Capítulo 42: All Right! Fine! I Will Take You! – Chapter 40 – Rematch: Round 1
"I'm… I don't have [anything] here to prepare; this is just unfair!" Iroha complains as she paces barefooted inside my bathroom while I try to chase her, hairbrush in hand, wondering how she keeps dodging me in the enclosed space.
At least she's somewhat dressed in Hachi's undershirt and her panties; the last thing my already stretched thin sanity needs is to be watching her pert derriere bounce around while I hold a hairbrush. Really, I don't want to go from her teacher to her disciplinarian.
"Iroha… you could walk out of here dressed in a garbage bag, and he still would look at you like you're the most beautiful thing in the world," I try to calm her down.
Finally, Iroha stops. I still can't take advantage of it, seeing as she only does it to turn around and glare at me.
Her back looks really… [interesting] in the mirror behind her. Hachi's undershirt really works on her.
"Shizu… That's [precisely] why I need to upstage myself. Just relying on his feelings for me to do the heavy lifting is a recipe for said feelings to be strained," she admonishes me, waging finger and all.
…
I feel like I should be taking notes.
Why do I feel like I should be taking notes?
"That… may be somewhat true, but I'd also think you not being stressed out of your mind before going on a date would also be—"
There's a tongue in my mouth. A tongue in my mouth other than mine, I mean.
A very [active] tongue.
It almost makes me forget about the hands on my breast and ass.
"Oh? Are you offering yourself to be my stress relief? To finally show me what an experienced woman can teach me about the secrets of my body? To tease, and kiss, and lick until I beg you for release, all the while writhing with the cresting waves of an impending orgasm that will leave my heart open and at your mercy? I am sorry, Shizu, but I'm not ready yet. After all, I've got to go to school tomorrow, and it will take more than a single day to do everything I want you to do to me."
I, making use of all my worldly knowledge and experience, blink stupidly at her.
…
How does Hachiman stand this?[ How?!]
"Uh…" I finally gather enough of my wits to say.
Which is when she decides to squeeze my ass so I jump up and bump into her.
"You brats are going to be the end of me…" I mutter as she happily nuzzles between my breasts.
"And you'll love every second!" she proclaims as she raises her eyes, a broad, bright grin nestled right on top of my cleavage.
…
Damn it. She's right.
***
"Just remember: no romantic comedy hijinks. This thing's already crowded enough at the moment," Haruno scolds Hachiman in front of my door as she straightens the lapels of his blue coat with a gesture I can't decide whether it's motherly, sisterly, or just plain condescending—and that it's only made worse by her still maddeningly wearing her apron and emerald green underwear.
Hachiman arches an eyebrow at her, scowls despite his nascent blush, and grasps her nape to pull her down into a searing kiss that makes me kinda…
Needy.
"We need to find a way to break their incipient alliance…" Iroha mutters from my side, biting her lip in concentration.
I think having a harem would be less stressful if all of its members weren't some flavor of scheming, inscrutable, or traumatized.
…
Pat the Iroha. Just pat the Iroha and don't think about how utterly screwed you are, Shizuka. At least her soft hair is relaxing enough to almost make up for…
Huh. She's really got soft hair. Is this a conditioner thing? Maybe I should start worrying about things like that?
Also, just how long are you going to tongue-wrestle Haruno for, brat? You're about to take [another] girl on a date, you know?
Am I getting jealous on behalf of Iroha? No, it's not quite jealousy, it's… a slight annoyance? Like… like there's a time and a place, and this isn't it? But it also is? Fuck, this is all too confusing. I can't even manage [regular] relationships, why did I think I could manage… [this?]
I mean, other than Hachiman basically forcing me, Iroha being Iroha, and Haruno…
Slowly, languidly, they separate, their eyes opening in unison to gaze at one another in a relaxed way that still manages to convey longing, desire, and affection as their lips remain partway opened, glistening with each other's saliva.
