1.21 - A Story About a Married Teacher Who Becomes Obsessed With Her Female Student

Chapter 1: "The Scent of the Sea Doesn't Reach Me" - Part Twenty-One "Have you calmed down?" "Ah— yeah... a bit, I guess." If crouching in despair could be considered calm. I can no longer even grip the half-empty plastic bottle. I have to go home. Right now. And I have to thank and apologize to Togawa-san. I'm sure I've caused trouble for Hoshi-san as well, and there's a mountain of things to do. Yet, my body refuses to move. Normally, I'd tackle things one by one, but right now, my head feels overwhelmingly heavy. Togawa-san lightly clears her throat and glances away. "Here you go. I washed it just in case. Here." "Huh...?" In Togawa-san's hand that was behind her back is a piece of women's underwear. I recognize the familiar pattern—mine!? "Wh—Wh—Wha!?" I leap up from the bed in a panic, feeling my face drain of blood as I frantically check through my clothes. Nausea sets in, and my back fluctuates between hot and cold, indicating my rapidly deteriorating condition. "That's mine!" "It is, sensei's." My trembling lips render me incapable of asking coherent questions. Not how it’s in Togawa-san’s hand, but why it's there. Worst-case scenarios race through my mind, filling my vision with chaotic lines. "This is what happened, Sensei..." It's too scary to hear. While I struggle to decide whether to cover my ears or scream, Togawa-san gently puts down the underwear. "When you said you needed to go to the toilet, I took you there. You hit your shin on the toilet seat and fell. You started crying, saying you couldn't go alone, so I helped you take off your underwear," Togawa-san explains. "I want to die." As I prepare to dive out the window, Togawa-san grabs my arm and shoulder, preventing my escape. "Stay strong, Togawa-san." "No, sensei, you should be the strong one." "I feel like I could be swallowed by the earth right now." "It's okay, sensei. I didn't peek when you were peeing." "Aaaaugh!" A scream, akin to a newborn's wail, escapes me naturally, resonating within my jawbone. I clutch my head, writhing. Writhing. Wriggle! I cannot bear to look directly at my student. Togawa-san holding my underwear, the repeated mention of using the bathroom—it's all too much! A snapping sound echoes in my head. My mind reaches its limit, breaking, calming instead. My body leans awkwardly to the right. With a weak eyeball shift, I confirm the bruises on my shin, resembling deep sea marks. There are two or three dark reefs there. Ah, I see. For the first time in my life, without hesitation or conflict, I bow deeply to the ground. "I'm sorry!" "It's okay, it's okay. You were cute when you cried and clung to me like that," my student reassures me with a gentle smile. "I really want to die." "No, you mustn't. And for now, let’s put your underwear back on." "Ah… gosh…....ah" I was so pathetic I couldn't find the words to describe it. Half-crying, I take the freshly washed underwear and put it back on. I can't believe my student had to wash even my underwear. The thought of this makes me want to throw up. The slight drop in airflow around my lower half almost makes me collapse in tears. When I turn around, I notice Togawa-san, uncharacteristically expressionless. She focuses intently on me. "Togawa-san?" "Oh… um, nothing. Let’s talk downstairs." Her gentle smile returns as she briskly leaves the room. Something feels off, but I lack the energy to investigate further. Letting out a groan akin to a zombie, I clumsily exit the room. Naturally, the hallway is unfamiliar. Though I’ve visited Togawa-san's home, I hadn't seen the second floor. I want to die. I walk down the stairs with such light steps that it's strange that I didn't fall. I want to die. When I reach the bottom, it was indeed Togawa-san’s house. Staying over without notifying my husband—a mistake washed over by the morning light. Some might say I'm giving everything up. I want to die. I've never made such a big mistake in my life. Huh, what? I drank too much and stayed at a student's house, and had to get their help to pee? It was a morning where things I couldn't have imagined until yesterday were lined up in order of height to greet me. "Teeheeheeheehee." "Scary..." Laughter is my only option when facing this nightmarish reality. Without it, my heart would wither and die. Facing each other across the living room kotatsu table, a disheartened teacher who couldn’t even relieve herself and a beautiful high school girl with a winning smile sit together. I should have served as a role model to teach this cute student both in the classroom and in life, but my all I showed her was the filth of society. "I'm sorry for being a piece of trash teacher." "...Sensei, you haven’t done anything you need to apologize for." I have, though. "I got drunk at a hostess club, blacked out, relied on a student’s help, and going back in the morning… my head hurts." Headaches assaulted me from every conceivable direction. What am I supposed to tell my husband? Sleeping in my suit has left it creased beyond excuse. Stray hair scatters across my vision, and I lack the energy to smooth it back. I'm exhausted even though I just woke up. "Hostess clubs are no good, Togawa-san." "Looking at you, I’m starting to agree." "No, it's not the hostess club that's the problem — it’s just me that's no good..." I cradle my head in despair, tears threatening to spill over from sheer embarrassment. There’s no one to comfort those tears, so I wipe them away roughly with my arm. Togawa-san smiles awkwardly at the sight of a grown woman crying in the morning. "These things happen, Sensei." "Do they really!? Does everyone experience something like this!?" Do all teachers rely on their students to take off their underwear in the bathroom!? "Maybe not." Togawa-san retracts her hand wisely. Shee's right, Togawa-san is extremely right. I might have inadvertently taught that being a teacher doesn’t require basic functional independence. "Aaaaugh." "Sensei, please stop scaring me." "I'm sorry..." Lacking the will to continue, I slump facedown on the table. The table’s coolness feels comforting against my cheek. My head hurts like it's being hammered from above. If my head would just be crushed under the pressure, maybe I’d find relief. "...You were drunk, so it couldn’t be helped, right?" Out of pity for the useless trash before her, Togawa-san attempts to reassure me. Despite her words, I see no escape route through the tears clouding my vision. Perhaps, this is what people mean when they call me earnest. Resting my arms on the table, I lift my face, refusing to lose sight of myself. "Even if I'm drunk, what's not inside me won't come out." "Eh?" "Even if I'm not conscious of it... everything I do, everything I say... is all my true feelings." What I don't have inside me can never come out under any circumstances. I couldn't use alcohol as an excuse to escape from it.