First: by process of elimination, this should’ve been Saku-senpai. Yet to my knowledge, she was all talk—a tease who mocked virgins but turned into a flustered child the moment she was targeted. No way she’d pull this stunt.
Second: if this was Hikami-sensei, it’d be even more insane. She’s a teacher. A high schooler’s teacher. What kind of adult does this? Lock her up for corrupting minors.
Third: Shishihara wasn’t this big.
[When you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains—however improbable—must be the truth.]
Thanks to Holmes’ quote, my thoughts only spiraled further.
My initial deduction (Shishihara first, Hikami-sensei second) had to be correct—
“Wait, hey, HEY…………”
While I fried my brain cells, the “chest attack” didn’t stop—it intensified.
Ah. I get it now. Crystal clear. It had to be Saku-senpai.
She was probably pressing water balloons or some fake props against me, giggling to herself. Obviously. I felt pathetic for almost falling for it.
“Alright, that’s enough. I get it, we’re done…………Seriously, stop…………Cut it out, damn it—OW!”**
Fed up, I undid the cuffs and elbowed blindly behind me. A pained “Ugh!” followed, and the fake chest finally retreated.
“Karma’s a bitch………………Now, let’s remove the blindfold. Ready?”
After a pause, a “Go ahead” came. I ripped off the eye mask and nose plugs, shoved my feet into my shoes, and bid farewell to the bed I’d never missed.
The three women waiting in a row each had distinct vibes.
“G-Good work. Ahahaha…”
It was Shishihara who thanked me for my efforts, but was it just my imagination, or was there a slight shadow in her smile? It was probably because I had elbowed a girl, but it was a kind of self-defense, so I hoped she’d overlook it.
“Hehehe, you got quite a rewarding experience, didn’t you, Tsubasa-kun?”
And as expected, Saku-senpai wore a triumphant smile.
But those fake boobs—I wonder what she used for them. The texture and elasticity were really expertly made. Though I don’t know enough about the real thing to be a connoisseur.
“Um… Hikami-sensei? Are you feeling unwell?”
The reason I got worried was that sensei was covering her mouth as if feeling nauseous.
“Ah, no, don’t worry about it. This much happens often… I’m used to it.”
I figured her hangover had returned, but for some reason Shishihara was completely appalled. “This happens often!?” What an annoyingly loud reactor.
“Well then, let’s finally get to the results announcement. Results announcement!”
“Why did you say it again?”
“The title of King of Sleeping Together goes to which lady?”
“Let’s see,” I pretended to think, but the answer was already decided without needing to think about it.
The final impact had blown everything away, but the fact that I should choose Hikami-sensei remained unchanged. It was needless to say as coolly cold as an inorganic object—
“…I’ve decided, it’s decided. Ahem! The second woman!”
Having resolved to choose the winner of this rigged game, I was quite the ham actor, but…
“Eh~…?”
Shishihara narrowed both eyes to thread-thin lines and held her head as if to say “no way.”
“…Huh?”
Saku-senpai shot an intimidating glare that said “what the hell did this guy just say.” Both of them were quite the actors—the losers’ humiliation was oozing out. I had to complete my dirty work too.
“Honestly, it was overwhelming. The stability was different. She had this feeling of sitting solidly like an ornament without making unnecessary assertions. The feeling of not having to be considerate of each other was very good for not disturbing sleep. After seriously considering it with the intention of staying together until old age… the second lady wins. I’d like to take her home immediately.”
I was able to smoothly voice commentary that didn’t reflect my true feelings.
Good, this should be enough to please Hikami-sensei. Now to give harsh evaluations to the others…
“And the one who was completely out of the question was… the third person.”
I shot a “that’s you” look at Saku-senpai, whose eye twitched.
“So shallow, right? The childish thinking that guys are creatures who’ll be happy if you press your chest against them—like oxygen isn’t reaching your brain—really annoyed me. Also, there was something off about it… it had a fake-feeling texture. Isn’t it stuffed with silicone inside?”
I said this with sarcasm, having perfectly noticed it was fake.
“Tsubasa-kun… why are you saying that to me?”
“Don’t play dumb, it was you, wasn’t it—the third perverted woman… I mean, fake-boob woman!”
In response to my outburst of insults,
“I’m sorry for the fake chest impression… Truly, I’m ashamed.”
The one offering this apology wasn’t Saku-senpai—but the woman beside her.
Hikami-sensei clutched her lower abdomen as if her internal organs had taken damage.
“Well, no wonder you elbowed me… heh heh heh…”
“…………!?”
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In that instant, Shishihara groaned “Agh—!” and looked skyward, while my mind went completely blank.
