Kirisu Mafuyu's eyes widened, disbelief flickering behind her lashes.
At the dim end of the school corridor — that quiet stretch past the third-year classrooms where the vending machine hummed and the late sun slanted amber through dust — her own student was actually this audacious.
Without a word, Hozuki Nozomi backed her into the corner.
Then, decisively, giving her no room to refuse, he lowered his head and pressed his mouth to her soft lips.
"Mmmph — you — mmph~!"
Kirisu Mafuyu felt the warm pressure of his mouth, and the moment comprehension caught up to her body, she instinctively balled her small hands into fists and shoved hard against his chest.
When shoving proved useless, she switched to short, indignant punches against his sternum.
Still useless.
Hozuki Nozomi, that bad boy, seemed intent on going through with the kiss no matter what. His broad palm wrapped firmly around her slender waist, fingers splayed at the small of her back, right where her cream turtleneck tucked into the tight black pencil skirt. His knee wedged forward, pressing through the bodycon fabric to nudge the inside of her thigh.
Kirisu Mafuyu's eyes welled up.
Grievance, mostly. She didn't understand why this student was treating her like this. This behavior — it was clearly, entirely wrong.
Hozuki Nozomi knew it was wrong.
But the impulse had already carried him past the line, so he simply committed. He held Kirisu Mafuyu tighter, and his breathing thickened against her cheek.
No matter how composed she looked in the staff room, Kirisu Mafuyu was still a woman — a woman who had never had a boyfriend, who had never even held hands past dusk. She was deep in the prime of her womanhood, and being handled this boldly, this suddenly, her fair face flushed from her collar to the tips of her ears, cherry-red and burning.
Seemingly resigning to the fact that refusal wouldn't work, her fists uncurled, and her fingers gathered nervously into the lapels of his blazer.
Seeing that, Hozuki Nozomi reluctantly let her lips go.
He studied her — the wet lashes, the trembling mouth, the pink still climbing her throat.
"Sorry, Mafuyu-sensei. You look too cute like this."
Kirisu Mafuyu gritted her teeth and glared at him. Her knees had gone soft. She leaned powerlessly against his chest, small hands still knotted in his lapels for balance.
"You bastard," she cursed under her breath, thumping him weakly. "Why are you so skilled at this...?"
Hozuki Nozomi paused, then smiled. "I practiced with my girlfriend. Mafuyu-sensei knows who she is, doesn't she?"
"I don't want to know. Just — let go of me, first..."
"No."
He refused flatly.
"I've already done something bad to Sensei. If I let go, you'll definitely run away, won't you?"
"I won't run — you're the one who should run!"
"Do you even understand what you're doing?"
Struggling faintly in his hold, she gathered what dignity she could and lectured him:
"Hozuki-kun, this is wrong. I'm your teacher."
He nodded, perfectly serious.
"I know."
"But that doesn't stop me from liking Mafuyu-sensei."
"You — mmmph!"
Before she could retort, his mouth was on hers again, silencing her mid-syllable.
Then — footsteps, from the stairwell at the far end.
Kirisu Mafuyu's breath hitched. Her hands twisted tighter in his shirt. Panic ran cold under the warmth. If a student saw — if another teacher saw — she would be socially dead on the spot. She might not be able to continue working here at all.
And Hozuki Nozomi, the scoundrel, deliberately played on it.
He dipped to her ear, voice low and warm:
"Mafuyu-sensei doesn't want to be found, does she?"
"Mmmph — you — bastard—"
How could he bully her like this? Her pulse hammered against her throat.
Meanwhile Hozuki Nozomi held her closer, his breath falling steady against the pale skin below her ear, one thumb stroking a slow circle at her waist through the wool. She felt the heat of him against her belly, felt the ridge of something firm pressing where his hips pinned hers to the wall, and a small, strangled sound caught in her throat before she could bite it down.
