The evening arrived, shower time in tow, and fear sank like lead in Imako's stomach. She watched through room eleven's open door the half naked bodies sauntering and looming in the hallway. Whether heading to or returning from the showers, most boys were clad in nothing but a white towel draped loosely on their hips. Imako curled her toes into the carpet, squeezed her very feminine knees together, and twisted her towel in her grip. Glancing at her shirtless and shower fresh roommate did nothing to calm her nerves.

As if the boy cared, Imako announced, "Too many in the showers! I should just wait until morning."

"There's a couple showers left at the end," their third roommate, Renji Yanagi stated, standing up with a towel folded in hand. He remained there, tall frame dwarfing the room, expecting Imako to follow.

Imako was no good under pressure. So many social anxieties were screaming in her head that they were indistinguishable. Either she denied Renji's invitation and created friction and suspicion with her roommates or she escaped the incredibly judgmental stare that Sanada was sending her way. There would be enough steam, right? Maybe she could feign nausea and pretend to go to the bathroom to vomit...but then they would report her to the nurse and any sort of physical from a physician would instantly give her away.

Maybe she should still vomit...

She had no time to think it through, so, beyond her better judgment, Imako's body began to move towards the data master of Rikkai Dai. Outside their door next to the large hallway windows were a few lingering and socializing camp members. Imako nodded to each of them politely, expressionless and wordless. Renji personally greeted a few of them, and Imako clung to his presence since he was the most familiar thing of the new, strange world.

She had to avert her gaze when they passed a gleaming and flexing Atobe of Hyotei; Imako never realized that boys found so much pride in their physique.

The showers' entrance materialized much too quickly. Imako gulped, momentarily forgot how to breathe. When Renji glanced back at her she realized that she had stopped moving, so she quickened her pace. With a very, very, very deep breath, Imako followed Renji into the steam and tile.

Hot water shot from the rows of showerheads on either side of the long room and swirled down drains at Imako feet. Soap suds clung to her toes and ankles as she slowly, painfully traversed.

The bodies she passed were exposed through the steam and she could not help but look, her curiosity getting the best of her. Of course, each young man was toned and muscular, not an inch of fat found on their developing bodies. Even considering their extreme athleticism, though, Imako had not expected to feel like she stepped into some sort of magazine full of professional models. Their bodies glistening under the lights were so new (alluring, even) and were impossible to ignore-

Except when she looked below their waists!

With haste Imako stepped in front of her roommate and led him to the very end, picking the last shower in the left corner. A short wall of tile separated each shower head, so there was at least that. But when she discovered how low she had to bend down to conceal her chest Imako realized the horror and the tragedy of her decision.

I made a mistake. Imako was truly feeling nauseous. I made a mistake!

There was certainly no way out of the situation when Atobe and his Hyotei lackeys entered the shower with laughs and shouts. She would certainly be called out if she made an attempt to leave.

Imako really could throw up. That would probably send everyone out of the room, would it not?

She shook her head. The more attention she garnered the worse. Renji was not even looking in her direction as he was talking to someone in the shower next to him, so maybe she could shower super fast! She could do this.

Imako nodded, steeled herself, and knelt down to undress. Facing Renji would expose her chest so she paused, turned around, and knelt down again. But then he would see her round booty! Disgruntled, Imako switched directions a few times before she conceded to facing away from him.

Go big or go home, the girl told herself repeatedly as she placed her hands on the hem of her shorts and pushed them down. Then, quickly, she removed her jersey, the tight undershirt concealing her chest, and finally her panties.

Oh my gosh, I'm naked, Imako heart was palpitating with so much strength that she was legitimately concerned that she would faint. I'm actually naked.

With all the speed she could muster, Imako switched on the faucet (scrunched up her face under the initially freezing stream), grabbed her washcloth and soap, and lathered herself with ferocity as she remained in a bent position. At least Renji was keeping everyone distracted with whatever nerd stuff he was talking about-

"See ya," Renji said as he waved to his anonymous conversation partner. Imako gasped, held her breath as he turned to face the wall and proceeded to undress.

