FEMALE WASHROOM .
I immediately regretted being born.
I stared at the sign. Then at her. Then back to the sign.
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"There is no one inside."
"That does not improve the crime level of this situation."
She opened the door and peeked in.
And looked back at me. "Clear."
"I am not entering the girls' bathroom because of zombie shit."
"Sh, sh, you are being too loud."
"Because this is mad."
And then, before I could say anything, she grabbed my wrist and pulled me inside.
The door clicked shut.
"This is how false accusations of sexual harassment are established," I said.
Airi ignored me and immediately checked under the stall to see if someone was there or not, like a professional government inspector.
"Safe."
"That word is kind of reassuring once in a while."
She turned back to me. In the quiet washroom, both girls and boys standing next to each other.
That thought is far too intimate for my mental health.
Airi moved closer and closer.
When there was no gap between her lips and my nervous breathing, she said, "Let's get started."
The washroom was quiet. Her eyes lifted to mine.
"You still have a slight fever."
"You can tell that without touching?"
"Yes."
She raised her finger to her mouth and extended her finger toward me.
"Open."
Everything that had happened up to now was the least weird thing today.
And because the universe clearly hated me, the whole moment looked far more erotic than it was.
"Ren," she said.
"Airi."
"Open."
I hate how effective eye contact is. And I tried not to think about how bizarre this scene would be if someone saw us.
Apparently, my self-respect had already died several chapters ago; I let my tongue brush against the droplet.
Airi inhaled softly, but just enough for me to notice. She kept her finger there for half a second longer than necessary and then withdrew it softly.
"...Good," she said.
My face felt hot. "Can we never do that in a bathroom again?"
She tilted her head and said, "It was efficient."
Then suddenly, the door clicked. Both of us froze and tried to hide but couldn't.
Some footsteps, heel sounds, and a familiar voice.
"Well, this is an unexpectedly educational use of the female washroom, I guess." A familiar face appeared—Shizuka Kurotsuchi.
My soul left my body and Airi went still. I looked at her—our new teacher, our homeroom teacher standing by the door.
She folded her arms and gave us a smile. Somehow, the expression was kind of unreadable. And it was something worse.
Her eyes shifted from me to Airi and then back to me.
"So, you must be Ren," Shizuka Sensei said.
I didn't answer; I looked at Airi.
And Airi looked at her. And Airi said, "He's the one.