Chapter 2: The Importance of Communication
A few days after the chaotic shoot with Yuzha-san and Alice-san, I dragged myself to school, stifling a yawn. No sooner had I stepped into the classroom than Shin, his eyes bloodshot with an intensity I’d never seen, pounced on me.
“Takumi!” he bellowed. “Why the hell didn’t you get to school earlier!?”
“…You’re extra loud this morning, Shin,” I said, unfazed.
I’d arrived at my usual time, yet here was Shin, snorting like a bull. The reason was almost certainly the photo I’d posted on SNS last night.
“Something good happen?” I teased. “Don’t tell me you got a girlfriend.”
“Don’t play dumb!” he snapped. “If I had a girlfriend, I’d be bragging about it already! This is why I’m freaking out!”
With a loud thud, he slammed his phone onto my desk. Careful, you’ll break it, I thought, glancing at the screen.
There it was: a photo from last weekend’s shoot, Yuzha-san lounging on a bed in her loungewear, captioned simply, “Next to Yuzha.” It had blown up beyond my expectations, flooded with comments like “I want a girlfriend like this,” “The sexiness is unreal,” and “This is warping my kinks.” By morning, it had become my most viral post ever.
“…Since when, Takumi?” Shin asked, his voice low, like the calm before a storm.
“Huh? Since when what?” I said, genuinely confused.
“Don’t act clueless,” he growled. “What’s with this photo? I’ve seen tons of Yuzha’s pics, but this… this private, intimate vibe is a first!”
He grabbed my shoulders, looking like he was about to cry blood. I was baffled, but his words also sparked a flicker of satisfaction. Even her fans saw this as Yuzha-san’s private side—mission accomplished.
“Was it a hotel?” he pressed. “Or—don’t tell me—her actual house? Answer me, Takumi. Depending on your answer, our friendship might end right here.”
“What’d you think of Yuzha-san’s loungewear look?” I asked, dodging.
“There’s no word but perfect!” he shouted. “What’s with that insanely sexy outfit? And that seductive expression and pose…! It’s unfair!”
With another thud, he slammed his fist onto my desk, unloading a night’s worth of pent-up emotions. I got where he was coming from, but taking it out on objects wasn’t cool. At least hit your own desk, man.
“Where was it, Takumi?” he demanded. “Where’d you take this photo? A hotel? Or—God forbid—Yuzha’s place!?”
“Calm down, Shin,” I said. “You’re acting like a complete idiot right now.”
“Shut up!” he roared. “How am I supposed to stay calm with a photo like that out there!? Just come clean, Takumi. Unless… you didn’t do anything more than shoot with Yuzha, right?”
“…Shin, you’re crossing a line,” I said, my voice hardening. “There’s a difference between what you can say and what you shouldn’t.”
Even I had my limits. The idea of me making a move on Yuzha-san? Not even if the world turned upside down. Like a monkey chasing the moon’s reflection in water—no matter how much I reached, I’d never grasp her radiance, her pure, untouchable brilliance. I was just her exclusive photographer, nothing more.
“H-Haha!” Shin stammered, backpedaling. “I was kidding, man! My bad! I know you’re not that kind of guy! It’s a home-themed studio, right?”
“If you know that, why bother asking?” I said, exasperated.
“Just making sure!” he said. “The comments were all, ‘I’m jealous of the photographer,’ and ‘Yuzha doesn’t do private shoots, so is this guy…!?’ So I had to check…”
I sighed. “I’m disappointed, Shin. I thought you of all people wouldn’t see me like that.”
“I said I’m sorry!” he whined. “Don’t be mad, Takumi!”
His groveling wouldn’t cut it. I was about to tell him to buy me lunch to mend our friendship when my phone buzzed in my chest pocket. Checking it, I saw a message from the princess in the seat next to mine.
“…What’s she thinking?” I muttered, glancing at the center of the classroom.
There was Shinomiya-san, chatting cheerfully with classmates, her usual serene smile in place. Yet something about her gave me an uneasy feeling, like a storm brewing beneath her calm.
“What’s up, Takumi?” Shin asked, noticing my stare. “Gazing at Shinomiya-san like that… Don’t tell me your real crush is her, not Yuzha?”
Shin, a proud member of the dubious “Shinomiya Rinoa Fan Club,” smirked. His quick recovery was almost impressive.
“It’s not like that,” I said, shrugging. “She just feels… off today. And don’t talk to me about crushes.”
“Really?” he said. “She looks as graceful, cute, and gorgeous as ever to me.”
“Lucky you, sitting next to her,” he added, grumbling.
He had no idea how taxing it was to endure the class’s jealous glares every day. Still, saying I wanted to switch seats would probably earn me a “stop whining” from Shin. As I mulled this over, my phone buzzed again—same sender. Why text when we’re in the same room? I thought, glancing at Shinomiya-san.
“—Fufu,” she giggled.
Her phone covered her mouth, but it couldn’t hide the mischievous, seductive smile. A chill ran through me. Ignoring Shin’s puzzled look, I checked the messages.
Three notifications. The latest: “Why are you ignoring me?” The others: “What do you think?” with a single image. My jaw dropped, a silent scream escaping.