I…
I could've been gazing into those eyes years ago.
Iroha clasps my hand, her lithe fingers sliding between mine before giving me a reassuring squeeze, and I turn to my right to see her warmly smiling. I don't know how much she knows, how much she understands, but… She's Iroha, so I guess most of it.
She's also been alone.
"Well, that's one goodbye kiss…" Hachiman mutters before turning his burning eyes on me and—
Oh.
His body is firm against mine, the burgeoning muscle obvious despite the thick clothes, and he's hugging me to him, bringing me down into a searing kiss that I know he learned from me, that I was weak enough to allow him that evening that seems so long ago.
The kiss I tortured myself about.
Because I didn't continue it.
Because I fled, afraid of… of harming him, of tainting what we had, of too many things. But I was also afraid of something I can only admit now:
I was afraid of losing myself to him.
Because I knew Hachiman. Perhaps better than anybody else aside from his sister, I knew the brooding young man, the compassionate heart behind the acerbic façade, the brilliant mind concealed by studied laziness that was anything but. I knew how much laid buried underneath that mask of his, how far he could reach if only somebody would help him dig through.
And I remembered another student of mine who… was pretty much the same. And how much I hurt her because I couldn't allow myself to—
His tongue pushes past my lips, and my thoughts stop.
Rough fingers thread through my hair, a strong hand pushes down on my lower back, and I can feel myself molding to his shape, ceding to his every advance.
I can feel rising heat in my chest, my breathing getting short.
I can feel Iroha's fingers squeezing mine.
And I let them take me and comfort me yet again.
He finally pulls away, his lips sticking to mine for a brief moment before he finally breaks contact, his eyes burning in that way of his that—
"[Hachi…"] I whisper, needily, like a woman in love who has spent too many years alone.
The burning in his eyes remains yet softens all the same. Warm embers, something to cuddle in front of, something to keep winter at bay.
"Later, Shizu," he answers.
And then Iroha drags me down into her own kiss. Because of course she does.
It's brief, not as intense as the one she gave me in my bathroom, and…
And Hachi hugs the two of us together before pulling the young[er] girl away.
"Come on, if it was up to you, we would never leave," he pretends to grumble as he drags her to my apartment's entrance, Iroha's socks sliding on the wooden floor as she pretends to resist him.
"As if you wouldn't enjoy every second of it…" she grumbles in answer, always eager to follow along with his games.
"I'll have you know I'm more than a libido with legs."
"Of course you are: you're also lazy."
"Precisely. And keeping up with you three sounds like too much work."
"Oh? Senpai, are you saying that you want to unleash all of your bestial lusts on me? That you won't let me rest at all, will keep thrusting in and out of my limp body as my eyes roll back and my mouth hangs open? That you'll fill me with your cum until you can't fit any more inside of me, and it spurts out with your every thrust? I'm sorry, Senpai, but that's impossible: I'm not so selfish as to keep you all to myself like that."
I rub the bridge of my nose, and Hachiman stops moving while Haruno shakes in silent laughter.
"You are the [most] selfish person I've ever met," he finally replies.
And Iroha beams.
"So, what you're saying is that it's not impossible, after all?" she replies with a grin so cheerful and innocent I have to force myself to remember what it is that has prompted it.
Hachiman blushes and mutters unintelligibly (something about Zaimokuza, patron saint of those who will die virgins? I need to have a talk with the brat about his friend and not fleeing from reality—the chuuni is getting regularly [drained)]. Then, after he's done spewing vitriol, he pulls Iroha into a tight embrace.
"I'm not going to kiss you," he says.
"Is that a challenge?" she replies.
And he… smirks.
I don't know whether to get the ibuprofen or a change of underwear, really.
"Now it is," he says, letting go of Iroha and putting on his shoes.
She just stands there before she grins, wider than I've seen in… the last half an hour, and she hurries to put on her own shoes.
