"Mafuyu-sensei, please take responsibility for me!"
Yukima Azuma's voice still echoed inside her mind, like a stone tossed into a still lake, sending waves of chaos through her composed, logical thoughts.
Kirisu Mafuyu's breath hitched as those unexpected, explosive words registered fully in her brain.
Responsibility?!
Her face flushed scarlet in an instant, eyebrows twitching in disbelief and flustered fury. Without thinking, she reached out with her hand like a disciplinary missile targeting his ear—
"You incorrigible delinquent!"
But Yukima Azuma, perhaps already used to her teacherly reflexes, slipped to the side with an infuriating smirk.
Her back had just been against the wall—cornered by the unexpected "kabedon" from her student, of all people—and now that she was free again, Kirisu Mafuyu wasted no time.
She charged after him, a storm of long legs, swishing skirt, and righteous indignation.
"You brat! Come back here! You can't just say something so misleading and run!"
She was going to teach this audacious teenager a lesson.
A very thorough one.
And most importantly—he needed to give back her Yumiko.
(If we had a daughter, she would be named Yumiko… What the hell am I thinking?!)
Her thoughts tangled like headphone cords. She slapped her cheeks mentally, but her legs kept moving on autopilot as she chased him around the cramped room.
Unfortunately for Azuma, the size of the room was significantly smaller than a gymnasium, and even though he had better stamina and speed, space betrayed him.
He swerved once too wide—slipped—and that was all she needed.
With a sharp pounce worthy of a PE teacher, Kirisu Mafuyu tackled him onto the bed.
Thud!
They tumbled together, a mess of limbs and motion, crashing directly onto the freshly made white bedsheets.
The pristine bedding, once smooth as glass and untouched since the morning, was now completely ruined—creased, bunched up, and embarrassingly suggestive.
Kirisu Mafuyu ended up straddling Yukima Azuma, her knees pressed to the mattress, both hands gripping his cheeks as she viciously squished them in revenge.
"This is what you get for playing with your teacher's heart, you delinquent!"
"Mmmfff!" came his muffled protest under her pinching assault.
Eventually, once her irritation simmered down, she released his cheeks, panting lightly from the chase.
But then… she paused.
A creeping awareness struck her like cold water.
Wait… wait… this position…
She looked down.
Her legs were on either side of his waist. Her skirt was—oh no.
Her hands immediately recoiled from his face and clutched at the fabric near her collar, as if shielding herself from invisible stares.
This is—this is that kind of position… the "cowgirl" one?!
Her cheeks burned an even deeper red. She didn't even know such words were in her vocabulary until that moment.
"I-I need to get off! Nothing happened, right? Right?!"
With flustered haste, she tried to shift off him, but fate—or perhaps narrative mischief—wasn't about to let her escape so easily.
Azuma suddenly rolled over.
Their positions reversed in an instant.
Now he was the one on top.
Mafuyu froze. Her breathing caught in her throat. The air between them shifted—charged, thick with a strange and unfamiliar tension.
The boy above her no longer looked like just a cheeky, rule-breaking student.
He looked… intense.
His dark eyes locked onto hers, and the way he breathed—slightly heavy, slightly uneven—made her heart stutter.
"N-No… at least wait until after you graduate…"
Her words spilled out in a whisper so soft, even she barely heard them.
Her fingers curled against the bedsheets. Her face, already red, now practically glowed.
What am I saying?! What's gotten into me?!
Azuma didn't answer right away.
He just stared at her.
Not with lecherous desire—but with something more dangerous.
Possession. Obsession. Longing.
Since the moment he made his ridiculous harem declaration, Yukima Azuma's desires had gradually intensified. And now, those desires were crystallizing into action.
He didn't want to let go of anyone important to him.
Especially not her.
Kirisu Mafuyu said she'd leave after graduation.
That single fact weighed on him like a death sentence.
And so he'd chosen these words—deliberately vague, purposefully provocative—to force her to think differently.
Right now, Yukima Azuma was acting like a yandere.
He wanted her close.
He needed her not to leave.
