Rikuto Suzuki is a second-year high school student with a secret hobby. He secretly listens to audio recordings of a mother punishing her daughter for breaking curfew—the sound of spanking and crying makes his heart race. He thinks he's weird but can't stop.
One day on his way home, Rikuto finds an old button in an alley. When he presses it, his childhood friend Hinata Minazuki suddenly appears and starts spanking their classmate Aoi Kiryu. Smack! Aoi screams, and Rikuto's mind goes blank. The
Bad Girls Get Punished - Compensation Slope's Button — I Picked It Up, and the Secret Began —
"...Huh?"
After school, on Daisho Slope. In the narrow alley leading behind Mikage Shrine, Suzuki Rikuto stopped in his tracks.
Something was glinting between the gaps in the stone paving. Reflecting the setting sun, it flashed—as if signaling to someone.
(What is that?)
Rikuto crouched down. Careful not to let the sleeves of his white dress shirt touch the stone paving, he extended his slender fingers. The cord of his earphones hung from the pocket of his navy cardigan, swaying just above the ground.
What he picked up was a metal button about three centimeters in diameter. It appeared to be made of brass, with patches of green patina here and there. It was surprisingly heavy. When he placed it on his palm, the cool sensation seemed to cling to his skin.
Something was carved into the surface. It was worn and hard to read, but when he strained his eyes...
"Punishment Enforcement...?"
The moment he muttered it, something warm ran down his spine. Not hot—rather, it felt like a gentle warmth spreading from within. A strangely comforting sensation, like soaking in a bath, enveloped his back for just an instant before vanishing.
Rikuto tilted his head.
(What was that just now?)
There was no one else on Daisho Slope in the evening. The Showa-era wooden houses lining both sides all had their shutters closed. This alley emptied of people the moment the sun began to set. The reason Rikuto passed through here every day was simply because it was a shortcut home. And also, because there were no prying eyes.
Rikuto stared at the button for a while. He thought about throwing it away. There was no point in picking up something so old and worn.
But he couldn't bring himself to discard it.
(...Well, whatever.)
He shoved it into his pocket. After walking a bit, the button made a small clinking sound against his thigh.
As he walked, Rikuto put his earphones back in. He tapped the screen of his smartphone. The video he'd been playing resumed.
'Hey, how many times do I have to tell you, you stupid girl!'
A woman's angry shout. A sharp smack. Then crack, crack—crisp popping sounds rang out again and again.
'I'm shoooooorry!'
A tearful apology. Sniffling.
Rikuto's expression barely changed. He walked calmly, looking down. Only his ears were focused entirely on the sound.
(This one today has good audio...)
That was what he thought in his mind. He didn't look at the screen. He didn't need to—just the sound told him everything. The breathing of the one doing the hitting, the crying of the one being hit, the faint silences in between.
This was Suzuki Rikuto's secret hobby.
He could never tell anyone. There was no way he could. A seventeen-year-old second-year high school student, night after night scouring spanking videos.
Rikuto was an inconspicuous student in his class. Soft black short hair, bangs falling naturally. His deep brown eyes were slightly downcast, giving him a rather quiet impression. 170 centimeters tall, with a slim, delicate build. He wore the plain school-designated uniform without any particular modifications.
He could talk to anyone well enough. But he had no one he could call a close friend. During breaks, he was usually reading alone or face-down on his desk.
(Why do I like this stuff, anyway?)
Rikuto had wondered many times. No answer ever came. For as long as he could remember, sounds and situations like these made his heart react. He knew he was strange. Because he knew, he absolutely never told anyone.
His low self-esteem was because of this secret.
If only he could honestly get absorbed in the things normal high school boys liked—idols, gravure, that sort of thing—how much easier would life be? Rikuto had thought that many times.
But he couldn't.
Before he knew it, he was searching for spanking videos. The sound of hitting, the crying, the words of apology. Those things gave him an indescribable feeling, like something tightening deep in his chest.
(I'm disgusting, aren't I. Really.)
He stopped the video. Rikuto walked silently on the road to the station.
That night.
Rikuto's home was in a corner of Aobagaoka Housing Complex. A newly developed residential area from the 1980s, a common two-story house. Rikuto's room was on the second floor, facing south. A bleak room with just a bed, a desk, and a bookshelf.
Ten at night. His parents were watching TV in the living room downstairs. His older brother lived alone near his university. The house was quiet.
Rikuto sat at his desk and booted up his computer. He pushed his earphones into his ears. The room lights were off. Only the glow of the screen illuminated his face pale blue.
He opened a video site. Into the search window, he typed the usual words.
(What's been uploaded today, I wonder.)
His heart beat a little faster. This moment was the most exciting part of his day. At the same time, it was also the time he hated most.
He picked a video. The thumbnail showed a woman who looked like a mother and a girl sitting formally on her knees. The title was "Punishment for Breaking Curfew."
He pressed play.
'What time do you think it is!'
An angry shout. Then a smack. The girl's scream.
Rikuto watched the screen intently. The movement of the hitter's hand, the sway of the skirt of the one being hit, the trembling of the girl's legs.
(Ah...)
The depths of his heart were being filled. At the same time, his self-loathing deepened more and more.
(I'm seriously messed up.)
Even so, he couldn't look away. The video ended in about five minutes. Rikuto exhaled deeply.
That was when it happened.
The girl on the screen—for just a moment—seemed to look at him.
No, it was his imagination. The video was recorded. There was no way she could look at him. But in that instant, their eyes had definitely met.
Deep in his chest, something pulsed violently.
At the same time, he noticed that the button on his desk had grown slightly warm.
