Chisato's head throbbed dully. Things had spun out of control again and again, and never before had he felt this mentally scrambled.
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down, then glanced back at Utaha in bed to make sure.
Good. She was fast asleep from exhaustion and the alcohol. No signs of waking up.
In any case, now wasn't the time for a proper conversation. Whatever had to be said, it could wait until after he got Ryo out of here.
Utaha was asleep. Eriri was in the shower. There wouldn't be a better opportunity than now.
But just as Chisato turned around, ready to urge Ryo to leave, he found her pulling out her phone and typing something.
"Read the damn room, idiot! Put that away and get out of here!"
Chisato was already teetering on the brink of a mental breakdown.
Ryo immediately complied, carefully crawling out of the closet. Under Chisato's cover, she quietly made her way to the room's door.
Chisato opened it, looked around to confirm no one was nearby, and Ryo slipped out through the narrow gap.
"Don't go to sleep yet. I'll come find you later—we need to talk."
Leaving those words behind, Chisato closed the door.
Outside, Ryo stared blankly at the door. The entire experience, witnessing everything from start to finish... she couldn't even find the words to describe how it felt.
Still dazed, she turned and walked back to her own room with unsteady steps.
Halfway there, her phone vibrated again.
Snapping back to reality, she pulled out her phone.
It was a message from Nijika:
[Why didn't you answer my calls or reply to my messages? Where have you been this late?]
Opening it, she found a string of concerned messages from Nijika.
On top of that, her phone's notification bar showed several missed calls and unread messages from earlier—exactly when Ryo had been holding her breath inside the wardrobe, witnessing the intense and... explicit activities of the trio.
Ryo felt genuinely relieved that she always kept her phone on silent. If the ringtone had gone off inside the closet during that... passionate scene, she would've been exposed on the spot.
Then forget facing Utaha or Eriri ever again—she wouldn't even be able to pretend to act normal around them.
But the price she paid was that even after escaping danger, the echoes of Utaha and Eriri's gasping and moaning still rang faintly in her ears...
Ryo held her burning face with her left hand.
Maybe it was just from being in that stuffy closet for too long.
She didn't reply to Nijika's message—after all, their rooms weren't that far apart.
When she knocked on her door, Nijika opened it and immediately looked relieved, pulling her inside.
"Even if you just went out for a walk or something, at least keep in touch, okay? I was seriously worried something had happened to you. I was thinking about gathering everyone to look for you."
"Sorry, my phone was on silent, and I didn't notice it in my pocket."
Faced with Nijika's concerned scolding, Ryo could only obediently apologize.
"Seriously... don't make me worry like that."
Nijika's irritation faded once she saw Ryo earnestly bowing her head in apology.
Now that her initial panic had settled, Nijika finally noticed something strange.
She leaned in close to inspect Ryo's face carefully.
"Ryo, what's wrong... Your face is super red, and your eyes look watery. Were you crying?"
"No, I wasn't."
Ryo turned her head away in an attempt to look composed and walked further into the room, dodging further scrutiny. She then casually changed the subject.
"By the way, I think I saw you talking to some strangers in the hallway earlier. Who were they? They didn't look like your classmates."
"Oh, that? They're our fans!"
Nijika clapped her hands excitedly. Ryo's diversion worked like a charm.
"After you left, I was bored in the room and couldn't fall asleep, so I thought I'd go chat with my sister.
I had just stepped out when a few fans recognized me in the hallway. They were really enthusiastic—they even showed me their limited-edition albums!
So I gave them my autograph, took some selfies with them... Honestly, if I'd known this day would come so soon, I would've practiced writing a prettier signature."
So they were fans...
If that coincidental encounter hadn't happened, she wouldn't have ended up stuck listening to those sounds, and maybe she wouldn't be so mentally dazed right now.
Ryo sighed quietly to herself.
But reality is reality. There's no "what if." At this point, thinking about it is pointless—she needed to focus on what came next.
"I'm going to take a bath."
Back when she was curled up in the closet, her body had been so warm she didn't notice anything strange.
But after walking down the hotel hallway and returning to a room without strong heating, she was now acutely aware of a chill spreading between her legs.
Something had clearly left her body and was slowly cooling.
"Didn't you already take a bath earlier tonight?"
"I feel like the smell of grilled meat is still sticking to me."
"Well, alright then."
Ryo headed straight for the bathroom.
"Ryo, you forgot your change of clothes."
"Oh."
"Seriously, you're totally out of it. What were you even doing just now? You said you went to the hotel's store to buy snacks, but you came back empty-handed."
"I looked around, but didn't find any snacks I wanted."
"There are snacks you don't like? Since when?"
Nijika looked at her in shock.
Ryo stuck her tongue out at her playfully, grabbed her change of clothes, and went into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.
On their first night here, she'd even left the bathroom door open while chatting with Nijika outside during her bath, totally carefree.
But now, she couldn't help but feel a little guilty.
She took off her outer jacket, sweater, and bra—everything seemed fine so far.
Then she leaned against the wall to raise her legs one after another...
Sure enough, it was as if she had wet herself. She stared at the clothes in her hands, her legs clamped tightly together in an unnatural posture.
Soaking in the steaming hot bathtub, she submerged her mouth under the water, blowing bubbles as she let out a string of murmurs.
The president said he would find a chance to come talk to her later—they needed to have a serious conversation...
But how were they supposed to talk about something so hard to bring up?
And... Why did those scenes keep replaying in her head over and over again?
She really shouldn't have let her curiosity get the better of her and peeked through the closet crack several times after hearing those sounds...
But to have your legs lifted and pinned to your shoulders like that... wouldn't that be painful enough to faint?
And for the president to have them sit on his face like that... wouldn't he suffocate to death?
She had heard that some people were natural masochists who longed for violent treatment.
Was the president one of those people?
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50 advanced chapters on p@t re on (.) com/SenatusTheta
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