Disciplinarian teachers are something that hasn't survived the transition from the Showa era. Back then, the gruff, stubble-ridden, jersey-wearing, shinai-wielding gym teachers who would get hands-on with unruly students were either manly supportive of the (direly in need of a paternal figure) delinquent crowd, or comedic foils often obsessed with bloomers, but, to modern sensibilities, maybe the idea of dealing corporal punishment with an actual weapon to underage students may seem slightly harsher than it did back then.
The Japanese education system, after all, would rather deal emotional trauma than physical.
Still, the archetype is so iconic and representative of a bygone era that it has been shrined in otaku culture with plenty of representations. From the always wholesome (and perverted) Eikichi Onizuka and his heartwarming escapades, to that skeevy guy in hentai games with a female lead who should have maybe thought about changing schools after the first incident with a too thorough check on whether or not her skirt length followed regulations. In those cases, the wholesome part is usually omitted, even if the perverted one remains.
Still, that's what the straightforward heirs of that long-gone tradition show us, with a figure either bulging with rippling muscle or just bulging, according to the genre and tags, but what about the modern reimagining? Because, if we've learned something from manga and anime so far, it's that authors are desperate creatures who have never had an original idea in their lives and thus need to constantly recycle what came before them—I mean, that ideas and archetypes constantly evolve into newer, better versions of what came before.
One only has to watch Dragon Ball Super to understand how true this always is.
"So… I guess I don't have to tell you why you're here?" one of said reimagined heirs tells a very bemused Iroha and me.
We're sitting behind the partition that turns a corner of the teacher's office into a secluded spot for the guidance counselor to offer her manly support to misguided delinquents in dire need of a paternal figure.
The misguided delinquent, in this particular instance, is me. The guidance, with this particular counselor, was her tongue down my throat and her ass over my painfully hard erection.
Going by her crimson cheeks, slightly irregular breathing, and unwillingness to meet my eyes, the always manly Miss Hiratsuka perfectly remembers our moment of wholesome, PTA-approved bonding that went on precisely on the very leather chair she's squirming on.
That is: my first kiss.
"Before I answer that question, are we being filmed?" I, perfectly reasonably, ask her.
And she, perfectly naturally, shoots Iroha a wary glance.
… Fine, I walked straight into that one.
"It would be illegal to record a student without their consent," Shizu finally says with a very pointed look as Iroha tries to decide whether to be embarrassed or proud.
"And it's very unlikely that another teacher will walk in here right now, is it not?" I continue my line of questioning, unperturbed by the implication that Iroha's voyeurism may have been at all illegal. After all, we all know that unlawful recordings or photographs used for blackmail of a sexual nature cannot be prosecuted on Japanese soil after the instauration of the 'Blackmail Tag' clause of 1987, also known as the Nabiki Tendo Act.
I will be a really good lawyer. Or Haruno will. One of us needs to find a way to legalize the current mess.
Shizu, presumably answering my masterfully posited question that could never be ['Objection!']-ed to, rather than showing her unwavering support for my plan to overthrow societal notions of what a wedding may actually entail, nods.
Which is a good thing, because, now that I think of it, becoming a lawyer and actually practicing sounds suspiciously not only like working, but working[ a lot]. It must be true that sex impairs cognitive function, because I almost fell for it.
"So, why are we bothering keeping up the pretense if there aren't any witnesses?" I ask after (delightfully) watching her fidget a bit more.
And she drags her hand down her face and grumbles while her wild bangs hide her beautiful face from me.
"Senpai, must you really bully her so?" Iroha asks.
"Don't get jealous; I'll get to you soon."
"You better."
For some reason, Shizu's grumbling intensifies.
It's a mystery. A mystery, I tell you.
"I had a day and night full of Haruno, you brats; my mental energies are as low as they can be with me still technically conscious. Could you spare me the headache? Just for today?" the groaning woman finally says as the hand shielding her face limply falls to her lap.
Iroha and I look at each other.
"Nope," I tell her with my suave, cool and hip attitude.
"Are you… have you [met] him?" Iroha twists the knife.
And Shizu groans.
Heh.
['One of these days, you're gonna get stabbed, and, while you lie bleeding on the pavement, you'll idiotically blink up at a livid woman and ask her why.']