"...Huh?"
He picked it up. Warm. It had been cold just moments ago.
(Am I imagining things?)
Rikuto rolled the button in his palm. The rough texture of the patina touched his fingers. He traced the carved letters with his thumb. Punishment Enforcement.
(I picked up something strange.)
But he didn't feel like throwing it away.
He fiddled with the button for a while, but eventually grew sleepy. He collapsed onto his bed and pulled the covers over his head.
(School again tomorrow. What a drag.)
With that thought, Rikuto closed his eyes.
The next morning.
Rikuto woke at his usual time and got ready as usual. White dress shirt, navy cardigan, black slacks. He lightly adjusted his bangs in front of the mirror. The small mole behind his right ear reflected in the mirror.
(I didn't get enough sleep.)
He'd had trouble falling asleep last night. The button, the video, the girl on the screen seeming to look at him.
He took the bus from Aobagaoka Housing Complex and transferred to the train at Tokoyogaoka Station. In front of the station was a station building called Tokoyo Terrace, a hangout spot for high school students. Rikuto didn't stop there and passed straight through the ticket gate.
On the train. Rikuto held onto the strap and gazed absently out the window. Tokoyogaoka City was a commuter town ninety minutes by train from the city center. Population 280,000. An ordinary regional city with no particular distinguishing features.
(...Huh?)
A familiar phrase reached his ears.
"Hey, did you hear? Morino-san broke curfew and got spanked by her mom."
A high school girl's voice. Standing diagonally behind Rikuto. A pair of them.
"Ehh, getting spanked when you're already in high school? Isn't that kinda messed up?"
"Morino's family is apparently really strict about that stuff. Break curfew and it's spanking, no questions asked."
"Uwaah, the worst. My mom says stuff like 'Kids in Tokoyogaoka get their bottoms properly spanked when they do bad things' too."
"Isn't that just how all the families around here are? Apparently there's some old rule or something."
Rikuto didn't move. He didn't turn his face either. He just gripped the strap tighter.
(Morino-san...)
Morino from his class. A quiet girl. She'd been spanked.
His heart was pounding, loudly.
(Stop it. Don't think weird things.)
He told himself that in his head. But he couldn't help imagining. Morino being scolded by her mother, crying, getting her bottom spanked...
(Damn.)
Rikuto closed his eyes. The train lurched.
When he arrived at the classroom, Morino was already there.
At her seat, talking about something with two female friends. They were probably trying to whisper, but he could hear them from his desk.
"It was the worst... Mom didn't hold back at all."
"How much did you get spanked?"
"I didn't count... She just kept smacking me over and over, and even when I cried and apologized she wouldn't forgive me..."
"Ehh, scary. Morino's family has always been like that, huh. I guess the old families in Tokoyogaoka are strict about discipline."
"I guess so... My grandma says 'bad kids getting their bottoms spanked is just common sense' too."
Rikuto set his bag on his desk and quietly sat down. Only his ears picked up the conversation on their own.
(Stop. Don't listen.)
But he heard it anyway. Morino's tearful voice. Talk of the sound when she was hit. The words "didn't hold back."
(Ah, damn...)
Rikuto slumped face-down on his desk. His heart was pounding so loud, his face was hot.
(My hobby and reality are overlapping.)
That was unbearably disgusting. The things in the videos and his classmate's actual experience were connecting. What he enjoyed in videos was happening in reality. Morino had really cried. It had really hurt.
(I'm the worst.)
Even when first period started, Rikuto couldn't lift his head.
Lunch break.
Rikuto was eating his bento at his seat in the corner of the classroom. Precisely speaking, he was pretending to eat. He had no appetite.
He put his hand in his pocket. The cold sensation of the button. He rolled it with his fingertips.
(Why did I pick this up, anyway.)
He gazed at the button for no particular reason. The brass surface. The worn letters. Punishment Enforcement.
(Punishment, huh.)
That was when a voice rose from the front of the classroom.
"I'm telling you, you said you'd do it!"
"Huh? I never said that!"
Two girls from the same class had started arguing over cleaning duty. One was a lively girl with short hair. The other was a quiet-looking girl with long hair.
"You said you'd switch with me last week, right?"
"I'm telling you I didn't. Don't just decide things on your own."
"Ahh, seriously, I don't get you at all!"
"That's my line!"
The surrounding students glanced over. No one stepped in to mediate. The two voices grew louder and louder.
Rikuto was gripping the button in his pocket.
(This is bad... Will a teacher come?)
The moment he thought that—
The button in his pocket suddenly grew hot.
"Hot...!"
Rikuto instinctively pulled his hand back. The button was too hot to hold.
The next instant, a dry sound echoed through the classroom.
Crack!
A sound like a burst—but somehow goofy, a strange sound.
"Kyaa!?"
"Ow!?"
The two who had been arguing simultaneously grabbed their bottoms and jumped. Both had their eyes wide open.
"W-what was that!?"
"My butt got hit!? By who!?"
The surroundings began to stir.
"Eh, what happened?"
"There was a sound, right? Like crack!"
"Both of them are holding their butts though..."
Rikuto couldn't move. In his pocket, the button was trembling. As if the heat from before had been a lie, it was cold again now. But it was definitely trembling.
(That just now... this button...?)
He could feel the blood draining from his face.
(I didn't press it. I didn't press it, and yet...)
The classroom door opened and the homeroom teacher rushed in.
"What's going on! What happened!"
"Teacher! Someone hit my butt!"
"Me too! There was a sound, and then suddenly my butt hurt!"
"What are you talki
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