Since only Tsurumi Mirei remained, I didn’t bother opening the car doors or windows.

She lay draped over my back as I locked the car—windows sealed, all four doors shut tight. This would be my last time stepping out here, after all. Better tidy up properly. I walked to the courtyard gate, scanned the surroundings, and locked it.

Truthfully, locking wasn’t necessary. This was an upscale neighborhood with security so tight you could practically sleep with doors wide open. That’s why I’d left the gate unlocked earlier.

Still, sealing things off is human nature. We crave safety through barriers—even me. Though my area was safe, I always locked the courtyard gate before bed. Other homes likely did the same. It’s our core: lonely yet craving connection.

*Overthinking again.* I’m no philosopher. If I solved “Who am I? Where am I going?” I’d be legendary. Let Aristotle and Socrates tackle humanity’s big questions.

…Though they’re long gone. Probably figured it all out by now, back at the source.

After securing the gate, I carried Tsurumi down the narrow path toward my villa.

Her body trembled against my back the whole way. Drunk nerves? Or just flustered about being carried by a guy for the first time?

*Doesn’t matter.* My job was simple: get her to a guest room, let her sleep it off. After tonight, we’d be strangers.

I didn’t want entanglements with Tsurumi. Where was my gentle, caring older sister type? That “oily senior” from *A World With You*—where’d she vanish to?

Inside the villa, I locked the front door too. Double security. Another human flaw: distrust.

…But Tsurumi’s shaking intensified. Something’s off.

“Teacher,” I asked, “why are you trembling so badly? What’s wrong?”

Her reply came in a weird, strained tone—like she was forcing words out:

“N-Nothing! Absolutely… nothing! Just hurry… get me to… a guest room! A *private* one! Your place is huge… there must be extras! Take me… *now*!”

Her voice hitched, trembling with suppressed urgency. That final burst made me speed up.

“Right! Got it.”

I headed for the smaller guest room downstairs. The door creaked open—dusty but clean.

Just as I stepped inside, Tsurumi unleashed a machine-gun volley:

“*Forget it!* Bathroom first! *Hurry!*”

Too fast. Even I—a guy who understands Jay Chou’s lyrics—couldn’t catch it.

“Huh? Slow down, Teacher! Didn’t catch that. Repeat?”

Her grip tightened, fingers digging into my shoulders like she wanted to melt into me. She was holding back something fierce.

“BATHROOM! *NOW!*”

*Ohhh.*

Slower this time—still Jay Chou-speed, but clear. I finally got it. She needed relief.

*You want me to hurry?* I smirked inwardly. *I’ll take my sweet time. Let you squirm a little.*

The bathroom was down the hall, near the girls’ rooms. This guest room was isolated—rarely used, tucked away like a forgotten relic. Still, it was only seconds away. The main suite and large guest room both had en-suites; only this one didn’t.

*Serves you right for picking the loneliest room.*

*How long to drag this out? Thirty seconds? A minute? Two?*

…*One minute. Just a tiny punishment.*

I started walking, counting silently:

*One… two… three…*

*…sixty.* Time’s up.

The bathroom door was steps away. My internal clock never failed.

Tsurumi’s trembling had turned violent. Every shiver pressed her warmth against my back—a dizzying brush of youth against my skin. The more she shook, the more her body seemed to fuse with mine.

*Okay, she’s about to snap.*

I dropped the act, lunging forward and shoving the bathroom door open.

“Teacher! We’re here! You can get down now!” I said, feigning concern.

“Mm!”

Her trembling stopped. Her arms loosened around my neck.

***THUD!***

I spun around. Tsurumi lay sprawled on the tiles.

*Right.* I’d forgotten—she still couldn’t control her own body.