Chapter 521: Whose Dream Comes First?

Chapter 521: Whose Dream Comes First?

“Sir, you’re drunk.”

She was quite wasted.

“I’m… not… drunk.”

The muddled older woman stubbornly denied it.

“Hmm… Since you’re not drunk, I’ll head back first. Get some rest early. Good night.”

Himekoji had done what he could and wanted to leave quickly.

Staying here kept making him nervous. To be clear—it wasn’t that he doubted his self-control; it was his teacher’s allure as a full-grown woman he couldn’t ignore. So… escape was the best plan!

“Be careful… Good night.”

She didn’t stop him. Drunk and drowsy, Hiratsuka Shizuka’s eyes drooped to sleepy slits as her body slumped deeper into the sofa. She just stayed half-reclined, looking ready to sleep.

Himekoji frowned. “Sensei, if you’re falling asleep, you should lie down in bed.”

Who would choose a sofa when a perfectly good bed was available?

His teacher didn’t respond with words. Instead, she kicked off her shoes, curled up comfortably on the sofa, and stayed put. Drunk and half-asleep, she didn’t care if it wasn’t a bed.

“Get up. Come on—let’s go to the bed!”

“Nope… I’m sleeping… here…”

When Himekoji tried to lift her, she resisted like a kid—shaking her head, whining playfully, and refusing to budge.

Zero trace left of her teacher persona after drinking. Helpless, Himekoji grabbed a blanket from her room, covered her up, and nudged her to shift position.

“Fine, fine. Sleep here then. But don’t lie on your stomach! Turn on your side!”

Drunk people shouldn’t lie flat or on their stomachs; they might vomit and choke while out cold. Side-sleeping was safer—a lesson Himekoji had learned taking care of Hiratsuka, the regular drinker.

“Ugh—”

The very thing he’d worried about happened. Himekoji had just thought she might puke. Now, it came right away.

“Wait, wait! I’ll get the trash can!”

Himekoji scrambled away frantically.

His teacher got up from the couch, face flushed red, hand clamped over her mouth. She stumbled step by step toward the bathroom. Himekoji rushed back clutching the trash can—just in time to see this. He tossed it aside and ran to guide her.

“Ugh—”

As his hands touched her shoulders, she threw up—violently. Vomit splashed all over her clothes and soaked half of Himekoji’s outfit.

No matter how good you looked—fresh and lovely, even—what came out stayed the same. Himekoji got a front-row reminder of that fact.

He sighed. Then he could only laugh at the mess.

Part of him was annoyed, but another part felt settled. Holding his teacher’s soft, warmed-up body now seemed natural. Strange, restless thoughts faded under covering of all this mess.

Patting her slim back, he helped her through the nausea. Once done, he guided her back to the couch, sat her down, and got her water. Then he hurried off to scrub the scene of the sick.

His teacher’s clothes were hopelessly soiled. With time pressing, Himekoji wrestled with himself—then took a deep breath and tugged off her top and trousers. He wrapped her hastily in a blanket.

Himekoji stripped off his own clothes too and tossed everything into the washer.

Finally came the mopping. Sweaty and exhausted, he finished up.

Back to check on Hiratsuka Shizuka. She lay sideways on the sofa, sleeping sweet and sound—like nothing ever happened.

Himekoji checked the time. All this had dragged past midnight. His own clothes were freshly cleaned but still wet. After thinking it over, he pulled out his phone and called home—said he’d stay at Tobe’s place tonight.

He feared that later she might wake up or get sick again. Staying meant he could look after her.

…

“Bro, you’re not lying?”

“Of course not.”

“Put Tobe on the phone then.”

“He’s asleep.”

“Wake him up!”

“What? No…”

“Seriously bro—you’re not fibbing?”

“Seriously!”

“Swear it!”

“Fine. I swear…”

Lying through his teeth, Himekoji managed to soothe his little sister. It’d been a long night—worn out and sleepy.

Since the teacher had claimed the sofa, why leave that plush post-modern fabric bed empty? After a satisfying shower, Himekoji happily claimed it as his own.

Soft pine frame, cloud-like cushioning—a few rolls around felt amazing. The sheets smelled just like Hiratsuka-sensei’s scent. Smiling, Himekoji sprawled out like a starfish and sank into deep sleep.

Immediately, the strange recurring dreams from recent nights started again.

Knowing it was a romantic dream right from his heart.

Only now the bed felt bigger.

They faced each other sideways—same as always—bare bodies open under the moonlight’s glow. The girl whose face stayed unclear seemed calmer than before, less shy, less like pretending to be dead.

“Are… you okay?”

This time, it was she who broke the silence.

“What do you mean?”

“About… what happened yesterday… with that kick. S-sorry.”

Himekoji couldn’t help chuckling:

“Nothing wrong. Isn’t this a dream?”

“Y-yeah… dream…”

A romantic one.

Realizing that, both their eyes flickered toward each other—locking gazes.

“…”

“…”

They fell silent at the same time—floating in awkward tension.

Who was she? Not Mashiro. Not his teacher. Himekoji had thought that after tonight’s events, his dream-girl would switch to one of them.

But no—it stayed her.

Did that mean his heart could hold many girls? Hold one in hand, eye another nearby—with stored grain sacks piled at his back?

Thoughts jumped to Mashiro. Then to Hiratsuka-shizuka. Then naturally—flashed to those kisses.

He licked his lips; his gaze grew warm. The dream-girl facing him seemed to sense that. She pulled back timidly. Her lovely figure shrank inward. Eyes darting shyly before fluttering shut like surrender—looking ready to be loved.

Himekoji couldn’t take much more. Mashiro and Sensei had teased him relentlessly in waking life—leaving him pent-up until now. This was his dream—no holding back!

He leaned his face in bit by bit. The girl stiffened nervously, pulling back—but not escaping his lips.

“Mmm…”

Her exhale came through her nose—soft, breathy, scented like flowers. It brushed Himekoji’s cheek—tingly and ticklish.

Focus centered on her lips. Even breathing seemed forgotten. Strange for a dream to feel so real. Only when breath ran short did he pull away—stirred but unwilling to stop.

The girl glared stubbornly—like nothing had happened—but her cheeks burned red.

“…”

“…”

“S-say something!”

“Eh?”

Himekoji snapped to.

“Um… T-thank you for the meal?”

“Pfft! Idiot!”

More shy than angry—her words masking embarrassment.

Adorable. Taking courage, Himekoji went plainspoken:

“Alright then… I want… a second round!”

“You! Total idiot!”

Now genuinely annoyed—she rolled her eyes. Seemed irritated by his bluntness.

Himekoji felt it was pretty straightforward and sincere actually…

Brazenly pursing his lips, he slid closer again. She gave the token resistance—a half-push away.

Okay… token-only…

Early dreams in the streak were hazy—just naked bodies tangled up. Now, things changed slightly.

How to explain?

Felt like freedom grew. From pure romance dreams to more complex scenes—awareness growing sharper each time. Now he chatted and teased like friends with this dream-girl.

She no longer felt imagined—just a desire fulfillment ghost. She felt…

Just felt like… a living girl.

“Oh, can you tell me—who are you?”

After another round of panting, he blurted out—suddenly curious.

…

…