“!?!?!?”
Shin frowned as I stared at my phone, blinking rapidly. Calm down, don’t panic, I told myself, taking a deep breath. Then, more messages flooded in.
“Ignoring my messages is cruel, Anno-kun.”
“Did you not like it?”
“Tell me what you think.”
I could almost hear Shinomiya-san’s impish giggle. This was bad—she had me right where she wanted. I was completely at her mercy.
“What do you mean, ‘what’!?” I typed back. “What’s with this!?”
“Isn’t it obvious? It’s the underwear I’m wearing today.”
I could practically see her smug face as she typed. I nearly smashed my phone but managed to restrain myself—a miracle. If I were at home, I’d have hurled it at my bed.
“You okay, Takumi?” Shin asked. “You’re not, like, emotionally unstable from exhaustion, are you?”
“I’m fine,” I said, forcing calm.
I took another deep breath to quell my racing heart and faced the image again. It was a selfie—Shinomiya-san standing in front of a mirror in her underwear. Not just any underwear, either; it was far too mature for a high school girl. The worst part? It suited her too well.
Intricate floral lace adorned the design. The bra, semi-sheer but embellished with elegant embroidery, balanced sensuality and sophistication. The garter belt cinched her waist, accentuating her curves, while the daring cut of the panties exuded allure. It was a bold three-piece set that could’ve veered into vulgarity, but Shinomiya-san’s innate purity neutralized it perfectly. Then it hit me—I’d seen this lingerie before. Where…?
As if reading my mind, another message arrived.
“This underwear is a new release from Uezu-san’s shop.”
“Oh… from the new catalog, right?” I replied.
“Exactly! I bought it last week while you were shooting with Yuzha-san!”
“I wanted you to be the first to see it. So…”
The message cut off abruptly. Why stop there? I wondered, but the answer came from above.
“Care to share your thoughts, Anno-kun?” Shinomiya-san said, standing before me with a devilish smile.
“Sh-Shinomiya-san…” I stammered.
Asking for my opinion in the middle of class, with Shin and others within earshot, was the worst possible scenario. As I scrambled for a response, she puffed out her cheeks and tapped at her phone.
“Does it not suit me? Or is a garter belt not your taste, Anno-kun?”
I groaned inwardly, clenching my fist under the desk to suppress my frustration. She knew I couldn’t respond here and was teasing me mercilessly. Her innocent facade hid a bold streak.
“What’s this about opinions, Shinomiya-san?” Shin asked.
“Fufu, nothing major,” she said breezily. “Yesterday, Anno-kun and I talked about a movie. Since he watched it, I wanted to hear if he enjoyed it.”
“Oh, movie talk?” Shin said. “Tell me too, Takumi. What’d you watch?”
I shot Shinomiya-san a glare, silently pleading, Why drag him into this? But to her, it was like a gentle breeze. Her phone pinged again.
“What kind of underwear do you like, Anno-kun? Tell me, and I’ll wear it for a selfie just for you.”
“Or… would you rather see it in person?”
“How about a shoot? Like the one you did with Yuzha-san and the others…”
A shiver ran down my spine, the pressure overwhelming. She knew about the shoot—Shin had seen the SNS posts—but her mention of “Yuzha-san and the others” was alarming. Did she know someone else was there? And who?
“By the way, the photos you took with Yuzha-san were amazing,” she wrote. “You’re truly her exclusive photographer.”
“Thanks,” I replied. “I’m glad you think so.”
Calm down, don’t overthink, I told myself. This could be her ploy to rattle me. I’d explicitly told Alice-san not to post those photos on SNS—private shoot, agency permissions, all that. Unlike Yuzha-san’s edited shots, I’d handed Alice-san’s raw data over, and she’d kept her promise. There was no way Shinomiya-san could know.
“You’ll give me your thoughts on my underwear, right?”
“No rush—tell me at this weekend’s shoot.”
“Hold on. What do you mean, ‘all at once’?”
“Isn’t it obvious? Every day until our shoot, I’ll send you a selfie of the underwear I’m wearing. I expect your thoughts on each one.”
“Hey, you sure you’re okay?” Shin said, concerned. “If you’re feeling rough, maybe hit the infirmary.”
“…Yeah, maybe,” I said, grabbing my bag to leave early.
But the homeroom bell rang, and Miko-sensei burst in with her usual energy, ruining my escape. “Let’s tackle today with gusto, Anno-kun!” Shinomiya-san said, her angelic smile sounding suspiciously like, “You’re not getting away.”
I told myself it was just exhaustion and focused on surviving the weekend shoot.
“Answer me, Anno-kun,” Shinomiya-san demanded. “Why do you call my sister Alice-san?”
The weekend arrived with no plan to handle her, and now Shinomiya-san had shown up at my place unannounced at noon. In my living room, she was interrogating me, holding up that photo—the one I’d desperately tried to ignore.
“What’s wrong, Anno-kun?” she pressed, her voice pouty. “Don’t just sit there—answer my question!”
