Jade Feet

The long class bell echoed through the corridors, but for many students in Class D, it seemed to carry a little less urgency.

At the front of the classroom, the teacher explained complicated formulas, chalk rasping across the blackboard, while an indescribable, almost permissive mood hung over the students.

After all, Class Points had been stuck at a rusted-on zero for nearly three months.

For some students, it was like an invisible "get out of class free" card: It's been zero all along anyway. Who cares how I do in class? The thought took root in secret.

Still, not everyone in the classroom was slacking off.

Most of the students sat upright, eyes fixed on the blackboard or their textbooks, pens moving swiftly across their notebooks.

What drove them was no longer the ambition to compete for points, but a more immediate, practical rule of survival: pass the upcoming finals and avoid crossing the line that meant expulsion.

Even if the enticing monthly points had become nothing but a pipe dream, the school itself still offered abundant benefits—new, comfortable dorms, high-quality instruction, and waived tuition. For many students from ordinary families, it was already a rare kind of paradise.

In other words, as long as they avoided expulsion and stayed in this "paradise," the fact that their Class Points were already at zero did mean they could, to some extent... live a little more freely.

Hoshino Kanade, in the corner by the window, was one of those who took this "freedom" to heart.

Sunlight streamed through the clean glass and fell in bright patches across his open physics textbook.

But beneath it, he had hidden a thick history book borrowed from the library.

He propped his chin on one hand, occasionally turning a page with his fingertips. His lazy posture made it clear that his thoughts had long since drifted away from Ohm's law.

His seatmate behind him, Ayanokoji Kiyona, was the most enthusiastic accomplice in—and... instigator of—this "leisure."

Most of the time, it was more like Kiyona's personal "show."

Whenever she sensed Hoshino Kanade relaxing, she would flash a sly smile and sneak her slender fingers behind her, through the boy's slightly thin uniform shirt, to start mischief on that warm, flat "canvas."

Her fingertips would trace gentle, crooked hearts, or write out blunt, girlish lines like "I love Kanade most" and "Kanade is the best in the world."

Those cheesy yet candid declarations passed to him through touch, raising goosebumps across Hoshino Kanade's back. Yet the corners of his mouth lifted despite himself, and warmth spread through his heart. He might have found it embarrassing, but he really did enjoy it.

Sometimes Kiyona would switch things up.

She would quietly slip off her indoor shoes, then send her delicate feet, wrapped in pure white cotton socks, creeping beneath the desk.

Her dainty ankles had graceful lines, and her arches curved just right. Wrapped in soft socks, they seemed all the more alluring.

The tip of her sock would first brush tentatively against the outside of Hoshino Kanade's lower leg, a touch he could feel clearly even through his trousers.

It would retreat at once, like a teasing feather. The moment Hoshino Kanade glanced aside or his leg tensed in the slightest, the "instrument of mischief" would dart back like a startled rabbit.

Kiyona would then pretend to listen attentively, eyes fixed ahead, leaving only a faint, smug smile at the corner of her mouth.

After it happened several times, Hoshino Kanade kept a straight face, but silently counted her rhythm.

At last, when that restless foot brushed against him again with its familiar touch, Hoshino Kanade struck with reflexes far beyond those of an ordinary high school student! He caught her slender ankle in a firm grip!

Kiyona froze, drawing in a quiet, sharp breath. She tried to pull away, but the difference in strength—and the cramped space between the desk and chair, which made it difficult to brace herself—left her struggling in vain. Her ankle remained trapped in Hoshino Kanade's warm hand.

The hunt was on.

At first, Hoshino Kanade merely kneaded the sock-covered sole in his palm, gentle enough to feel like a mild punishment. It was supple yet bony beneath his touch, and through the thin cotton, he could clearly feel the tiny movements of her toes curling and stretching.

Seeing Kiyona force herself to stay calm, lips pressed together as she tried not to make a sound, Hoshino Kanade's eyes glinted with amusement.

Without a word, he increased the pressure slightly and shifted where he kneaded: the soft flesh of her sole? The hollow of her arch? The base of her toes? He quietly felt for the subtle changes in the muscles beneath his palm, the sudden tension that betrayed her, searching for the girl's "fatal weakness."

When his fingertip pressed lightly against a spot on the inside of her arch, Kiyona's body visibly shuddered. Her fingers clamped onto the edge of the desk, knuckles white, and her cheeks flushed as deeply as the evening sky.

Good. He'd found it.

Without hesitation, Hoshino Kanade began a focused "attack," rubbing circles over that sensitive patch with unmistakable pressure.

"Mm..." A broken whimper, suppressed to the limit, nearly escaped her throat before Kiyona bit it back.

The intense physical sensation, combined with the overwhelming embarrassment of being discovered in class, made her tremble all over.

She couldn't take it anymore. She twisted in her seat, trying to evade those merciless fingers, while her free hand urgently slapped Hoshino Kanade on the back, once, twice... each strike harder than the last, a wordless plea for mercy.

Hoshino Kanade had achieved his goal and didn't want to make her cry out.

So he stopped while he was ahead and let go.

Like a startled clam, Kiyona immediately pulled her foot back and hid it.

Hoshino Kanade instinctively drew back the hand that had been holding her ankle. His nostrils twitched as though he were catching a lingering scent. Hm? Clean and crisp, with a faint, delicate fragrance unique to her.

Uh... Hoshino Kanade stiffened, a flicker of self-doubt rising within him. Smelling his fingers? That was... kind of creepy, wasn't it? He gave an awkward cough and silently returned his hand to the desk.

But Kiyona's ability to adapt—or, rather, her talent for "asking for trouble"—was clearly beyond imagination.

A few minutes later, once she had calmed down, that familiar ticklish touch crept back onto the outside of Hoshino Kanade's lower leg!

"Tch. Hasn't learned her lesson..." Hoshino Kanade thought. This time, he didn't react at once. Instead, he pretended not to notice, staring straight at the blackboard as the white-socked foot rubbed against his leg, as though it really were a docile little cat. Sure enough, when he didn't respond, Kiyona grew bolder, her movements increasingly daring.

Now!

The instant Kiyona let her guard down again, her toes almost brushing his knee, Hoshino Kanade struck once more with the precision of a leopard!

This time, his target was clear. He gripped her ankle with one hand, while the other swiftly pinched the edge of her sock at the toes. Catching her off guard, he slipped off the smooth, faintly warm ankle sock in one swift motion and tucked it into his uniform pocket as casually as could be!