"You are on," she whispers before licking her lips.
Hachiman turns back to smirk at her, waves goodbye to Haruno and I, and opens the door to let Iroha strut through it before she remembers to cutely wave two fingers at us as she shoots a confident grin over her shoulder.
Then Hachi closes the door behind him, and I breathe.
"So. Alone at last," I tell Haruno, my eyes still closed as I feel the whisper of her feet approaching me.
"Oh? You were that eager?"
"You made them go on a date just for this."
There's a brief silence, and I can feel the heat coming off in waves between our bodies, her breasts almost near enough to touch my back.
"Not [just] for this. I really think they need some more time alone. Together."
I lick my dry lips, take a deep breath, and lean back, feeling her soft body pressing against mine. Feeling the almost embrace I denied myself on that cold night when I needed it most.
Her arms come around my waist, her fingers lazily brushing over my long pajama shirt, almost tickling my belly in a way that causes me to tremble once before I get a grip on myself, and her chin comes to lean over my shoulder so I can listen to her breathing, to the rhythmic, soothing sound of Haruno being near me.
"I love you," she whispers.
"I love you," I answer.
She kisses my cheek, slowly and lingering, not quite parting from my skin when it's over.
And then she grabs my limp left hand, stretches my arm, steps around me, and pushes her palm on my stretched elbow as she forces me to spin around before she walks us to my living room.
"Ha—[Haruno?!"]
"Rematch," she answers, as if that made even the slightest amount of sense.
Which… [Haruno]. Really, that says everything.
So I take one step faster than she pushes me, the pressure on my joint lessening, and I drop into a forward roll that forces her to let me go as she's almost unbalanced. The bare wood isn't precisely easy on my back, but it's nothing I haven't practiced for and—
And I rise up, only to be tackled from behind hard enough we both fall on my abused sofa.
"The Hell?!" I protest after I spit the throw pillow I unwittingly bit into.
"You hurt me, you know?" she comments, almost idly, as her hands travel down my arms in a gesture so sensual it takes me a moment to remember not to let her grab me.
"I do! We had this whole thing yesterday! And you decided not to fuck me!"
"… Is that really the first thing that comes to mind?"
…. I'm not blushing.
"I… That fucking park's cursed, I swear," I grumble, still slapping away her hands while she sits on my back, leaning forward so her breasts barely brush over my shirt.
"Shizu… Are you really going to tell me you're feeling [pent up]? With… with those [two?"]
"It's not… They aren't [you]," I tell her, not making any sense.
But she stops moving, her hands no longer teasing and threatening at the same time. So maybe I just made a tiny bit of sense.
"They aren't you, either," she says.
And she shifts on top of me, letting me feel how much heat there's between her legs, on top of the spot where my spine sinks into my hips, pushing me down into my sofa, her thighs on either side of me.
I close my eyes, take a deep breath that smells soothingly of old tobacco barely disguised with detergent, and carefully choose my next words.
"Hachi… He's the first person to have sex with me I've loved in a long, [long] time. And that's always… different. Special. It's not just about him being a good lover, or about how handsome he is when he isn't scowling like a surly, contrarian, frustrating, full of himself—"
"I know," Haruno whispers, her forehead resting on the back of my head.
"You… do?" I ask, opening my eyes only to be met by grey fabric, my own hair, and a few strands of straighter, thinner hair that are Haruno's and I would recognize anywhere.
"I… I had sex. Just to try it, to know what it felt like. And it was fun. It felt good. But… But it wasn't that different from masturbating—worse, in some ways. So I did not think about it, didn't bother, until… until I kissed you. until I kissed you, and learned how… learned the difference that actual feelings made."
She doesn't stop so much as she trails off, the message of her words continued by her weak arms wrapping around me, tightening beneath my breasts as she curls over me, as she rests her full weight on my body.
"I… My first love was my best friend," I blurt out.
She doesn't interrupt, just listens.
