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Tokyo Chapter 180
🕑 Added 2025-08-20 12:59:52 +0000 UTC“How do you usually play with that girl using this thing? Can you tell me about it?” Ichika asked curiously.
Like anyone encountering something new, she was deeply intrigued by everything in this realm.
Shuichi scratched his head, a bit embarrassed. “With her… Ichika-san might find it a bit hard to accept. Normal use doesn’t satisfy her. It’s always in front of her family, me secretly controlling it with my phone while she pretends nothing’s happening. That’s what makes it thrilling…”
Ichika listened intently as he described the details, picturing the scenes in her mind. Suddenly, she spoke up, “Speaking of which… that dice of yours, Shuichi-kun, can it control mine too?”
Shuichi froze, momentarily confused by her meaning, but Ichika quickly clarified.
“Being controlled by someone else… doesn’t it feel different from doing it yourself? Like how tickling yourself isn’t the same?”
Her eyes sparkled with curiosity, as if she were simply gathering material for research.
“Want to try it, Ichika-san?” Shuichi asked, picking up his phone to confirm.
“If it’s not too much trouble for you, Shuichi-kun,” Ichika replied with a gentle smile, her gaze flickering with a hint of anticipation.
“Trouble? It’s nothing for you, Ichika-san,” Shuichi said, pressing a side of the dice.
A soft, melodic moan slipped from Ichika’s lips, its delicate sound echoing through the living room.
Her brows furrowed slightly, as if adjusting to the sensation, her expression so captivatingly vulnerable that it stirred an urge to pull her into an embrace and comfort her.
“It’s… definitely different,” She murmured, legs pressed together and angled to the side, her hands lightly clenched, biting her lip. “Holding back like this… trying to act natural… it’s quite challenging.”
Shuichi couldn’t help but wonder what kind of article or column she was writing that required such material. Was she trying to experience the mindset of a daring seductress?
“That sound… is it seductive?” Ichika asked, her breath slightly uneven, her moist lips catching the light as she sought his opinion.
“Very seductive,” Shuichi replied, swallowing hard.
“But you don’t seem too affected, Shuichi-kun. You must be feeling particularly restrained today…” Ichika noted, gradually adjusting to the sensation, her demeanor becoming more natural.
It helped that the default mode wasn’t overly intense.
“Ichika-san, are you hoping I’d get carried away?” Shuichi asked tentatively.
Ichika tilted her head, pondering for a moment before laughing softly and shaking her head. “I’m not entirely sure. Part of me is curious to see if you’d react to me like this, but another part hopes you wouldn’t…”
Shuichi nodded thoughtfully. “Worried I might lose control? I get that.”
It was clear Ichika still struggled with a sense of security, deeply afraid of being coerced into something she didn’t want—whether it was “saving” her, “changing” her, or anything intimate.
If another woman had said this, Shuichi might have scoffed, but with Ichika, it was worth taking seriously. Her allure was undeniable, and even after being thoroughly drained earlier, he wasn’t sure he could resist her completely.
Ichika fell silent for a moment, lost in thought, before suddenly saying, “But… could you hold me again, Shuichi-kun? Like before.”
Shuichi blinked, sensing the dangerous undertone in her request.
Was she serious?
Despite her fears and insecurities, she still wanted him to hold her? Was she torn between caution and a desire to push boundaries?
“Is that really okay?” He asked cautiously.
Ichika’s gaze was steady and intense. “I trust you, Shuichi-kun.”
That settled it. Shuichi stood, moving to sit beside her.
Ichika turned slightly, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her gently against his chest. Her smooth, slightly cool back pressed against him, easing all the tension in his heart.
He leaned down, inhaling softly at her pale, delicate neck, his eyes naturally drifting downward. “This trust feels heavy. Honestly, I’m not even sure I can trust myself to stay in control.”
Ichika’s breathing quickened, her neck arching as his warm breath grazed her skin, sending a tingling sensation through her like an electric current.
“I trust you,” She whispered again, “Only you.”
