Chapter 20 - Birth Of A New FEELING...

After lessons were over our teacher announced,

"Sakurai Takemoto come to my office after lessons immediately." With a stern gaze.

Who?

Me?

What did I do?

"What did he do this time?"

"Someone appears to be in trouble."

"Well, he has been slacking off a bit too much lately."

May that be the reason?

After a few moments I followed Momorioka-sensei to her office.

At least I'm glad it's not the staff room.

The feeling of being surrounded by teachers is scary, even if you didn't do anything wrong.

Like a well-mannered boy, I made sure to knock the door as I didn't want to appear disrespectful.

-Knock! -Knock!

"Come in."

When I opened the door and entered inside, I was greeted with a sweet fragrance in which I am sure it is her perfume, but still…

There's just something with a mature woman's perfume that's just different from all others which makes males go wild.

And I'm no exception as my heart rate increased clearly throbbing.

'Calm down! I have to stop this now!'

When I looked at her, I once again questioned how the creator even managed to sculpture her to that level.

She is indeed gorgeous.

Even more as there are no right words to describe her.

Trying to describe her is a disgrace to her beauty.

I closed the door as I made my way to her desk, clearly avoiding looking at her and her gaze as I took the seat opposite to her divided by the desk which had some textbooks, and other miscellaneous stuff.

I'm not avoiding looking at her because I am shy, or she's beautiful or whatever, believe me there is nothing that makes me want to stare at her more like a creep. Even she has first-hand experience about my gazes, but as I mentioned before, I don't need any unnecessary trouble…

And I'll obviously react.

I need to start establishing a good image for myself.

And it starts now!

Otherwise, nothing will change if I don't change.

It appears that she had started marking her workload of exercises which I feel sorry for her that she has to go through all those books everyday but what can I do?

That's her occupation.

The room was quiet for a moment as the only sound audible was that of her ball-point pen marking students' exercise books.

"Want to tell me what's wrong with you."

What does that mean?

Nothing is wrong with me!

"I don't understand, ma'am."

"Really?"

Even if there was, there is nothing now.

"Yes ma'am. There is nothing wrong with me."

"Recently, there has been a huge drop in your academic scores. Other teachers are informing me that you are not taking their class seriously. Even I observed that too during my lessons."

She talked whilst still focused on marking the books.

"And the past couple of days, there were bags under your eyes like you were not getting enough sleep."

Oh! She means that.

"I was going through some challenges but I finally managed to resolve them. There is no need to worry about me anymore."

"What challenges? As your teacher, although it's not my duty, it is my responsibility to make sure the well-being of all my students. That's why I am your homeroom teacher and parents entrust their children to teachers. If you feel like you have any problems, feel free to consult me about them."

"…"

"I know how tough it must have been. Having to grow up living alone at a very young age like you have no parents even if you have them. That may be a reason why your character is a bit out of order. Because there is no one to correct you."

"Don't worry, I just want you to realize that I am there for you. I understand that you are still a child and you may do some stupid things but that's the part of growing up and in the gradual process you will learn from your mistakes. Because that's what education is all about."

"Of course, you may send some unsightly unfriendly gazes towards your agemates but that's what puberty is all about and you are technically a boy after all so don't let it get to you."

"Thank you, teacher."

"But that doesn't mean that you have to keep doing things like that. If you keep acting up on them you may get consumed and become an enemy of your own self."

"I have seen that happening to other students countless of times and it gets worse after the transition."

Transition?

Oh, she means DET.

"Thank you for the advice, teacher."

"You are free to go now, I have to finish my work." As she continued with her work.

"Yes."

Then I stood up about to leave.

When I was in the middle of heading out before I reached the door, I did something crazy.

"Teacher?"

"Hmm?"

"Mind if I hug you for a moment?"

"…"

"…"

I asked this as it just came in the spur of the moment.

It's not like I had planned it.

"Why would I allow you to do that?"

"That's because as you said before, I spend most of the time alone at home and I grew up without a mother. So I just wanted to know what having a mother feels like."

"Are you taking me for an old lady?"

"No! That's not what I meant. You don't have to do it if you don't feel comfortable about it. Sorry for asking something unreasonable."

I wanted to leave as soon as possible as I felt shame for what I had asked.

"Its fine. Come here." She said as she pulled her chair back from the desk and turning it sideways.

She agreed?

With unsteady steps, I walked until I was right in front of her.

I saw her opening her arms wide waiting to embrace me.

Seeing this, I hesitated as I started having impure thoughts.

I could not avoid it having such a woman in front of me.

Seeing my hesitation, she pulled me close as I fell in her embrace, my face landing in her soft plump breasts as I hugged her back while my knees gave out.

She smells so nice.

She was so soft.

She was very warm unlike any other thing I have ever felt.

I was hit with a warm feeling in my chest but not the usual one I have towards other girls.

Instead, it was a different kind of sensation.

A new one at that.

I felt warm in her arms.

I felt love.

I felt motherly love.

Although I wanted to rub my face in her chest as this was a perfect opportunity to do and I may not find it again, I could not find any strength to do it.

It's not about morals.

Its about the feeling I got from her.

Its about the feeling that I was getting right at this moment.

As of right now, I just wanted to embrace this feeling for a little longer, if not forever.

I wanted to feel this warmth inside me forever.

Her embrace, I wanted to feel it more.

It made me forget everything as I felt like I could say anything.

Let me be a pervert later but as of now, I did not want to ruin this moment.

So this is what it feels like.

Mother's love.

I felt like tears wanted to come out but I somehow restrained myself.

And I failed miserably at that as they started pouring out endlessly.

Whilst she noticed that I was staining her clothes wet with my tears, she didn't try to push me away but instead she pulled me closer in her embrace as she started caressing my hair gently with her fingers.

I was being pampered and I did not hate it.

I wanted her to pamper me more!

Is this what having a mother feels like?

I'm so envious of other people who have them but say they hate them.

I have heard a lot of people trashing their mothers with a straight face.

How could they hate their own mother?

How could they say those things relating to their mothers?

I don't understand.

I just don't understand.

As if afraid that this was all a dream I would suddenly wake up from, I held her even tighter as I glued my small frame with hers not intending to let her go.

Mother, why did you have to leave me like that!

Its not fair that you had to leave me alone.

You could have stayed a little longer.

My tears poured endlessly.

I don't know for how long I kept crying but I am pretty sure it was a long time.

Yet, she didn't complain.

She even stopped her work so that she could take care of my selfish request.

She understood every single thing about me.

She knows I have pervert issues but still allowed me to do that.

She did not deny me, instead accepted me as it is.

I will forever cherish this feeling in my heart even if it's just this once.

This woman, I will forever cherish her in my heart.

If she was my mother, would I get to experience this feeling everyday?

But I have to be strong.

I can't remain with weak emotions forever.

It was at this moment that I swore to myself to never cry again.