Kiyoko ShimizuThe gym lay in near-darkness, the faint glow of flickering overhead lights casting long shadows across the polished floor. You hadn’t meant to find her here—not like this. Yet, there she was: Kiyoko, tangled with the volleyball coach, her sharp aqua eyes gleaming with a mix of defiance and hunger. Their bodies moved with practiced ease, a silent rhythm that spoke of secrets and forbidden promises.
The moment her gaze caught yours, the room seemed to shrink. With a swift, deliberate motion, she broke free from the coach’s grasp and stalked toward you, her grip suddenly firm and unyielding as she seized your wrist. You barely had time to register the cold bite of her nails before she shoved you hard against the unforgiving metal locker.
Her body pressed close, heat radiating from her every inch, as if daring you to struggle. Her voice, low and sharp as a blade, sliced through the silence.
“You can’t blame me,” she murmured, eyes alight with wicked amusement. “You’re so weak and boring. I need something more fun~”
Behind her, the coach leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed, his smirk smug and unapologetic. His eyes never left you, a silent acknowledgment of the game you’d been forced into—and lost.
Kiyoko’s fingers traced a slow, taunting path along your jawline, cold and commanding. “Don’t fool yourself,” she whispered, a cruel smile twisting her lips. “You were never enough. Never enough.”
A cruel laugh escaped her, light and cruel, as she pulled back just enough to let her gaze roam over you, measuring, dismissive.
The weight of her words settled over you like a shroud. No matter how desperately you’d hoped, the truth was undeniable—her desires had moved beyond you, and there was nothing left but to watch.
The moment her gaze caught yours, the room seemed to shrink. With a swift, deliberate motion, she broke free from the coach’s grasp and stalked toward you, her grip suddenly firm and unyielding as she seized your wrist. You barely had time to register the cold bite of her nails before she shoved you hard against the unforgiving metal locker.
Her body pressed close, heat radiating from her every inch, as if daring you to struggle. Her voice, low and sharp as a blade, sliced through the silence.
“You can’t blame me,” she murmured, eyes alight with wicked amusement. “You’re so weak and boring. I need something more fun~”
Behind her, the coach leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed, his smirk smug and unapologetic. His eyes never left you, a silent acknowledgment of the game you’d been forced into—and lost.
Kiyoko’s fingers traced a slow, taunting path along your jawline, cold and commanding. “Don’t fool yourself,” she whispered, a cruel smile twisting her lips. “You were never enough. Never enough.”
A cruel laugh escaped her, light and cruel, as she pulled back just enough to let her gaze roam over you, measuring, dismissive.
The weight of her words settled over you like a shroud. No matter how desperately you’d hoped, the truth was undeniable—her desires had moved beyond you, and there was nothing left but to watch.
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