1.22 - 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 22 "Hmmm..." Togawa-san let out a deep, very deep, acknowledging sound, and then she laughed, as if recalling something. Just imagining how much of my disgrace was painted in her mind was enough to break my spirit. "So... I'm an adult who can't even take care of herself alone." Back then, I was truly crying because I couldn’t use the bathroom. It would have been better if I had just died without being able to. Right after saying I couldn't escape, I wanted to throw everything away just to run. With despair mixed in, I looked around and saw a towel draped over the navy blue sofa. Togawa-san must have slept there, giving up her own bed for a drunkard like me. "You should’ve just left trash like me on the floor," I murmured. "But you said, 'I'll borrow the bed,' Sensei, so I said, 'Go ahead.'" "I'm such trash..." Who was that? Me, obviously. Togawa-san should not have given in so easily. She's too nice. "You could have just tossed me out in the yard. The yard sounds fine. Let's go and talk while burying me." "Sensei, you know, I'm glad you came." "You were happy to have talking trash thrown at you?!" Are you a saint or something? No, more like an eccentric. "Enough with the trash talk... I don't like it when people talk so badly about you, Sensei," Togawa-san's brow furrowed with displeasure, bringing me briefly out of my hangover. "Even if it's just self-deprecation, you're really amazing to me, Sensei... I really mean it," she finished, seemingly reluctant to let the words go. Her gentle, rounded voice conveyed her soft emotions without needing further explanation. "I'm sorry..." "If you're sorry, please don't talk like that anymore... okay?" Her gentle admonition made her seem more like a teacher at that moment. But surely, she wouldn’t want a student like this drunk. That’s why I can’t be Togawa-san’s student, I sulked. Maybe I still had alcohol in my system. "Sora-nee mentioned that when you were drunk, you talked about me all night," Togawa-san commented. "About Togawa-san?" "What could you have been talking about, I wonder?" "Even if you ask me..." I might have been shocked by the lack of responsibility the statement conveyed, but it was true. For not knowing Togawa-san all that well, what could I have possibly talked about? Imagining the chaotic scenes from last night, I feared I may have said something careless. I was frustrated with myself for forgetting, yet scared that it might be better this way. "Was there anything else... strange or bothersome that I did? Was everything okay?" Hoping it’s better to know everything given the circumstances, I inquired. "Hmm..." "That's a guilty-sounding response..." Darkness seeped into my heart like my eyelids were gently closing. "I didn’t find it bothersome." "That's a lie—I don't believe it!" Childishly, I thrashed about. Dropping my head, I noticed Togawa's feet extended beneath the table. Succumbing to lethargy, I stared at them intently. "Sensei?" "Ah, I was just noticing you have a pedicure..." Togawa’s toenails, glowing dully in the dim light under the kotatsu table. She lifted her feet out to let me see better—her nails painted a deep blue sheen, quite captivating. They were certainly pretty like this, but— "I get why you’d paint your fingernails, but there aren’t many opportunities to show your toes, so I always thought it was kind of pointless." Maybe it's because I rarely wear sandals. With a vibrant laugh, Togawa-san dropped her feet with a flourish. Then, leaning across the table in that same motion to peer at my face, she broke into a smile. "You saw them just now, didn’t you?" She summed up the essence of fashion in that single sentence. A taste quite different from alcohol welled up from my chest, intoxicating me. "You have a point." Wary of my alcohol breath, I leaned back to avoid bothering her. In that moment of bending backward, consciousness centered in the back of my mind, I suddenly remembered my husband. Oh right, I need to call him. Frantically pulling out my phone, I checked for messages—there was nothing from him. ...Really? His lack of concern during my overnight absence seemed odd, making me worry. In any case, I decided to gather my things and head home. Feeling her gaze, I looked up and saw Togawa-san watching me with a wistful expression. "...I need to go explain to my husband. He’ll be worried." "...I see." Clutching my bag's strap, I shook my hungover head and stood up. I couldn't afford to stretch this any longer. If my husband grew suspicious, it would be hard to maneuver... Why was I worried about maneuvering? Before I could ponder if this ominous thought was my genuine feeling, Togawa-san stood close, surprising me. Before I could react further, she leaned in to sniff softly. "Ahh, you reek of alcohol." "I swear I'll never drink again." While I made my vow, Togawa-san leaned in once more, taking in my scent. "And you smell like me too." Her comment pierced my heart like a needle. "Do I...?" Togawa-san chuckled softly, and all I could do was laugh along awkwardly. She saw me to the entrance, and with great care, I bowed deeply. "I am truly grateful for all your help," I thanked her, even though I showcased my absolute worst behavior. I can only hope she'll allow me to return to the podium as a teacher come the new week. With those thoughts, I lowered my head to Togawa-san. "Sensei." Her gentle voice prompted me to lift my head slowly, as if praising the sun. "Take care on your way." The farewell she chose left me floundering. "Thank you for having me...?" Togawa-san's smile carried a trace of loneliness, revealing her intention that I couldn’t quite grasp. As I stepped out of the Togawa residence, my body felt battered, threatening to falter if I let my guard down. A car sped past on the road the moment I stepped outside, with the sun glinting beyond it, stinging my eyes. The sun shone brightly, as if mocking the rare clear day in the rainy season. I feel as if I've lost something significant. Could this sense of loss be the source of the anxiety and sadness racing through my veins? Glancing up, my jaw opened involuntarily, failing to keep up, and I let out a curse-like mutter. "Ughhhhhh!" I slapped my jaw, struck my cheeks, and endured the pounding headache while clenching my teeth. "You're scaring me, Sensei." Calmly, she remarked after I flung the door open. "I apologize." I've decided to refrain from screaming. Thanks to the myriad of pains, my fuzzy consciousness gradually settled into the frame of reality. Today is Saturday, a clear break in the rainy season, last night I stayed over at a student’s home, my husband hasn’t contacted me, and I need to use the bathroom. Alright. Having come to terms with most of it, I decided to head home, bringing my headache along as a souvenir. As I started walking, the scent of alcohol emanating from me hit my nose. Mixed in with it was a clear, pure aroma. This must be Togawa-san's scent. I focused intently, as if trying to scoop it up, to identify it. Wrapped in the scent that had seeped into me through the bedding, I made my way home at dawn. Had I been a man, would I be suspected of infidelity? The thought elicited a dry laugh from me.