1.27 - 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-Seven 'Why are you so desperate?' someone is asking. You're so caught up in the facade of teaching, eager to show favoritism, yet half-heartedly trying to grasp both past and future. Togawa-san, though likely not entirely serious, pulls back her smile in response to my words. "Sorry. Yeah, you're right, sensei." I wondered if I might be more attached to the concept of 'relationships' than Togawa-san herself. I didn't want to sense any calculating intent from this girl. "Let's put all that aside and just exchange numbers. I want to do it with you, sensei." Togawa-san's intentions and feelings come straight at me. There's no attempt to hide her immense affection. I'm caught between joy and conflict over being liked. This heavy sensation deep in my chest feels familiar, a buried memory coming back to haunt me. "As long as you promise to keep this secret from everyone else," People, I suppose, gradually loosen up and sow the seeds of their own undoing in this way. Togawa-san enthusiastically shakes our clasped hands, brimming with joy. She has the demeanor of a big puppy... adorable. She unabashedly displays her innocent side, making her all the more endearing. It becomes so overwhelming that 'adorable' is the only word I can muster—like being smothered by cotton candy. I take out my phone from my bag and exchange numbers with Togawa-san. The phone, seldom used beyond calls with my husband, feels heavier in my hand. I can no longer negligently leave this phone lying around at home. "If this gets out, it'll be a major problem... it might even lead to disciplinary dismissal." Even the extravagant indulgence at a hostess club could be grounds for dismissal if it comes to light. "Yeah, that would be bad. I won't tell anyone," Togawa-san nods earnestly. Forming a immoral connection with such an honest child feels off. The notion that mere ties could be viewed as wrong is something I find baffling. It's concerning when I become critical of the system just because it doesn't suit me. "It's not a bad thing," Togawa-san assures me, as if seeing through my unease. "Because I just want to talk to you, sensei." In Togawa-san's case, it genuinely might be the only thing she thinks about. Her desires seem genuinely pure. Innocently, candidly, with an indifference to anything else. "Me too..." A muttered phrase that never fully forms collapses along with my path of retreat. Another layer gets added to our secret connection. While I'm leisurely sitting and gazing at the phone number, this should be a situation where I should feel more alarmed. But given how I already felt a metaphorical death when called the 'peepee teacher', I find myself in a resigned mood thinking nothing else matters now, with a sense of reckless abandon. A life of regret either way. "Done. Is the number correct?" "Yeah, it's right," I peer at the screen Togawa-san shows me, confirming her registration under 'Itsuki-sensei.' That's my first name—Itsuki. Though she's clearly labeled me as 'Sensei.' "It's just your first name." "Yeah." Togawa-san puts down her phone with a cheerful expression. "I don't like your last name, sensei." Her expression doesn't match her words of rejection, leaving me at a loss. "R-really?" Her previous demeanor showed no hint of this, catching me off guard. "Uh... you dislike strawberries or something? Are you allergic?" "I didn't mind it before. But now, I dislike it." "Now...?" "You're the modern literature teacher, figure it out yourself." She had no intention of elaborating further. My surname... Ichigohara. Something that was never originally mine. Surely not, I think, averting my eyes from this reality. Soon after, a message arrives from Togawa-san. "Oh, it reached me," I check the message while noticing the brilliance shining again on Togawa-san's beaming face. I gasp. My eyes freeze on the spot. 'You were staring at my legs, weren't you? Pervert.'