Look, if you didn't constantly drive your boyfriend to suicide—
['Self-Preservation-kun is not my boyfriend!']
All right. My brain's a tsundere. Who could've guessed.
"So…" I start, not desperate at all to derail my current train of thought into a horrific, bloody incident. "I take it things with Haruno went well?"
Shizu stares at me.
And keeps staring.
"Iroha, she's gonna explode; take cover. And start recording."
"On it!" she says, already flipping her phone out.
"You two are insufferable. Also, wasn't it you who told me we needed to break Hachi and Haruno's alliance?"
"Well, duh. It was getting in the way of my own alliance with him."
"I feel like maybe I should have some kind of veto power on which alliances I'm included in," I try to interject.
And two women look at me in undisguised pity.
Ah, how refreshing. The morning isn't complete without this.
"Right, I don't even know what I was thinking," I dismissively gloss over the stupidest thing I've said in the past ten minutes. "Anyway: you, Haruno. Details."
"Do I really have to—"
"Or I can call her right now."
"We fucked! We fucked, and it was glorious, except it was sappy, and emotion-riddled, and with far too much trauma and regret!"
Iroha, maybe you shouldn't look so gleeful at our girlfriend's outburst. Mostly because I doubt your ability to keep her in focus if you start laughing.
"You haven't said anything we didn't know would happen as soon as we left your apartment," I helpfully point out.
"… She put me in a joint lock," Shizu comments, as if reaching for the one detail she thinks wasn't obvious.
"So, about that bet…" I say as I turn to Iroha.
"I didn't take it. Because, romantic choices aside, I'm not an idiot," my personal kunoichi cuts me off as she eyes something with too many numbers overlayed on the recording app on her screen.
What the Hell's an ISO level? And does it raise with XP or with uses?
"You two are horrible…" Shizu restates the obvious.
"Yeah, and that's why you love us," I say, doing pretty much the same thing.
"I wouldn't say that's—"
And I kiss her.
While making sure I give Iroha a good angle.
I'm grabbing her black tie, pulling her halfway over the crystal table between us like I should've done that first time, keeping her in place as my lips and tongue explore hers, as I physically show her how much I want her, how much I crave for her touch at every moment of every day. How much I love her.
And only when I feel my cheeks and lungs burn in equal measure do I allow her to part from me, even as I keep her close enough that her silver eyes are still my whole world.
"There, now I've also kissed you. No need to scold me for being unfair," I tell her with what would be a flippant, caustic tone if I couldn't feel my mouth melting into a sappy, ridiculous, giddy smile that is mirrored in front of me.
"I love you," she says, seemingly surprising herself.
And I can't stop myself from leaning forward and resuming our kiss while I try to ignore the creaking leather behind me that tells me Iroha's looking for a better angle.
***
It takes a while for both the kiss to stop and for Iroha to lend her makeup compact to Shizu so she can check herself and make sure no undue clues are given to any potential walk-ins.
Seeing as Shizu doesn't wear makeup other than her age-inappropriate cherry lipgloss, I'm not really sure what she's checking, but, well, I guess even she must've some of those 'mysteries of the female condition' to which men can't be privy to under pain of having to consume Marmalade Boy without bathroom breaks.
And so, it is at some arbitrary point that the compact is shut with a resounding click that would be perfect for marking a scene transition, and so I must never mention it to Zaimokuza.
Look, he already has an aheagaoed, dedicated editor; he doesn't need to mind break anybody else. Fat Bastards are at their best when they devote all their energies to a lone victim.
"So… I guess you've decided to go public?" Shizu says. More to get the ball rolling than because she needs further confirmation after Iroha and I got dragged here to get scolded for our very enthusiastic, very public, display of affection.
"Yeah… about that…" I begin with a tone that makes my Christmas Cake glare at me like she expects me to say something entirely in character.
"His parents found out he has at least one girlfriend, and I was the safest choice," Iroha replies in my stead, rolling her eyes.
Shizu blinks at her. And pales.
"Oh… Oh gods, I hadn't… [Your parents]. I—I should—wait, what about [my] parents?! Mom's never gonna let me live this down! And Dad—huh, wait, Dad's probably okay with… too many things! Aaaaahhhh! Why?! I don't want to think about Dad, Mike, and [Mom] in a Hiratsuka sandwich!"
