Teacher is going to teach you a lesson today!

Satou Sayuri emerged from her bath, wrapped herself in a blanket from the guest room, and returned to the living room.

The living room was brightly lit. Old photographs rested inside a cabinet, printed with colorful fairy tales. Satou Sayuri quietly gazed at everything around her, almost able to feel the breath of passing years lingering in the space.

Warm air drifted from the heat lamp, a very old-fashioned appliance that glowed bright red once plugged in. Such items were common in the countryside; her own family still used one back home, though she had never expected to encounter another in Tokyo.

Touching the clean, warm clothes on her body, Satou Sayuri looked toward the kitchen at Kitahara, a flicker of curiosity flashing deep within her eyes.

He actually knew how to cook...

"Dinner is ready."

The voice drifted from the kitchen as Kitahara untied his apron and brought out the fruits of his hour-long labor. "We didn't have many ingredients at home, so please make do with this."

Four dishes and one soup.

Sweet and sour spare ribs, salt and pepper prawns, coconut chicken, stir-fried napa cabbage... and a pot of tomato and egg drop soup.

The portions were small, served on delicate little plates.

You call this lacking ingredients?

Satou Sayuri mentally complained as she looked over the spread. Yet, under the warm lamplight illuminating his soft cheekbones, the gentle and handsome boy sitting right before her made her pause, momentarily staring at him in a daze.

"Not to your liking?"

"No..."

Satou Sayuri hurriedly shook her head, pulling out a pair of chopsticks. "I had no idea your culinary skills were so good..."

"Did you notice the sign at the entrance?" Kitahara pointed toward the front door. "That's a pub curtain. My grandfather ran an izakaya, so I've been practicing since I was a child. While my cooking might not be extraordinary, it's certainly never terrible."

"The skills of the Kitahara family won't die out with me."

Satou Sayuri nodded. He really did have the making of a good husband... At that thought, she couldn't help but slap herself lightly.

Why on earth was she suddenly starting to daydream?

Calming herself down, she decided to first ask Kitahara what he had been up to, why he had suddenly stopped coming to school, and whether he might have gotten mixed up in some illegal transactions...

Satou Sayuri coughed and opened her mouth to speak, but Kitahara cut her off. "I don't like talking while I eat, Sayuri. If you have something to say, wait until we're finished. Is that all right?"

"I'm your teacher, how can you call me Sayuri..." Satou Sayuri widened her eyes, a mixture of shyness and indignation in her voice. "If anyone heard that, wouldn't our relationship seem very strange?"

In Japan, given names were reserved for those close to one's heart, while honorifics were generally used for teachers or elders. Under normal circumstances, Kitahara addressing her this way was indeed highly inappropriate.

But nothing about the current situation was normal.

Kitahara said nothing, merely dishing out a bowl of rice for her. "Once we finish eating, I have things to discuss with you."

"What things?"

"Eat first."

His attitude was so uncompromising that Satou Sayuri closed her mouth and fell silent.

Actually, she generally disliked men being too overbearing because of her own poor temper and tendency to fly off the handle... yet Kitahara's attitude somehow made Satou Sayuri feel quite at ease.

Occasionally being treated with a bit of firmness was not entirely unacceptable, provided it wasn't overly aggressive—preferably the kind that only involved kissing her without taking off her clothes.

Satou Sayuri greatly enjoyed platonic affection.

With this thought, Satou Sayuri took a sip of the chicken soup. It was exceptionally savory and fresh, almost making her swallow her tongue. Her eyes lit up; with a weak stomach, her diet had been bland for years, which also resulted in a poor appetite. This was one of the rare things that managed to stimulate her desire to eat.

Kitahara's cooking was genuinely good...

After two sips of chicken soup, casting glances around and abandoning all restraint, she began to devour her food voraciously... halfway through, she accidentally touched a bit of wasabi, choking so hard that tears welled up in her eyes.

"Sorry, I'm used to adding wasabi." Seeing the tears streaming down her face, Kitahara silently pulled back the soy sauce dish.