"I had had crushes before, all of them guys, but Miki… Miki had always been there, and had always been special, and then, one day, I noticed, and… And I was afraid. So afraid of losing her, of messing it up, but I [knew] she felt the same, so I decided to go ahead, to push it, to try and see what we could have together."
"It went wrong," she doesn't ask.
And I laugh in a way that manages not to be a sob.
"She showed up with a guy, and she made me date him."
The arms tighten, and I don't know if she's reassuring me or swearing eternal vengeance. It's Haruno, so the distinction may be academic.
"I went to her wedding," I continue.
And I can hear her teeth grinding.
"And… she's pregnant. Happy. And I am happy for her. After all this time, I can be happy for her. And I called her, talked about nothing and everything, told her about the mess I'm in, how my love life is [geometrically] complicated. And she laughed. Like she used to laugh. Bright, cheerful, almost obnoxious."
Haruno hesitates. I can feel it in the way her arms slack, her breathing hitches.
"And… And I told her, Haruno. I told her about you."
We remain in silence for a moment that feels slightly too long, my chin digging into the sofa beneath me as Haruno's weight keeps me there.
"What… What did she tell you?" she finally asks.
And I smile. Because I've got her.
"She scolded me. Really, all those years wasted, all those times we could have… No. No, she knew what we two could've had. And she's happy with her life, with her husband, doesn't regret how things turned out, but… But to know I did to you… She was livid, Haruno. On behalf of you, and because of me."
"I—"
I drop my left leg to the floor, and, as soon as my feet touches it, I push, straightening it, turning over and between Haruno's loose grasp. She takes a moment to react, and when she does, I'm still beneath her, but it's my arms that are around her, and my grasp is strong as I pull her tightly to me.
"And I agreed with her, Haruno. I told Miki that she was right, that there was no reason to repeat past mistakes. That I should take the girl I love and never let her go."
She stares at me, eyes wide, afraid.
So I lean up and kiss her.
It's just our lips meeting, just tenderness briefly joining, but…
It's enough.
It's enough for her to relax above me, to allow herself to fall down into my embrace, to turn her head to deepen our contact as her hands slip out from beneath my back and travel up my sides until she's holding my cheeks.
And when she finally leans back, her lavender eyes lidded above me…
"I win," I tell her, grinning almost as cheekily as an Iroha.
She blinks.
"You haven't," she protests.
"It's a rematch. You won the first one; should've kept the title," I tease her.
"I haven't even [started]," she glares.
"Is that a challenge?" I tell her, repeating Iroha's earlier words.
She pauses before a slow grin spreads on her lips.
"Now it is," she says, repeating Hachiman's.
So I lean up, chasing her lips before she thinks to retreat, and this time I trace the line between them with my tongue, and she accepts me far too readily only to push her own inside my mouth, both of us struggling to set the pace as I caress her almost naked back, feeling the taut muscle beneath soft skin, feeling her shift on top of me, her breasts against mine through our bras, my shirt, and her apron.
Then she retreats, her cheeks flushed, her eyes on mine.
"You're on," I whisper.
And she chuckles.
She goes back to me, to our kiss, to a meeting of tongues that was far from enough this morning, when Iroha and Hachiman gave us their impromptu show, and Haruno just couldn't restrain herself (and I'm so thankful she didn't, because that means I wasn't the one jumping on her after my two [current] students once again broke any kind of self-control I still have). She goes back to me, and I…
I never want her to pull away.
Because she did. After I… After I hurt her, and her smile became that tiny bit faker, and she stopped answering my messages so readily, not always finding the time to go out with me. And I thought it was fine, that it was all right. Proper. That she would soon find someone else to fill that hole I just gouged out of her.
But she didn't. Haruno just… Just perfected her mask, added that bit more cruelty to her sardonic quips, got more frustrated at her sister, and I kept thinking I was doing the right thing, kept thinking I shouldn't take advantage of my former student, my friend, someone I had helped become the gorgeous woman she is.
