1.26 - 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 26 "Sensei, your hands are smaller than mine." "Mmm." The "smaller" in her statement pricks at me. "I'm shorter than you anyway, Togawa-san." "Did that bother you?" "Not really. What's your height, anyway?" By my estimates, it's no more than a ten-centimeter difference. But there is a noticeable gap when I meet her gaze. "Last time I measured in spring, I was about 168." "Oh... that makes sense." I'm around, or maybe just shy of, 160 centimeters, so it's quite a difference. Plus, considering her age, Togawa-san still has plenty of potential to grow. Looking up, I see Togawa-san's face right next to mine, and we stare into each other's eyes This is not the distance between a teacher and a student. Stiffening, blushing, and excitement. The simple, undiluted beauty of her face strikes me mercilessly. In all my years as a teacher, despite having more interactions with teenagers than most, never have I met one I could unequivocally call a beauty like this. I hadn't noticed it before, but now I can't take my eyes off her. Maybe I've contracted a disease that makes beautiful things appear even more exaggerated in my eyes. There was only one name for the disease that I could think of. "Sensei?" Maybe because I was staring at her so intently, Togawa-san look puzzled. She crosses out the name that came to mind with several black lines. "By the way, I realized they call me Ichi-sen, don't they?" I change the topic to cover my awkwardness, recalling the impromptu nickname given by the students earlier. Ichigohara-sensei, shortened to Ichi-sen. "Yeah, that's what everyone calls you." "If they don't use my full name, maybe that means I've earned some affection." "Nobody calls you by that name. Ichigohara is too long." "I see..." Honestly, I don't care what they call me, but maybe that's why I lack authority. "I don't use Ichi-sen, though." "Really?" "I hate calling you the same as the other girls." Togawa-san's lips purse in a show of wanting to be special, which makes my face flush with warmth. Ever since that memoryless night, I somehow feel that Togawa-san is even more adorable. Any resistance to growing closer is gone, and I feel a strong desire to hold her hand. Even without memories, actions linger as lived experience. What did I gain from that night? All I know is that I hit my foot in the toilet and cried, and I was on the verge of crying now. "Anyway, I really wanted to thank you today... for everything you did for me." "Hmm." Togawa-san's reaction is hard to read. She smiles vaguely, looking into the distance. "Thank you and I'm sorry." "Yeah. Having both is nice." Her response is cryptic and hard to grasp. It feels like there was a difference between what Togawa-san and I saw that night. Of course, there was. I remember none of it. What I know is secondhand truth. And right now, I want to bury even that truth. "And, this is a personal request, not as a teacher..." "Hmm?" Stepping down from the sofa, our hands still linked, I awkwardly assume a dogeza posture. I've gotten used to this act in just a day. "Please keep the bathroom incident a secret!" I bow my head, pleading, while laughter echoes above my head. "From your perspective, that makes sense." Togawa-san steps off the sofa as well, gently lifting my shoulders and head. "I won't tell anyone. It'll stay between you and me." She raises our joined hands to face level, smiling. "Sharing it would be such a waste." Chills run down my spine at her words. It's as though my skin feels the unseen sharpness of Togawa-san's fangs. We retake our seats on the sofa, closer together, shoulders nearly touching. This is not the distance between a teacher and a student. It's much closer, perhaps too close. I don't know if I'm qualified to choose those words, but... it was the sense of distance that love is made of. Love, of course, comes in numerous forms. Love for one's neighbor, friendship, a desire to protect, maternal instinct... and sexual love. What Togawa-san feels for me has yet to be labeled, something we both deliberately left undefined. But its nature is surely the same as the kind of love I feel for her. "Actually, I went to your house first, Togawa-san. When you weren't there, I tried the station, and luckily, we bumped into each other." Was it really fortunate? I glance down at our intertwined hands. Her hand conceals my wedding ring. Even though I never hold hands with my husband, this girl is eager to latch onto me at every chance. And when I realize that this hand has taken off my underwear, I feel a sense of unease and excitement. If I were to quantify them, the feeling of unease was about one hundred million, and the feeling of excitement was around six million. "Oh, you came around. Even though it's by chance, I'm glad we met..." Her eyes momentarily go distant but return with a shining sparkle. "In that case, Sensei, give me your phone number. And let's exchange Line contacts." Togawa-san suggests jubilantly. "We'll never miss each other again with a direct line." Though she presents it like a brilliant idea, such actions aren't permissible for my position. Refusing while our hands are physically linked is perhaps laughably hypocritical. "With a student... that's a step too far..." SNS connections with students are forbidden. Personal interactions outside school can often cause issues. Teachers and students, only a few years apart, are still very much people; given continuous interactions, emotions can indeed flourish. Just like, undeniably, what's happening now. "Why not?" "Favoring only a single student is..." "You don't want to?" She tilts her head, puzzled by the notion. Her question hits home. Did I not want to show favoritism? There was no question about it. From the start, I only viewed it as impermissible. And of course, that's correct. Teachers must be impartial. But what is and isn't permissible are simply rules. They aren't a measure of my feelings, but external guidelines. So, I set that aside and ask myself. Do I want to show favoritism or not? Do I wish to treat Togawa Rin as special? The answer, evident from my past actions, came quicker than any contemplation. "Then, if I keep Sensei's bathroom incident secret..." "Togawa-san, that's unfair." I don't want anything like that to come between us. Our bond shouldn't be transactional. Even if our late-night outings and playing catch could be seen that way, trading secrets is entirely different. The words emerging from me felt resolute, solid like stone.