Snapped out of my silence by her tone, I realized she’d leaned across the table, her face inches from mine. Startled, I fell off my chair.
“Eek!” she gasped. “Anno-kun, are you okay!?”
“Y-Yeah, I’m fine,” I said, rubbing my hip as I stood and sat back down. “What were we talking about?”
“Why you call my sister by her first name,” she said, taking a deep breath to compose herself. “What’s your relationship with her?”
“First, tell me,” I said, “how’d you get that photo of Alice-san? Did Yuzha-san give it to you?”
“…She sent it to me,” Shinomiya-san admitted. “With a message saying, ‘Tak-kun shot these!’”
“That woman, I swear…” I groaned, clutching my head.
I could already hear Alice-san’s defense: “I sent it to Rinoa-chan, but I didn’t post it on SNS, like I promised!” She’d probably think it was just casual sharing, which made it worse.
“I answered your question,” Shinomiya-san said. “Now it’s your turn.”
Was she jealous? No way I’d assume that. After a pause, I threw out the first excuse that came to mind. “It’s nothing special,” I said. “I just talked to her a bit through Yuzha-san.”
“Then why her first name?” she pressed. “You wouldn’t call someone you barely know like that, right?”
“She kept insisting,” I said. “‘Calling me Shinomiya-san would mix me up with Rinoa! Just use my first name!’ So I gave in.”
She hadn’t actually insisted, but I’d felt the pressure. A little embellishment to shift the blame seemed fair, given Alice-san’s antics. She owed me that much.
“I see…” Shinomiya-san said, her tone skeptical. “So if someone pesters you enough, you’ll call even a casual acquaintance by their first name?”
“How’d you get that from what I said!?” I exclaimed.
“You took my first time, and now you’re cozying up to my sister…” she huffed, turning away with a pout. “You’re such a jerk, Anno-kun. A womanizer. An older-woman killer.”
I was dumbfounded. “Jerk” was one thing, but “womanizer”? And “older-woman killer”? That was slander of the highest order.
“Uh, Shinomiya-san?” I said cautiously. “Are you… mad?”
“Not mad!” she said, her tone dripping with petulance. “Just a little upset!”
That sounded like mad to me. I gave a wry smile and shrugged. But what was I supposed to do when she was radiating “I don’t even want to talk to you”? I’d never dated, so I was at a loss. This was derailing our shoot. I wanted to bang my head on the table, but then I remembered something Uezu-san, the shop manager, had once told me.
I couldn’t recall exactly when—probably after I’d argued with Yuzha-san about why I couldn’t shoot anyone else.
“Listen, Tak-kun,” Uezu-san had said with a wink. “Girls want to feel special to the guy they like. If you upset her, try calling her Yuki-san instead of her cosplay name, Yuzha-san. Trust me, it’ll work like a charm.”
I’d followed his advice, and it was beyond effective—more like a miracle drug. Yuzha-san’s mood flipped, we made up, but then she insisted I call her Yuki-san with “affection and intimacy” from then on. Thankfully, Uezu-san had chewed her out: “Calling her by her real name all the time is obviously off-limits!” Crisis averted.
Back to the present. This was probably what Shinomiya-san wanted. It was embarrassing enough to make my face burn, but we were getting nowhere, so I took a deep breath, steeled myself, and said, “So… could you tell me how to cheer you up, Rinoa-san?”
She froze. “If you think I’ll forgive you that easily, you’re wrong! Call me by my… Wait, what did you just say, Anno-kun?”
“How can I cheer you up?” I repeated.
“No, after that!” she said, leaning forward so close our noses nearly touched. “What did you say!?”
Her long lashes, gem-like eyes, and the soft bounce of her curves right in front of me sent my heart racing. “I said, ‘Could you tell me how to cheer you up, Rinoa-san?’” I repeated. “Was that… bad?”
“No, it’s not bad!” she said, beaming. “From now on, call me Rinoa with love and affection, okay?”
Don’t say the same thing as Yuzha-san, I thought, chuckling wryly. “I don’t know, that might be a bit…”
“If you don’t, I’ll tell Miko-sensei you secretly photographed me!” she threatened. “Is that what you want!?”
“Blackmail!?” I gasped.
Telling Miko-sensei about secret photos would mean admitting she’d done a near-striptease in an empty classroom after school. It was a bold move, like cutting flesh to break bone. Was calling her by her first name that important? Her intense, almost menacing stare overwhelmed me, and I couldn’t speak.
My mind waged war: one voice urging me to surrender, another screaming to resist. After a moment, I made my choice. “Okay, fine… I’ll call you Rinoa-san from now on.”
“Fufu, I knew you’d come through, Anno-kun,” she said, patting my head with a radiant smile. “You’re so sweet and honest.”
What was this feeling of being played? I felt like a pawn on her chessboard. But I wasn’t completely spineless. “Only when we’re alone, though,” I said. “If that’s not okay, do whatever you want, Rinoa-san.”
Calling her Rinoa-san in public, especially at school with Shin and her fan club around, would get me crucified and burned at the stake.
“…Only when we’re alone?” she said, blushing and squirming. “Fufu, that sounds so nice.”
