Time flew by, and soon it was time for school to end.
In a typical high school, students attend six classes daily, starting at 8 or 9 AM and finishing around 3 or 4 PM.
After school, they can either go home or participate in clubs or tutoring sessions.
Ousei Academy places a high priority on extracurricular activities, encouraging students to develop various skills.
Therefore, the school stipulates that unless there are special circumstances, every student must join at least one club.
In May, the cherry blossoms continued to bloom beautifully, scattering delicate petals around the campus, creating a scene reminiscent of a pink painting.
"Ito-kun, do you plan to join any clubs?" Haruno Ayato curiously turned to look at Ito Yoshito, who was packing his books.
"I don't have any plans to join a club," he replied, pulling out an application form regarding part-time work, intending to get it stamped by the student council.
"I see," Haruno responded, glancing at the form in Ito's hands.
Rather than asking why he wasn't joining a club, he quietly suggested:
"If the school forces you to join, you can go to the Literature Club. Many people just sign up as mere ghost members, participating in activities only occasionally."
"Thank you for the suggestion, Haruno-san. I'll consider it," Ito Yoshito smiled and thanked him.
"No need for thanks! I'll be on my way now; my sister is waiting for me to help her with her tutoring," Haruno replied.
"Goodbye," Ito said as Haruno walked away.
Once Haruno left and Ito finished tidying up, he planned to head to the student council when suddenly a voice called out to him.
"Hey, Ito-kun, wait a minute!"
Unaware they were calling him, Ito continued towards the door but paused when he heard "Ito-kun" and turned to see who it was.
A girl was running towards him, pulling a backpack.
Her hairstyle resembled Miyajima Sakura's, with a single ponytail tied to the side, but her hair was a striking pink while Miyajima's was a dark purple.
"Did you need something from me, classmate?"
Ito recognized her as the girl who had argued with another long-haired girl in purple earlier that day and had been called into the student guidance office by Shirakawa Miwa.
However, he didn't know her name.
"I'm Tsushima Rina!" she declared with a playful tone, running up beside him and playfully messing with her hair, her smile bright and inviting.
"Nice to meet you, Tsushima. Did you call me for something?" he asked, puzzled by her sudden familiarity.
"Don't be so formal! Just call me Rina," she insisted, opening her phone to display the Line app.
"Let's add each other on Line!"
"Well then, Rina, what do you need?" he asked, appreciating the attractive girl's initiative.
"Oh, let's talk outside!"
Tsushima looped her arm through his and gently tugged him towards the exit.
Despite the presence of numerous classmates watching, she didn't hesitate; after all, she was a well-known "Gyaru."
Ito followed her outside, not fully resistant to her charm.
"So, what's this about? I still have things to do," he said.
"Ah, what a pity! I wanted to invite you to hang out," she sighed, her disappointment evident.
"So you called me just to invite me to hang out?" he asked, surprised.
"Yep!"
"Sorry, Rina, but I have stuff to do—let's save it for next time."
As he glanced at his watch, he prepared to say goodbye.
"Just one more favor, please, Ito-kun," she chimed, casually changing how she addressed him.
She waved her phone enthusiastically and added, "Let me take a picture with you!"
Ito, not wanting to refuse, squatted down.
"Yay!"
Tsushima giggled, resting her head on his shoulder.
While one hand held her phone for a selfie, the other arm wrapped tighter around him.
"Goodbye," Ito said after she finished taking her pictures, standing up to leave.
"See you, Ito-kun!"
Tsushima waved after him.
Once he was out of sight, she eagerly began flipping through the photos on her phone.
"He's such a stud," she thought, remembering how she had baited him into revealing his secrets, smirking at the idea that no man could resist her charm.
"Alright, I've got the pictures; time to show off to Reina!" she laughed at the thought of Reina's envious expression.
Meanwhile, Ito Yoshito made his way to the student council room, knocking on the door.
After receiving a signal to enter, he stepped into the office.
Once inside, he was taken by the elegant decor:
A finely crafted mahogany desk piled with documents, beautifully designed lights hanging down from the ceiling casting a warm glow, and well-trimmed plants neatly arranged around the room.
Beside the desk sat a sleek leather sofa as well...
One couldn't help but feel appreciation for the newly appointed student council president, Mitarai Keiko, whose generosity was evident in the office's aesthetic.
She placed great importance on cultivating students, and it was said that these decorations were all a result of her tenure.
Moreover, she had significantly increased funding for student club activities, but benefits were reserved for academically outstanding or exceptionally talented students.
"Can I help you?"
A voice interrupted Ito's observations, pulling his gaze to the source.
In the spacious office sat another young girl at the center, with a sign next to her reading "Student Council President."
Ito closely examined her.
She was in the standardized student uniform with not a wrinkle on her clothing, impeccably neat, exuding a strong and capable aura.
Leaning slightly on her mahogany desk, her long, smooth black hair cascaded down her back.
She played with a blue hairpin, her piercing blue glasses fixed on Ito as if trying to see right through him.
For some reason, he felt her blue eyes shimmer ominously, filled with an unsettling intensity that put him on edge.
"Here's my application form. The teacher has already signed it. Could you please stamp it for me?"
Ito stepped forward and handed the form to Mitarai Keiko, eager to leave as her gaze felt overwhelmingly pressuring.
