Kaoru had already reaped rewards equivalent to nearly a ten-pull from Horikita Suzune and Kushida Kikyo.
Now, Kiryūin would complete the final prize.
Noticing that she was unexpectedly cooperative, Kaoru seized the opportunity without hesitation, despite his lingering confusion.
Kiryuin had initially crossed her legs, her right foot effortlessly lifting just enough for Kaoru to slip off her shoe.
Now, only the silk-clad feet remained, devoid of any scent—as if he were holding a piece of warm jewels, its heat gently pulsing against his fingertips.
Not only were her delicate and slender calves encased in the stockings, but every inch of her thighs exuded an incredibly smooth and supple texture, without a trace of excess fat.
Her skin faintly revealed a wine-red hue beneath the sheer fabric.
The thin stockings were stretched taut, perfectly outlining the shape of her feet.
The skin of her instep peeked through, while her ankles glowed with a vivid rosy sheen.
Nestled within were several petite, pristine toes, neatly aligned as if waiting to be plucked.
It had to be said—Kiryuin legs had an excellent feel to them.
There was a sense of firm, athletic healthiness, unlike many girls who were simply soft and shapeless.
On the contrary, this kind of texture was even more enticing, making one want to play with them for a lifetime.
Kaoru lifted his gaze slightly, watching as the black stockings clung tightly to her thighs, trailing all the way up beneath her skirt.
A faint glimpse of her plump hip line was exposed due to her crossed legs, the stockings leading deeper into a mysterious space.
Kiryūin raised her leg, suddenly pulling her ankle from his grasp before lifting it high—as if the next moment, it would land squarely on Kaoru's face.
Yet, Kaoru didn't move an inch.
A flicker of hesitation flashed in Kiryūin eyes, followed by defiance.
She admitted that Kaoru's little game had piqued her interest, regardless of whether he truly wanted her to step on him or not.
The arrow was already nocked—she had to let it fly.
She wanted to see what Kaoru was really thinking.
Would he dodge? Or would he willingly accept it?
"Heh, for the sake of 700,000 Personal Points, I'll indulge my perverted junior's little fetish today."
With those words, Kiryūin stepped on Kaoru's face without hesitation—she was never one to be overly indecisive.
Since she couldn't figure it out, she simply stopped thinking and began enjoying the pleasure of tormenting Kaoru.
Because she held nothing back, Kaoru initially felt pain before quickly adapting to her pressure.
It was like a rough massage, every bit of it a sign of her excitement.
At the same time, Kaoru had a full view of the scenery beneath her fluttering skirt.
After all, she was still a beautiful young girl, just a year older.
Black lace.
A brief flicker of surprise passed through Kaoru's eyes, but upon second thought—if she dared to wear stockings like these, pairing them with such a design wasn't unexpected.
In fact, it made perfect sense.
"Why aren't you dodging?" Kiryūin found herself growing inexplicably excited.
"Is your fetish getting abused by girls?"
"Whether the one being tormented is me or you, it's all the same. What matters is how we feel—whether we're enjoying ourselves." Kaoru reached for Kiryūin feet, his fingers trailing from her ankle up to her calf—straight, slender, and perfect for a man's hands to savor.
With his movement, Kiryūin felt goosebumps rise all over her body.
This guy was absolutely a super pervert!
Still, she didn't regret it.
She was the one who decided to step on Kaoru—it wasn't like he forced her into it.
"You actually enjoy being trampled by girls? Mitoma, you're such a pervert. Does it really make you happy to be stepped on like this?" Kiryūin wiggled her feet, her tone turn cold.
"Why don't you try saying, 'Thank you very much for stepping on me'? That should excite you even more, right?"
As she spoke, she raised her leg again and stomped hard on Kaoru's forehead.
The force of her movement caused Kaoru to catch another glimpse beneath her skirt.
The girl's hips were remarkably full, yet her waist was slender and delicate.
Her long legs were sheathed in sheer stockings, faintly revealing the pale, tender skin beneath.
The stockings clung tightly to her skin, tracing an alluring silhouette that was impossible to look away from.
Because of this, Kaoru had never considered being trampled by a beautiful girl to be a shameful thing.
If anything, the one who should feel ashamed was the other party.
Kiryūin remained unaware of her wardrobe malfunction.
She was getting carried away—doing something like this in public was, for her, an act filled with thrill.
"What are you two doing?!"
At that moment, an enraged voice rang out from nearby. It sounded familiar.
