"Yes. I'm absolutely sure, Hiratsuka-sensei." Utaha answered without hesitation.
"Sit down and tell me everything clearly. No need to rush." Hiratsuka took a drag from her cigarette.
Utaha pulled over a chair and sat across from her, a serious look in her eyes.
"I'm certain—I'm being followed, Hiratsuka-sensei."
"A few days ago, on my way home after school, I felt someone stalking me. It always happened after I left the school and passed through that shopping street..."
Utaha calmly recounted the events.
"So, you don't actually have concrete proof that you're being followed?" Hiratsuka asked.
"That's true. But my intuition is very sharp—rarely wrong."
Utaha nodded quickly, a trace of memory in her expression.
She continued, "I've had people follow me before, but they were just classmates wanting to confess. They never took it this far."
"But this person followed me all the way home. The feeling only vanished near my house."
"You have to believe me, Hiratsuka-sensei!"
As she spoke, Utaha looked straight into Hiratsuka's eyes.
She had complete faith in her sixth sense.
It had proven accurate many times.
The most recent example—Yoru.
And she hadn't been wrong.
"...Alright, I believe you." Hiratsuka stared into Utaha's eyes and decided to trust her.
Everyone had talents beyond the norm. What's so strange about that?
Some people could memorize an entire book in an hour. Some had a nose as sharp as a bloodhound.
"Thank you for trusting me, sensei." Utaha breathed a sigh of relief.
"So… you suspect the culprit is Kitakami?" Hiratsuka asked again.
"No. He's just a suspect. It might be him, maybe because he holds a grudge against me. I did see him at the bookstore that day..."
"Or it could be someone else who saw him steal my stockings and panties, and decided to copy him."
"Of course, it could also just be a creepy old pervert."
Utaha's wine-colored eyes narrowed slightly. Her expression was serious, and her slender fingers tapped the desk rhythmically, showing her tension.
"So you want me to call Kitakami here and test his reaction?"
"He's so fat. How could he possibly follow you without being noticed?"
Hiratsuka sighed and couldn't help but joke.
"..."
"That's... a fair point..."
Utaha went silent for a moment, then stood up and left a final sentence behind as she exited through the back door.
Hiratsuka watched her go, then stretched with a troubled look.
Ever since the school term began, she had been secretly observing Yoru's every move.
She saw his effort. She saw his changes.
It's just that others hadn't noticed yet.
Not long after, Yoru arrived at the office.
Hiratsuka motioned for him to sit.
"...Why is this seat still warm?" Yoru muttered as he sat down, patting the chair with his chubby hand.
He had no idea—
Just moments ago, that chair had been warmed by the plush, black-stocking-clad thighs of a stunning girl.
"Kitakami, how have you been lately?" Hiratsuka got straight to the point.
Yoru blinked in confusion.
He had been wondering why she called him here.
Just to ask how he was?
"...Doing okay. I've been working hard—to avoid getting expelled," Yoru replied flatly.
"Where do you usually go after school?" Hiratsuka hadn't planned to ask this, but since Utaha had come to her directly, she figured it was best to help sort things out.
At least it might spare Yoru some trouble later.
As she asked, she studied his reaction.
"Go home," Yoru answered, scratching his head and glancing around the office.
What exactly did Hiratsuka-sensei call me here for?
"I know you haven't joined any clubs. Do you want to join one?" Hiratsuka continued.
Ah, just for this?
Join a club? No way.
To be looked down on, insulted, rolled eyes at?
Besides, what club would even accept someone like me?
Yoru thought to himself, shaking his head hard and politely declining Hiratsuka's offer.
"Then is there anything you need help with?" Hiratsuka asked again, idly lighting a cigarette.
"No…"
"I've been reviewing like crazy lately, but it doesn't feel like I'm making much progress," Yoru said hesitantly.
"Oh, that's simple. You're looking for someone to help you study, right?" Hiratsuka raised her bold eyebrows.
Yoru nodded.
"I'll figure something out for you. You can go now," Hiratsuka waved him off.
Yoru stood up, glanced at her in disbelief, but still thanked her.
Just as he stepped out, Utaha entered from another door.
Hiratsuka took a puff from her cigarette and spread her hands expressionlessly.
"Ah… damn it!"
Now that it was just the two of them in the office, Utaha no longer held back. She grabbed her head in frustration.
Deep down, Utaha was truly scared.
A pervert was watching her from the shadows, even following her near her home. Who wouldn't be scared?
"Do you want me to walk you home?"
Hiratsuka looked at her and stood up.
"No need. I'll go straight to the police."
Utaha hesitated, then shook her head and quickly left.
Her hurried steps showed just how anxious and fearful she was.
"Was it really the panty thief who's following her?" Hiratsuka muttered and sat back down, lighting another cigarette.
Leaving the office, Utaha went to the restroom to splash her face. She stared at her reflection in the mirror.
Anxiety, fear, panic...
Her complex emotions were nearly written all over her face.
Only the pepper spray and folding knife in her bag gave her a bit of comfort.
Good thing she always kept them on hand.
After patting her bag, Utaha left the faculty building.
On the way, she ran into Eriri heading toward the club building.
Two tigers can't share a mountain. Naturally, their eyes met and sparks flew.
Or maybe the mountain was just too small.
No, this wouldn't work!
The mountain just needs to be big enough—so big that other mountains feel ashamed in comparison—then it can hold two tigers. Maybe even more.
"That woman…" Eriri stared at Utaha as she walked by, full of dissatisfaction.
"Such a fake," Utaha shot a glare back, temporarily setting aside her internal turmoil.
To outsiders, Eriri was a haughty and adorable half-English noble lady.
Who would guess that behind the scenes, she was a best-selling doujinshi artist?
Her mask was perfect, her persona flawlessly acted—everyone was fooled.