Ch. 68.2 - The Downfall of Shihou Chouko Pt2
“Excuse me. May I borrow a mop from your cleaning staff?”
Meanwhile, out in the hallway, Harutaki was not, as Chouko imagined, sulking in humiliation. Instead, he approached the front desk wearing the same mild, apologetic smile.
“I accidentally spilled a drink. Sorry about that. I’ll clean it up myself.”
“Oh, no need! Our janitor will take care of it. You don’t have to trouble yourself, sir.”
“I’m really sorry. My family raised me to clean up my own messes… Besides, my classmates are singing right now, it’d be rude to interrupt them.”
His smile was gentle, almost dazzling, the picture of a well-mannered honor student.
“Well, if you insist. Here you go. When you’re done, just leave it in the room, our staff will retrieve it later.”
As the boy walked off with the mop in hand, the clerk couldn’t help but sigh in admiration.
Such a polite, handsome young man, what a rarity. That beautiful girl from before must be his girlfriend, right?
Harutaki, of course, had no idea he’d just been scored as a “perfect boyfriend” in a stranger’s head. And the clerk, in turn, had no idea that the boy’s real reason for borrowing a mop was to jam the karaoke room door, keeping Yobitani and his friends from escaping or chasing after them once the police arrived.
Returning to the room, Harutaki leaned the mop casually against the wall nearby, took a quiet breath, and slipped his expression back into calm neutrality before reentering.
He sat down beside Chouko once more.
Perhaps because he and Yobitani had agreed to “let him have the first turn,” the senior didn’t seem nearly as irritated as before by his interference.
“Time’s about up,” Yobitani muttered, glancing at the digital watch on his wrist.
Harutaki caught the motion, and found his mind wandering absurdly. Didn’t I forget to buy a new watch when I went to the mall the other day?
He’d already called the police and planned everything. The fact that he still had room in his head for such trivial nonsense said a lot about how composed he was.
Beside him, Chouko’s body began to sway. The triazolam was finally taking effect, her soft frame growing limp, eyelids heavy, like someone who’d stayed up too late and could no longer fight the pull of sleep.
“Mm…?”
What… what’s going on?
The room’s spinning. The lights are blurring, splitting in two, so is Hoshikawa-kun’s face.
Her thoughts, slow and sludgy, couldn’t keep up.
“Remember to use protection, Hoshikawa-kun,” Yobitani’s distorted voice came from somewhere nearby, dripping with sleaze. “I don’t want anyone else’s fluids mixed in when it’s my turn~”
That tone, those words. Even through the fog in her head, their meaning was unmistakable.
It was… the juice?
Her sluggish mind forced itself to piece together the sequence of events.
“There’s an unmanned love hotel just nearby,” Yobitani’s voice went on. “Perfect for a quick visit. I’m gonna enjoy every second with those filthy, bouncing tits.”
No.
No… no, please no…
A girl’s first time, her purity, it should only be given to someone she loves.
Her breathing turned ragged. One hand clawed desperately at her thigh, the pain keeping her barely conscious. The other tugged at her collar and ribbon, trying to dispel the suffocating haze in her brain.
Her legs trembled, kicked weakly against the floor, but she couldn’t stand.
If she didn’t move now, if she didn’t get out, something irreversible would happen.
“Uu…”
Yobitani’s leering face loomed over her, his grin obscene, blurred but unmistakable.
Someone… please…
Onii… where are you…?
Why wasn’t he here, like he always used to be, scolding her, pulling her away when she did something stupid?
The instant she stopped struggling, time seemed to slow, like sand trickling through the narrowest part of an hourglass.
And in that frozen moment, a memory surfaced, Harutaki’s calm, measured voice.
“Since it’s a mixer, and the rooms are private, I’d suggest you avoid eating anything inside or drinking anything unsealed, Shihou-san.”
I’m sorry…
Her throat tightened, unable to form the words. Tears welled, spilling down her cheeks as her consciousness faded.
Hoshikawa-kun… please… help me…
Like a drowning girl reaching for a floating branch, she fought to keep her eyes open, reaching out with everything she had toward the boy who loved to tease her, mock her, make her flustered.
Through the dimming vision, as the world darkened to a hazy film reel, she finally saw his face, calm, expressionless as always.
“According to our agreement,” she heard him say coldly, “Shihou-san’s mine first.”
Agreement…?
Even as her mind sank deeper into the dark, her heart clenched tight with fear.
He… made a deal with Yobitani-senpai…?
The “trophy,” of course, was her.
But then, if Hoshikawa was truly planning to do this, why had he warned her over and over again?
Had her dismissive attitude disappointed him that much?
And yet, as she recalled the image of his face in those final seconds, a strange, pitiful thought crossed her fading mind:
If it’s him… it’s still better than that disgusting Senpai. A hundred times better…
But still,
Even as the last fragments of her will slipped away, she prayed silently in her heart, unable to speak, unable to move,
Hoshikawa-kun… please… help me…
If she could just believe that he would save her, then even if he didn’t, she could blame him later, blame the boy she liked for not showing up in time, push the guilt of losing her purity onto him instead.
Just like when she was little, spoiled, selfish, and terribly aware of it.
What a horrible girl I am…