Kaoru suddenly realized how compromising his position looked—his hands were gripping Kiryūin Fuka's calf while her foot remained planted on his face, as if he were desperately resisting her bullying.
"And who might you be?" Kiryūin asked irritably, clearly wanting to continue stepping on him.
However, the newcomer swiftly approached Kaoru, yanked him to his feet, and wrapped her arms around his.
The soft sensation of her touch immediately enveloped him.
"Bullying a classmate? The teachers said this warrants mandatory expulsion!"
"My, my, playing the hero, are we?" Kiryūin chuckled. "Do you have any proof that I was bullying Mitoma?"
"Are you seriously trying to deny it?"
Kaoru turned his head and was surprised to see Amikura Mako, her face filled with righteous indignation.
Why was she here?
He instinctively glanced around but didn't spot Ichinose Honami or the others.
Instead, Amikura Mako clung tightly to his arm.
"Mitoma-kun, don't be afraid! You have to stand up to people like her!"
Misinterpreting his hesitation as fear, Amikura cheered him on while glaring fiercely at Kiryūin Fuka.
In appearance alone, Kiryūin Fuka didn't resemble an ordinary girl at all—her aura was domineering and unconventional.
Combined with the earlier scene, Amikura had already mentally labeled her as a "delinquent" and "troublemaker."
"You know each other?" Kiryūin suddenly gave them a suggestive look.
"Rushing over in such a hurry—do you have feelings for Mitoma?"
Amikura's face flushed slightly.
She hadn't been thinking anything of the sort—the moment she saw Kaoru on his knees with Kiryūin stepping on him, her mind had gone blank.
By the time she regained her senses, she had already stormed over in a rage.
"What's it to you?" Amikura refused to back down.
"What's your name, and which class are you in?"
In many situations, calling someone out by name can create immense pressure—like a teacher spotting a truant student during patrol, or someone relentlessly pressuring you online to meet in person.
Even if they haven't done anything wrong, most people instinctively tense up, as if something terrible will happen the moment their name is spoken.
"Kiryuin from Class 2-B." Kiryūin showed no sign of fear.
If anything, she seemed faintly amused.
"An upperclassman?" Amikura Mako clearly froze for a moment before her expression turned icy again.
"Even if you're a senior, you can't bully a junior! Seniors should act like seniors—they ought to set an example!"
Japan is a society that places great emphasis on hierarchy.
Take, for example, the Takarazuka Revue, where juniors must promptly greet their seniors loudly and even bow in the direction their seniors leave.
Because of this, Tachibana Akane was always muttering about seniority, frequently scolding Kaoru for being rude—mainly because Kaoru showed her little respect and rarely used honorifics.
Though later on, it felt more like she was just looking for excuses to pick on him.
The fact that Amikura Mako could reprimand Kiryūin Fuka like this showed just how furious she was right now.
"My, my. So the day has come when I'm lectured by a junior. How unexpected."
Despite her words, Kiryūin Fuka didn't seem the least bit angry—if anything, she looked delighted.
"I don't know what conflict you have with Mitoma-kun, but you should apologize to him." Mako felt belittled, her tone growing sharper.
"As your senior, I'll offer you a piece of advice, dear junior. Before you understand the full story, it's best not to rush to take sides. You might regret it later." Kiryūin smiled faintly.
"Regardless, what you just did was too much!" Mako frowned.
Of course, she knew that logic, but when Kiryūin Fuka had literally stepped on Kaoru's face, what else was there to say?
Kaoru guiltily averted his gaze
. Thankfully, he no longer had a strong sense of shame—otherwise, every word from Mako would have been a knife, slicing open his chest.
"Mitoma, you're an interesting one. A bit of a pervert, sure, but you were right—I do feel better now." Kiryūin grinned slyly.
"Consider this your reward for today. I'll let your peeking slide for now."
Kaoru broke out in a cold sweat.
So she had noticed him looking!
Of course a girl would know exactly which movements might cause a wardrobe malfunction.
"Peeking?" Mako was stunned, a sinking feeling in her chest.
But Kiryūin slipped on her shoes, picked up her shopping bag, and stood from the bench, flashing Mako a smile.
"Seems you know nothing about his true nature. You're just ordinary classmates, right? If that's the case, why do you care so much?"
Mako watched her retreating figure, her thoughts in disarray.
Then she realized she was still clinging to Kaoru's arm and immediately let go.