"Wait…" she began, but it was too late.
Ito was already in front of her.
"Here."
Resigned, she took the application, scanning it quickly while hoping he wouldn't catch on to anything odd, and hurriedly fumbled through her desk drawer for the stamp.
"Done. Don't linger in the student council office; just head out quickly," she urged, handing the stamped application back to him.
However, instead of immediately accepting the form, Ito first bent down to pick up a banana that had fallen onto the damp carpet.
"Hmm, sure is sticky!"
He placed the banana in Mitarai's hand and then quickly grabbed the application to prevent her from exploding in frustration.
"That's not how you eat a banana!" he whispered in her ear before darting away.
At first, Ito hadn't understood why Mitarai had looked at him with such a resentful gaze when he first entered the office, but upon handing her the form, it all made sense.
The air was thick with a unique scent of pheromones, mixed with the dampness of the carpet, fallen fruit, and the beautiful, slender legs visible under her neatly pressed skirt, glowing under the light, along with her petite, delicate feet encased in damp short socks.
These elements combined created an atmosphere steeped in ambiguity.
After Ito left, Mitarai remained at the desk, her body trembling slightly. Suddenly, a sound cut through the silence.
"He saw... was that a threat?"
---- Mitarai Keiko POV ----
Me, Mitarai Keiko, the student council president known for my integrity, beauty, and formidable presence
Referred to as the "Demon President" by my peers—had always been seen by teachers as a model student and a figure of admiration among my classmates.
To live up to their expectations, I worked hard, proving myself through diligence...
But for some reason, during quiet nights, I often felt a deep loneliness and emptiness. I longed to confide in friends, but their awe-stricken faces made it impossible to speak up. I wanted to talk to my younger brother, but to him, I was always the dependable sister. I craved to reach out to my teachers, yet their proud gazes made it hard to share.
One day, I confiscated a stack of adult magazines from boys in class who were sullen in front of me, admitting faults, while secretly cursing me as a "bitch" behind my back—I overheard them.
Despite the slurs directed at me, instead of anger, I felt a strange thrill, akin to the tingling sensations I got while listening to music—a sort of electric excitement that resonated with me.
It left an indelible impression in my mind; one could accurately describe that feeling as ASMR.
(ASMR = Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response)
I became captivated by that sensation. Not daring to seek validation from others, I began to explore violent-themed media on my own; however, the heated insults didn't evoke any significant response.
I tried other methods, with my initial focus on the confiscated adult magazines.
With a sense of curiosity, I studied them, and that wondrous sensation returned, albeit without the same intensity. Determined, I decided to enact the content I had seen, and that time, I experienced a form of stimulation distinct from ASMR.
Since then, whenever I was alone, I secretly practiced oral techniques, filling the void I felt inside. I was always careful and cautious, so I had never been discovered and had begun to lower my guard.
Today, I was alone in the student council office, unable to restrain myself as I practiced once more.
Perhaps it was the thrill of being in a more public setting with a banana that made me particularly eager, and my mouth produced more saliva than usual, soaking the mask I wore.
When I reached my limit, I saw him, the intruder entering my Eden, interrupting my sacred prayer to the heavens.
I glared at the man, trying to project an invisible pressure, yet the audacious jerk didn't run off.
Instead, he approached—was he seeking his own demise?
No!
That's not right!
Don't come any closer!!!
"Wait…"
But before I could finish, the annoying jerk had already reached me.
I froze, hoping he wouldn't notice anything unusual.
He stood beside me, explaining his request while I quickly took the application form, scanning it before returning the stamped version with a firm urging for him to exit.
However, such were my optimistic thoughts.
Reality was cruel.
He noticed something.
The sacred scepter of my power could not escape his grasp.
Though he returned the tainted scepter to me, I knew it wasn't out of kindness.
He sought to color me with his influence instead.
As expected, he spoke the spell I feared, "That's not how you eat a banana!"
Though I had anticipated some backlash, I was still unprepared for the crushing blow that followed.
His heated tone washed over me like steamy vapor, wreaking havoc on my mind and body.
This meant I was experiencing a dual climax!
It was then that I recognized his identity:
Satan!
The false serpent from hell, luring the pure Eve of Eden into corruption!
Mitarai Keiko raised her eyes, pink with innocence, gazing after the man as he departed.
"I've been discovered… was that a threat?"
Her thoughts twisted as she contemplated her predicament.
"There's nothing I can do. I'm just a poor, helpless girl trapped by a monstrous demon. I have no choice but to comply… yes, that's it!"
As she spiraled deeper into her thoughts, a dreamy smile crept onto her face.
--- End of Mitarai Keiko's POV -----
Meanwhile, Ito Yoshito remained blissfully unaware of Mitarai's elaborate inner monologue, completely oblivious to her fantasies of being forced into submission to him.
Ito was simply thrilled at the thrill he got from exposing the student council president's little secrets before rushing away.
Strolling along the school paths lined with cherry trees, showered by falling petals, Ito leisurely enjoyed the beautiful scenery.
"Oh, Masaru Oga, I hope you can provide some strength later and bring a little joy to me," he mused, unable to suppress a grin.
The frustration he felt from the earlier encounter with Tsushima lingered, and he wanted Masaru Oga and their friends to help him unleash that pent-up energy.