“It’s exciting,” she added, her reaction almost perverse, making me regret my choice instantly.
“Are you sure about this, Anno-kun?” she said. “Calling me by my name only when we’re alone means adding another secret, you know.”
“Haha, what’s one or two more secrets at this point?” I said.
Our secret shoots, sparked by that hidden photo, were piling up. More would come, so this was just a drop in the bucket.
“True,” she said. “For you, this is nothing. Like when you sleepily called me ‘Mom’ and hugged me… You were so cute.”
“Forget that!” I pleaded, slamming my head on the table. “Or just kill me now!”
I covered my ears, mortified. It was the morning after a shoot at her house, when we’d ended up spending the night. In my groggy state, seeing her in an apron making breakfast, I’d mistaken her for my mom and hugged her. Easily a top-three life failure.
“Fufu, how could I forget?” she said. “The dependable Anno-kun acting like a needy kid? It awakened my maternal instincts.”
She stood, moving from across to beside me. Her smile was far from maternal—sultry and dangerous. Her hand slid onto my knee, her touch electrifyingly seductive. “Come to me anytime, as much as you want,” she said. “I’ll soothe you plenty.”
“Don’t try to hold that over me,” I said, flustered.
“How about a lap pillow and ear-cleaning?” she offered, patting her thighs.
Her soft, shapely thighs as a pillow, her gentle hands cleaning my ears and stroking my head—it’d melt away a day’s fatigue. Imagining it, I swallowed hard, my heart pounding despite the innocence of it.
“Or maybe I could sleep next to you?” she added.
“S-Sleep next to!?” I squeaked, my voice cracking.
We’d recently shared a bed, and while it was blissful, it was terrible for my mental health. Her mocking giggle brought her face close to my ear. “If you want, I could hug you tight, too,” she whispered sweetly.
My heart nearly leapt out of my chest. Sleeping beside her was overwhelming enough, but a hug on top? I’d be wide awake, eyes blazing. If it was just my eyes, that’d be lucky. “If you let yourself lean on me, I’ll do it,” she said, giggling. “What do you say?”
She was toying with me, just like Alice-san—tormenting a pure-hearted teenage boy’s emotions. “Sigh… Stop throwing around stuff like sleeping together or hugging,” I said. “What if I take it the wrong way?”
“Take it the wrong way?” she said, chuckling. “What if I said it’s okay to—ow!”
I dropped a hand-chop on her head and stood, retreating to the sofa. Continuing at her pace would’ve led to me actually hugging her. Thank God my rationality held. “We’re close, so there’s no need to hold back,” she pouted, rubbing her head. “Don’t you know the saying, ‘A man who refuses what’s offered is no man’? Look it up if you don’t!”
“Sure, I’ll check it out sometime,” I said, rolling my eyes. She’s the one who needs to look it up. “Anyway, you didn’t come here to grill me about Alice-san’s photos, right?”
“Oh, right!” she said, snapping to attention. “You promised to shoot me all wet and see-through today!”
“That’s… technically correct, but can’t you phrase it better?” I said.
Her bluntness was too much. A little tact would’ve been nice. “Let’s not sweat the details,” she said. “But I have a suggestion. Instead of getting caught in the rain on the way home from school, how about a date interrupted by rain?”
Her sudden shift to serious mode was jarring. I cleared my throat, calming myself before responding. “Sounds good,” I said. “Private clothes make it easier to imagine what happens next, like a story unfolding. It could be fun.”
“A story?” she asked, tilting her head.
“Up until now—today included—we’ve just picked a setting or outfit and shot,” I explained. “But this time, we could shoot it like a narrative: ‘Out on a date with your lover, you get caught in the rain and end up soaked.’”
“I see… a date with my lover,” she murmured, her expression thoughtful.
I worried she was misinterpreting, but I’d brought this up for a reason. Shinomiya-san’s main drive for being photographed was to “see a side of herself she didn’t know.” Our past shoots had indeed revealed glimpses of the real Rinoa Shinomiya, including her buried feelings for her sister.
What kind of Rinoa Shinomiya should I capture next? Flipping through Yuzha-san’s old photobooks, I’d wondered what characters would suit her. A maid outfit would work—maybe even a collab with Alice-san as blue- and pink-haired maid sisters. It’d be a hit. Or perhaps… As I mused, a thought slipped out: “I want to make a photobook of Shinomiya-san someday.”
It was like a revelation, my new goal. But it was my own selfish desire. If she wasn’t interested, I’d shelve it. First, I needed to know what she wanted.
“If we get caught in the rain during a date and rush home, the next scene would be… the boyfriend’s shirt, right?” Shinomiya-san said.
“…Huh?” I replied, startled.
Before I knew it, Shinomiya-san had slid into the seat next to me. Her casual remark yanked me back from the sea of thoughts I’d been drifting in.
“You go to your boyfriend’s place after getting soaked in the rain,” she continued. “You dry your wet clothes, and in the meantime, you borrow his. It’s the natural flow, isn’t it?”
“W-Well, yeah…” I stammered.
