Focus. Focus. Focus!

Mashiro Shiina slapped her face twice and locked her gaze to the manga she was currently working on. It was a complete mess, the hair lines jagged and squiggly since her hand couldn't stop shaking.

Ok. What does the script say to draw here...

She took a careful peek at the script to the right of the desk, taking extra precaution not to look at anything which might distract her.

But you've been working so hard. And the deadline isn't until next week. You have time.

No! No, it's not about that. Just get your work done, Mashiro!

I'm not going to think about it.

The hentai manga!


12 hours earlier...

"Oi. Shiina-san," Hina-senpai greeted with a yawn. "Ohayo gozaimasu."

"Ohayo, Hina-senpai," she curtly replied back.

"Here. I brought you something to get started."

She pulled out a paper bag from under the register and handed it to Shiina, her immediately noticing the weight and size of the bag.

"Three books. Each getting less vanilla as you progress, hm hmm," Hina-senpai said with a sense of pride. What could one be so proud of, some may ask?

"Hentai manga...," Shiina muttered.

"My my...the little bird's leaving the nest already...," she chirped, wiping a fake tear from her eye. "I'm proud of you! Shiina-chan!"

"Arigatou gozaimasu!," Shiina declared, giving a solid ninety-degree bow before heading off to school. She opened her school bag to put it in but...

Mashiro gasped at the lack of real estate her bag provided for the three books. Even though she had packed light beforehand, she simply didn't expect the books to be this thick.

"Gomen, but you'll have to pick it up in the morning. My shift ends before you finish school, and I'm not going to embarrass myself getting someone else to do it!"

Mashiro heard Hina-senpai's voice the night before.

Okay!

Looks like I'm starting operation: Get through school without showing anyone what's in this bag!


"What's that Mashiro?," Sorata asked as they were eating lunch on the rooftop.

"Books," she replied.

"Manga?," Aoyama asked.

"...yes."

Mashiro didn't want to lie to her friends. She hated lying.

"Can we-"

"N-No please!," Mashiro yelped, hugging the books like it was a newborn infant.

Sorata's eyes opened wide. His heart dropped at the realization. Taking one look at Aoyama and the brown paper bag:

"L-L-Let's not invade Shiina-san's privacy here, ok Aoyama!," Sorata stammered profusely.

"Mashiro."

"Huh? Alright then...," Aoyama said disappointingly, chomping on another piece of teriyaki. "...I mean if you two are getting so flustered over it..."

Both Sorata and Mashiro held their breaths as they looked down at their lunches (which Sorata had cooked for them, by the way), trying to look as normal as possible. Be normal. Place food in mouth. Chew and-

"...it's hentai isn't it."

...

"W-W-WHAT MAKES YOU SAY THAT MA'AM?," Sorata squeaked through clenched teeth.

M-Ma'am?!

"THAT'S IT! YOU'RE OFFICIALLY BANNED FROM MASHIRO DUTY!," Aoyama roared at Sorata. "Now Mashiro, there's no need to be ashamed. Just don't listen to that pervert over-...huh? Mashiro?"

Mashiro slammed shut the bathroom stall door and curled up into a ball on top of the toilet.

Is this what embarrassment feels like?!

AAHHHHHHHHH!

Mashiro stayed perfectly still for a few minutes, letting all the embarrassment exit through her breathing.

Stay perfectly calm. They haven't seen it yet, so I should be-

Mashiro realized she hasn't even read it yet herself. Feeling like the bathroom was vacant from the lack of noises, she pulled out the first book from the paper bag and looked at the cover.

"...Forbidden Love..?," she mumbled to herself.

It was of a tall, athletic boy barely kissing a girl with long, silky black hair. They both resembled what Sorata and Aoyama looked like when she brought up the 'forbidden topic' with them yesterday. All sweaty and hot and red. Kinda like how Mashiro was feeling right now. She pushed the manga critic part of her down for the moment, ignoring the somewhat bland art style and the complete misuse of colours, and turned the first page.


"Mashiro?," Aoyama called as she noticed the a pair of feet under the bathroom stall. "Is that you?"

Mashiro froze, almost dropping the manga she was engulfed in.

Erm...erm!

"No, I'm...ahh...Rinna. Rinna Kahiro...?," she said, projecting her voice as loud as she could while holding her nose. Looks like it worked.

"Ah..s-sorry for bothering you!"

Kahiro / Mashiro exhaled in relief, and started to read where she left off.

Ermm...let's see...oh my! S-S-So that's what i-it looks like...!

RRRIIIINNNNGGG!

Mashiro dropped the book in surprise and scrambled to pick it up, while the stall door swung open, revealing a very angry, worried and confused Aoyama.

"I knew you were in here, Mashiro!," Aoyama said, sighing with relief. "Come on, you're gonna be late for class!"

"Did you see it?"

"Don't worry about that now!"

"Did...did I do something wrong?"

