy cleavage. Her breasts felt even softer and warmer than in my wet dream — heavy, yielding, and perfectly shaped, rising and falling rapidly with her excited breathing.
My cock, still sensitive from earlier, twitched hard against her thigh as the realization sank in.
This was real.
I panicked.
The intense, wet kiss was too much — too sudden, too aggressive. Her hot tongue, the thick saliva coating my lips and chin, the way she moaned into my mouth… it overwhelmed every nerve in my body. My mind screamed that this was too real, too dangerous.
With all the strength I could muster, I tore my lips away from hers. A wet, obscene smack echoed in the dark room as our mouths separated, a thin string of saliva still connecting us for a brief second before breaking.
Gasping for air, I pushed myself off her soft body, my hands sinking deep into her massive breasts as I scrambled up. I didn't wait to see her reaction. I turned and ran blindly out of the dark room, stumbling through the doorway and back into the main room where the fireplace was still crackling.
My heart was hammering wildly in my chest. My lips felt swollen, tingling, and wet with her saliva. I could still taste her — sweet, warm, and strangely addictive.
Without thinking, I lifted the ancient mirror with shaking hands.
"I have to get out of here…!"
I thrust my hand into the mirror's surface. The cold, liquid sensation returned instantly. The mirror rippled like silver water and swallowed my arm, then my shoulder, then my entire body in one powerful pull.
Everything went dark again.
A moment later, I tumbled out onto the familiar floor of my own bedroom.
I was back.
The storm, the wooden house, the mysterious girl — all gone. Only the quiet darkness of my room remained, lit only by the faint glow of my digital clock showing 3:12 AM.
I crawled onto my bed, breathing heavily, and pulled the blanket over myself as if it could protect me from what had just happened. My lips were still burning. I could still feel the ghost of her aggressive kiss, the wetness, the hunger.
I had never kissed a girl before in my life.
Not once.
And the first kiss I ever got was like that — forceful, messy, overwhelming, and terrifying.
My mind kept spinning.
Where the hell did I go?
That place didn't feel like Earth at all. The wooden house, the violent thunderstorm, the dense forest outside… it was far beyond anything I could imagine. It felt like another world entirely. A different realm.
And that mirror… that cursed ancient mirror had taken me there and brought me back like it was nothing.
I lay there in the darkness, staring at the ceiling, my body still trembling with adrenaline. My cock was half-hard from the memory of her soft breasts pressing against my chest and the taste of her mouth.
What if I hadn't run away?
What if I touched the mirror again?
I swallowed hard, feeling equal parts fear and a strange, forbidden curiosity growing inside my chest.
I couldn't stay in bed. My mind was too chaotic, my lips still tingling from that aggressive kiss.
I quietly slipped out of my room and went to the bathroom. The cold tiles felt shocking against my bare feet. I turned on the faucet and splashed cold water onto my face several times, trying to wash away the strange heat still burning on my skin. Water dripped down my chin as I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, breathing heavily.
Then my eyes caught something.
On the left side of my neck, just below my jaw, there was a distinct crimson red mark.
It looked like a tattoo — an intricate, elegant pattern that resembled some ancient script mixed with swirling vine-like designs. The color was deep, almost blood-red, and it stood out sharply against my pale skin. It definitely wasn't there before. I would have noticed something like this.
My stomach twisted.
"Where… where did this come from?" I whispered to myself, voice shaking slightly.
I rubbed the mark frantically with my wet fingers, then grabbed soap and scrubbed harder. I splashed more water on it, rubbing again and again. But no matter how hard I tried, the crimson mark wouldn't fade even a little. It stayed perfectly intact, as if it had been burned or branded into my skin.
I was marked.
The realization sent a cold shiver down my spine. That girl… that kiss… Did she do this to me?
I stood there for a long moment, staring at the strange red tattoo on my neck in the mirror. My heart wouldn't slow down. A thousand questions raced through my mind, but I had no answers.
Feeling unsettled and exhausted, I turned off the light and returned to my room. I placed the ancient mirror carefully under my bed again, hiding it deep in the shadows.
"Let's see what happens…" I muttered quietly to myself.
I climbed back into bed, pulled the blanket over my head, and tried to force myself to sleep. Tomorrow was a school day. I had to wake up early like usual and act normal. No one could know about any of this.
But as I lay there in the darkness, the crimson mark on my neck pulsed with a faint, warm sensation — almost like it was alive.
Sleep didn't come easily.
Morning came too quickly.
The alarm showed 7:03 AM when I finally forced my eyes open. My body felt heavy from the restless night, but I dragged myself out of bed anyway. After brushing my teeth and washing my face, I changed into my school uniform — white shirt, dark trousers, and the usual boring tie.
Downstairs, my mother had already prepared breakfast. The smell of rice, miso soup, and grilled fish filled the small dining area. I sat down at the table without saying much, still half-lost in my thoughts.
I ate quietly, keeping my head slightly lowered. The crimson mark on my neck felt warm, almost like it was gently pulsing against my skin. Every time I swallowed, I became hyper-aware of it.
