In the familiar hum of the office, I diligently worked at my desk, the rhythmic clicking of keys creating a symphony of productivity around me. Immersed in my tasks, a sudden shift in the atmosphere caught my attention – a sweet fragrance that gently wove its way into my concentration. In that moment, I swiveled in my chair to discover Sakura Miyamoto gracefully gliding behind me, documents in hand. The air seemed to shimmer with her presence, and a sense of approachability radiated from her, turning the mundane office routine into an enchanting moment.
Caught in the rhythm of the office, I found my attention drifting towards the sweet scent that gently wafted through the air. Unable to resist, I finally inquired.
Masamune: "Is that the 'Cocoa Dream' perfume you're wearing today?"
Sakura, her eyes widening in surprise: "Hattori-san, you have quite the nose! How did you know?"
Masamune, offering a playful grin: "Consider me a bit of a perfume enthusiast. 'Cocoa Dream' has this unique quality – unlike other chocolate fragrances. It's intriguing."
Sakura, visibly curious: "What makes it stand out?"
Masamune, leaning in slightly: "It's the subtle hints of vanilla and a touch of spice. Creates a charm that's distinctly memorable."
In the midst of our fragrance-focused banter, a sudden worry crept into my thoughts. Did Sakura think I was crossing a line by recognizing her perfume? Was I being a bit too attentive?
Sakura, with genuine delight: "You really know your perfumes, Hattori-san. Impressive!"
Masamune, relieved and pleasantly surprised: "I was afraid you might think it's weird that I noticed. I'm just into fragrances, and 'Cocoa Dream' is exceptional."
Sakura, with a warm smile: "Not weird at all! I'm thrilled you appreciate it. Most people don't notice these things. It's a refreshing change, Hattori-san."
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Suddenly, a vivid memory surged through my mind, bringing with it the image of her, the embodiment of kindness and tolerance. She's always been like a serene beauty, draped in a white veil of gentleness—at least, that's the impression I had of Sakura.
Yet, the reality before me was unfathomable. Sakura, donned in a nightdress, possessed a glint in her eyes that mirrored mischief—a far cry from the gentle demeanor I was accustomed to. Licking her lips with a subtle sensuality, she uttered, "You must've been tired, right, Masamune-san?" The words dripped with a tempting tone.
"...what?" I stammered, left utterly speechless. Sakura, who typically addressed me formally by my last name, had now adopted an intimate use of my first name—reminiscent of how housewives might address their husbands. The abrupt 360-degree shift in her personality left me grappling for words.
"What kind of dream is this?" I questioned myself internally.
"Want me to give your foot the royal treatment? No? Tough luck! I'm doing it anyway!" she declared.
I, of course, remained stoically silent, fully convinced she was just leading me on. She began to glide her hands over my legs with the enthusiasm of a massage therapist on a mission, eventually reaching my feet. With a professional air, she pressed down on pressure points.
"Ah!" I couldn't help but let out a noise, part surprise and part bewilderment.
"Does it feel good?" she asked, her voice laden with confidence and mischief.
"It feels... It feels—" A momentary pause for dramatic effect before I abruptly replied,
"SO TERRIBLE!! GOD PLEASE! IT HURTS!!"
And just like that, I woke up from my nightmare, sitting up and panting heavily. I ran a hand through my hair, contemplating the absurdity of my own dreamscape massage ordeal.
"I'm glad that I saw Sakura in my dream, but the massage was so terrible that I could feel the pain even after I woke up..."
I sighed to myself, contemplating the bizarre dream, only for reality to deliver a startling revelation—
"Wait—my foot still pains!" I questioned myself in shock. In a sudden surge of courage, I flipped over my blanket, only to be met with a surprising and downright alarming sight!
A red-haired woman with pale, sunken skin was gnawing on my foot! The very same foot that Sakura had been massaging in my dreams.
Reacting on pure instinct, I grabbed my pillow and promptly launched that unsettling creature off my bed. The line between dreams and reality had never been blurrier, and my foot was paying the price for the confusion.