Aoyama knelt down and patted her friend, who had her head bowed in shame and guilt.

"No way," Aoyama hushed. "There's nothing wrong with what you're doing, at least at our age."

Mashiro looked up and hugged Aoyama.

"Arigatou, Aoyama!"

"F-For what?," she thought. "Oh...Kanda-kun...! You are going to hear it from me...!"


What the... get rid of that...!

Mashiro embarrassingly control - z'd the drawing of the more memorable parts she saw in that manga, from her work. She must have drawn it subconsciously while she was daydreaming.

Stupid...stupid...

Head down, nose to the grindstone. Her hand was moving rather quickly tonight, in a rush to finish her chapter so that she can read the next two books.

Work...

Work...

I wonder if Sorata looks like that...

Mashiro turned a scarlet red, imagining the raven haired schoolgirl as her; in all those lewd positions.

"Srrreeeee!," Mashiro screeched in a pillow while kicking the desk repeatedly.

"What's wrong Mashiro?," Aoyama exclaimed from next door. "Do you need anything?"

"...hai...," Mashiro whispered, barely loud enough to travel through the wall.

She heard a few bumps and clanks here and there; Aoyama had just finished her homework and was practicing her script for a voice-acting audition.

"Is it about that manga?," she asked, walking in Mashiro's room with a mug of tea.

Mashiro nodded, her face buried in the pillow.

"My heart...it's throbbing. I-I can't stop rubbing my legs!," a muffled voice cried.

"Oh my...," Aoyama inhaled. This might be a challenge. "Right. As a roommate, a girl and a friend, looks like it's time I taught you about mastur..."

"What?," Mashiro said looking up.

"I...I said it's time you learnt about masturb..."

"I can't hear you?"

Aoyama was now as red as Mashiro, considering she hadn't even had this talk with her parents. It was something she discovered on her own, in the bathtub. But she had to, for Mashiro's sake!

"M-M-Masturbation!," Aoyama yelped, looking at the ground.

"Mastur...?"

"...bation. It's when you...you know..."

"I don't know Aoyama."

Aoyama sighed. This really was all too much for her. She was considering getting sensei or Misaki to talk to her. But sensei would be too crude, like a hammer smashing a delicate glass window, while Misaki...

"Ooooook Mashiron! Take off all your clothes and lie on the bed!"

Aoyama wobbled at the thought. Misaki would definitely break several laws in the process of giving Mashiro sex education. Speaking of which...

"Mashiro?," she asked.

"Hm?"

"Did you learn about this in school? You know, in England?"

Mashiro looked up and opened her jaw lazily.

"I was painting pictures."

She said it confidently, and without any shame or guilt whatsoever, as if everything else was irrelevant.

"...you do love painting huh...," Aoyama muttered. "But. You've got to learn to do other things too."

"I don't understand."

"Everything a normal, high school girl your age does! Like uhh..."

Aoyama felt a sense of hypocrisy, given she did sacrifice almost everything to pursue her dream of voice acting. She did however, remember all the fun stories her friends told her. Also she read slice-of-life manga in what was left of her free time.

"Going to the mall with your friends, and uhh...boys! Gossiping about boys!," she explained, not realizing she had deflected away from the topic of masturbation. "That's what girls our age do."

"You don't, Aoyama," Mashiro said flatly.

"Well, I-"

"Aoyama."

Mashiro looked her hazel eyed friend square in the eyes and leaned forward. Aoyama felt an uncommon sense of confidence radiating off her slender body.

"I...I want to learn about sex," she said, her nervousness somewhat replaced by confidence. "I want to be someone..."

Someone Sorata will be attracted to.

"What was that Mashiro?," Aoyama replied. "You whispered that last bit."

Mashiro looked down and stayed silent. Her head was buzzing with imagined futures; imagined possibilities with Sorata. She imagined herself growing into someone resembling your typical high-school girl, someone who could play and joke around with her boyfriend. It was all too cliche, but for the painting prodigy it was an unobtainable dream.

To not be lonely anymore.

"Anyway...ummm..."

Aoyama took a deep breath in.

"...take off your pants."

Mashiro, blushing and sweating profusely, tried to maintain a cool demeanor. She nodded and stood up, letting both her pants and underwear drop to the floor.

"W-We're both girls...so...is it okay if I look...?," Aoyama suggested while looking away.

Mashiro nodded. "It's okay Aoyama. You're my friend."

Aoyama turned her head to face the blonde and tried not to faint. Her eyes wandered down her half-naked body, until she saw her private area, laid bare for all to see. Mashiro noticed, covered it and looked away in embarrassment.

"B-But...this is embarrassing," Mashiro mumbled.

It's so hot down there.

"O-Ok then Mashiro...eto...I won't look for this part," Aoyama said, before pointing to the bed. "Now...go lay down on the bed..."

Mashiro complied, and laid down.

"Oh my...now, uh...what was I...? Oh right...take your dominant hand..."