Satou Sayuri didn't mind. She wiped away her tears, sniffed, and continued eating.

Before she knew it, the chicken soup and all four dishes were completely gone. Satou Sayuri patted her slightly protruding belly and let out a soft sigh of satisfaction.

Kitahara cleared away the bowls and chopsticks, sitting up straight.

Satou Sayuri hurriedly straightened up, supporting her stomach, and met his gaze, her face flushing slightly.

"What do you want to tell me?"

Kitahara pondered for a moment, looking at the female teacher who sat rigidly yet looked somewhat endearingly clumsy due to her full stomach. He slowly pulled several ten-thousand-yen bills from his pocket and pushed them across the table. "This is for the sweater."

"Huh?"

Satou Sayuri was momentarily stunned. "Why are you giving me money?"

"I don't want to take advantage of you."

Kitahara said softly, "The teacher is currently penniless, and even if I weren't, I wouldn't want your money. I've accepted the gift, but you should take the money back."

He had thought it over and ultimately couldn't bring himself to accept a gift bought with the female teacher's money.

Though Kitahara certainly wanted to extract some benefits from her, it didn't mean he lacked principles. Satou Sayuri probably had a stubborn streak; even when broke, she wouldn't borrow from others, choosing instead to live on plain buns and cold water.

And despite all that, she had still borrowed money from someone else to buy him a gift. Although Kitahara appeared to be a host in her eyes, he was not actually one, and he wasn't desperate for these few ten-thousands of yen...

Satou Sayuri remained silent for a moment, an unprovoked anger rising from the bottom of her heart. "Do you think I can't even afford to give a simple gift like this?"

"I just don't want to take advantage of you."

"Are you humiliating me!"

"I'm simply concerned about you."

The female teacher suddenly shouted, slamming her hand on the table and glaring coldly at Kitahara. "If I wanted your money, I wouldn't have come here in the first place, you jerk!"

"Whose dignity are you looking down on!"

Kitahara raised his chin to meet her gaze, seeing deep humiliation in the depths of Satou Sayuri's eyes. He was startled for a second, suddenly realizing that his approach might have been wrong.

Money could not define a person's state of being.

Though Satou Sayuri was indeed down on her luck right now, she still possessed her dignity, and Kitahara's gesture was undoubtedly a harsh slap to her face.

Satou Sayuri took a deep breath, her voice cold. "I have money."

"I have plenty of money! I don't need your hypocritical pity here!"

A flash of pain crossed Satou Sayuri's eyes. Without a word, she retrieved her wallet, threw the Fukuzawa Yukichi bills onto the table, and said coldly, "Are these enough? Are they enough!"

"I was just..."

"Shut up."

Satou Sayuri looked at Kitahara, feeling a pang of sorrow.

He seemed to view her the same way he viewed women from the outside world...

But what hurt even more was that he would rather accept money from other women than from her.

Why?

Was she inferior to the others?

Was her face less appealing than other women's?

Why could he accept their money with a clear conscience while resisting her at every turn—just because she was easy to bully?

Satou Sayuri bit her lip, her words tumbling out stammeringly: "Kitahara, isn't this what you do for a living?"

"Teacher..." Kitahara raised his head.

"Then serve me properly just once..."

Seeing the confusion revealed in the eyes of her white moonlight, Satou Sayuri's breathing grew slightly heavier.

The desire to ruin something pristine gradually spread deep within her heart.

"I have money..." she said in a raspy voice. "Can't you stay with me?"

Kitahara opened his mouth to speak, but a slender index finger pressed against his lips.

Satou Sayuri knelt half-way before him, the drooping fabric of her sleepwear revealing a expanse of fair skin.

Her gaze was hazy as she watched Kitahara swallow hard.

It doesn't matter...

After all, this is what he does anyway.

As long as I pay him.

Satou Sayuri flashed a bright, radiant smile, lowered her head, and whispered softly: "Come and kiss me."

"I'll teach you a physiology lesson tonight."