"Just a little more, come on and satisfy me…"

You stepped into Yamamoto's room. Dropped your book bag to the floor, your pile of textbooks landing hard next to it. The impact was rough, and they toppled with a deafening crash, but you didn't hear it. In fact, you couldn't hear anything. There was a roar howling in your ears, one that blocked out all other sounds.

It wasn't just your hearing.

You couldn't see. You couldn't smell. You couldn't taste. You couldn't touch.

You couldn't feel.

Your entire body was numb.

The blood drumming through your veins had been replaced with something you couldn't name: white-hot, burning, pulsing. Fierce enough to make you shiver. Cold enough to make you crave more.

Whatever it was, you liked it.

And you were responding without thinking to its volition.

Your hands scrabbled to your Namimori blouse. You started working the top buttons, but after a second of you unable to undo them, you just cursed and ripped the thing up and over your head. It crumpled to the floor. Fluttered to a landing near the bed.

"What am I doing?" you murmured. You had come to a stop in front of the mirror, and you stared at it while you shimmied out of your skirt. "What is wrong with me?"

The baseball game was in three hours. Masao had invited you, and you'd agreed to go. The opponent was rumored to be tough. It was going to be a good game. Any normal girlfriend in the world would've been excited—after all, it was a date.

Yamamoto had been openly flirting with Suzuki. And it wasn't just regular flirting. Girls like Suzuki didn't keep it to low-keep flirting, no; it advanced to seemingly-casual touches on the arm, a whisper against his jaw, a brush of her nose to his shoulder, a sliding of her finger down his well-toned chest…

"Fuck!" A strange gasp, ripped from your chest. Inhuman.

And then you were naked, striding into the adjacent bathroom with a purpose you could not fathom. Your body sang its approval as you twisted the faucet on, and the water spurted forth from the showerhead. The roar in your ears lessened for a moment, then came back stronger than before.

You clamped your hands over your ears. "Stop it," you hissed. "Stop!" When it continued, you rocked back and forth. "I can't take it! Shut up!"

What is wrong with me?

Thousands of little sounds mixed with the constant roaring. The water endlessly struck the smooth marble floor. You could see steam tendrils beginning to rise, but you didn't bother reaching in to adjust the temperature.

It wasn't touching anymore, no; Suzuki kissed him in the hallways, afterschool, when she had thought everyone else was gone.

Not once did Yamamoto pull away.

They only paused sucking face long enough for air, and he had been smiling that damn smile of his when they did break contact.

You had seen it all.

You weren't supposed to, of course, but you had. Oh, you had.

At first, the water was blisteringly hot against the skin of your back. You grew accustomed to it almost immediately. With a sigh, you gathered all of your hair into one hand and tossed your head back, drenching your face.

What you wouldn't give to take it all back.

Everything—from the boyfriend to the bruises, the bottle and the birth.

You wished it had never happened.

Your body had long since shut down. You were spiraling downward into vertigo. Or was it upward? Not sure.

The water felt so good, so pleasant…

"Mmm…"

Eyes closed, you pulled your hand over your face. Down your neck. Over your breasts.

Your hand lingered for a moment. What would it feel like to touch them? Only this once, you told yourself, only this once would you allow it. And so you did.

"A-ah…"

You tweaked with them for a few seconds before forcing yourself to stop, to pull away.

Your hand continued to descend.

Over the flat of your stomach, your hips. Your waist.

Here, it stopped again.

Your breath was coming out in short, sharp bursts. It was hard to get enough oxygen into your lungs now. Steam from the marble underneath you enveloped the entire bathroom, to the point where you couldn't really make out anything more than the sink's distinct outline.

He had betrayed you. He'd kissed that slut.

But you had done the same thing to him, with Masao.

—what did it matter, anyway? It wasn't like Yamamoto owned you. He had no fucking say in your love life. He wasn't your father, your brother. He was just Yamamoto. He didn't even love you.

Is that right?

Your hand hovered above your womanhood.

This wasn't right. This was absolutely crazy. You must've been losing your mind to even consider such a thing—

You slipped one finger inside of your warmth, and plunged.

The sensation was foreign. And painful. You had never experience anything like it, and somehow it felt raw. A wordless cry tore itself from your throat.

The initial spark of pain slowly dissolved, tingling down your spine and bones, trickling into every nook and cranny of your body. You had your eyes squeezed shut, and you stood with your forehead pressed to the cool glass. Stray water drops clung to the surface.

Behind you, the showerhead continued pouring out water, and it thrummed against your back. Heat seeped into your body, manifesting into pure warmth.

You were falling…

And it was ecstasy.

Your finger began to move. You rubbed it against your sex, loving the way your body reacted. As you pushed your digit in even further, your stomach tightened, and an invisible coil contracted ever so slowly.

Mewls escaped your mouth, soft and breathy. "Nnngh…mmm, yes…"

You inserted another finger, and the pleasure doubled.

"…a-ah! Ah…!"

It was a good thing no one was at home yet. Tsuyoshi was out delivering take-out, and Yamamoto…who knew where he was. Baseball practice, maybe. Or he was more likely at the student council meeting, with Suzuki hanging on one arm…

That coil wound even tighter as your fingers picked up speed. All of your thoughts disappeared as your body took over control, and you rolled your hips against in your hand in time to the rhythm you had set for yourself.

You were panting heavily, and you were loving it.

"Y-Yama-kun…"

Your eyes snapped open. What? What the hell was that?

Why his name, out of all the possible…

"Yama-kun," you said again, and a long moan left you. Your head was spinning. Your legs were shaking. Your hips moved even faster. The fingers, even deeper.

You were so close…

No.

So fucking close…

NO.

"Takeshi!" you sobbed. "Oh, God~ Shit, T-Takeshi!"

His name wasn't just a shout of pleasure.

You felt no pleasure as you came all over your own hand, and even then, you didn't have time to think about it. To think about what you had just done.

Tears streamed from your eyes, mingled with the water already on your face. You sank onto your haunches and tried to stop yourself from weeping, but it wasn't working, and your fingers were still thrusting into your heat, and your hips were shy from bucking again—

You were a mess.

A complete mess.

The day you said yes to Masao, you shattered.

And now you had no clue how to pick all of your pieces back up.