1.18 - 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 Eighteen Togawa-san explained things one by one, pointing them out as she went along. She let out a small laugh upon seeing me clinging to a futon. It turned out it was Togawa-san's futon; realizing the unfamiliar scent, I quickly let go. "Togawa-san's place... house? Wait, why am I here?" The question surpassed the headache, causing my head to sway silently. It felt like the world was reeling as if I was caught in the crest of a wave. Speaking was difficult, as my jaw and tongue felt tremendously heavy. A sticky fatigue lingered. Without answering my question, Togawa-san handed me a bottle of barley tea. "Here, some tea." "Oh, thank you...?" I took it, still bewildered, and sipped it as she encouraged. The moderately chilled tea soothed my parched throat, trickling down as it passed. My stomach growled strangely upon receiving it. Some moisture returned to my entirely dried-out body, and my creaking insides began to stir a little. As I exhaled heavily, calmness returned except for the residual headache. It was as if she had been waiting for that moment when Togawa-san, who had been quietly standing beside me with her hands hidden behind her, spoke up. "Sora-nee brought you here last night. Sensei, you were so incredibly drunk you couldn’t get back home on your own." "Last... night...?" As if peering into a fissure in a split-open ground, I finally began to recall where I had gone and what I had done yesterday. When Friday arrives, though not as much as students, there's a lightness in one's heart. I don't dislike my job, but a sense of happiness naturally comes if I don’t have to work. However, with exams approaching, there was a lot to prepare. It's a busy time ahead, so— "Senseeei~!" "Oh..." That day, too, when Togawa-san came checking my schedule, I could only unfortunately decline. "Sorry, I have something I need to do during lunch today..." Seeing Togawa-san's dejected look made my chest tighten. "Tomorrow, we'll definitely do it tomorrow." I tried to promise with firm determination as if trying to grasp something with my hand. Togawa-san giggled innocently and ran down the hallway. As I called after her with my eyes, urging her not to run in the hallway, Togawa-san waved from a distance. "Tomorrow is Saturday, you know, Sensei!" Her correction jolted me. Even though I had just confirmed it was Friday, here I was. Am I perhaps too desperate? But I dread it—even slightly disappointing Togawa-san. Just imagining Togawa-san turning away from me sends severe stress-induced stomach pangs coursing through me. "...That's why...too desperate..." Why does just being disliked by Togawa-san feel like being forsaken by the entire world? And it hasn't even happened; it's all imaginary. In my head, anxiety settled in alongside the memory of Togawa-san. What does it mean to remember Togawa-san? Yes, the day's beginning was quite like that. Then, let's see, I think I spent the day normally. My actions at school shouldn't have had any issues. "Didn't you do that today?" In the staff room after school, a teacher of Japanese history addressed me. A somewhat grey-haired, plump female teacher. Without much thought, I immediately recognized what she was referring to. She even made a throwing gesture. "When work gets busy, it just can't be helped." "But using catch to reform students sounds quite Showa era." "Reform is a bit strong, isn’t it? Togawa-san isn't a bad kid at all." "But I've heard she goes out a lot at night." "She doesn’t." I tried to smooth over the voice that nearly became defensive. Togawa-san isn't like that. She just isn't. I want to believe that. "So, it’s Showa. Or Heisei, that works too." "I see." "I quite like that Showa vibe!" When she said, "Isn't it nice?" I had nothing more to say than "I suppose." Naturally, my colleagues were watching too. I couldn’t help wondering if it was okay. This part doesn't matter. It doesn’t connect to the present. It’s not here but somewhere further along. Finishing work and heading home that night, I saw it—the golden butterfly flitting through the night. A golden butterfly dancing in the shadows. Such a fitting expression for flowing blond hair, swaying lightly with each step. I encountered the same person at the same spot as before. "Oh, it’s Sensei. Good evening." She greeted me straightaway, having already shed her work attire—today, she wore a plain shirt, it was Hoshi-san. "Good evening." "Rin’s not with me today." She caught me before I could ask. Still, I checked the surroundings anyway. "Don’t you have too little trust in me?" "I’m looking because I trust you. You might be covering for Togawa-san." I believe she has a good nature in that way. Upon my saying that, Hoshi-san easily accepted it with delight. Light-hearted would be the best description—she seems carefree, without apparent deep concern. Our acquaintance is not deep, so I’m not confident if this is accurate. "Are you free, Sensei?" "Free... well, if you call leaving work free, I guess so..." It's a tricky line. When tired, even with time on hand, it's hard to describe it as free. "How about getting dinner together? Deepening our acquaintance wouldn't hurt." The unexpected invite left me surprised. I wasn’t sure what to do, not having considered us that close yet. "Don’t you have anything you want to ask about Rin?" She dangled Togawa-san like bait, saying something like that. It upset me to think I looked like someone easily lured by such clear tactics. Yet, upon realizing she knew a Togawa-san I didn’t, my heart was hit with a rainstorm of emotions. A Togawa-san I didn't know, a Togawa-san showing unseen expressions with someone I hadn’t met. The paranoia-laden speculations swirled in my head, nearly causing me to lose focus. This relentless desperation—how long will it persist? "I’ll just message my husband; give me a moment." "Huh? Oh, got it." Her confusion about my mentioning a husband left an oddly memorable impression. ‘Going out for dinner with a friend today, so I’ll be home a bit late. Is dinner okay for you?’ ‘In that case, maybe I’ll go for a drink with some colleagues. They just invited me.’ His reply came with a sushi emoji. I suppose he'll be enjoying some conveyor belt sushi. The word 'friend.' Feeling the resurgence of an old friend-like relationship made my heart slightly perk up. Relationships at school typically ended professionally. If I weren’t married, perhaps others might reach out more. Following Hoshi-san’s recommendation, I went along to her suggested place. "…………………………………………" And from this point onwards, memories become ones I prefer not recollecting. The entrance we arrived at was resplendent. A deep blue roof and heavy-built doors. It’s a place normally out of mind, even when catching sight of it. Even with my limited knowledge, I understood what this place signified. "Um...this place?" "A spot to enjoy a drink with some lovely ladies." "This is a hostess club, isn't it?" "It's definitely a good place, don't you think?" Hoshi-san grinned, clearly delighted by the reaction she anticipated. "But, you see, both you and I are women..." "There's no law against women visiting hostess clubs. It'll probably be a great experience. Come on, let's go."