It wasn't.
Carefully, as if asking for permission, I fiddle with Haruno's bra as she keeps sucking on my tongue, ignoring me until I finally unlatch it, the stretched band snapping open to allow me to rub her back without any interruption in my exploration of the creamy flesh.
She shifts on top of me, briefly lifting herself without stopping our kiss as she shrugs the bra off and then pulls it away, her breasts that much softer when it's only her apron covering them as she comes back down to me and they shift on top of mine, spilling out from the sides of the frilly little thing that she wore just to tease Hachiman, but she brought here because she planned to cook for us, to offer us something in return for yesterday.
Because she still thinks she needs to.
And I don't want her to.
I don't want her to feel she needs to justify her place here, beside me. I don't want her to pull away anymore. I don't want her to go back to that mask of hers.
I want her to laugh freely, to share that wonderful wit of hers with a world that will never be ready for it. I want her to love and be loved.
Because she deserves it.
Because she's wonderful.
Because she's… Haruno.
My Haruno.
My hands slide to the side of her hips, her panties interrupting the feeling of her skin on mine, and I shift her to the side so her back presses against the sofa behind her, and then… I step back.
Away from arms reaching toward me, dragging the fabric of my shirt as I pull away.
So I look down at her and smile. Make sure to get the message across as I make it first loving and dopey, and then impish, almost Iroha-like as I stand up and face her, and… And grasp the hem of my pale violet shirt and lift it up just a couple of fingers as I sway my hips from side to side, slowly enough that I don't flare the cotton out as I shift my weight from one foot to another, the grain of wood on my bare feet almost a rough caress as I expose myself to her.
She stares, not into my eyes, but at the top of my thighs as I keep pulling up, as I keep revealing more and more as I almost but not quite dance in front of her, and then I pull a bit farther, and she catches sight of the wet front of my violet panties, the satin glistening.
Because Iroha in the bathroom was more than enough to get me started, Hachiman's burning eyes always turn me into a needy mess, but…
[Haruno].
So I slowly turn around, shooting her a grin over my shoulder before I face away and I nervously pretend this doesn't matter, that I am stripping for just another lover, just teasing them to get them in the mood. That this isn't anything special.
That I'm not baring myself to the second girl I fell in love with.
That I'm not showing my body to her, half hoping it will be everything she believes she wants, and half fearing that she will realize what a terrible mistake she's making.
The shirt slides up, almost caressing my back with fluttering folds as I lift my arms over my head while I keep swaying my hips, teasing her with an ass that's barely covered by the thin satin that becomes see-through lace at the edges, and then my eyes are covered as I almost finish, almost take the entire thing off.
And thin, strong, dexterous hands grasp my hips and pull me back against her.
I can feel her on my back, naked. For the first time.
And she throws my shirt away and kisses the side of my neck hungrily, her hands sliding up from my hips, to my belly, to beneath the lacy cups of my bra, Haruno finally touching me there, finally finding my nipples with those long fingers I always felt guilty about admiring.
"You… aren't disappointed?" I can't help but ask in yet another moment of weakness I'll always hate myself for.
She pauses, her grasp on me tightening until I let out a shameful whimper as she bites down on my neck.
"Never. I'll never be disappointed with you. You… you made my life… Not dull."
And… And that's a word I think means something special to her. Her own version of my obsession with 'genuine' things.
But she's Haruno, and so her obsession it's not something she wants to find, but something she wants to flee from.
Of course it is.
So I let her play with me, my thighs rubbing together as the wetness inside me helplessly pours out, as her breasts flatten against my back, the two hard nipples making me feel as if they're branding irons as her own leg rises to curl around me, to pull me back to her as I feel the scorching heat of her sex on my backside, as I…
I squirm, moan, [whimper].
Her fingers pinch and pull at my nipples, her mouth plays between my neck and my ear, and her hips rub up and down on me.