“Or,” she said, her voice teasing, “are you saying you’d let your precious girlfriend stay in just her underwear while her clothes dry, Anno-kun? Or maybe you’d have her strip completely and then—”
“STOP!” I shouted, cutting her off. “Don’t say another word! And stop bouncing between serious and devilish like that!”
A headache and dizziness hit me at once, and I pressed my temples. Borrowing a boyfriend’s shirt while drying wet clothes wasn’t wrong—it was natural, like she said. A boyfriend-shirt scenario was even something I’d hoped for. But that last bit was way too much.
“I wouldn’t mind if you insisted, Anno-kun,” she said with a playful grin. “In fact, I’d go further than my sister—ow! What was that for!?”
“That’s for trying to compete with Alice-san,” I said, dropping a hand-chop on her head before gently patting it.
She let out a soft “Ugh,” her cheeks flushing as she grumbled in protest.
“Let’s put this aside for now,” I said. “Are you seriously doing the boyfriend-shirt thing? Didn’t you bring spare clothes?”
“Of course not,” she said matter-of-factly. “That was the plan all along.”
I sighed. Of course it was. I’d suspected as much but asked just to be sure. “Fine, I’ll lend you my clothes after the shoot,” I said, holding back my exasperation.
“So we’ll shoot me in your clothes while mine dry!” she said, clapping her hands. “Then we’ll have dinner! I’ll cook for you!”
Shooting her in my clothes was fine, but how did we jump to dinner? “I can’t let you cook dinner,” I said. “And if you stay too late… won’t your parents say something?”
I asked cautiously. Shinomiya-san’s household could be summed up in one word: strict. Her father was a doctor with his own practice, and her mother had built a successful apparel company from the ground up. The expectations they placed on her were heavy. I didn’t know if she had a curfew, but staying out late would definitely raise eyebrows.
“Oh, don’t worry,” she said breezily. “My parents are away on a business trip for a week starting today.”
“…What’s that?” I said, stunned.
Of all times, her parents were gone now? It was too convenient. Could I trust her? Unlike Alice-san, Shinomiya-san wouldn’t lie about something like this… right?
“In fact,” she added, “I could even stay over tonight. Honestly, I’d love to… Is that okay?”
“No way!” I exclaimed. “Absolutely not!”
“You stayed at my place once,” she countered. “So it’s fine if I stay here, right?”
“That’s…” I faltered, unable to argue.
Her logic was airtight, and it hit hard. Still, a teenage girl staying over at a guy’s house without permission wasn’t exactly commendable, even if her parents wouldn’t find out.
“I know you’re smart, Anno-kun,” she said. “You’re probably thinking about what I’d need to stay over, but don’t worry. I planned for this and brought spare underwear.”
“You brought spare underwear!?” I said, shocked. “What about your wet clothes?”
“I’ll wash them here,” she said with a smile. “That way, we can play house together—a two-for-one deal.”
Her words froze my brain. Even if it was pretend, the idea of living under one roof with Shinomiya-san made it impossible not to imagine that life.
“So, what do you say, Anno-kun?” she asked, leaning closer. “Want to try a one-day live-in with me?”
“I…” I hesitated.
My rationality screamed No! while my instincts begged me to nod. Her face was so close our noses nearly touched—long lashes, full lips, gem-like eyes, and an intoxicating aura numbing my brain. Desperately, I churned out an answer. “J-Just one night, then,” I said.
“I knew you’d say that, Anno-kun,” she said, beaming. “How about I go home tomorrow to grab clothes and my uniform? Then we can extend the sleepover!”
Living with someone like Shinomiya-san, a breathtaking and mischievous beauty, in a house where I was used to being alone? I’d turn into a complete wreck. “No way!” I said firmly. “That’s too tempting, but I can see the trouble coming, so let’s not.”
“Got it,” she said, nodding. “We’ll think about it after tonight, then?”
“That’s not what I meant!” I protested. “It’s only tonight, okay!?”
Her momentum suggested she’d steamroll into staying longer, so I summoned every ounce of willpower. There were things you could let slide and things you couldn’t—this was the latter.
“Sigh… Fine,” she said, pouting. “Whether I stay tomorrow depends on what your body says.”
“My body?” I said, alarmed. “What are you planning tonight!?”
“Fufu, isn’t it obvious?” she said, leaning even closer, her breath hot against my ear as she whispered sweetly, “I’ll make you a delicious dinner. One so good you’ll beg for more tomorrow.”
“Oh… dinner,” I said, relieved.
“My, my, Anno-kun,” she teased, licking her lips. “What did you think I meant? Perhaps… bathing together or sharing a bed?”
Her sultry gesture sent a shiver down my spine. Her allure was so potent, like a succubus ready to drain my soul. “You’re such a perv, Anno-kun,” she said in a cute, teasing voice, utterly at odds with her pure-princess image.
“Gah!?” I gasped, clutching my chest and doubling over.
That word from her was a foul. A single phrase shouldn’t wreak this much havoc on my emotions. “This is fun, but enough teasing,” she said. “Shall we prep for the shoot?”
“…Yeah,” I said, exhausted.