And now it's Iroha's and I's turn to blink.
"What," I say, speaking for both me and my official girlfriend.
Who's still recording.
"… You didn't hear that from me," Shizu says as her eyes refocus, managing to flee from the dark place she'd been dragged to.
I cock my head to the side, and she follows it to Iroha's phone.
And blanches.
"Can I convince you to keep this—" our teacher, guidance counselor, and paternal figure starts to say, not at all pleading with desperate eyes.
"You wait two years to introduce us. Explain about Haruno first, and that will soften the blow when it's time for me and Hachi to appear," Iroha says, still looking at the screen.
"I… I don't think I can lie to my family for two years," Shizu says.
And Iroha hands me her still recording phone.
… Are we married now? Is that what this means?
['… Do you] really[ not remember the hotel?']
That was… roleplaying. I think.
'[You use me to think. I don't need to tell you how much of a lie that line just was.']
… Look, I'm willing to accept 'engaged without a date set,' but that's as far as I'm willing to go.
['Good. Now tell her just that.']
No fucking way. I wouldn't want to interrupt her dramatic lecture.
['Yeah. Sure. That's] why[.']
"You have two parents who experimented enough that you're reasonably sure they'd understand you being involved in… [this]," Iroha says, vaguely gesturing and heroically saving me from Brain-chan's evil, completely unwarranted torture. "Two parents you trust enough not to be sure you can lie to for two years? Then [don't]. It's that easy… Shizu. Just… You love them, so you trust them. Isn't that how this works?" she says, her tone wavering at the last line.
And Shizu bites her lip and looks at us. At the two lovers who're very much perfectly okay with lying to their parents for as long as it takes.
And she gets up, walks around the glass table separating us, and hugs us from behind, dragging our heads to lie on her ample chest.
It would be even better if her stupid vest didn't act as a barrier.
"I love you two, you know?" she says, half-repeating herself.
I turn around, both trying to keep the three of us in frame and to return the hug Iroha is now also giving us.
"We do," I answer. For both of us. "And I wish this wasn't such a messy issue, that I could [brag] about you. And I promise someday I will."
Iroha kisses my cheek, and then Shizu's lips.
"Don't worry. I'll make sure he doesn't drag us down with his social suicides," she says with a bright, fond smile that almost masks how big of a lie she just told her.
I mean, Iroha may be the greatest kunoichi to ever come out of her secret kitsune village, but nobody's [that] good.
==================
This work is a repost of my second oldest fic on QQ (https://forum.questionablequesting.com/threads/all-right-fine-ill-take-you-oregairu.15676/), where it can be found up to date except for the latest two chapters that are currently only available on on Patreon (https://www.patreon.com/Agrippa?fan_landing=true)—as an added perk, both those sites have italicized and bolded text. I'll be posting the chapters here twice weekly, on Wednesday and Friday, until we're caught up. Unless something drastic happens, it will be updated at a daily rate until it catches up to the currently written 84 chapters (or my brain is consumed by the overwhelming amounts of snark, whichever happens first).
Speaking of Italics, this story's original format relied on conveying Brain-chan's intrusions into Hachiman's inner monologue through the use of italics. I'm using square brackets ([]) to portray that same effect, but the work is more than 300k words at the moment, so I have to resort to the use of macros to make that light edit and the process may not be perfect. My apologies in advance
Also, I'd like to thank my credited supporters on Patreon: aj0413, Niklarus, Tinkerware, Varosch, and Xalgeon. If you feel like maybe giving me a hand and help me keep writing snarky, maladjusted teenagers and their cake buffets, consider joining them or buying one of my books on https://www.amazon.com/stores/Terry-Lavere/author/B0BL7LSX2S. Thank you for reading!
The Student Council is an ever-present enemy in nearly any high school manga—except the ones where they are the protagonists rather than the antagonist.
This shows us two things: the first one is that every young Japanese man understands, at an instinctual level, that authority, no matter how petty, is their born enemy and that any bureaucracy has been built around the ideal of crushing any aspirations to freedom and independence non-collectivist societies may or not be founded upon.
The second is that, as soon as one reaches said petty power, perspectives shift, and the oppressed masses become the new enemies to crush beneath a short-skirted, dictatorial, shapely heel.