Midway through breakfast, my mother walked behind me and casually reached over to adjust my shirt collar, straightening it with her fingers.
My heart jumped.
She was touching the exact spot where the mark was.
But she didn't react at all. No surprise, no questions, no "What is that on your neck?"
She simply fixed the collar and went back to the kitchen as if nothing was there.
That's when it hit me.
She couldn't see it.
The crimson red mark — that strange tattoo-like pattern — was invisible to her. Only I could see it. Only I could feel its faint, constant warmth against my skin.
I sat there frozen for a few seconds, chopsticks hovering above my bowl. A strange mix of relief and unease settled in my chest. If even my mother couldn't see it, then no one else at school would notice either… right?
Still, the mark felt like undeniable proof that last night wasn't just my imagination. The wooden house, the thunderstorm, the girl with the aggressive kiss — it had all really happened.
I finished my breakfast quickly, the food suddenly tasting bland. As I stood up and grabbed my school bag, one thought kept repeating in my head:
This mark… what exactly did it mean?
And what would happen if I touched that mirror again tonight?
The whole way to school, my mind was somewhere else. I walked with my head slightly down, earphones in but no music playing, replaying everything that happened last night — the mirror, the stormy wooden house, that aggressive kiss, and the mysterious crimson mark still burning faintly on my neck.
When I reached the school gate, the usual noisy morning scene greeted me. A large group of boys had gathered near the entrance, whispering and openly staring at one girl in particular.
Erico Hoshina.
She was easily considered the Beauty Queen of our entire high school. Tall, athletic, with long, silky black hair that swayed beautifully when she moved. Her body was the kind that turned heads without even trying — especially her large, full breasts. Even in the standard school uniform, her chest strained noticeably against the white blouse. Whenever she ran or walked briskly, her big boobs would jiggle heavily, drawing shameless stares from almost every guy around her.
I stopped for a moment near the shoe lockers, pretending to fix my shoes while secretly glancing at her.
Of course I wasn't immune to it. I loved big breasts just like any other guy. The way hers bounced and swayed when she laughed and talked with her friends made something stir inside me. But I knew better than to stare too long.
Erico was the complete opposite of me.
She was bright, confident, and extremely extroverted — always surrounded by friends, always smiling, always the center of attention. I was the quiet ghost who slipped through the hallways without anyone noticing. She rejected every single love confession she received, and she received a lot. Handsome guys, athletes, rich boys — none of them had a chance.
So someone like me?
There was zero possibility.
I silently adjusted my bag on my shoulder and walked past the crowd, keeping my head low so no one would notice me. As I made my way toward the classroom, that familiar lonely feeling settled back in my chest.
Different worlds. That's what we were.
I entered the classroom, found my usual seat near the back by the window, and sat down quietly. The mark on my neck tingled again, reminding me that my real problems weren't here in this noisy school.
Lunch break finally arrived. As usual, I grabbed my bentō box and slipped out of the classroom quietly, heading toward my secret spot — the rooftop. Almost no one ever went up there, so I could eat in complete silence and peace, away from the noisy crowds.
I was walking with my head down, lost in thought about the crimson mark still hidden under my collar, when it happened.
Right in front of the classroom door, I accidentally bumped into someone.
Soft. Warm. Surprisingly full.
My hand brushed directly against a large, yielding breast for a split second. The sensation was unmistakable — the gentle bounce and heat of a girl's chest through the thin fabric of her uniform blouse.
I froze.
It was Erico Hoshina.
My face instantly burned with embarrassment. Without even daring to look up at her face, I bowed my head deeply and muttered in a shaky voice:
"S-Sorry…!"
I didn't wait for her response. I quickly stepped around her and hurried away down the corridor, heart pounding wildly. That brief touch lingered on my fingertips — so soft, so warm.
I practically ran up the stairs to the rooftop.
Once there, I sat in my usual corner, ate my lunch in silence, trying to calm my racing mind. The rooftop was peaceful as always, with only the distant sound of students and a light breeze.
Then I heard footsteps.
Someone was coming up the stairs.
I looked up, confused. No one ever came here.
It was Erico.
She stepped onto the rooftop without saying a single word. Her long hair swayed gently as she walked straight toward me with slow, confident steps. Her expression was unreadable at first.
Before I could say anything or stand up, she suddenly grabbed the front of my uniform shirt and yanked me down onto the hard concrete floor.
I landed on my back with a soft thud, eyes wide in shock.
In one smooth motion, Erico climbed on top of me, straddling my waist. Her thighs pressed firmly against my sides, and her heavy breasts hovered just above my chest, straining against her blouse. The weight of her body on mine was overwhelming.
She looked down at me with a devilish, hungry smile — her eyes gleaming with clear desire. Her voice came out low, sultry, and direct:
"Let's have sex."
The words hit me like a lightning bolt.
My brain short-circuited. My mouth went dry. I could feel the heat radiating from her body, especially between her legs where she was sitting directly on my crotch. My cock twitched involuntarily beneath her.
This couldn't be real.
Erico Hoshina — the unreachable beauty queen who rejected every guy — was now on top of me, offering herself so boldly.