Chapter 45

He reached out to stroke her flushed cheek, his thumb gently rubbing against her soft skin: "You were always meant to be like this."

This sentence seemed to break some kind of taboo; Kubo Takako suddenly leaned forward, pressing her warm lips heavily against his.

This kiss carried the intensity of whiskey, the longing suppressed for far too long, and a cautious, tentative exploration.

Kageyama Sora was stunned for a moment, then reached out to wrap his arms around her waist, pulling her tighter against him to return the passionate kiss.

Inside the private booth, their shadows intertwined and tangled on the wall; as their breathing grew heavier, the sound of their heartbeats became increasingly clear in the silence.

An ambiguous atmosphere swirled in the air, and they drowned in the kiss, forgetting the world outside, forgetting the gap in status and age, remembering only the temperature and the fluttering of their lips and teeth at this moment.

It must be said that human emotions can often transcend many things.

For instance, Kageyama Sora never imagined in his life that he would be in a bar, lost in a kiss with Fukuji Mihoko's coach.

Kubo Takako's nails sank slightly into the shirt on Kageyama Sora's back, the rustling sound of fabric rubbing together mixing with rapid breathing, exploding within the confined booth.

Kageyama Sora pushed her back against the velvet wall, the warm light of the desk lamp sweeping across her reddened eye corners, her eyelashes shedding fine golden light as they fluttered.

She unbuttoned his collar, the soft sound of metal hitting the floor making them both tremble, only to be swallowed by an even deeper kiss.

"Wait..." Kageyama Sora panted, turning his head to dodge, his Adam's apple brushing against her moist lips.

Kubo Takako bit his jaw, her fingertips tracing down his waistline, tracing the hollow curve of his waist through the fabric.

"Stopping now?" She chuckled, her voice wrapped in an inseparable **: "Too late. You didn't think a big sister would let you off the hook, did you?"

The air in the booth grew increasingly scorching, the scent of sandalwood steamed into something else by the **.

Kageyama Sora's attempt to loosen his tie was interrupted when she grabbed his wrists; Kubo Takako used the leverage to flip over and pin him to the sofa, her black suit jacket sliding off her shoulders to reveal a winding silver tattoo on her collarbone—one she had gotten back when she was a delinquent.

Of course, Kubo Takako would never admit to having been a delinquent, just thinking of it as a unique rebellious phase of her own.

She sat astride his lap, her blonde hair falling like a private curtain as she leaned down, her lips brushing his burning earlobe: "Want to try and see what the difference is between a grown-up big sister and those little girls!??"

What a bold statement; hearing it made Kageyama Sora feel his blood rushing to his head.

Without waiting for an answer, she had already bitten his Adam's apple, the flick of her tongue making Kageyama Sora tighten his arms abruptly.

The leather of the sofa emitted a faint friction sound, and he reached back to pull at the hem of her shirt; when his cool fingertips touched her lower back, Kubo Takako shivered violently, the force of her bite on his shoulder suddenly intensifying.

The taste of blood spread between their teeth, yet it only made their movements increasingly frantic.

Truly a crazy act, but one that made the blood surge and the head spin.

Kageyama Sora flipped her over, pressing her into the crevice of the sofa, his tie having somehow wound around her wrists.

Kubo Takako tilted her neck back, thin sweat pooling in the hollow of her collarbone, shimmering with a pearl-like luster in the light and shadow.

"Untie it." She shook her bound wrists, her eyes filled with a contradiction of provocation and desire: "Or are you afraid?"

This sentence completely ignited Kageyama Sora's reason.

His movement to pull at the tie made the desk lamp sway, the light and shadow twisting and deforming over their entangled bodies.

Kubo Takako's high heels had been kicked off somewhere, her bare feet hooking around his calves, her nails leaving faint scratches on the back of his neck.

When Kageyama Sora's lips landed on her chest, she arched her back sharply, reaching out to mess up his hair, a suppressed sound spilling from her throat.

Suddenly, the sound of a waiter pushing a cart passed outside the booth; the noise of the metal rollers made them both freeze.

Kubo Takako bit her lower lip, her moist eyes looking at the face inches away, her rapid breathing spraying onto Kageyama Sora's face. He reached out to cover her mouth, while his other hand stroked her waist, feeling her tremble violently under his palm as his fingertips brushed the edge of her underwear.

"Shh..." He chuckled against her ear, his warm breath making Kubo Takako go limp all over.

When the footsteps outside finally faded away, the moment their eyes met, they sank once more into the vortex of losing control.

The sound of clothing rubbing, rapid panting, and ambiguous murmurs wove into a net of ** in the booth, wrapping them completely within it, leaving no way back.

Chapter 101 Extra: if Route Kubo Takako (Part 2)

The footsteps outside the booth were like a sword of Damocles hanging over their heads, the sound of rollers crushing the floorboards drawing closer.

The halo of the desk lamp flickered in the swaying, cutting their overlapping shadows into fragmented light spots, casting distorted ripples on the velvet wall.