The only things I barely managed to process were: I had failed the three-choice test. I had assaulted a teacher. That sensation was far from a “fake chest”—it was the undeniable truth of twin peaks towering like sacred mountains upon Hikami-sensei’s torso.
So that’s how real ones feel—tingly and electric. Before admiration could sink in, I wanted to scream:
“Since when do grown adults shove their chests at high schoolers!?”
“Saiin-kun advised me that you’d definitely… enjoy it this way…”
“Have some autonomy, damn it!”
Also, I’m not some boob-obsessed alien. Forgetting even to hold Saku-senpai accountable, I searched for the root of this blunder. The reason I’d dismissed the third option—Hikami-sensei—was the total absence of the yuki-onna’s signature chill.
So then… what? Are snow women’s chests somehow warm?
I’d never heard such data. And it contradicted her ex-boyfriend’s testimony: “Like a corpse—disgusting.” But as I reflected, it hit me—this experiment’s premise was flawed from the start. Why didn’t I realize sooner?
“Can’t sleep with you beside me.” “So cold it kills the mood.” “Feels like a corpse—gross.”
In those scenarios, they were undoubtedly near-naked.
Though branded a yuki-onna as a müdeant, her powers pale next to folklore—she can’t freeze people to death. At best, she’s like refrigerated chicken salad. Skin-to-skin contact might feel icy, but with clothes on? Barely different from anyone else.
“Damn it… I’ve been tricked by narrative sleight-of-hand.”
“Kōmori-kun, stop ogling Botan-chan’s chest. It’s creepy.”
“Uh… so does that mean the second option was Saku-senpai?”
I tilted my head. She had been quiet—and colder than chicken salad.
“Not me. That.”
Saku-senpai, now unfairly labeled impure, pointed at a head-and-torso mannequin leaning against a height-measuring stand. It looked familiar—turns out, it was from CPR training. Not odd for the nurse’s office to store it, but…
“…Care to explain?”
“Exactly what you’re thinking. Plain tests are boring, so I spiced it up… Though maybe stashing it under lockers made it ice-cold?”
“………………………………”
“Want to take it home and sleep together?”
“Don’t sabotage your own damn plan, you IDIOT—!!”
“Ooh, Kōmori’s lost it!”
As Shishihara said, I’d snapped. And I had every right to.
“This is ENTIRELY your fault for making me fail to guess Sensei!”
“Excuse me!? If this were a New Year’s ranking show, you’d be the instant-fail trap option! How’s this my fault!?”
“Just cut the jokes and do it properly next time!”
“It wasn’t a joke—it was a freebie! Or can you honestly distinguish my chest from Hikami-sensei’s? Since when are you a boob connoisseur!?”
“Why default to chest identification!? You’d never have the guts to press yours against me anyway!”
“I WOULD TOO!! I’d endure groping with EASE!! Unlike timid little Maon-chan!!”
“Why am I catching strays!?”
Nose-to-nose, Saku-senpai and I hurled filthy blame—until:
“Ah, youth.”
Hikami-sensei patted my shoulder. No fist met my skull for the racket, yet her wistful tone cut the ugliness short.
“Ohoho… How embarrassing of me. Ahem. Normally, I devote myself to intellectual pursuits, so please don’t misunderstand…”
At this point, salvaging dignity was hopeless. I bowed in Saku-senpai’s stead.
“Our apologies, Hikami-sensei. No ‘misunderstanding’—this is our true nature. Forget advising our club. Frankly, report us if you must. Maybe it’ll force a reckoning for this so-called ‘literary club’s’ purpose.”
“NOOOO! Spare us disbandment—mmph!”
I clamped a hand over our begging club president’s mouth.
“…No, you’re the opposite. A delightfully unshackled group… Just as I thought—you stand at the polar opposite of someone like me.”
Hikami-sensei seemed oddly liberated. Having glimpsed her personality today, I knew this wasn’t sarcasm—but sincerity.
“Opposites… how?”
“No two days in your club are alike. You’re hungry for life.”
“More like our president goofs off at full throttle…”
“You’ll understand someday. With age, the status quo grows dearer. Especially when happy. I’m glad… to have faced reality.”
Adjusting her cashmere-tier lab coat’s collar, she added:
“This custom piece symbolizes it. Leeching off my parents to work here, too. I’m already blessed—wanting more would be greedy.”
Her words held no lies—yet her final, lonely smile betrayed her.
“May you find an advisor as energetic as your club deserves… I’ll pray for it in my own way.”
A classic rejection email. I’d heard it endlessly—numb to it by now. Yet hers seeped deeper, unsettling me.
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