"Don't stare at me like that—Even I get embarrassed at times like this, you know!"
Yukima Azuma laughed, scratching his head as he took the knife and dessert plate from Kato Megumi's hands. He was smiling, a little sheepishly, but undeniably pleased. He sliced into the soft, celebratory cake and passed out neat pieces to each of the girls around him.
The room instantly burst into laughter, the warmth of the evening amplified by the sound of shared joy.
Megumi and Kasumigaoka Utaha returned to the kitchen, bringing out additional dishes that filled the table with color, aroma, and cheer. From grilled skewers to roasted vegetables, to shrimp tempura and simmered beef, the spread made it feel like a proper feast.
The dinner party was in full swing—lively and loud, yet strangely comforting.
Megumi returned to her seat beside Yukima Azuma, her expression unreadable for a moment. Then, when no one was paying attention, she leaned in close and subtly signaled Azuma to come closer.
He tilted his head toward her obligingly.
"This," she whispered softly into his ear, "Miyamizu-san helped with too. She asked me to pass along her congratulations."
"She couldn't sit down to eat with us, so… you have to eat her share as well, Azuma-san."
She pulled back, gave him a wink, and calmly picked up her chopsticks as if nothing had happened.
Azuma blinked, caught off guard by her words and her tone.
In his mind, an image suddenly flashed—a vivid red-orange kumihimo cord, quietly lying atop folded fabric, glowing like a thread connecting two distant souls.
He exhaled slowly, then smiled.
"…I'll do that," he said, and gently cut himself an extra slice of cake, setting it beside his plate.
A Lively Table of Friends
"Now that I think about it," Azuma said, turning to the blonde across the table, "Eriri, you really came all the way here yesterday just to make a cake?"
"Hehehe~ Azuma didn't notice at all, did he? My disguise was flawless!"
Eriri proudly puffed out her chest.
Utaha gave her a deadpan glance. "Hmph."
"Hey, what's that tone supposed to mean, you flat-chested ice witch?! You trying to start a fight?!"
"Oh, look," Utaha said coolly, picking up a tempura shrimp. "The brat is barking again."
The bickering started as it always did—sharp, ridiculous, and oddly endearing.
Azuma chuckled and turned to another guest. "Kirisu-sensei, you actually came all the way back just for this? I'm really touched."
"Umu," Kirisu Mafuyu nodded, sipping soup like an elegant judge at a Michelin-starred review. "As a teacher, I am obligated to congratulate my students when they accomplish something."
That earned a round of mock applause from the others.
"Oh, Azuma-san," Megumi said suddenly, poking through a kitchen bag she'd found, "What's this drink? I saw it tucked away in the corner."
"Oh, that? Plum wine. I brewed it myself," Azuma replied casually.
Yukino's eyes narrowed. "Azuma-kun… you're not of legal drinking age."
"It's really low alcohol content! Totally fine," he defended, lifting his hands in surrender.
"Nope. Alcohol is alcohol." Kirisu Mafuyu stood, walked over with the solemnity of a judge, and confiscated the bottle from Megumi's hands.
"Seriously?" Azuma groaned.
He didn't even like alcohol that much—he just enjoyed the mellow, lightly sweet flavor of this particular batch.
But Kirisu Mafuyu was a teacher, after all.
He had no grounds to argue.
Temptation in a Bottle
Kirisu Mafuyu glanced at the sealed bottle, curiosity winning out.
She carefully opened the cap and brought the mouth of the bottle closer to her nose.
The scent that met her wasn't harsh at all. There was no sharp sting of ethanol, no overwhelming bitterness—only the gentle, mellow aroma of ripe plums soaked in sugar and time.
She blinked.
Her throat moved in an unconscious swallow.
It smells… so good.
Considering Azuma's usual skill in cooking, the idea of him brewing plum wine only made the liquid more enticing.
Azuma raised an eyebrow, watching her reaction with a knowing smile.
"Kirisu-sensei, since it's already been confiscated by the teacher… drinking it counts as disposal, right?"
That gave her just enough cover.
"Umu… disposal it is!"
Without hesitation, she grabbed two tall glasses.
Among everyone present, only she and Yukinoshita Yukino were of legal drinking age. So, she poured two servings.