Mashiro raised her right hand above her face, in front of the white ceiling she was looking at.

"And gently stroke your...private area..."

Aoyama covered her face with her hands while giving directions. This was possibly the most embarrassing thing she has done in her life. Who would have guessed that she would be spending her night teaching someone how to masturbate a metre away from them?

Mashiro began rubbing her legs unconsciously as she began touching her crotch. She felt her slender fingers move up and down her entrance, as if they were gently exploring it for the first time. Which was true, she had never before felt this strong of a sexual desire. At least, until she had moved to Sakurasou and met Sorata.

Sorata. She began thinking of the person whom she felt caused all of this. This stupid strong pot of emotions boiling over in her soul. She couldn't stop thinking of him when he was in his underwear that time, as she was straddling him and making him all embarrassed after asking him if he had ever had sex. That both made her smile, and all the more attracted to him.

Sorata...sorata...

"Did..did she just say Sorata...?," Aoyama muttered under her breath.

Aoyama slowly turned around, and saw Mashiro gently rubbing her crotch with half-lidded eyes and a salivating mouth. She felt her face blush intensely. She was watching a close friend pleasure herself, while thinking about another closer friend.

"...I mean...she said it's okay, right...?," she thought. "I...can...watch..."

Aoyama watched the foreign beauty twitch and shuffle in her bed. Mashiro began panting uncontrollably, her slender fingers moving in a circular direction while gripping the bed sheets for dear life. It was clear to Aoyama that she was thinking about Sorata.

Sorata...sorata...!

Her thoughts were incoherent, barely resembling memories or fantasies, but bursts of emotion and bright colours. It was as if all her frustration; her confusion was being poured out of her, into sweet moans and pants.

"Ahh...ahh...sorata...!," Mashiro moaned, not noticing, or rather, not caring that Aoyama was still in the room. Aoyama's hand had also moved instinctively down to her hot and moist private area as well, getting increasingly turned on by the blonde's body.

"This...this is wrong...," she thought shamefully as she began pleasuring herself. "S-She's my friend..."

Mashiro let out a sudden gasp as she felt her finger enter inside her.

"A really hot friend...," Aoyama added as she bit her lip, another hand caressing her breast.

She couldn't help but think of impure thoughts as she watched the blonde's perverted face. Even her ever-present tinge of jealousy, that there was another woman in love with Sorata, was replaced by something more sexual.

"...make that face with Sorata...," she muttered, drunk with lust. "...w-wait! What am I even..."

Mashiro began entering herself at a steady tempo, with two fingers, her other hand cupped over her mouth to avoid making loud noises. Her sweater was unzipped presumably from the body heat, leaving her sizeable breasts to fall out. Aoyama couldn't help but stare, and also began fingering herself, making lewd squelching noises.

The two began fingering themselves faster, savouring the pleasure, and letting all their worries by the wayside. The two had simply been too busy to explore their bodies once in a while. It was a well deserved reward for their efforts.

Mashiro felt her body tense up, and she clenched her teeth in an effort to suppress the noises from leaking out. Her legs began twitching rhythmically as she came, letting the waves of pleasure flow up her entire body.

"...hah...hah...my...," Mashiro panted, finally letting her body relax and slump down. "The...sheets..."

She looked down, and her sheets were stained from her fluids.

"Aoyama?," Mashiro said, realizing her presence. She tilted her head, and locked eyes with a very flustered Aoyama.

Out of embarrassment, she immediately placed her hands behind her back and looked away.

"Gah! Ah...ahmm...so...! H-How w-w-was i-it...?,' Aoyama stammered nervously.

"Aoyama," Mashiro said flatly. "You're masturbating?"

"N-No! I mean...well...yeah...b-b-but I couldn't!...I couldn't help it ya' know!," she explained timidly, her Kansai dialect flaring up.

Mashiro nodded.

"Hm hm. Are you finished...?"

"I-I-I don't...I gotta do a sleep now!," Aoyama deflected, standing up and straightening her clothes. "I mean...go to sleep! *Ahem. Goodnight, Mashiro."

She bowed for some reason, maybe because she felt like it was an honour to watch the princess-like girl deflower herself, and then skittered out of Mashiro's room.

That...was so...EMBARRASSING!

Mashiro buried her face in her pillow and flailed about.

SHE...SHE SAW MY PRIVATE AREA! SHE WAS TOUCHING HERSELF OH MY GOD...WAIT...DID I SERIOUSLY MOAN SORATA?! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU MASHIRO?!

Mashiro felt the need to do something; explain her feelings for Sorata to the one who just watched her masturbate, or at least go brush her teeth. But her body refused, stuck to the bed as if gravity were twice as strong. She was so tired. What was this feeling? This post-pleasure feeling? There was no one next to her. She had no one to cuddle.

Sorata.

She missed Sorata. She needed to cuddle Sorata. She felt too lonely.

And through sheer willpower, she rolled off her bed and stumbled her way downstairs.