Episode Ninety-Four

Ibara’s palm touched me.

“Wow, so soft. Amazing.”

“…You’ve got your own, haven’t you? Ones far more splendid than mine.”

“True, but it’s different.”

Her breath was hot against my ear.
As she touched me, as if to confirm the shape, her fingers suddenly dug in.
　My body trembled at the sudden sensation.
As if burned, Ibara snatched her hand away.

“Did that hurt?”

“Just a little.”

“I-I’m sorry.”

I thought apologising meant she’d stop touching me, but that wasn’t the case at all.
Like a potter checking the quality of his work, she traced the outline repeatedly, smoothly and repeatedly.
　After pulling away once, Ibara’s touch became terribly cautious.
I could tell she was being careful not to hurt me.

“…Ibara, that tickles.”

“Doesn’t it feel good?”

“…It tickles.”

“Mm.”

Perhaps dissatisfied with my reaction, Ibara’s touch changed.
　Where they had touched timidly, they now moved with purpose.
Like an experiment, testing where and how to touch to elicit a reaction.
The palm, enveloping the entire tip, moved up and down.

“Mmm…”

I clenched my fists on my lap without thinking.
Suppressing an impulse different from pain or ticklishness.
Noticing the change, Ibara whispered in my ear.

“Did you like that?”

“It’s… just ticklish.”

A lie.
But there was no way I could tell the truth.
Still, I think it got through to her.
Ibara’s touch grew bolder.
Stroking, rubbing, pinching.
Drawing out various reactions from my body like that.
I felt like some poorly made instrument.
　I couldn’t tell if Ibara was skilled. Probably not.
But her touch was gentle, and above all, earnest.
More than anything, it was Ibara touching me now.
My princess, adorable and heartbreaking in the most tender way.
My body felt hot. The nerves running beneath my skin felt like they might burn through.
It feels good… I swallowed the words just before they escaped.
　—No more. Not any further than this.

“I-Ibara…”

“What?”

“That’s, enough, so.”

“Enough of what?”

“So, mm.”

How cunning.
Before I could utter my protest, my lips were silenced.
Her tongue moved slowly and deliberately, while her hands never stopped.
The ticklish sensation I’d felt had long since transformed into something else entirely.
　My whole body was taut and tingling, every touch sending sweet sensations through me.
I’d touched myself before, with that very intention.
But this was different.
I curled up, desperately trying to escape the stimulation.
But it was no use. It only built up, refusing to fade.

“Hey, Ibara. Already—”

I meant to say, let’s stop.
But Ibara, misunderstanding something, gently lowered her hand.
Stroking my solar plexus, then below my navel.
Realising her intended destination, my whole body froze.
Idiot. No. There, I mean, now…

“That spot… is enough. Stop.”

“No?”

“It’s not that I say no…”

“If you say no, I won’t.”

Chu. Ibara sucked on my shoulder.

“If you truly dislike it, I absolutely won’t touch you.”

I know.
Ibara would never force her way forward.
But that very righteousness and endearing stubbornness made me inexplicably hateful towards her, just this once.
Because this feels like she’s deliberately trying to make me say it.
My fingers tightened around her wrist.
My nails might dig in and leave marks. If they do, I’ll apologise later.
　This line must be refused.
Yet my earlobes felt as though they might melt from the heat.
The searing heat smouldered in my lower abdomen, refusing to fade.

“We can stop here if you want. But—”

Like a devil, Ibara whispered.

“If we leave it like this, it’ll be hard for you too, won’t it, Shigure-san.”

“…………You’re… awful…”

“That’s right.”

She nodded calmly.

“But you like me even though I’m this terrible and troublesome, don’t you?”

She said it with the most adorable expression.
Cuteness is violence. It strips away every last shred of will to resist.
　Instead of acknowledging it with words, I relaxed the strength in both my hands.
Ibara’s hands were freed.
Even without saying it aloud, what I had just permitted was obvious.
Ibara looked delighted.

“Shigure-san, you’re cute.”

“Cut that out.”

“Right, understood.”

Nodding, Ibara touched the softest part of me.
　A gasp. Ibara was tense too.
Fingers that weren’t mine moved in tiny, quick motions.
Her touch was far more careful and gentle than anywhere else she’d touched me.
Unconsciously, I’d grabbed Ibara’s arm. Not to stop her, but as an anchor to hold myself back.
The voice that escaped my throat was so sweet it felt unnatural, as if it weren’t mine.

“Hey. Shigure-san, look ahead.”

“Huh, wha—”

Lifting my face as instructed, the washroom mirror met my eyes.
Though fogged with droplets, the polished surface reflected clearly.
My current self, and my pathetic expression, melted by heat.

“You right now, Shigure-san. You’re incredibly cute and beautiful.”

“Ah, ahh—”

Blood rushed to my head. If embarrassment could kill, I’d want to die right now.
Embarrassed. Want to die. Embarrassed. Want to run away. Scared.
But.
My heart was pounding like it was about to burst.
Was it the intensity? My vision started flickering.

“…Eh?”

Then my nose tingled, and something started dripping.

“Eh?”

“S-Shigure-san, that—sh——⁉︎”

Ibara was shouting something. But I couldn’t make it out.
The world was dazzling.
My vision began to darken at the edges.

And then I simply lost consciousness.
Due to chronic sleep deprivation and, probably, excessive excitement.