She stifled any further enticing sounds, biting her lip to maintain composure, striving to appear calm.
But her rapid breathing alone was enough to set his pulse racing, making restraint increasingly difficult.
Thankfully, the earlier enthusiasm of the Ogawa ladies had left him physically spent, allowing him a temporary calm.
Shuichi pushed further, trailing light kisses along her neck, delicate and restrained, moving slowly toward her earlobe.
Ichika didn’t resist, leaning into the intimacy, their closeness deepening.
After a while, she murmured, “There’s a slight guilt in my heart, like I’m doing something wrong. Is that normal?”
Shuichi’s hand gently caressed her smooth, flat abdomen. “Pretty normal, I think. I felt guilty too when I first watched those videos, but it fades with time.”
Ichika let out a breathless laugh. “That’s odd. According to health class, these are normal desires. Why the guilt?”
“No idea. Maybe because it’s so private, not something you openly display or discuss,” Shuichi offered.
“Always like that…” Ichika sighed, her breath a mix of relief and lingering tension.
Their earlier closeness had tested his restraint, but her sigh shattered his calm.
“I think we should stop here,” He said, summoning immense willpower to release her and stand.
Ichika looked up at him, her eyes slightly dazed. “Thank you, Shuichi-kun, for indulging me and holding back like this.”
Though Shuichi had explained things to her yesterday, she still felt intimacy should be mutual. Taking without giving felt unfair.
Shuichi sighed, hands on his hips. “What can I do? You said I’m the only one you trust. How could I let you down? But honestly, your charm is overwhelming.”
“Opening up to you was one of the wisest decisions of my life,” Ichika said, her face lighting up with a radiant smile, as if glowing.
“My honor,” Shuichi replied with a grin, waving a hand. “I need to head back to the president for help.”
“Sorry for being so selfish, troubling you and her,” Ichika said, a touch of guilt in her voice.
“No worries. She probably enjoys it. Don’t think too much about it, Ichika-san.”
“Bring her a bouquet from me, as an apology,” Ichika said, tucking her hair behind her ear and handing him a floral arrangement she’d made yesterday.
Shuichi’s eyes caught the sway of her hair, the subtle pressure of the straps against her skin, intensifying his struggle. “Your gaze is getting dangerous, Shuichi-kun,” Ichika teased, sensing the heat in his eyes.
But his earlier reliability kept her trust intact, preventing any overreaction.
“That’s why I can’t stay. I might not hold back,” Shuichi said, taking the vase. “Don’t see me out, Ichika-san, or I’m done for. Goodnight.”
He hurried out, slipping on his clothes at the staircase and leaving the flower shop swiftly.
Ichika exhaled deeply, as if a tightly gripped heart had been released. The emotional rollercoaster left her overwhelmed.
She sank onto the sofa, hugging herself, her toes curling as waves of sensation coursed through her.
A melodic, enchanting moan filled the flower shop, more captivating than the night before.
Danger, at times, brought an even deeper thrill.
---
As Ichika lay on the sofa, the lingering vibrations from the dice pulsed through her, each wave intensifying the heat pooling within. Her breath hitched, her body responding instinctively to the rhythm Shuichi had set before leaving. The delicate fabric of her dress clung to her skin, accentuating every curve as she shifted, her thighs pressing together in a futile attempt to quell the rising tide of desire.
Her fingers trailed down her abdomen, hesitating at the hem of her dress. The memory of Shuichi’s warm breath on her neck, his restrained kisses, and the weight of his hands on her waist replayed vividly. She closed her eyes, letting the sensations guide her. Slowly, she slipped her hand beneath the fabric, her touch light but deliberate, exploring the sensitive warmth that had been awakened.
A soft gasp escaped her as her fingers found their mark, the gentle pressure coaxing a deeper moan from her throat. Her other hand gripped the edge of the sofa, anchoring her as her body arched slightly, responding to the intimate caress. The dice, still faintly active, sent subtle pulses that synchronized with her movements, amplifying the pleasure until it bordered on overwhelming.