Because that's what the conflict with the Student Council symbolizes: the struggle between youth and repression, rebellion and order, freedom and law.
It's not about authority being evil, but about how one can fight for one side of the conflict or the other, how allegiance is not built on morality, but on ethos. Indeed, a young delinquent can heroically fight back against a strict student council president, and nobody will know who to cheer for until enough screentime has let us know who the protagonist is supposed to be.
"Senpai, I'd rather you stopped running away into your inner monologue and focused on the task at hand," the short-skirted, dictatorial, shapely student council president tells the struggling young delinquent.
"I think not focusing on the task at hand is quite traditional when one wants not to finish too early," he defiantly tells the oppressive figure of authority holding his future in the palm of her hands.
"Please, tell me you're not thinking about baseball," she says, knowing full well the power she holds over the sports clubs budgets.
"I'm [trying] not to think about a bat, balls, and what you can do with them when properly motivated," he says. Because desperation is about as good a tool as any a delinquent can use when trying to get a last-minute powerup.
And she rolls her eyes, dismissively as all authority figures do, and just mutters a quiet, "Make sure to keep me in frame."
Then Iroha leans down and licks up from my balls to the very tip of my penis, her eyes lidded in arousal and focusing on my own over her borrowed phone.
The phone I'm holding.
While I film her.
Giving me a blowjob in the school's toilets [during recess].
See?! That's a blatant abuse of authority! My delinquent heart roars at it, at the unfair use of her personal power to flaunt the rules she's meant to uphold! It roars at injustice made manifest! At the corruption of the system! At Iroha swallowing my tip, and oh gods, I can't even—
"You should see his face right now," she tells the camera with a giddy smile, her breath washing over my wet tip in a burst of cool breeze that makes me curl my toes. "He doesn't know what to do with himself, because he's always so [eager] to please, to turn me into a drooling, blissed-out [mess] that he can't even process this being only about him," she finishes, her smile still warm, even if it has an edge to it as she goes from looking at the phone's camera to my eyes yet again, and her cheeks redden even as she lowers her head to tenderly kiss my frenulum, catching it between her lips and pulling back until it snaps out of her grasp.
"I… I [could] do something," I tell her, not at all sounding lost. Really. "I could take off my shoes and socks and play with your—"
"You could. You already [did], and you don't know how utterly confused I was at cumming from [that—"]
"You did?!"
She blinks in surprise at my outburst, then blushes deeper and actually looks away from the camera in what I thought up till now would be, coming from her, an impossible display of shame.
"Just… a little. It was my first time doing that! And Shizu was right beside me, and your cock was wrapped in her stupidly tasty tits, and… And we probably should speak far more quietly while we are in here."
Keeping up the current theme, I blink down at her as I feel my own cheeks burn. Not quite because of shame, but because of the idea of me making Iroha cum [with my toe] while she gave me her first blowjob.
['Oh gods, your ego's gonna swell.']
Yeah. Not the only thing swelling.
['That… doesn't look healthy.']
I've never seen it this purple before, no.
['… This seems like the perfect time to ask] someone[ to suck the venom out.']
You know, Brain-chan, it's times like these that I realize just how much you actually care.
['If you expect me to do the tsundere routine, I may, but only because it will further distract you from Iroha looking increasingly annoyed.']
Wait, wha—
"You're proud of that, aren't you?" she says, her eyes narrowed and the grip of her left hand tight enough that I feel her fingers shift with every heartbeat.
…
"Wait, you expect me [not to be proud] of making you cum [with my toe?"]
Oh, she's looking scarlet now.
"I expect you not to keep drawing attention to it! How would you feel if I bragged about all those times I made you cum on command with a little speech?!"
"You do that all the time! And you keep making them even more outrageous, just because you want me to snap and actually get you pregnant before college!"
"Is that so much to ask?!"
"Yes! I won't have a son with you until I can take care of you two!"
Ah.
I said it.
And now she's not only looking smug, but sappy.
… My heart can't take this.
['Neither can… other parts.']