I’d barely eaten breakfast-lunch, yet I felt like I’d worked a full day. “First, I need to get wet,” she said. “Can I use your bathroom? I’ll take a shower.”
“Wait,” I said. “You don’t need a shower. We can fake the rain-soaked look.”
“Really?” she said, surprised. “There’s a trick for that?”
“Yup,” I said smugly. “Wait here. I’ll grab the camera and stuff.”
I stood, heading to my room. I’d anticipated this since she proposed the wet scenario and had a plan. Returning with my camera, flash, and props, I showed her the key item. “Welcome back, Anno-kun,” she said. “Is that… a spray bottle?”
“Exactly,” I said. “This lets me wet just the parts we need.”
It was a cheap empty spray bottle from a hundred-yen store. Unlike a shower, which wets everything broadly, this allowed precise control.
“It’ll make you look soaked,” I explained. “Spray before shooting to get water dripping from your hair, and it’ll give just the right see-through effect.”
I said it confidently, though I was just recalling a similar trick I’d used with Yuzha-san. “Wow, Anno-kun,” she said, impressed. “Are you a genius?”
“I can’t exactly douse you like we did with the swimsuit shoot,” I said.
A fully soaked look wasn’t necessary. If we had to, a swimsuit under clothes would work, but that’d be better for a beach shoot. “I’ll fill it with water!” she said. “Oh, where should we shoot? We haven’t decided, right?”
“Good point,” I said. “For a ‘caught in the rain and rushing home’ vibe, maybe the entryway? Or the changing room, since you’d be wiping down?”
“Yes!” she said, raising her hand enthusiastically. “The changing room! We can add more water if needed, and it’s perfect for transitioning to undressing!”
Her fervor was overwhelming but acceptable. I nodded, and her face lit up with a radiant smile. She headed to the kitchen to fill the spray bottle with a whoosh, while I adjusted the camera settings.
“Fufu,” she said dreamily, filling the bottle. “I’m about to get soaked by you, Anno-kun. I’m so excited!”
Her words, paired with her expression, sounded like we were about to do something scandalous. I frantically banished the indecent images flooding my mind.
With preparations done, Shinomiya-san and I moved to the changing room for the shoot.
“Come on, Anno-kun,” she said, spreading her arms wide. “Soak me to your heart’s content!”
“…Fine, I’m not even gonna comment,” I said, sighing and shrugging.
Her theatrics would break me if I took them seriously. Today, she wore a knit dress with a mermaid silhouette that accentuated her femininity. The sleeveless ribbed knit top paired with sheer, asymmetrical fabric was unique, elegant, and perfectly suited to her vibe. Knowing I was about to drench it made my hands tremble with nerves.
“Phew… Here we go,” I said.
“Yes, please!” she replied eagerly.
My throat was dry with tension, but I’d done this with Yuzha-san, so I thought I’d be fine. Yet my heart pounded harder than ever. After a couple of deep breaths, I put my finger on the spray bottle’s trigger.
Starting with her hair, I sprayed lightly. We could add more for dripping effects later, so for now, I focused on an overall wet look. “You okay?” I asked. “Not too cold?”
“I’m fine,” she said. “It actually feels nice.”
It was humid today, nearly a heatwave, so this shoot was fitting. “I wondered how a spray bottle would work,” she said, “but it really gets things wet.”
“The mist is fine,” I said. “It’s easier than a shower and looks realistic.”
I tried to stay calm despite my nerves, but the more I told myself to relax, the faster my heart raced—a vicious cycle. Shinomiya-san, as if sensing my struggle, smirked devilishly. “Fufu, time for the clothes, Anno-kun,” she said.
“…I know, you don’t have to say it,” I grumbled.
She was teasing me, and knowing it made me curt. Her smile deepened at my obvious reaction. Damn it, she’s loving this. I couldn’t let her have all the fun. Exhaling deeply, I sprayed the knit dress, slowly but surely soaking it. Her underwear began to show through—elegant black with floral patterns. I thought I’d gotten used to her daily selfie barrage, but I was wrong. Swallowing hard, I started to lower the bottle when—
“Don’t stop… Keep going, please,” she said, her voice sultry as she grabbed my hand.
Her expression was feverish, her eyes intense, despite the camera not yet rolling. “Sh-Shinomiya-san?” I stammered.
“It’s not enough,” she said. “Soak me more, Anno-kun. Make me wetter.”
“I-I think it’s plenty…” I said, flustered.
Her phrasing was killing me. I knew it was just water, but my mind wandered to dangerous places. “And the name,” she added. “We agreed you’d call me Rinoa when we’re alone. Did you forget already?”
“S-Sorry… R-Rinoa-san…” I said, my face burning.
Calling Alice-san by her name hadn’t fazed me, but with Shinomiya-san—Rinoa-san—it made my heart race and my chest tighten. Why? Pondering the mystery, I resumed spraying as she requested. “Hey, Anno-kun,” she said. “Why focus on my stomach? Spray higher… on my chest, too.”
“Th-That’s… it’s already see-through enough…” I said.
“No, it’s not,” she insisted. “Soak it properly. Otherwise, it won’t show right in the photos.”
