Kasumigaoka Utaha put on her hairband.
She slid her feet into thin stockings, her hands smoothing them over her well-proportioned calves and thighs, all the way to her waist.
The girl tapped the floor with her toes before stepping into her shoes, picking up her small black schoolbag and heading out the door.
Today was the school festival, so there was no need to leave very early. The tall girl, who had been staying up late frequently to revise her novel, seemed a bit ethereal.
Ding—
The screen lit up.
Kasumigaoka Utaha pulled out her phone with eyes full of anticipation, but the result was disappointing.
[Nishikido Shuichi: Kasumigaoka-san, have you come to school yet?]
Click.
Irritation.
Screen locked.
The Tokyo subway was crowded regardless of the time of day. The girl faced the window, her arm raised high, gripping the handrail.
The Tsukihime-sensei she was looking forward to hadn't contacted her for two days.
Ever since she received praise last time, Kasumigaoka Utaha had been constantly revising her work based on the other's suggestions.
After that, the two gradually ran out of things to talk about.
However, that 'eavesdropping' on the rooftop had allowed her to understand 'Tsukihime's' personality and identity from more angles.
Sen Getsusa—that was Tsukihime-sensei's true identity, according to Machida Enko.
Kasumigaoka Utaha vaguely remembered this girl.
An extremely eye-catching tear mole and those slightly drooping corners of her eyes were alluring yet somewhat cold at the same time.
A pair of healthy and well-proportioned thighs, an explosive bust... no woman who had seen Sen Getsusa once would ever forget her.
So, was it you?
Kasumigaoka Utaha leaned forward with the occasional swaying of the subway, her other hand fumbling with her phone in her pocket.
Through hot topics on the forum, she learned about Sen Getsusa's movements.
So... should she reveal her identity?
"I hope her work can be published normally," Sen Getsusa's words echoed in Kasumigaoka's mind.
Oh, she likes girls?
Kasumigaoka Utaha gave a meaningful smile; in the crowded carriage, countless eyes swept over her face.
Ding—
[Nishikido Shuichi: Kasumigaoka-san, are you at school?]
A repeated message.
Kasumigaoka Utaha frowned and impatiently swiped open the screen.
[Kasumigaoka Utaha: Yeah.]
The other party replied quickly.
[Nishikido Shuichi: Can I invite you to the new teaching building, Senpai?]
[Kasumigaoka Utaha: No.]
So annoying.
Kasumigaoka Utaha impatiently bounced her leg and pushed through the slightly crowded throng with her shoulder.
Nishikido Shuichi was an upperclassman. Kasumigaoka Utaha had completely run out of patience for this Boy with semi-long hair, thick lips, and small eyes.
After a chance encounter at the station, he had started pestering her. Having somehow obtained her phone number, Nishikido Shuichi would occasionally send her utterly boring greetings.
For example: "What are you doing?", "Have you eaten?", "Was it good?", "Are you full?", "Are you asleep?", "Did you sleep well?", and so on.
She had also tried to explain things to him, saying things like "Please don't waste your time on me, I won't like you," or "Could you stop bothering me?"—but after a few days of silence, he would always revert to his old ways.
"Have you eaten?" "Are you full?"
So annoying!
Kasumigaoka Utaha squeezed through the crowd, swimming up to the platform from the sea of shoulders.
Finally here.
Ding—
[Nishikido Shuichi: After this time, I won't bother Kasumigaoka-san anymore.]
[Nishikido Shuichi: But I hope Kasumigaoka-san can tell me clearly in person.]
[Nishikido Shuichi: Instead of through the phone.]
With a sneer, the girl bypassed the crowded areas and walked along the wall toward the school's main gate. The school was extremely lively today.
From a distance, Kasumigaoka could see simple booths set up, with several students in casual clothes busy working with their heads down.
A huge display banner hung high at the entrance, with "Meidai Festival" followed by the school's name and the date. The surface was splashed with various colors of paint like graffiti.
On both sides of the school gate, display boards of various sizes showed today's campus activities and schedules, while some were promoting their own booths.
The girl looked down and tapped her phone a few times.
[Kasumigaoka Utaha: That's not necessary. Please stop bothering me. Thanks.]
Sen Getsusa—Sen Getsusa—let me see—
Standing in front of the activity schedule, Kasumigaoka carefully searched for that name.
Oh, in the afternoon?
13:30, Auditorium.
Tsk, how should I kill time?
Free of any obligations, Kasumigaoka Utaha hadn't agreed to anything: no running a booth with classmates, no dancing on a giant stage to be watched by everyone, and certainly no wearing strange clothes to interact with students' parents and friends.
Today was a day for relaxation. Students, faculty, nearby residents, and passersby all walked in with smiles, looking around, some even bringing children.
It was incredibly lively.
Kasumigaoka Utaha spotted her female classmates' booth. She put on a business-like smile, greeted them, then turned and took another path.
The numerous rented tents were filled with ingredients and equipment—most of the food didn't look great, but the students' effort was evident. Booths that had started selling food vouchers half a month ago could now be visited to exchange those vouchers for food slightly more expensive than the voucher's value.
Clubs or classes with many girls usually had booths like this—snacks, cakes, drinks. If there were fewer girls... it would probably be something like ring toss or darts.
Huh? Don't know how to do anything?
There's a way for that too.
Looking at the enthusiastic underclassmen around her, the girl with slender shoulders and a thin waist scanned the nearby booths with her wine-red eyes—
Several Boys, wearing green-and-white striped short-sleeved shirts and ripped jeans, stood in front of a booth with faces full of cream. In their disarray, they showed their white teeth and grinned foolishly at passersby.
Their clothes and pants were covered in cream.
Like beggars who had rolled around in the snow.
A creased piece of A2 paper was stuck to a piece of cardboard. A Boy held it to his chest, posing like a car model while showing the text to passersby.
"Pancake Toss"
"2 Throws"
"200 Yen"
It was probably a gag booth for venting emotions; basically, after paying, you could smash a cream pancake into the booth owner's face.
On the other side of the booth, there was a floor advertisement with photos of each Boy. After paying, you could decide who looked the most punchable and choose to hit them... A few girls and passersby gathered around, watching as a weightlifting student from the sports department walked over curiously—
The Boy's dark, shiny biceps were bulging and knotted. His thick fingers pulled a stack of money from his pocket, and amidst the booth owner's terrified expression... he directly bought twenty turns.
Everyone was about to die of laughter.
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