Chapter 25: Twelvefold
"I just… really needed to go. I was in such a rush looking for the bathroom that I didn't even notice the sign."
Ren's explanation came out disjointed and clumsy, each sentence barely connecting to the next.
Looking at the stunned girl in front of him, he felt every word sounded weak and unconvincing.
Miwa snapped back to her senses, her cheeks instantly flushing red.
"It's okay," she said quickly, nodding. "I believe you, Ren. Y-You're definitely not the kind of pervert who sneaks into the girls' restroom!"
"Th-Then… I'll… go in first?"
She forced out an awkward smile, brushed past him, and hurried into the restroom without another glance back.
Ren stood there, lips slightly parted, unable to close his mouth for a moment.
That's it? That solved it?
Miwa believed him… just like that?
Looks like I've maintained a pretty decent image, after all.
He let out a long breath of relief.
Then his expression shifted. He suddenly realized that standing there staring at the women's restroom entrance made him look exactly like the kind of creep he'd just denied being.
Without hesitation, he turned and walked away as quickly as possible.
…
A few minutes later, Miwa stood in front of the sink, adjusting her appearance while replaying the scene in her mind.
Strange… why was Ren even there?
And his expression had been suspicious.
She recalled his bright red face and the way he'd stammered.
No, wait—of course he looked like that. I crashed into him so suddenly.
Anyway, Ren absolutely wasn't that kind of person. There was no way he was secretly sneaking into the women's restroom.
But…
Then again… who knows? A lot of creeps look perfectly normal on the surface, don't they? Before anything comes to light, they're the good teacher in students' eyes, the model student in teachers' eyes, the reliable coworker, the devoted spouse… No one ever expects it until the truth explodes.
Miwa remembered the news reports she'd seen on TV and felt a flicker of doubt.
And really—would anyone be careless enough to walk into the wrong restroom?
…Well, it's not impossible. She herself had almost lost her wallet in a moment of carelessness.
And—
As she replayed the encounter more carefully, she noticed more details.
Ren had been drenched in sweat, his face flushed deep red. Not just his face—his neck, even his collarbones, had been tinged with color. That was far beyond ordinary embarrassment. It looked more like… extreme strain.
Ah!
Miwa suddenly understood.
He must've desperately needed to use the bathroom.
Ren must have been holding it in until the very last second, barely making it to the restroom in time. That would explain everything—the panic, the confusion, not even checking whether it was the men's or women's side. In that kind of situation, even a few seconds could feel life-threatening.
Honestly… why would he hold it in that long?
Thinking back to his flushed face and flustered expression, Miwa felt both exasperated and amused.
But as her thoughts continued, her focus drifted—almost involuntarily—to the image of his fair skin, flushed pink beneath the sheen of sweat. The tiny beads of perspiration clinging to his neck and collarbone, glinting faintly under the light.
…and for some reason, today Ren had been giving off a strangely intense presence. Was it just because of his body heat?
Her breathing grew shallow. Her mouth felt dry. She unconsciously licked her lips.
No… wait…
Miwa vigorously shook her head, her blue hair whipping against her blazer with sharp snapping sounds.
What am I even thinking?
It's not that there's anything wrong with him as a person.
But timing matters. Timing!
How could she possibly start fantasizing about a guy who accidentally barged into the girls' restroom because he was desperate to use it?
Could it be that the real "pervert" here was… herself?
No. Absolutely not!
That cannot be the truth!
Miwa stood there, conducting a solemn self-examination.
Bang! A stall door swung open.
She turned around. Zen'in Mai was leaning against the doorframe, swaying slightly as she stepped out.
"Mai?" Miwa blinked in surprise.
Mai did not look well.
Her smooth forehead and toned arms were covered in sweat. Her neatly tailored qipao was wrinkled and disheveled. Her normally sharp dark-green bob was a mess. And her face—her face was flushed a deep, feverish red, radiating heat so intense it was almost visible.
Step.
She took one stride forward, then immediately grabbed the doorframe again, upper body tilting, legs unsteady, as if even walking required effort.
"Mai?" Miwa's eyes widened. "Are you okay? Are you sick?"
"M-Miwa…" Mai's voice came out breathless, nothing like her usual proud, defiant tone.
"Wh-What's wrong? Did you catch something?"
Miwa hurried over, reaching out to support her.
But Mai raised a hand, signaling her to stop.
"I-It's nothing. Just feeling a little unwell."
"A little?"
"Maybe… maybe a cold."
"Should I take you to the infirmary?"
"N-No. I have medicine. I'll just go back to the dorm and rest."
"Then let me help you back?"
"No, really, don't." Mai waved her off repeatedly.
"A-Are you sure?"
"I'm fine! I can manage on my own!"
Gripping the line of doorframes along the wall, Mai staggered toward the exit under Miwa's stunned gaze.
"M-Mai?"
"I said I'm fine! Just worry about yourself, Miwa!" There was a sharp edge in her voice now.
Of course, it was the brittle kind of irritation born from panic—the desperate need to keep her real situation from being discovered.
She knew the tone might hurt Miwa, but she had no choice. Under no circumstances could Miwa find out what had really happened. She would figure out how to smooth things over later…
Leaning against the wall, stumbling step by step down the corridor, Mai replayed the chaotic scene from that cramped stall in her mind.
She bit her lower lip, shaking her dark-green hair. Her face, flushed like a sunset ablaze, carried both lingering intoxication and a trace of lingering fear.
Especially when she remembered—
Just as she had been dazed, breathless, convinced the storm was finally about to subside—
The boy had leaned close to her ear, his scorching lips brushing against her skin, and in a tone like a patient predator finally seizing its prey, whispered those words.
Her legs trembled violently, and she nearly collapsed.
"That damn dog of a man!"
What did he mean by—
"My stamina is twelve times that of a normal person, too."
Wouldn't that actually kill someone?!
In the empty hallway, the uneven click of Mai's high heels echoed on and off against the floor, fading into the distance…