The air was so thick with inseparable ambiguity that it could be wrung out, mixed with the scent of sandalwood and hormones, every breath carrying a scorching tremor.

It was only natural to be nervous; after all, they hadn't paid, and no one knew there was anyone in the booth.

Kubo Takako's nails dug deep into Kageyama Sora's shoulders, the muscles beneath her fingertips tensing into hard stone.

Her tilted neck exposed delicate veins that throbbed with her rapid heartbeat, her warm breath hitting his ear: "Don't make a sound..."

Before the words had even faded, the crisp sound of a metal cart colliding echoed in the hallway, startling her into a shiver, her legs instinctively tightening to wrap around his waist.

Kageyama Sora's palm covered her mouth tightly, his palm feeling her rapid breathing, the damp heat burning his skin through his fingers.

His nose was buried in her sweat-dampened blonde hair, the scent of mint mixed with whiskey rushing to his brain, yet he had to restrain himself on the verge of his sanity collapsing.

The curves of the woman beneath him, tensed from nervousness, outlined a fatal temptation in the light and shadow, her shirt's half-slipped strap hanging precariously, almost igniting his final shred of self-control.

"Click—" The footsteps paused briefly outside the booth, and the sound of the door lock being tested made them both hold their breath.

Kubo Takako's pupils contracted sharply, her eyelashes sweeping across the back of Kageyama Sora's hand, a silent plea mixed with ** surging in the depths of her eyes.

As expected, no matter how bold she was, hearing someone coming would still make her nervous.

His Adam's apple bobbed as he pressed her trembling body deeper into the sofa, his fingertips tracing the hollow curve of her waist—a gesture that was as much a soothing caress as it was a silent threat: whoever made a sound first would lose this game of desire.

When the footsteps finally faded into the distance, the stifling air seemed to pop like a punctured balloon, and both of them erupted into heavy, ragged gasps.

Just when Kageyama Sora thought the unexpected encounter was about to end prematurely.

Kubo Takako took the initiative to pull off the tie binding her wrists, reaching back to hook her arms around Kageyama Sora's neck and pull him closer.

The desire surging in her eyes was mingled with intoxication; when she bit down on his lips, it was with a near-savage demand, and the moment her tongue probed inside, a low, hoarse groan spilled from Kageyama Sora's throat.

The edge of the sofa dug painfully into the small of Kubo Takako's back, but the heat of Kageyama Sora's palm covering her skin made her forget the pain.

His fingertips traced upward along her spine, and the precision with which he unhooked her bra made her breath hitch.

The moment the fabric slipped away, the ambiguous light in the private room immediately wrapped around her pale skin, flowing like a river of honey over her undulating curves.

"So you were already..." she panted, wanting to tease him, but the tail end of her sentence was crushed into broken, airy gasps as he took her collarbone into his mouth.

Kageyama Sora's kisses spread downward along her neck, leaving a trail of fine, dense tooth marks in their wake.

When his lips covered the cinnabar mole on her chest, Kubo Takako grabbed his hair tightly, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist; her bare feet, having long since kicked her high heels somewhere unknown, were now restlessly rubbing against his tensed calves.

"Don't..." She wanted to tell him not to be too rough, but the moment his tongue flickered, she swallowed all her words, turning them into a suppressed whimper.

The air in the private room was so thick it felt as though it could be wrung out like water; under the swaying halo of the desk lamp, their entangled figures cast distorted silhouettes against the wall.

Kubo Takako fumbled to undo the remaining buttons of Kageyama Sora's shirt, and as her fingertips brushed his solid abdominal muscles, she felt his body tremble noticeably.

She seized the chance to take control, her blonde hair falling like a waterfall to shroud their intertwined faces.

"Now, it's my turn."

The sound of clothing being tossed haphazardly to the floor followed one after another, mixed with the soft tearing of fabric.

The silver tattoo on Kubo Takako's collarbone flickered in and out of view with her movements, as if mocking her now-shattered reason.

As she leaned down, her hair swept across Kageyama Sora's chest, the itchiness mingling with the ** surging deep into his heart.

When her lips closed over his Adam's apple and her hands wandered down his waistline, Kageyama Sora finally lost his last shred of self-control, flipping her over to pin her back into the sofa with a force that made the entire piece of furniture groan under the strain.

"Still want to play?" Kageyama Sora's hoarse voice was laced with the darkness of **, his hands pinning her wrists above her head as his burning gaze swept over her flushed cheeks, slightly swollen lips, and neck covered in hickeys.

Kubo Takako refused to be outdone, arching her back and pressing her knee against his inner thigh, the provocative light in her eyes veiled by a mist of **: "If you've got the guts, don't stop."

This sentence ignited the final fuse.

Kageyama Sora lowered his head to bite her lower lip, his tongue prying open her teeth to plunder wantonly, while his hand already reached between their pressed bodies.

Kubo Takako tensed for a moment, then softened under his soothing kisses, her nails digging deep into his back as the sounds from her throat grew increasingly high-pitched, echoing through the small room and composing a blush-inducing symphony alongside the friction of clothes and the wet, sticky sound of skin against skin.