"Nnh — don't — someone will—"
The footsteps passed. A door slammed on the floor below.
Silence.
Kirisu Mafuyu covered her small mouth tightly with both hands, going limp in his arms. Her eyes were glassy, her expression too ashamed to face anyone. What kind of state had he seen her in? So shameful.
Hozuki Nozomi gently combed his fingers through her long, cherry-blossom-colored hair. "You're very cute, Mafuyu-sensei."
"I know I was out of line. But please — allow me to keep holding you, from now on."
Kirisu Mafuyu snatched his forearm and bit down. Hard.
This scoundrel had no respect for her whatsoever. She hated him to death.
After leaving a neat crescent of teeth marks in his sleeve, she scrubbed her wet eyes with the back of her wrist and ran off, heels clicking unevenly down the corridor.
Hozuki Nozomi rubbed his arm and felt guilt seep in.
Too impulsive. Too hasty. This wasn't like him. Why had he grown so impatient lately? It felt like something was pushing him from underneath his own skin — a side effect, maybe, of his magic growing thicker in his veins.
...
After washing her face in the office bathroom, Kirisu Mafuyu, on wobbly legs with her shoulders sagging, returned to her desk. She couldn't teach today. She couldn't even pretend.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw that hateful, handsome face — the arrogant tilt of his mouth, the way his lashes lowered right before he kissed her.
Damn it.
Stupid man.
Bad student.
How could he bully her like this?
She filed for a half-day and went home.
When Hozuki Nozomi didn't see her in the afternoon, worry bit at him. She wouldn't do anything drastic — would she?
…
The next day, Kirisu Mafuyu didn't come to school at all.
Hozuki Nozomi couldn't sit still through fourth period. As soon as the lunch bell rang, he was out the gate, and within twenty minutes he stood at Kirisu Mafuyu's door, the smell of her building's laundry vent — detergent and warm dryer lint — thick in the corridor.
He pressed the doorbell.
A woman's slightly weak voice drifted from within.
"Who is it?"
"It's me, Mafuyu-sensei."
Kirisu Mafuyu, on the other side of the door: "..."
She froze for a few seconds, then snapped:
"Go away. I don't want to see you."
"I heard Miharu-chan went back to her guardian's place. I came to help Sensei clean."
She thought: The nerve. He kisses me against a wall and now he wants to vacuum? My hair's a mess. Why do I even care what my hair looks like—
Kirisu Mafuyu ground her teeth. Did he really think she'd open the door just because he offered to help?
Dream on.
"Go away!"
Hozuki Nozomi: "..."
Soon, the sound of footsteps faded down the hall.
Kirisu Mafuyu cracked the door and peeked her head out.
No way. Did that kid really leave? Was he that thin-skinned? He was the one who'd bullied her — of course she had every right to be angry, right?
While she was still muttering to herself, he popped out from behind the corner of the corridor, grinning at her.
"Ah—!"
She yanked her head back and slammed the door shut.
Leaning against the wood, her body trembled faintly. Her full chest rose and fell under the thin house-shirt she'd thrown on that morning — one button loose, collarbone showing, no bra beneath the soft cotton. Her lips still tingled from yesterday.
"You... are you still out there?"
"Yes. I actually came to apologize and ask for Mafuyu-sensei's forgiveness. I've been reflecting on myself deeply."
Kirisu Mafuyu: "..."
She touched her fingertips to her lower lip. Her cheeks bloomed pink again, unbidden.
Did he really know he was in the wrong?
Hesitating, chewing the inside of her cheek, she finally softened.
She opened the door and stood with her arms crossed under her chest, glaring at him with wounded irritation.
"Come in. I'll make good use of you today — be prepared."
"No problem."
Hozuki Nozomi smiled and stepped through the doorway, slipping his shoes off neatly at the entrance. Behind him, the door clicked shut, and the lock turned with a small, final sound.
He thought: as long as I can still get near her, there's a chance. No big deal.