"And this, Haruno, is what you can expect from your first time with him," she resumes her lecture series that has very little to do with manga and anime. "He'll care for you in ways you didn't expect, then he'll do something that will frustrate you, only to turn it into something that makes your heart melt. He'll confuse you, and make you happy, and make you wish so much that you could just stay in the moment, his body filling yours until you can no longer feel any separation…"
Her eyes keep drifting to mine, luminous honey keeping me silent as she pours her heart out to both me and the girl she decided to make an instructional video for.
No, I don't know why. At this point, I don't even think about asking why Iroha thinks things make sense. I just accept that some eroge is missing their kunoichi kitsune and roll with it.
I just hope it wasn't from a Rance game. The final boss would be brutal enough without the objectively best party member.
"I don't… I don't think I am all that you say I am…" I tell her, caressing her hair, tucking it back behind her right ear as I try to keep the phone steady. Because she asked me to, and I apparently can't tell her no unless it's for something pregnancy related.
"No. You're more," she says, rising up from her knees, depriving the white-tiled floor of the heat of her bare, reddened knees as she puts her hands under her skirt for a moment before a pair of wet, blue panties drift down those same knees and past the white socks she's wearing.
"Iroha… I thought you just wanted to show Haruno how to give a blowjob."
"Yes. And now I'm showing her what happens when I try to plan something regarding you," she says, gently pulling the hand I'm holding the phone with up to my eye level before looking at both me and Haruno when she watches this.
"That… That you get too horny to follow through?" I tell her, trying to joke even as I feel my throat close as she sits on top of my bare thighs.
"That too. But… It's more that I fall even deeper in love with you, and plans become meaningless."
My mouth falls open.
She smiles.
And I drop her phone, grab her hips, and pull her down on my dick.
"Ah! Slowly, you beast!" she says, not even trying to hide her grin as she playfully slaps at my still-clothed chest.
"You can't—[seriously?!] After [that?"]
She winks at me cheekily, and then her arms wrap around my neck before she leans forward to kiss me with as much hunger as I feel for her.
Her tongue tangles with mine as I pull her farther down my cock, her warmth making me hiss into her mouth as her thighs clench around me, her muscles tightening to pull herself up until I'm almost entirely out of her, just the tip remaining past the ring of tight muscle at her entrance.
"You would never hurt me, would you, Hachi?" she says, her eyes right in front of me.
"Wha—of course I—"
"Then catch me," she says.
And her legs go limp as she starts falling for just a moment right before my reflexes kick in, and my hands on her hips hold her still, just half my cock inside her, both of us groaning at the sudden intrusion.
"See? I knew you could… do it…" she says, eyes lidded and a dreamy smile making me even more disoriented.
So disoriented, in fact, that I don't quite realize when I stand up, one of Iroha's feet on the floor and the other on top of the toilet's rim as my fingers dig in her always firm ass, and I drive my hips forward, her head thrashing from side to side over the grey, wooden partition.
"So… You're always so deep… So close to…"
"To what?" I manage to ask after she drifts off, her eyes tightly closed as she focuses on the feeling of me, on her hands roaming my hair and pulling me to her neck.
"To me. So close to me," she whispers.
And I kiss her neck.
Because yes, the sex feels good. Incredibly so. I can't ever get enough of feeling her body coiling around mine, of the warmth we share in these moments.
But… Being near her. Being close to her. That's what always matters to me most.
And hearing her say it? Knowing she feels the same way I do, that she wants from me what I want from her?
It's… It's hard to believe. Because being this happy shouldn't be a thing. It should be something that characters earn at the end of their journey, after defeating the final villain. It should not be something that just falls on the lap of a socially maladjusted teenage boy.
It should not be me, feeling like this, having their heart about to burst.
But it should be her. Because she's Iroha. Because she deserves to be given all the warmth and tenderness she was ever denied. Because she deserves to be as happy as anybody has ever been.
And I'm selfish. A hypocrite. Petty.
And so, if Iroha's to be happy, if she's to find love and companionship with someone… I'd rather it be me.
Her leg lifts off the toilet to wrap around my own, pushing me farther inside her, deep enough I can feel the hard bone over her sex digging against me as her wetness covers me, and her hands clench on my hair, making me kiss her neck harder before one of them quickly goes to her mouth, and I catch her biting her wrist with her eyes closed as a full-body shiver ripples across her and over me.
