The sll of oil still clung to the food as the chopsticks shoved it straight into his mouth. Rough, unceremonious, that was exactly the kind of feeding Harutaki expected from Nogami.
But when he bit down, he froze in disbelief—
The batter, though sitting all morning, still carried a faint crunch. It locked in the flavor and juices of a plump shrimp, with just a trace of salt and sea as it cooled…
This wasn’t so prank bento.
This was restaurant-level cooking!
Next ca chilled sashimi, fresh as though packed over dry ice, shoved in piece after piece without restraint. Even when the wasabi nearly scorched his nose, his taste buds were satisfied beyond belief.
Until her chopsticks suddenly stopped feeding him.
The piece of tuna pressed to his lips lingered. The chopsticks didn’t withdraw. Instead, they scraped slowly against his tongue.
Salty wood slid over the tip of his tongue like a fingernail. Then the sticks parted, trapping him in between. The sensation was obscene, like a girl sticking her fingers right into his mouth.
Several seconds of wordless teasing later, Nogami finally withdrew the chopsticks with maddening slowness.
“How is it?”
Her playful tone brushed his ears, the chopstick tips now tapping at the groove above his lips.
How is it?
What even was that?So kind of blindfolded couple-play?
Clueless how to answer, he mumbled,
“…Tasty. But I’m still hungry.”
“My, my… what a greedy little dog you are~.”
Suddenly, sothing pressed against the tip of his shoe. Before he could react, that softness slid up his leg—over shin, knee, until it rested beneath his chin.
The scrape of fabric, the firmness of a hidden bone beneath—
“It’s Izumi’s right foot, you know.”
Minako’s devilish whisper tickled his ear.
“And this ti, she’s not wea-ring shoes~.”
In the darkness behind his blindfold, a vivid image burned into his mind: toes wrapped in navy-blue crew socks, the fabric stretched taut at each joint, the curved nail of her big toe already grazing his throat—
Damn his imagination.
“At least wash your feet first. They reek.”
He scowled, scooting backward on his palms as if fleeing.
A lie. Pure lie.
Without PE that morning, her feet had no sll. If anything, they carried the faint fragrance of fabric softener.
Bullying, my ass!
This was a reward!
And with his teenage body already prid with restless urges, if Nogami kept pushing like this, he really might crack and humiliate himself right here.
“Fufu… Minako, your thod… actually worked.”
If Harutaki’s eyes weren’t bound, he would have seen Nogami herself struggling to hold her composure.
For an inexperienced girl, this sort of flirting was way too intense. Yet the rush of trying it, she couldn’t deny the thrill.
Why?
Why did watching his conflicted expression—half resistance, half anticipation—make her heart race?
“Still want more?”
Nogami smirked, lips curled with arrogant delight.
“If you’re hungry, beg for it. Bark like a good doggy.”
“…I hereby authorize Nogami-san to use my likeness freely in tonight’s dreams. Knock yourself out.”
His retort was imdiate, rciless.
“You—!”
“Easy, Izumi. Rember what we agreed on?”
Minako reined her in, leaning close to whisper sothing too soft for him to catch.
The unused classroom fell silent. Dead silent. Harutaki counted his heartbeats—seventy, maybe more—before the silence broke.
Clack.
Sothing small hit the floor.
“If you won’t obey, fine. Pick up my chopsticks. Use them yourself.”
“Make sure to pick them up… hard. Really… firmly~.”
Minako’s words lilted with innuendo, twisting the simple act into sothing dirty.
What the hell kind of phrasing was that?
It was just chopsticks—so why did it sound so… dirty coming from her lips?
Fed up, he reached for his blindfold to rip it off and go eat in the cafeteria.
But Minako caught his wrists.
“Nope. Keep it on. You have to find them blind.”
With no choice, he crouched down, palms sweeping the floor.
The silhouettes of the three girls faintly shifted through the cloth, but small things like chopsticks vanished in the blur of light.
From the sidelines, Sae chid cheerfully:
“A bit further! Yeah, just ahead of Izumi’s seat. You’ve got this, lil’ bro!” For original chapters go to novel⸺fire
Further forward…?
Curiosity piqued, appetite still whetted, he played along, stretching his hand outward, fumbling left and right.
“Oi, Hoshikawa, found my chopsticks yet?”
“Don’t rush …”
“Or maybe you like this? Pretending not to find them so you can drag it out, pervy liar-boy?”
“Careful, Nogami-san. That’s slander.”
“Humph. Then lower your head and sniff. You might just sll them out.”
…Sniff the chopsticks?
Well, they had soy sauce and wasabi on them, so maybe—
Wait. What the hell am I even thinking!?
This was insane. Pure gaslighting nonsense!
Still, judging from the sound earlier, they couldn’t have fallen far. He reached further—
Click.
“Ga over already?”
“You should’ve tossed them further, Izumi.” Sae’s voice ca from his right.
Then Minako’s whisper brushed his ear again:
“That’s not Izumi’s chopsticks you picked up~.”
“…I say they are.”
“Nope~ You’re holding… my chopsticks.”
Her coy, sultry voice made his chest jolt.
“You’ll have to find Izumi’s if you want to pass~.”
Oh, so they wanted to keep playing? Fine.
He inhaled deeply—the air heavy with food aromas, sharp vinegar, and…
There. That faint, familiar scent.
He reached straight toward it—
…and grabbed sothing soft.
Too soft.
It felt… right. Almost too right.
Then realization struck: in the middle of lunch break, in school, he was groping a girl’s foot.
That faint fragrance—it wasn’t soy sauce. It was the sa fabric softener scent Nogami carried.
And her reaction—
“Y-you… what the hell are you doing?! Take your hand off—!”
Her voice was tight, teeth clenched, trembling with restraint.
“…Thanks for the al.”
Harutaki calmly withdrew his hand, though the lingering touch burned into his skin.
At this rate, even if it wasn’t her chest, he’d have enough to write a full essay for Asama-sensei’s moral corrections.
But before his shaken nerves could settle, Minako piled on with devilish timing:
“Oh? Looks like Izumi’s chopsticks fell under her skirt~.”
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