“Shuichi-kun…” She whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of longing and surrender. The thought of his intense gaze, the way he’d struggled to maintain control, fueled her imagination. Her fingers moved with increasing confidence, tracing circles that drew her closer to the edge. Her breaths grew ragged, her lips parting as the sensations built, each one more intense than the last.
The flower shop was filled with the sound of her soft cries, each note a testament to the release she sought. Her body tensed, then shuddered as she reached the peak, a wave of warmth flooding through her, leaving her breathless and trembling. She lay there, heart pounding, as the aftershocks faded, her skin flushed and glowing in the dim light.
Ichika’s eyes fluttered open, a faint smile curving her lips. The guilt she’d mentioned earlier lingered faintly, but it was overshadowed by a newfound sense of liberation. She felt alive, unburdened, and for the first time, unafraid to embrace the desires she’d kept hidden.
---
Meanwhile, at the Nagase household.
Sumire collapsed onto the sofa, utterly exhausted. “I’m never shopping again. So tiring…”
Naomi sat beside her, equally drained. “Sorry for dragging you around so long and crashing at your place. I just… really don’t want to go home.”
“No big deal. With our friendship, you don’t need to explain. Stay as long as you want,” Sumire replied, flipping over like a fish, her long legs dangling over the armrest.
Naomi chuckled, then suddenly remembered Shuichi inviting her to stay over once. She hadn’t accepted, thinking she could tough it out at home until things settled. But now…
She sighed, running her fingers through her hair, exposing her smooth forehead. Her thoughts drifted to that intriguing student.
“There’s something…” She started.
“What? Why so hesitant? Just spit it out,” Sumire said, oblivious to the brewing tension.
Naomi hesitated, then decided to ask. “You and… Shuichi-kun. There’s really nothing going on?”
Sumire tensed instantly. Why was that infuriating name coming up again? She’d finally pushed the morning’s events out of her mind.
“Nothing! Absolutely nothing! How could I date a kid like that? Why don’t you believe me, Naomi?” She snapped, teeth clenched.
“Okay, good…” Naomi exhaled, relieved.
“I know you’re worried I’ll mess up, and yeah, teacher-student relationships never end well, even in college. But you’re overthinking it. I’m not that dumb…” Sumire muttered, thinking to herself, 'Date that jerk? I’d rather bite him!'
Naomi gave a self-deprecating smile. “Yeah, I’m the dumb one. Always warning you not to mess up, but I…”
“What?” Sumire froze, then looked up in disbelief. “What did you just say?”
“I said… I messed up,” Naomi admitted, resting Sumire’s head on her lap with a sigh.
“No, wait, messed up how? Like… what I’m thinking?” Sumire’s voice trembled with panic.
Something was very wrong.
“Probably what you’re thinking. When Shuichi-kun came to the infirmary to comfort me, I was a mess emotionally, and in the heat of the moment…” Naomi’s gaze drifted out the window, her voice soft, almost like she was talking to herself.
Sumire’s brain short-circuited. What? After all her warnings about teacher-student relationships, Naomi had gone and… with Shuichi?
“Huh? You… you didn’t go all the way, did you?” Sumire asked, staring wide-eyed.
“No, no, of course not,” Naomi said quickly, shaking her head. “Just… kissing, some hugging, that sort of thing…”
She didn’t mention the glycerin skincare incident.
“It’s not that bad, but still…” Sumire’s mind was a mess, unsure how to process this, her emotions a tangled knot.
Suddenly, she sat up, grabbing Naomi’s face and warning her earnestly, “No way, Naomi! Absolutely not! That guy’s no good. He’s definitely playing you. Keep this up, and you’re done for!”
Naomi didn’t take it too seriously, smiling faintly. “He’s slick, sure, great at sweet-talking. But honestly, most of it was me initiating. Compared to guys our age, Shuichi-kun’s pretty mature. He doesn’t push or act reckless.”
“I’m serious! You can’t keep doing this!” Sumire felt a pang of despair. She was already sinking; she couldn’t let her friend fall too.