The plum wine rippled as it flowed into the glasses—clear, shimmering, and deeply fragrant. The soft scent of plums spread across the room.
"It smells amazing!" Eriri sniffed the air twice, then immediately extended her own glass like a kid reaching for dessert.
"Well… just a little," Mafuyu said reluctantly, already having taken a sip herself.
Soon enough, nearly everyone at the table except Hinatsuru Ai had a small portion.
The youngest of the group pouted.
Azuma ruffled her hair and handed her a cold bottle of orange juice instead. "Elementary school students drink this, not wine."
To Good Friends and Forbidden Drinks
Everyone raised their glasses.
Soft clinks echoed through the air.
They sipped.
Then—eyes widened.
"Wait… this is actually good!" Eriri blurted.
"It's… sweet, but not sugary," Megumi said with a surprised smile.
"It doesn't taste like alcohol at all," Ginko added, blinking.
All three girls who usually hated alcohol found themselves sipping with delight. Azuma's plum wine wasn't bitter or heavy—it was refreshingly smooth, with a gentle fruitiness that left a lingering sweetness.
Even Yukino, who rarely showed strong reactions, gave a small nod of approval.
As for Utaha, she simply raised her glass with a smirk and drank without comment. She'd shared drinks with Azuma before; she knew what to expect.
But the real surprise was Kirisu Mafuyu.
She sipped her wine, her cheeks gradually turning a soft, radiant pink.
Then—gulp—she downed the whole glass.
Azuma, mid-bite with his chopsticks, froze.
Wait a second…
Didn't her character setting in the original manga mention she had extremely low alcohol tolerance?
He looked again—her face was definitely flushing. Rosy. Heated. Eyes unfocused.
Still, she reached for the bottle.
Ah.
This was a problem.
One Glass Too Many
"Kirisu-sensei, that's enough. Maybe some juice instead?"
Azuma gently reached for the bottle.
But Kirisu Mafuyu pulled it close like a dragon guarding treasure. "Who says I'm done?! I want eighteen more glasses! I'm not drunk at all!"
She lunged toward him.
Wobbled.
Slurred.
And—
Collapsed.
Azuma caught her with a sigh.
"Yep. She's drunk."
The girls nodded, faces somewhere between concern and amusement.
"She's still a teacher," Yukino muttered. "We can't let her stumble around like this."
Azuma nodded, lifting Mafuyu into his arms as carefully as possible.
"I'll take her to her room."
Eriri tilted her head. "Need help?"
He raised an eyebrow. "You want to help carry your teacher who just demanded eighteen drinks?"
"…Good point."
The Path to Disaster
The second floor was quiet, dimly lit by soft ceiling lamps.
Azuma stopped in front of Kirisu Mafuyu's room. It hadn't been opened in weeks—not since she'd taken a temporary position at Shuchiin Academy.
He jiggled the doorknob.
Locked.
"Sensei? Where's your key?"
"Mmm… problematic student… too noisy…"
Clearly, she was still completely out.
With one arm still supporting her weight, Azuma carefully reached into her coat pocket to retrieve the keys.
"Mmnn… ah…"
Strange noises escaped her lips as he fished around awkwardly, trying not to think too hard about where his hand was.
Her body, flushed with wine, was soft—too soft. Her hair brushed against his chin. Her breath was warm against his collar.
Azuma's mouth twitched.
This is a test of willpower, isn't it?!
Eventually, he found the keyring and unlocked the door.
The Final Boss: Her Room
The door creaked open.
And Azuma immediately understood why Mafuyu never invited anyone in.
Books. Clothes. Snack wrappers. Graded papers. Manga. Scattered in massive piles. It looked like an academic tornado had made a direct hit.
There wasn't even a path to the bed.
Azuma turned to the woman in his arms.
He reached up, pinched her cheek lightly, and tugged.
"Mmmhhguu?!"
She groaned awake, eyes fluttering open.
Then saw the mess.
Half of her drunken haze evaporated in an instant.
Azuma stared at her, the corner of his mouth twitching.
"Well, dear esteemed Kirisu Mafuyu-sensei… care to explain why your room looks like a forbidden research dungeon?"
Her mouth opened.
Closed.
And for once, the ever-poised teacher had no answer.