In front of me, the teachers' locker room door seemed to grow with every passing second.
The dark wood. The gold plaque with the word "FACULTY". The dimly lit hallway behind me...
Everything conspired to make that door feel like the entrance to another world.
And from the other side, in low but unmistakable tones, came passionate applause.
Clap... Clap... Clap...
They weren't theatrical applause.
They were rhythmic.
Constant.
Like a metronome of skin against skin.
(To enter or not to enter... As a man, I know the ideal thing is to take a peek. A gentleman wouldn't ignore it. But... I'm no gentleman!)
My hand trembled on the doorknob.
Sweat ran down the back of my neck, cold despite the steam filtering from under the door.
(I am Sienna. I am a girl. Technically. Legally. Biologically... more or less. I can go in. What's the worst that could happen?)
I slowly and gently slid the door open.
Shhhhh...
The wood slid on its tracks with an oiled whisper.
The locker room was empty.
Metal lockers lined up against the walls.
Polished wooden benches.
White towels folded on shelves.
Everything spotless. Everything silent.
Except for the bathroom at the back.
That's where the sounds were coming from.
They weren't applause anymore.
They were thuds.
Thump... Thump... Thump...
Like a boxer punishing a punching bag in the early hours of dawn.
(What the hell...?)
I walked carefully toward the source of the noise.
My steps were quiet, muffled by my PE sneakers.
My ankle protested with every movement, but I ignored it.
My instinct—that old instinct of Dani's that never turned off—was telling me something wasn't right.
As I got closer, the noise became more violent.
THUMP... THUMP... THUMP...
The bathroom door vibrated slightly with every impact.
I pushed it half-open.
The bathroom was... normal.
White tiles. Gleaming sinks. Unfogged mirrors.
At the back, a solitary shower sprayed water in a constant cascade: shhhhhhh...
But there was something else.
Something that didn't fit.
The screams.
Clumsily muffled.
As if someone were trying to stifle them with their own hand.
And on the floor, scattered like fallen petals, clothes.
A white blouse.
A pencil skirt.
A black lace thong.
(Shit. Shit. Shit. What is going on here?)
I walked toward where the water was splashing heavily.
Splash... Splash... Splash...
The rhythm was irregular. Frantic.
And then I saw her.
It was a teacher.
A woman with dark brown hair, soaked, plastered to her skull and shoulders.
Her thighs moved harmoniously against the edge of the shower wall, but it wasn't a sensual movement.
It was a movement... animalistic.
THUMP.
Her hip slammed against the wall.
THUMP.
Her hand gripped the edge of the tiles.
THUMP.
Her eyes were squeezed shut.
Her lips moved in an unintelligible murmur.
Her body jerked like a runaway machine, pounding the wall like a hammer against a nail, over and over, with a violence that was anything but human.
She was a goddess.
A manic goddess.
A fine lady turned into a beast.
(What the fuck...)
My Excalibur awakened immediately.
A familiar tug under my clothes, a stiffness I didn't ask for but that my body—this damn hormonal body—imposed on me without consultation.
(No. Not now. Not here. Focus, Sienna. This isn't normal. This woman is not okay. If I stay, I'm done for.)
I backed away.
One step.
Two steps.
The tip of my sneaker brushed against something soft.
Fffffft...
Then my tablet vibrated with a notification in my jacket pocket.
Bzzzzt.
Time stopped.
Not literally.
But it felt that way.
The woman stopped moving.
Her head turned slowly, like an owl detecting a mouse in the dark.
Her eyes—red, bloodshot, glowing—locked onto me.
I ran.
I managed to take three steps before my injured foot got tangled in something.
The black lace thong.
My toes caught on the elastic, and my already damaged ankle twisted with a tiny, sharp sound.
Crack.
"Ahhhh!"
I fell.
The tile floor greeted me with a brutal impact.
The pain pierced me like a spear: from my ankle to my hip, from my hip to the back of my neck.
(It hurts. It hurts. Damn it, it hurts.)
"Well, well..."
The voice came from the shower.
It was no longer a murmur.
It was a purr.
"Look what we have here..."
I opened my eyes through the pain.
The woman was standing in front of me.
The water continued to fall behind her, silhouetting her against the steam.
Her breasts bounced with every step she took toward me, firm, naked, pearled with water drops.
Her eyes held a hungry gleam in the dimness of the bathroom.
"A little delinquent."
"Look..." she said, leaning toward me.
"I thought it was explicitly said that coming here was forbidden."
Her nose neared my neck.
She inhaled.
"That... that smell..."
"I'm so sorry! I feel terrible!" I yelled, dragging myself backward.
"You _feel_... what, exactly?" she smirked, tilting her head.
(Please, please, don't do anything. Don't touch me.)
"My..." Her eyes narrowed.
"You're Hiroshi's daughter, aren't you?"
(Those eyes. No... they aren't a teacher's eyes. They are the eyes of a beast.)
I tried to stand up.
My hand pressed against the slippery floor, my muscles tensed... and my ankle gave out.
Smack.
I fell again.
She walked past me, brushing me with her bare hip.
Her skin was hot. Too hot.
"You have a strange scent on you..."
Click.
The bathroom door closed.
The sound echoed like a death sentence.
"Don't worry," she turned, her smile twisted and wet.
"I think I found something better than what I was doing."
I crawled backward, vainly trying to put some distance between us.
My back hit the cold wall.
"Well, well... Tell me, are you in Class 2 or Class 1?"
(Wait. I can't just hand over my authority. If I tell her who I am, what is she going to do with that information?)
"And why should I tell you?"
Silence.
Her red eyes blinked.
Her head tilted, like a dog that doesn't understand why its prey is still trying to bite.
"Listen, you idiot..." she said, her voice dropping to a dangerous growl.
"Take a good look at how we are right now."
(True. She's naked. I'm on the floor with a broken ankle. There is no escape.)
I leaned against the wall and, with superhuman effort, stood up.
My ankle screamed, but I endured it.
"An adult like me... will not succumb to such tyranny!"
She stared at me.
"Hey... my eyes are up here."
"Eh..."
Swoosh!
Her hand lunged toward me.
I dodged on instinct, but my reflexes were too slow in this body.
"Where are you looking?!"
Swoosh!
"Shit!"
Her hand grabbed me by the throat.
Not with lethal force.
With precision.
Like someone holding a puppy by the scruff of its neck.
"L... le... let me go..." I tried to grab her wrist, but her fingers were like steel.
"Incredible... I see you're an adult with special qualities, huh?"
She let go.
I fell to the floor, coughing, gasping for the damp bathroom air.
"Hey..." I panted.
"What would they say if word got out that you're doing this to a student?"
"Hehe..." Her laugh was deep, guttural.
"They won't say anything. We're all responsible adults here."
She leaned toward me, her breath smelling of something sweet, cloying, artificial.
Her fingers traced my cheek, trailed down my neck, and stopped at the edge of my shirt.
"So tell me... are you a carnivore... or are you like the majority?"
(Papa Wilson... Grandpa... Friend Fujimaru... Today, I graduate.)
My eyes closed.
My fists clenched.
And in the back of my mind, a voice—Dani's, Sienna's, both of them—screamed:
(I'm not going to die here. Not like this. Not today.)