"I want you. I want you so much," I finally tell her as I rest my hands on top of her wrists, pushing them up and against me, enjoying the way I make her cup my breasts as I bite my lip and close my eyes tightly.
"Shizu…" she whispers, a note of hesitation on that purring voice of hers, as if unsure of what to make of me so obviously, so [eagerly] desiring her.
So I turn around. To face her.
As I should have more than a year ago.
She blinks at me, her hands between us, her thigh still on top of my own.
And I just look at her, not knowing what can I say that will be more than the way I look at her, the way I hold her in my eyes as if afraid of breaking something beautiful just by staring too hard at those tremulous eyes of hers.
"I love you," I finally tell her. Because I can't not tell her. Not anymore.
And she smirks. She smirks that utterly Haruno thing that frustrates me and makes my heart melt at the same time.
"And what does that mean?" she answers, the smirk briefly flickering.
The question she posed Hachiman.
So I smile, lean forward, and kiss the tip of her nose.
"It means that I always saw the wonderful woman you pretend not to be. It means I know how much you hide, even from yourself—especially from yourself. It means I know how much you'll bring into an unprepared world—not because you're brilliant, not because you're a prodigy, but because you're [you]. Because you can't help but be extraordinary in every single way that matters. Because that means your heart is also extraordinary, and you care. You care far more than you allow yourself to admit. You love so intensely it hurts you. And I always wanted to soothe that hurt. To be with you. To be enough for you to finally heal. To be enough for you not to fear loving—"
She kisses me, her lips quivering, just for a moment. Just to stop me from talking.
"You hurt me," she whispers in a broken voice, eyes clouded with something that's not lust, but yearning.
"I know," I whisper back.
And my hands come up, trailing along that smooth, elegant back of hers until my fingers reach soft, thin, silky hair, and I pull her down so I can bury my face on her tresses, smelling a lavender perfume she's never worn before.
"I know," I repeat. "And… And I'll spend as long as you let me making up for it."
Her arms tighten around me, her fingers digging into my flesh almost painfully and entirely possessively.
"No," she says, her voice heated even if she refuses to meet my eyes. "That's not… That's not how things work—that [can't] be how things work. You will… You will stay with me, by my side, and you won't hurt me ever again. Not because you feel you have to, not because of your duty, but because…"
She trails off, her voice breaking at the end before she raises her head and looks up into my eyes, unshed tears at the corners of hers.
"Because you love me…" she whispers, almost in a question.
I close my eyes, not fleeing hers, but… but taking a second, gathering all the resolve I need for this. Because I couldn't ever forgive myself if I didn't do this right.
So I open my eyes to meet hers once again, just in time to see the beginnings of her mask creep back in.
"I do. I love you. I'll always love you. And maybe I'll hurt you, because I'm an imperfect wreck of a human being who's never managed to get things right. And if I do… If I do, I'll keep trying to make up for it. Not because it's right, and not because it's my duty. But because you… are you. And I want you to be as happy as you always deserved to be."
She tucks her head against me, fleeing my eyes, hiding from my warm, unconditional acceptance that she still can't bring herself to believe in.
And I cradle her against my chest, kissing the top of her head as her naked flesh rubs against mine, as a beautiful girl lies between my arms, as my former student tries not to break down and cry.
She fails at that.
So, as warm tears pour on my breasts and Haruno shivers against me, I soothingly caress her hair and lean down to whisper something she desperately needs to hear.
"I win," I tell her, my breath hot on my lips and hopefully on her ear.
She freezes up for half a second, and then she laughs.
Freely, unreservedly, Haruno.
She shakes between my arms as she lifts her wet, messy, merry eyes, a wide grin on her face.
"You sure do," she says.
And I smile.
Because… Because I know this can be frustrating, and painful, and messy, and even dangerous for the both of us.
But the one thing it won't ever be?
It is not dull.
==================
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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