“You’re right. I can’t keep this up,” Naomi murmured, her expression dimming.
Seeing her like this, Sumire felt like tearing her hair out. What was going on? Her calm, predictable teacher’s life had turned upside down!
Why were all these seemingly normal people so… abnormal behind closed doors?
The stellar student council president was a secret pervert, the diligent class leader saw her as a rival, and her mature, cheerful friend was entangled with a student…
What was so great about that 2D-obsessed nerd? Why was everyone acting so strange?
Oh, and she was strange too—secretly into cosplay and now spying on students gaming.
Never mind then…
Sumire went numb, curling up on the sofa, hugging herself, at a loss for words.
The world felt alien. Everyone around her felt alien. She felt alien.
'Mom, I want to go back home…'
“Sorry for dragging you down with me. I’ll borrow your bathroom to freshen up. Hopefully, that’ll lift my mood. My moping must be depressing to look at,” Naomi said with a forced smile.
“No need to be so formal. But yeah, a shower might help,” Sumire replied, snapping out of her daze.
As Naomi headed to the bathroom, Sumire suddenly frowned, sensing something off. Then it hit her—she hadn’t finished cleaning the bathroom that morning!
She rushed after Naomi, but it was too late.
Naomi, half-undressed with her smooth, rounded shoulders exposed, stood frozen, staring at a cat tail in the laundry basket.
“Uh… if I said someone left it here, would you believe me?” Sumire asked, her face contorted with embarrassment.
Thanks to Shuichi, she was growing immune to social death. Otherwise, her old self would’ve been ready to jump out the window.
Naomi blinked. “Er… sorry, I didn’t mean to invade your privacy.”
“It’s not that serious. It’s really not mine,” Sumire said weakly, utterly exhausted. 'Just let it end.'
“It’s fine, I won’t misunderstand. Shuichi-kun mentioned your cosplay talks,” Naomi said, a bit sheepish. “I thought you two had something going on, so he explained to clear things up.”
Sumire’s mouth twitched. Great, her social death was complete. “You saw the photos too, didn’t you?”
“A… little,” Naomi admitted, guiltily. A little meaning a hundred or so.
“No way!” Sumire couldn’t take it. “You have to share some of your embarrassing secrets too, or I’ll never be able to talk to you comfortably again. Our friendship’s on the line!”
“Huh? But… I don’t really have anything,” Naomi said, troubled. “You know about my fiancé liking men. I told you about Shuichi-kun just now. Childhood embarrassments? I’ve shared those. There’s really nothing else.”
Sumire felt defeated. Compared to Naomi, she was the weird one. No wonder Shuichi said like attracts like…
But fine. No dark secrets? They’d make some.
“I’ve got a costume. Want to try it, Naomi?” Sumire asked with a mischievous glint, eerily reminiscent of a certain someone.
“Cosplay?” Naomi caught on, giving a wry smile. “Alright, if it’ll make you feel better, I don’t mind.”
That’s what Sumire wanted to hear.
She suddenly understood Shuichi’s thrill. “Go shower. I’ll have the outfit ready when you’re done.”
Naomi nodded, unbothered.
Half an hour later, Sumire sat cross-legged on the sofa, eagerly watching the bathroom door open.
Out stepped a graceful nun, her black-and-white habit accentuating her curves. The skirt, reduced to mere panels, revealed her long legs, wrapped in white thigh-high stockings, fully exposed on the sides.
Utterly captivating.
Click—Sumire snapped a photo, securing her friend’s dark secret. Now they were even, and maybe they’d cosplay together someday.
Naomi laughed, letting her take the pictures, then sat beside her, pulling Sumire’s head into a hug. “You’re such a kid sometimes, Sumire. Adorably immature.”
“You too? Calling me a kid… you’re mocking my figure, aren’t you?” Sumire huffed, indignant.
“I didn’t say that,” Naomi teased, though her eyes betrayed her, glancing at Sumire’s frame.
“Jerk!” Sumire pounced, and the two tumbled into a playful wrestle, the heavy atmosphere dissolving into laughter…