“…Tch,” I muttered, cursing her logic internally.
Reluctantly, I sprayed until the knit clung to her skin, revealing not just the color but the intricate design of her underwear. “How’s this?” she asked, satisfied.
“It’s… nicely see-through,” I admitted.
“Now here, too, please.”
She tapped her neck, collarbone, and the valley between her breasts—a line so artistically perfect it was almost sinful. “I heard men get a thrill when water drips from the neck to the cleavage,” she said. “What do you think?”
“…Yeah,” I said after three seconds of sluggish thought.
I sprayed as directed, water glistening on her porcelain skin, a droplet tracing down her cleavage. The sight was mesmerizing, holding my gaze hostage. “Anno-kun,” she said softly, “staring like that is embarrassing.”
“S-Sorry!” I said, snapping out of it.
“Fufu,” she giggled. “From here on, use the lens, okay?”
The shoot hadn’t even started, and I was already ensnared by her. What would happen next? The thought was daunting, so I sighed, set down the spray bottle, and picked up my camera, letting my mind go blank.
“Exhausted…” I muttered, collapsing onto the sofa and staring at the ceiling.
It was past 10:00 p.m. The shoot was long over, dinner was done, and we were in relaxation mode, but my heart wouldn’t settle. The washing machine’s clatter mixed with a faint, cute hum from the bathroom—Shinomiya-san’s voice.
“Is she really staying over…?” I said to myself.
I’d thought she was joking, but she was dead serious. After the shoot, she seamlessly started cooking dinner and was now casually taking a bath. “Might as well work,” I said.
If you extinguish your mind, even fire feels cool. Thinking about her in the bath was sparking impure thoughts. Better to go mindless. I dragged myself to my room, booted up my computer, and began editing the photos from earlier.
The shoot had gone well. The spray bottle perfectly recreated the “girlfriend soaked in the rain during a date” vibe, better than I’d hoped. “It’s a shame no one can see these,” I muttered, checking each photo. “But they can’t be shown.”
Wet hair clung to her skin, black lace underwear faintly visible through the knit dress, its tight fit accentuating her curves’ outline—what you’d call “clothed eroticism.” It was sexier than nudity. Add her flushed cheeks, shy yet expectant gaze, and feverish eyes staring into the lens, and the photos’ allure and impact broke all limits.
“I don’t want to show these,” I admitted.
Not just because they’d reveal me as the photographer, ending my high school life if discovered—Shinomiya-san would face consequences, too. “But I still want to make that photobook…” I said.
It wasn’t a death wish. I was conflicted. I’d never admit it to her, but I had a possessive streak. High schooler Anno Takumi wanted to keep the unknown sides of classmate Shinomiya Rinoa all to himself. But photographer Anno Takumi wanted the world to see the many faces of this goddess-like beauty.
Her bright, dazzling smile could shift to a sultry, captivating one. Pure and innocent on the surface, she hid a seductive devil who wielded her curves and body to unravel reason. She switched between these sides effortlessly, without coaching, the moment the camera turned on. Her natural talent rivaled Yuzha-san’s, maybe even surpassed it. Hoarding that for myself felt wrong.
“It’s a tough problem,” I said.
I switched to another photo. Same outfit, but a full-body shot from a low angle. Not just her upper body but her lower half was soaked, revealing her bra and panties—black with purple floral lace, starkly visible.
“D-Don’t stare so much… It’s embarrassing,” she’d said.
She’d suggested the full-body shot herself, saying it’d be unnatural if only part of her was wet. So she’d soaked the lower half of her dress, making the mature panties’ outline glaringly clear. As a healthy teenage boy, I couldn’t help but stare. Getting sulky about it was unfair.
Still, I’d shot her from every angle, heart blank. “…Hey, Anno-kun. Want to see?” she’d murmured, stopping my hands. Head lowered, ears red, she’d reached for her skirt’s hem.
“If you want… I could show you, just for you…”
Realizing her intent, I’d snapped continuous shots as she slowly lifted her skirt, stopping just short of the forbidden zone, her face averted in embarrassment. “If it’s you, Anno-kun, I wouldn’t mind showing… No, I want you to see…”
Her heated, pleading voice made me swallow hard. My response—
“What are you doing, Anno-kun?” Shinomiya-san’s voice snapped me back.
“—Eek!?” I yelped, my shoulders jumping as a weird noise escaped.
Spinning my chair, I saw her standing there, fresh from the bath, toweling her hair. She wore my black T-shirt and shorts—not the ones from the boyfriend-shirt shoot. I’d offered my mom’s clothes for sleeping, but she’d insisted, “I want Anno-kun’s loungewear!” So I’d lent her my newest, cleanest set.
“Knock before entering someone’s room,” I said.
“How rude,” she said. “I knocked three times—tap, tap, tap. Didn’t you hear?”
“…I didn’t notice,” I admitted.
Unbelievable. I’d been so focused on the photos that I missed it, though three knocks should’ve registered, no matter how engrossed I was. “Fufu,” she giggled. “Were you looking at something naughty while I was in the bath?”
“…What?” I said, incredulous.
