The school bell rang, signaling the end of classes at Kaiyue High. Someone who hated lessons felt a rush of freedom—except...

"Brat, don’t forget your study session today."

Right. Class rep Yuki had made it clear this morning: private tutoring awaited.

"Can I skip it...?"

"No."

Moyu Manatsu wanted to die. *Damn it, my math skills are beyond saving. Why force this?*

But reality gave her no choice.

"We’ll hold it at my place. Your room’s a dump—I can’t breathe in there."

True enough. Moyu’s apartment resembled a landfill. Hardly study-friendly.

Yuki’s house, meanwhile, was spacious, spotless, and wealthy. Obviously the better option.

"...Fine."

She couldn’t refuse anyway.

Backpacks slung over shoulders, they walked side by side out of the classroom, drawing curious glances.

*They must be dating.* Many students thought so.

Outside the building, brutal sunlight scorched their faces. Sweat slicked their skin within minutes. The girl wiped her brow, cursing the weather.

"This heat is unbearable."

"Still wearing long sleeves in this weather? Aren’t you sweltering?"

"Yuki, are you doing this on purpose? You know exactly why I wear them in summer."

To hide how unlike a typical boy she was, Moyu wore modified long-sleeve uniforms—even in summer. Otherwise, her fair, delicate hands would draw too much attention.

Few pedestrians were out—likely due to the heat. Still, the air felt thick enough to choke on. *Global warming’s getting worse,* Moyu thought. *At this rate, the world’ll end.*

By the time they reached the tram stop, sweat soaked through Moyu’s shirt, clinging damply to her skin. Dark patches revealed the outline of her chest wrap beneath the fabric.

*This is bad.* Yuki noted.

"Let’s hurry," Yuki urged, pulling a heat-dazed Moyu toward the tram. As it pulled away from the platform, cool air-conditioning finally banished the sun’s tyranny—but Moyu’s damp shirt still clung, exposing parts of her wrap.

"Moyu, stand behind me."

Yuki cleared her throat, yanking her back without explanation. A temporary fix, but it might deter prying eyes.

Moyu didn’t care. All she craved was Yuki’s air-conditioned room.

When the tram stopped, the sun’s assault returned. Her newly dried shirt soaked through again. Moyu nearly swore.

After a few turns, a traditional Japanese wooden house appeared—elegant and imposing. Inside, past several corridors, lay a dojo. Yuki’s family ran it as a front.

Stepping into the spacious home, Moyu kicked off her shoes, marveling at the luxury.

"Welcome back, Miss Yuki. And Miss Manatsu too today?"

Falconleaf Nanami greeted them warmly, glancing at the cross-dressing girl.

"Nanami, we’ll study in my room. Could you bring snacks?"

"Leave it to me."

Once Nanami left, Moyu followed Yuki upstairs. Yuki’s room was immaculate: white-themed, matching her personality, with a bookshelf and cute plushies on the bed. She’d never invite a boy here—but since Moyu was now a girl, it didn’t matter.

"Brat, I’ve been meaning to say—your shirt’s soaked. Your wrap’s showing."

Yuki dropped her bag casually.

Moyu froze. Her damp clothes *were* revealing the wrap. One wrong move, and her secret would be exposed.

"...Guess it is."

"Why not take the wrap off? It’s uncomfortable when wet."

Yuki suggested.

"Okay, I’ll—"

Moyu almost agreed, then hesitated. She glanced at Yuki, flustered.

"Uh... Yuki? Can you turn around?"

She couldn’t strip in front of another girl. Not yet.

"Tch. Fine."

Yuki didn’t mind seeing her body, but remembering Moyu’s past as a boy, she relented.

Only when Yuki faced the wall did Moyu undo her collar buttons. Cool air kissed her bare skin as she unwound the sticky wrap, her chest slowly expanding—then stopping. The damp fabric reeked.

*Disgusting.* Summer made wraps filthy. Another reason she hated the season.

"Done?"

Yuki turned—and froze. Moyu stood bare-chested, clutching the wrap, face crimson as a boiled crab.

"Don’t look!"

She crossed her arms over her chest, flustered beyond words.

"...Right."

Yuki turned back, silent.

*Small, but her skin’s fair.* The thought slipped in unbidden.

Moyu tossed the wrap aside, buttoned her shirt, and fought to calm her flushed face. Being seen naked—even by a girl—still unnerved her.

"Okay. You can look now."

She moved to the low table, pulling out a math textbook.

Yuki turned, eyes flicking to Moyu’s chest, then her own.

"...Modest."

Her whisper was soft, but Moyu heard.

Objectively, Yuki’s curves dwarfed Moyu’s flat chest. No contest.

*Apologize right now!*

Some nerve snapped. Moyu didn’t know why the insult stung so deeply—but her composure shattered.

"Heh."

Yuki stayed calm, amusement glinting in her eyes.

*So she cares about this too.*

"Enough. Let’s study."

Finally getting to the point, Yuki watched as Moyu slumped over the table, resigned to her math torture.

Time flew. The sun dipped low, painting the world in warm hues.

They studied intently. Nanami brought tea and sweets. Moyu scratched her head over equations, groaning at each problem. Yuki patiently explained every stumbling block.

Her math was weak, but with Yuki’s help, she managed a few problems alone.

"Look at the time."

Yuki checked the clock. 6:04 PM. Dusk had fallen.

"I should head home."

Moyu packed her books. Yuki didn’t stop her—it *was* late.

"Review properly. No more zero scores. And do your homework alone."

"Can’t I copy yours? Stingy."

"This is for your own good."

Moyu stared at her sweat-stained wrap. Dry now, but grimy. She recoiled at the thought of wearing it again. Since becoming a girl, she’d grown sensitive to dirt.

"What’ll you do with that?"

"...Trash it."

She tossed the wrap into Yuki’s bin.

"Be careful on your way back."

Yuki walked her downstairs.

Moyu adjusted her hat, nonchalant.

"I’ll be fine."

Outside Yuki’s gate, she headed straight home. Without the wrap, her chest rose softly beneath her shirt—undeniably feminine. Passersby stared. *So that’s what Yuki meant by ‘be careful’.*

Moyu shielded her chest with her backpack. Crude, but effective. The stares lessened.

Passing the market, she kept her guard up, wary of every glance.

"Aren't you Manatsu? Why are you heading home so late?"

Suddenly, a girl's voice called out to her, and she spun around sharply.

"Kubo?"

Alarm bells blared in her mind.