Imako shifted to the side so she could keep an eye on him, covered her chest with one arm, and awkwardly shampooed her hair with the other hand. It was tempting simply to watch as Renji slipped his shirt over his head and revealed a strong back and steady shoulders. He exposed his front to her, chiseled muscles tightening as he bent down to remove his shorts—

She looked away and pouted. Warily, she glanced at each boy in the room and found, with relief, that most were fogged up by steam and all were distracted by loud talking and laughing and joking. Again, she tilted her head to Renji, whose eyes were closed, his head upturned to the hot water pouring down his back. Water trickled down his collarbone, each drop finding its way down his abs and lower—

"Idiot!" she whispered to herself, slapping two hands to her face. Ignoring the curious glance from Renji she quickly turned around and covered as much of herself with her soapy hair as she could: her thin waist, her feminine behind, and the other, very intimate curves that could give her away.

So she continued to bathe completely facing away from him, feeling hidden under water, hair and shampoo. As a modest girl Imako could barely undress in front of other girls; she could hardly believe that she was bathing surrounded by males!

"You really can't tell with the jersey on, can you?" Renji asked.

Body ice cold under steaming water, Imako's knees buckled together, but with sheer will she remained standing. The water pelted her skin and she was speechless.

He continued, "Atobe is much stronger than he looks."

A sigh of relief exhaled through her entire body and Imako pressed against the tile wall. "That's just because he's flexing. Duh."

"The jersey hides the thinness of your shoulders as well."

This guy! Imako covered her breasts with her arms and glued her back to the barrier separating her and Renji. Was he saying what she thought he was saying?

"Wearing a shirt tight enough so you would have no need for a bra was a very smart move."

"Yanagi-san!" Imako gasped in her female voice. She swiveled around and peeked up at him with begging eyes. "Don't tell, please!" Was her acting really that poor?

"Don't worry. I will not tell."

"Really?!" her body raised higher and she offered him a small truce smile. "But, why?"

Renji shrugged.

Imako did not trust his lax response, but she had no choice. "Promise?" Imako stood on her tiptoes, stared at him intently so as to dissuade him from lying.

He seemed to have trouble looking in her direction. Multiple times in those few seconds he attempted to maintain eye contact but each time he failed. He found solace under the hot water. "…Yes."

Imako held her hand out. "Pinky promise?"

"Yeah," he responded awkwardly, somewhat impatiently, and wrapped his pinky around hers.

Imako sighed, defeated. "I can't believe you figured me out already—" But then she noticed that Renji remained frozen. Imako frowned, confused until she noticed their closeness and how peculiar it was that she was so far from the ground.

Imako was still on tiptoe, and that was more than enough height for her small breasts to be exposed in the dissipating steam. They were round and a tad plump with little pink-

Imako slapped Renji's shoulder ashard as she could and forced the blame onto him. "Pervert!"

Renji appeared to be the type that was rarely caught off guard, so she still felt a little guilty for putting him in such a position. He silently muttered an apology, turned away and did not look at her again until they were both dressed.

"It was very obvious when you entered the shower room."

"Ssh!" Imako hushed Renji as she shut the door.

Sanada raised his stare from the book he was reading, indifferent.

"Should we tell Genichirou?" Renji thoughtfully joked.

"Tell me what?"

"Uhh..." Imako's voice shook. "Atobe was showing off his muscles in the shower…"

"And?" Sanada was irritated by the meaningless interruption.

"Um…" Imako braced herself for Renji's confession, but it never came.

Sanada returned to his book without sparing them another second.

Renji kicked back his bedsheets, innocently smiled. "Is that it, Usami-kun?"

"Yes!" Imako exclaimed, throwing a pillow at the culprit. She glared at the intelligent boy as hard as she could as he tossed the pillow back.

Something about her face made Renji chuckle. Imako glared harder, but he was nonchalant and lay down, hands behind his head.

Defeated, Imako sighed and eased into her bed, body sore with misery.

It was going to be a long two weeks.