Haruka stood at the threshold, her heart pounding against her ribs. The door swung open, and a tall, elegant woman greeted her with a warm smile. "Welcome. You must be Kazetani Haruka-san," the landlady said in a soft yet commanding voice. Her dark, flowing hair framed her youthful face, and her casual sweater clung to her figure in a way that exuded effortless confidence.
"I-It's a pleasure to meet you!" Haruka stammered, stepping inside as the landlady gestured her to enter. The apartment had a cozy, welcoming atmosphere, but Haruka's nerves refused to settle. "I'm sorry for asking you to come on such short notice," the woman continued, her tone gentle yet professional. "I'm Suzumori Chihiro, the landlady of this Futaba Apartment building."
Haruka's eyes darted nervously, taking in her surroundings as she followed Chihiro to the small living area. She couldn't help but think, Wow, I didn't expect her to be this young. Despite the woman's reassuring demeanor, Haruka's thoughts raced. I can't relax just yet!
Once seated at the table, Chihiro folded her hands, her expression becoming more serious. "I wanted to leave this part for last, you see…" she began, trailing off deliberately. Haruka's breath hitched, her mind screaming in panic. What is this 'other condition' she mentioned earlier?
Chihiro leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table and clasping her hands together. Her serious demeanor grew heavier, and her next words struck like a bolt of lightning. "You have to be a futanari."
Haruka froze, her mind blank as her thoughts failed to process the statement. "Huh?" she finally blurted, her voice trembling with confusion. The sudden intensity in Chihiro's eyes made it clear this was no joke.
Chihiro sighed softly, her expression softening slightly, but her tone remained firm. "Being a futanari is rough. I should know… I am one." She leaned back in her chair, folding her arms as if reminiscing about hardships long endured. "My libido is really high, so I would often feel like… well, let's just say certain situations made life difficult. During field trips, I couldn't even enter the bath with the others because my reaction would give everything away instantly. Wearing uniforms, skirts, and swimsuits was an ordeal. The constant exposure to prying eyes made everything worse."
As Chihiro spoke, Haruka sat stiffly, unable to find the words to respond. "Futa?" she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. Her bewildered expression mirrored the storm of emotions brewing within her. The situation spiraled further out of her control with each passing second.
Chihiro stood, her confident stride taking her across the room. "And that's why this apartment exists," she explained. "A cheap place to live without the constant inconvenience of hiding who you are." She gestured toward the cozy surroundings, the calm atmosphere of the apartment a stark contrast to the storm of revelations Haruka faced.
Haruka's gaze shifted downward, her cheeks flushed red as Chihiro's words settled in. The landlady's parting comment struck a final chord: "This is my way of making life comfortable—for me and anyone like me. Now, allow me to confirm…" Chihiro's sharp gaze locked on Haruka, her intent clear. The weight of the condition loomed heavier than ever.