Then I go harder. Not because I feel a desperate need, a craving to fill her up, to explode inside her until the world fades away.
No. I do it because I just heard a cute, muffled moan escape from her lips, and I can't bring myself not to push her for more, not to give her more of that pleasure she's asking from me.
So I fuck Iroha, [my] Iroha, against a flimsy bathroom divider, my hands on her body pulling her against me so we don't crash through it or something equally ludicrous.
And, also, because I want to feel her close to me.
Then she shudders yet again, and keeps doing it until she goes still, and I force myself to slow down, to accompany her through her orgasm rather than rush to join her. I stumble back to sit on the toilet, my hands on her hips guiding her to me without ever going out of her until she slumps forward, against my chest, and I can just caress her back as Iroha sighs and drapes over me.
"You're still hard," she whispers right in my ear after what seems like an eternity of painfully hard erections wrapped in tight, coiled, wet flesh.
"I am inside you," I answer, almost growling.
She giggles.
And, carefully, on unsteady legs, she pulls herself off my cock and almost falls down on her knees, in front of me, slumped forward with her nose smudged with her love juices on my cock.
"I love you," she says.
"I really hope you told that to me and not my—"
"I love him too. He makes me very happy," she says, an utterly Iroha smile on her dreamy face.
… I wonder if it's healthy to feel jealous of my own dick.
['At this moment? I think it's unreasonable not to.']
"But… I'll always love you more," Iroha says as her left hand comes up with her phone.
Then she leans forward and swallows me.
She's rough from the start, and I can only clench my fists as I try not to hump up, not to fuck her face as Iroha speeds up, the tip of my cock sometimes brushing the entrance to her throat as she quickly jerks off what remains outside her tight lips.
Then she flicks her tongue on my frenulum, and I see white as she stops and just sucks on me, her cheeks drawing inward as she keeps swallowing jet after jet of my cum as her eyelids flutter.
I slump back down, not knowing when I rose up from my seat, and Iroha slowly and methodically licks me as she pulls back, exposing more and more of my skin to the air until I'm deflating in front of her proud eyes.
Then she looks to her left, to the phone that has presumably caught some of this, jerky as the movements may have been.
"See, Haruno? This is what happens when I decide to give him a quick, clandestine blowjob. You can use that big brain of yours to figure out what will happen when you do… whatever it is you plan to do."
And she turns back to smile up at me with eyes so full of naked affection that there's only one thing I can tell her.
"So, do you have a thing for feet or—"
Then she bites my thigh in apparently rabid anger, and all's right with the world.
… Fine, we also spend the rest of recess cuddling and kissing in wordless affection because we're sappy like that. But ending on the bite would've been funnier.
It would also have allowed me to gloss over awkwardly greeting Kawasomething when Iroha tries to discreetly exit the stall, and the ponytailed girl is just there, in front of us, wide-eyed and flushed scarlet.
At least it's a recycled character. If this had been Waitress-chan, I would've been worried about tripping some kind of flag.
==================
This work is a repost of my second oldest fic on QQ (https://forum.questionablequesting.com/threads/all-right-fine-ill-take-you-oregairu.15676/), where it can be found up to date except for the latest two chapters that are currently only available on on Patreon (https://www.patreon.com/Agrippa?fan_landing=true)—as an added perk, both those sites have italicized and bolded text. I'll be posting the chapters here twice weekly, on Wednesday and Friday, until we're caught up. Unless something drastic happens, it will be updated at a daily rate until it catches up to the currently written 84 chapters (or my brain is consumed by the overwhelming amounts of snark, whichever happens first).
Speaking of Italics, this story's original format relied on conveying Brain-chan's intrusions into Hachiman's inner monologue through the use of italics. I'm using square brackets ([]) to portray that same effect, but the work is more than 300k words at the moment, so I have to resort to the use of macros to make that light edit and the process may not be perfect. My apologies in advance
Also, I'd like to thank my credited supporters on Patreon: aj0413, Niklarus, Tinkerware, Varosch, and Xalgeon. If you feel like maybe giving me a hand and help me keep writing snarky, maladjusted teenagers and their cake buffets, consider joining them or buying one of my books on https://www.amazon.com/stores/Terry-Lavere/author/B0BL7LSX2S. Thank you for reading!
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