Even if it meant tying her down with promises and guilt. Even if it meant being a little twisted.
Kirisu Mafuyu saw the truth in his eyes and trembled—not from fear, but from something deeper, more conflicted.
There was a time when he felt more like an adult than a high school boy. His eyes often carried a burden beyond his years.
But this moment?
This childlike stubbornness… it revealed something raw and honest beneath his controlled mask.
She remembered the day she visited his home, when they weren't teacher and student, but Kirisu Mafuyu and Yukima Azuma—two people, stripped of titles.
She had promised then to learn about his past.
To listen to his truth.
Maybe I do have a responsibility…
As a teacher, it was utterly improper.
As a woman?
It felt painfully human.
Would he one day start a family of his own? Would she just fade into a vague memory—"that teacher I used to know"?
She didn't want that.
Not anymore.
She didn't know when her thoughts began to change, but they had.
Right now, beneath his gaze, she couldn't lie to herself.
"It seems… something like what you said has happened before," she muttered.
Feigning thought, she gave a tiny sigh, then nodded.
"Alright. I understand now. As your teacher… I won't break a promise. I'll take responsibility."
Azuma's eyes widened.
And then, a gentle smile curled on his lips.
"Thank you, Mafuyu-sensei."
She turned away quickly.
"U-Umu… Hurry and get up already!"
"Ah, my bad. Please forgive me, Mafuyu-sensei~"
The weight lifted from her body as he bounced up like a spring.
Kirisu Mafuyu sat upright, her hands immediately darting to adjust her collar and sleeves, as if rearranging her disheveled dignity.
She refused to meet his eyes.
What did I just agree to…?
Even though she didn't regret it—not at all—the sheer embarrassment of such an ambiguous promise made her want to crawl under a kotatsu and never emerge again.
"Well then," Azuma said casually, brushing himself off, "I'll head out for now. Shiratamaru and Hogyokumaru haven't been fed yet."
He walked toward the door with a composed expression—as if nothing strange had just happened.
The moment the door clicked shut—
Kirisu Mafuyu exhaled.
Her fingers drifted to her cheek. It was still hot.
Then down to the corner of her lips.
Am I… smiling?
She was.
A small, genuine smile she hadn't even noticed was there.
For the first time, she acknowledged what had always been obvious.
Even if she had never helped him clean the room…
Even if they had never sat on this bed together…
Could she really let Yukima Azuma go?
No.
From the day she stepped into his home, when she chose to learn about his pain, she had been drawn in.
Today's events were just the surface.
The truth was far deeper.
I've already fallen in.
And strangely, after giving him that "wrong" answer…
She felt relieved.
"…Yukino, I'm so sorry."
She whispered the apology softly, hands covering her face.
Guilt +1.
End of Summer.
With the Ryuuou finals behind them, summer vacation had reached its tail end.
A new school term loomed on the horizon.
Which meant…
"AZUMAAAAA!!"
"HELP! Lend me your homework!!"
Eriri stormed into the house like a cartoon explosion, waving her arms and wailing like a banshee of regret.
She looked haggard, her blonde twintails disheveled, still dressed in her frilly homewear.
Apparently, she had spent the last month either watching anime or lazily drawing doujins… and now she remembered summer homework was a thing.
"Sayuri told me school starts tomorrow!" she shrieked.
Azuma sighed deeply.
"Sasuga Aho Baka Eriri…"
And just as Eriri opened her mouth to beg again—
SLAM!!
A new force entered the room.
Kirisu Mafuyu.
Eyes glowing with righteous fury. Hair tied up with military precision. She looked like a final boss.
"SAWAMURA-SAN!!"
Eriri flinched so hard she dropped her backpack.
"S-Sensei?!"
"Summer homework is to be completed by yourself! It is essential for academic progress!"
"Your last exam barely passed—you were this close to remedial classes!"
"Uwaaaa! Don't scold me like I'm a kid!" Eriri cried.
"You are a kid!"
Azuma watched them bicker like a sitcom cold open.
He shook his head and smiled.
This house is going to be lively again…