The tie twisted like a serpent between their fingers, the cold touch of leather seeping into their palms.

The light from the desk lamp suddenly shattered into a thousand stars, and the tattoo on Kubo Takako's collarbone began to writhe.

Kageyama Sora heard the sound of his own swallowing, like a torrential downpour hitting a parched riverbed.

Penetration.

Blood.

Kageyama Sora was somewhat surprised; he hadn't expected Kubo Takako to still be such a... pure woman.

Yet her wildness and madness were beyond his expectations, and the suddenness of it had caused her some pain.

But fortunately, he still had time to make it up to her.

"Don't stop..."

In the midst of their intense battle, her voice drifted from far away, yet it felt as if it had exploded right beside his ear.

The moment the shirt buttons popped off, time was torn in two.

The rough sensation of the velvet wall against his back formed an absurd contrast with the softness of her lips and tongue.

Kageyama Sora felt himself falling into a scalding mist, all his senses infinitely magnified: the sandalwood scent suddenly became pungent, mixed with the sweet, fishy smell of rain lingering in her hair; the sound of fabric tearing was like a thunderclap, yet it couldn't drown out their intertwined heartbeats; and the stinging pain of her nails raking across his spine became a signpost leading to paradise.

The private room became the center of the universe, and the desk lamp was the only sun.

They wandered repeatedly along the boundary between light and shadow, every connection feeling like the filling of a missing piece in each other's lives.

Kubo Takako's voice, mixed with the lingering notes of whiskey, condensed into tangible desire in the air.

Kageyama Sora looked into her eyes, where there was a storm, an ocean, and a fragility and madness he had never seen before.

When that moment surged like a tide, Kageyama Sora felt himself dissolve into countless tiny specks of dust, drifting in the warm air of the private room.

All restraint, struggle, and hesitation vanished into thin air at this very moment.

Chapter 102: A Perfect Game

When there are many data-driven players, a match becomes... boring for the audience.

Because most of it is just defense, defense, and more defense, which makes winning difficult, and there are no flashy winning hands or comeback counterattacks to be seen.

However... following yet another winning hand from Haramura Nodoka.

The commentator's words were like a pebble, casting ripples across the seemingly calm water.

[Currently, Haramura Nodoka of Kiyosumi High School is at the top of the leaderboard, and aside from her, no one else has even won a hand yet; it is very close to a perfect game.]

[The final round of the first half begins. Can Haramura Nodoka achieve a perfect game!]

Indeed, even if it is said that data-driven players don't have such dramatic ups and downs in their playstyle, their strength lies in their defense.

However... such a perfect game still makes people feel excited, and everyone is talking about whether Haramura Nodoka can sustain this miracle.

As Haramura Nodoka strokes her penguin to cheer herself on, Ryumonbuchi Toka's inner thoughts go haywire once again: Perfect, or whatever—that kind of thing, that kind of thing, how can it be so easy for Haramura Nodoka? This joke has gone on long enough.

Although these are just her inner thoughts, anyone slightly familiar with her knows that at this moment, Ryumonbuchi Toka has begun a near-manic mental storm.

Sitting in the Ryumonbuchi High School lounge, Kageyama Sora, who has been holding Amae Koromo in his arms for who knows how long, looks thoughtful: "Is Toka too focused on... Haramura Nodoka? All her attention has been snatched away by the other side."

He adjusted the way he addressed her slightly to avoid provoking public anger—though Kageyama Sora knew everyone wouldn't be that petty, he still chose to be cautious.

Kunihiro Hajime gives a dry laugh: "That can't be helped; Toka is like that sometimes."

The match outside continues.

Ryumonbuchi Toka chooses to reach tenpai without declaring riichi or any additional options, adopting an attitude that as long as she can win quickly, she can break the perfect game.

Regarding this, Inoue Jun also turns serious: "Right now, everyone's attention is on Haramura Nodoka, as if it's her personal show."

Kunihiro Hajime's attitude toward this is also calm, without a hint of resentment or anything of the sort: "A perfect game is what everyone expects, after all."

Inoue Jun scoffs, looking at Kageyama Sora with a teasing tone: "Heh, the type of girl boys like is someone like Haramura Nodoka, right?"

And Kunihiro Hajime immediately shifts her gaze to Kageyama Sora: "Is that so!"

Even Amae Koromo, who is acting as a body pillow for Kageyama Sora, pouts and asks: "Is that so!?"

Faced with the interrogation from everyone, Kageyama Sora wants to brush it off, but he finds himself unable to tell a lie, so he can only say dryly: "...Yes, I suppose so!?"

Amae Koromo instantly narrows her eyes, hugging her knees, looking like she can't be coaxed: "Koromo is angry, the kind that can't be coaxed."

Kageyama Sora can only bite the bullet and try to coax her: "Koromo is the cutest..."

But Amae Koromo is hard to coax this time: "Sora just likes those big ones! It must be, definitely!"

Of course, what happens in the lounge is just a small interlude, and the match continues.