“No need to hide it,” she said, smirking knowingly. “You’re a teenage boy, and I know you’re secretly a perv.”
I sighed, muttering internally, You don’t know anything. Technically, the answer was yes, but she’d never guess it was her photos. Still, this was about my honor, so I quickly closed the file to hide the evidence.
“Hey!” she protested. “Why’d you close it? Show me! It’ll help with future shoots!”
She dove toward me, and sitting in my chair, I couldn’t dodge. Her post-bath skin was faintly flushed, her wet hair exuding a sweet, honey-like allure—a deadly poison that could send me to heaven with one taste. Pure sorcery. No high school girl should wield this power. The fact that her hair and body smelled of my shampoo and body soap only amplified the chaos in my heart.
“Fufu, spacing out, Anno-kun?” she teased.
“I’m not spacing out!” I said. “And for the record, I wasn’t looking at anything naughty. Just checking photos.”
“Photos?” she said, her voice sharp with suspicion. “You mean my sister’s scandalous loungewear shots?”
Her grip tightened, shifting from a hug to a chokehold, making it hard to breathe. “N-No,” I gasped. “I was looking at your photos from today, Rinoa-san.”
“…Me?” she said, surprised.
Resigned, I reopened the file, revealing the image of her lifting her soaked dress. “I was picking which ones to use,” I said. “Nothing shady.”
“Use?” she said, pulling away with a gasp. “As… as material!?”
Her shocked expression was almost comical. Sighing, I pointed to the door. “Let’s take a moment of silence,” I said. “Then turn around and leave.”
“Fufu, just kidding,” she said, snuggling closer. “Don’t sulk.”
Was it my imagination, or did her soft curves feel even softer pressed against my arm? “Back to the point,” she said, peering at the screen so close our cheeks nearly touched. “What were you checking?”
Her scent and warmth overwhelmed me, but I fought to focus. “I always give you the photos, right?” I said. “I was choosing which ones. Then I’ll edit them.”
“Edit?” she asked.
“Retouching, basically,” I said. “Is this even interesting to you?”
“Yes, very!” she said. “Can I watch? I promise I won’t bother you.”
It was tedious work—fine adjustments with no flair. I figured she’d get bored, but if she insisted, I had no reason to refuse. “Fine,” I said. “I’d use your photos, but I’m on a tight deadline for Yuzha-san’s photobook. Is that okay?”
“I’d be lying if I said I had no objections,” she said, “but deadlines come first.”
“Thanks for understanding,” I said with a wry smile.
I started editing a photo of Yuzha-san as a popular character from a post-apocalyptic mobile game, a cute girl wielding a gun against monsters. The tasks were removing stray flash reflections, tweaking skin texture, and adjusting color tones and effects. Yuzha-san’s costumes, makeup, and character understanding were flawless, so my job was to enhance realism, using editing software to make the photos feel like they belonged to another, tangible world.
“…Let’s do this,” I said, slapping my cheeks for focus.
Ignoring Shinomiya-san watching beside me, I told myself this was for Yuzha’s photobook. Focus.
The mechanical clicks of my mouse and keyboard echoed in the quiet room. True to her word, Shinomiya-san watched silently, and though I was nervous at first, I soon lost myself in the work. When I finished a good chunk and stretched, I checked the clock—it was past midnight.
“Phew… It’s that late already?” I said. “Rinoa-san, time to get ready for—seriously?”
The reason for the silence hit me. Shinomiya-san, who’d been watching, was now lying on my bed, fast asleep, breathing softly. This was a problem. I’d planned for her to sleep in my mom’s bed, so I’d have to wake her. But her adorable sleeping face made that feel cruel.
“Sigh… Guess I’m taking the sofa,” I said.
My body would ache, but I’d survive one night. Tomorrow, she was definitely going home. With that resolve, I approached to lift her into bed without waking her, but my hand froze. Her ample curves, their peaks subtly pressing against the T-shirt, caught my eye. Then I remembered—she wasn’t just washing her dress.
“No way,” I said. “She said she brought spare underwear…”
I’d agreed to the sleepover because she’d assured me, “Want me to show you proof?” I’d been too embarrassed to check, but she wouldn’t lie… right? “…No way, right?” I repeated, voice shaking.
I knew I shouldn’t look, but my eyes drifted from her chest downward. The faint outline of her groin appeared, her pubic bone barely visible—an illusion, it had to be. “Idiot!” I shouted, punching the air in frustration, stomping and clutching my head.
“I shouldn’t have let her stay…” I muttered, sighing heavily.
Banishing impure thoughts, I closed my eyes, turned my head, and carefully lifted her into bed without looking, tucking her in. “…There,” I said.
Problem solved, but seeing what I shouldn’t have obliterated my sleepiness. This was the worst. I’d have to work until dawn. Grabbing a blanket from my mom’s room, I draped it over my head and sat back down. “Forget it, forget it, forget it…” I chanted like a mantra, diving into work to survive the night.
Occasionally, from the bed, I heard a sulky, “…Anno-kun, you jerk. Coward.”
It had to be sleep-deprived hallucinations. I convinced myself of that and kept working.
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