Let's get something straight.
I didn't ask for this.
I didn't imagine it.
I didn't even accidentally think about it.
And yet…
There I was.
At the open-air hot spring.
Steam. Moonlight. A suspiciously full moon, even.
And a cursed sign that read:
"Mixed Bathing Time: Midnight to 12:30. For educational purposes."
That was written in Sensei's handwriting.
Let's rewind a bit.
Earlier that day, we went hiking.
Normal. Safe.
Except for the part where Aya slipped, grabbed my arm, and we both fell into a suspiciously soft patch of moss that smelled like strawberry shampoo.
Then Kokoro tripped over a rock and landed on me like a glitch in a dating sim collision system.
Then Natsuki-sensei leaned over during lunch and whispered, "I hope you like being the protagonist."
Which made me drop my onigiri straight into a puddle.
I never recovered.
Back at the inn, everyone received tiny folded notes.
Except me.
Kokoro unfolded hers and blinked.
"'Midnight. Hot spring. Come if you dare.'"
Aya read hers and raised a brow.
"Is this a prank?"
Natsuki-sensei read hers and just smiled.
I didn't get a note.
Because I didn't need one.
The curse… already knew.
So I stood there.
At 11:59 p.m.
Wearing a towel and shame.
Steam billowed like an omen.
I sat in the water.
Alone.
Until—
Plop.
Kokoro slid into the opposite corner like a cat testing bathwater.
She looked calm. Too calm.
"I have questions," she said.
"So do I."
"Was this your thought?"
"No!"
"You sure?"
"Yes!!"
"…Okay. Because I brought pepper spray just in case."
"Reasonable."
Plop.
Aya entered next.
Her towel was barely hanging on to physics.
She gave me a smile that could be classified as either teasing or emotional terrorism.
"Kazuki. You look tense."
"I'm bathing in anxiety."
"Classic."
She sank into the water beside me and sighed like we weren't in the middle of a curse-triggering nightmare.
Kokoro stared at her. "Why are you here?"
Aya shrugged. "Honestly? I was bored."
"Not suspicious at all," Kokoro muttered.
Plop.
Of course.
Of course.
Natsuki-sensei entered last.
In a towel that looked like it came with a legal disclaimer.
She sat down on a rock, legs crossed, hair up, and said:
"This is all perfectly educational. You're all growing."
"In trauma?!"
She smiled sweetly.
"Just don't think anything, Kazuki."
"WHY WOULD YOU EVEN SAY THAT?!"
I closed my eyes.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Don't think about towels. Don't think about closeness. Don't think about wet hair or steamy implications or slippery accidents.
Just think about rocks.
Again.
Solid, neutral, emotionally safe rocks.
Aya leaned over.
"Thinking about rocks again?"
"I HAVE TRUST ISSUES."
Kokoro leaned her head back and looked up at the moon.
"Is this what it's like to lose control of your own narrative?"
"Yes," I said.
"You get used to it," Aya added cheerfully.
"I don't want to be a route option," Kokoro muttered.
"Too late," Sensei chimed in.
"I REFUSE THE CALL TO ADVENTURE," Kokoro declared.
"Wrong genre," I said.
"Then I choose violence."
"That is this genre," Aya said helpfully.
We sat in silence.
Steam swirled around us.
My brain throbbed from effort.
Not from lewdness. From the sheer pressure of trying to not think lewdness.
Which, of course, made it worse.
Aya leaned back against the rock and hummed softly. "So peaceful…"
Natsuki-sensei looked at me. "You're doing well. No explosions. No towel malfunctions."
"Please don't jinx it."
Then Kokoro stood.
Her towel held. Barely.
She pointed to the sky and announced:
"I am removing myself from the plot."
And stepped out of the spring.
Aya clapped.
"Good luck with that."
When I got back to the room, there was a note on my pillow.
In Kokoro's handwriting.
"I'm sleeping on the roof. Do not follow. This is a tactical retreat."
I stared at the note.
Then at the ceiling.
Then at my cursed brain.
I whispered:
"Please stop becoming real, brain."
Somewhere outside, a voice echoed faintly:
"No."