Once the bus was empty, Yoru grabbed his luggage and hurried off.
As he stepped off the bus, Hiratsuka stopped him at the door. "What's your name?"
"Kita...kami Yoru…"
He answered nervously.
This was the teacher rumored to hit students when they stepped out of line!
Hiratsuka nodded, pulled out a pack of cigarettes from her white coat, and lit one.
"..."
Yoru's heart skipped a beat.
"Don't do that again. Staring at a girl's thighs nonstop," Hiratsuka said flatly, blowing out smoke.
"I... I did look at her, but I wasn't drooling over her thighs..." Yoru stammered, trying to explain.
"Then what were you looking at? Why didn't you just say so earlier?" Hiratsuka frowned and gave him a sharp look.
Yoru opened his mouth but didn't know what to say.
"Alright, just don't let it happen again. Go," she said with a shake of her head.
Yoru nodded lightly and quickly headed for the beach. But he couldn't help turning back to say sincerely, "I really wasn't fantasizing about Kasumigaoka's thighs."
Unfortunately, combined with his fat otaku face and aura, his words had zero credibility. If anything, he just looked like someone who hadn't learned his lesson.
"Oh?"
But Hiratsuka actually heard the sincerity in his voice.
Because she understood men very well.
Back in middle school, she'd once been followed by a creepy older man and nearly got assaulted. The trauma had left deep scars.
To protect herself, she began learning brutal martial arts, observing male behavior, and trying to act like one of them.
She naively thought: if I act like a guy, I won't be a target.
That's why she developed her loud personality, love for shounen manga, cigarettes, and booze.
It wasn't until she started working that her androphobia slowly improved.
Because of all that, she understood men—especially boys around this age—and could often guess what they were thinking.
That same experience was also why she never found the right person. She'd been single since birth, never even held a guy's hand.
...
Yoru went to get the extra tent he brought and dragged it to the edge of the boys' camp area under the blazing sun.
All the other boys' tents were grouped together in a circle.
Yoru's stood out—off to the side and clearly isolated.
Luckily, setting up the tent wasn't hard. He took his time, and half an hour was enough.
By then, news of his social death had already spread.
As long as no one added exaggerated rumors, that was all he could hope for.
That said, this private beach really was beautiful...
Yoru thought to himself.
Clear, blue seawater. Soft white sand. Long stretches of shoreline shaded by rows of massive coconut trees.
In the distance was a large beach house with facilities for cooking, barbecuing, showering, or dining.
This spring trip was meant for fun, after all.
And this was just the first day.
There was still sunset shell-collecting, deep-sea fishing, snorkeling, forest hikes...
But Yoru planned to stay in his tent the whole time.
He wouldn't go out at all—except to use the bathroom or shower.
He brought enough food and water for several days. He had manga and games for entertainment. Just stepping outside for even a second made him uncomfortable.
After checking the tent for any gaps, he crawled inside.
It was spacious enough for two, but he had one all to himself.
Everything inside was in order.
Just as he was about to relax, a pair of slender white-stockinged legs passed by his tent.
Both sides got startled.
"What are you doing?!" Eriri snapped angrily.
She had just come up with a brilliant idea to get back at Kasumigaoka, only to forget it completely.
"Oh, it's you?"
Seeing it was Yoru, her expression changed instantly.
She raised her chin, puffed out her little chest, crossed her arms, and looked down at Yoru with pure disdain and disgust.
Yoru saw her expression and quickly apologized, retreating back into his tent.
"Disgusting fat creep. What a bad omen~"
Eriri air-chewed in frustration and stomped off.
Seeing Yoru had triggered her again. Her mind involuntarily recalled a doujin she had read not long ago.
It started cute—a blonde twin-tail rich girl and her childhood friend in a sweet romance.
Then the art style suddenly changed.
A fat, sleazy man—who weirdly resembled Yoru in both body and hair—found out the blonde girl's secret.
And the story twisted into NTR.
The art was beautiful. Too realistic.
Eriri—pen name Kashiwagi Eri—was herself an H-doujin artist and also a blonde twin-tail ojou-sama with a childhood friend she liked.
The self-insert was too strong. The story made her sick, and her best friend and stepsister, Sagiri, teased her for it.
She had finally managed to forget about it, and now Yoru had brought it all back.
Thankfully, this was real life.
Her secret would never be discovered. She would never have anything to do with someone as gross as that creep...
Yoru stayed in the tent for a while, then peeked out after making sure Eriri was gone to fetch his luggage.
"Today really sucks..." he sighed while unzipping his bag.
He made up his mind: from now on, he'd stay as far away from beautiful girls as possible.
Especially girls like Eriri, who looked down on him with that arrogant ojou-sama air—Yoru really couldn't stand them.
Rustle rustle—
Yoru dumped out the contents of his travel bag.
Sleeping bag, food, phone, manga...
"Huh? Did I grab the wrong book pouch by accident?" Yoru suddenly muttered.
A few foot-fetish doujins and some ultra-embarrassing hypnosis ones tumbled out of his bag.
He immediately tossed them aside. He'd already read them dozens of times—the pages were worn out.
After organizing his supplies, Yoru began eating lunch.
Just then…
A delicious smell wafted into his tent from outside, hooking him like a fish on a line.
Under the shade of nearby coconut trees, two large iron pots were bubbling with food.
Everyone had gathered around, holding bowls and plates—students from both the pure and impure classes were chatting and laughing. It looked like they were getting along well.
"Hey, everyone come over and eat lunch together! Don't eat your own stuff…"
"And those of you thinking of swimming—wait till the sun sets! After lunch, you're free to rest."
Yoru sniffed the air hard, but went back into his little nest.
The campgrounds were set up beneath wide patches of shade, with the boys and girls separated by about twenty meters.
Accompanied by a salty sea breeze, Yoru dozed off until evening.
He took a sip of water, crawled out of his tent to go use the bathroom.
He noticed many people in swimsuits at the shore—swimming, combing the beach, collecting shells, digging for crabs.
Some had gone into the woods to gather firewood for a bonfire.
Everyone was having a great time.
Yoru finished up quietly and quickly retreated to his tent.
His mind kept drifting back to the treasure chest above Kasumigaoka's head all the way into the evening.
He really wanted a shower, but there were limited stalls.
He didn't want to run into anyone, so he decided to wait until after midnight.
Suddenly, loud applause erupted outside.
Yoru peeked his head out—the calm ocean reflected a massive bonfire.
"So they're having a bonfire party," Yoru muttered, knowing it had nothing to do with him, and laid back down, trying to nap.
But he couldn't sleep.
Outside, people were singing, playing games, giving introductions, telling stories...
It went on until midnight, and then people began trickling off to shower.
By the second half of the night—around 2 a.m.—Yoru, with dark circles under his eyes, used his phone light to make his way to the shower house to clean up.
Not long after he left, another beam of phone light flicked on.
It flicked off again shortly after, then reappeared a few minutes later, bobbing faintly around the campgrounds.
A while later…
Yoru returned from the shower and noticed lights flashing near his tent.
His heart skipped a beat.
Was someone upset with him? Was someone going to mess with his tent?
He immediately rushed back.
"Whew…"
"Good, nothing happened. Probably just overthinking."
Yoru yawned. The dark circles under his eyes screamed of exhaustion.
He dove into his tent and closed his eyes.