Ten days had passed since she transferred in. The morning bell of the chapel finished ringing, and silence returned to the classroom. It was just after morning homeroom. Sakamoto Eri stood in front of her desk, unable to move. On top of her desk—a single small spare key to the gym storage shed had been placed there. No note, no signature, not even a threatening message. Just the cold lump of metal existed there as an instruction for her. (Ah—) Eri's fingertips trembled faintly. Three days since that remedial lesson. The cold feel of the desk and Rina's whisper of "You've gotten good at this" still hadn't faded from her mind. The sensations of that day, when fifteen female students had approached her one after another, came back to her repeatedly at night. And now—not even a scrap of paper was necessary anymore. Just by placing a key there, she would move. That fact sank coldly deep into Eri's chest. She picked up the key. The weight of the metal bit into her palm. At the same time—something heavy stirred deep in her gut. It wasn't fear or impatience. Her body was beginning to react in anticipation of what was coming next. A physiological premonition. A trembling from deep within her organs that she couldn't even explain herself. (Stop—nothing's even started yet.) Even as she screamed in her mind, her fingers clutched the key tightly. Morning classes began. Japanese, math, English—the teachers' flat voices flowed through the classroom. Eri kept gripping the key under her desk the entire time. The cold metal gradually warmed up, becoming indistinguishable from her own body heat. And that—turned into a twisted sense of relief. (This key—) What should have been a source of terror began to feel, as time passed, like an anchor for confirmation. This small piece of metal was telling her where she should go, who she existed for. Such a delusion. Eri felt nauseous with self-loathing. And yet, there she was, waiting for after school to come. — A little past 5 PM, as the after-school bustle began to fade from the school building. Eri went around to the back of the gymnasium. No one was there. Only the distant shouts of club activities could be heard. Beyond the ivy-covered brick wall, the iron door of the gym storage shed was visible. She inserted the spare key. A small click sounded. She pushed the door open. The smell of rubber mats stung her nose. Vaulting boxes and volleyball carts piled on metal shelves. The orange light of dusk streaming through a small window made the fine dust float in the air. A space of about forty square meters—her body understood the moment she entered that there was no escape. And there, on the rubber mat in the center, twenty female students stood in a semicircle. In school uniforms. Their grade levels varied. They all had the same look in their eyes—appraising, expectant, the eyes of those watching prey walk willingly into a trap. Beyond them. Sitting on a vaulting box with her legs crossed was Himura Erika. Arms folded, she looked down at Eri expressionlessly. Glossy black hair reaching her waist. Narrow, amber-colored eyes. Only the silver brooch at her collar glinted dully in the dim shed. Next to Erika stood Mutsu Mika. Short blonde hair. Her sharp, slanted eyes caught Eri like a beast's. The muscles in her arms, with her uniform sleeves rolled up, twitched faintly. Hanasaki Rina stood at the edge of the line of twenty, wearing a sweet smile. Her honey-colored curled hair fell softly over her shoulders. Her large chestnut eyes gazed gently at Eri—hiding cold calculation deep within. Erika didn't open her mouth. No one said anything. Just the stares of twenty people pierced Eri's entire body. Behind her—the door slammed shut automatically. The last escape route vanished. (I don't want this.) Words floated up in her head. I want to run. Help me. But—. Eri's knees dropped onto the rubber mat. She couldn't even understand it herself. Even as her mind screamed no, her body knelt of its own accord, and her trembling fingers touched the first button of her uniform. From the moment Rina said "You've gotten good at this" in the fourth session, over the past three days—Eri's body had learned obedience as a reflex. And now, for the first time, it activated beyond the control of her will. "[laughing]Hey, look at that." Mika's sneer echoed through the shed. "[cold]She's begging for it herself. Pathetic, worse than a dog." The gazes of the twenty focused on the movement of Eri's hands. One button of her uniform came undone, then another—Eri's face turned pale white, her lips trembling. But her hands didn't stop. A sensation as if she were being manipulated by something separate from herself. (I want to stop—stop—) Tears became impossible to hold back. It was the moment her will and body completely dissociated. The cracks that had been accumulating since the first session now spread all at once. "[gentle]It's okay, Eri." Rina stepped forward from the line and gently stroked Eri's disheveled hair. The touch was as gentle as a mother's. "[gentle]You'll feel better soon." The sweet voice seeped deep into her ears. The seam between violence and kindness melted away Eri's resistance once again. Her uniform fell open. The rough texture of the rubber mat bit into her knees and palms. The pervasive smell of sweat and dust pushed her consciousness even further away. The first one approached. A female student broke from the semicircle and stood before Eri. Silent. Cold eyes. Eri couldn't lift her face, and it was as if she was watching from afar as her own fingers grasped the hem of her skirt. The act began. The second. The third. On the rubber mat, Eri's body continued to move like a machine. The skin of her knees chafed raw, a stinging pain running through them. But even that pain felt like a distant event. Mika stood with her arms crossed, supervising the flow of the act. "[cold]Next. Hurry it up." The fourth. The fifth. Rina occasionally fixed Eri's hair, wiped away her sweat, and whispered in her ear. "[whispers]You're good at this, Eri. I'm impressed." Those words—broke something deep in her chest. The sixth. The seventh. Erika looked down on the entire scene from atop the vaulting box. Her amber eyes narrowed slightly—with satisfaction. The eighth. The ninth. By the time the tenth was finished, Eri realized. Her body, instead of outright rejection, had begun to repeatedly contract and relax just before contact. Not stiffening from fear—but as if preparing. (No—this is—) Even as she tried to tell herself no, her body's reactions were honest. The eleventh. The twelfth. When the thirteenth approached, Eri felt it—deep in her gut, an unknown sensation began to swirl. Not fear, not pain. Something hotter, something suffocating—. The fourteenth. Her palms clawed at the rubber mat. Her breathing grew ragged. Something she couldn't control was rising up from inside her body. The fifteenth finished. In that instant. Eri's body—convulsed violently. A voice she had never heard herself make escaped her throat. Her back arched like a bow, her whole body spasming. Her vision exploded into pure white. She couldn't even understand what was happening. Just—an irresistible wave surged from the core of her body—. (Ah—ahh—) Tears spilled down in streams. Not from fear, not from pain. She had felt it. Completely unrelated to her own will, her first climax had pierced Eri's body. That fact—struck her down more deeply than anything else. The air in the shed froze in an instant. All twenty female students stopped still, and in Erika's eyes—for the first time, a light of satisfaction dwelled. "[cold]Finally." A cold murmur from atop the vaulting box. Stifling her sobs, Eri continued to endure the remaining acts. The meaning of the tears streaming down her cheeks—she didn't even know herself. Only the certainty that she could never go back took root inside her as a recognition before language. The sixteenth. The seventeenth. The eighteenth. The nineteenth. The last one slowly pulled away. — It was all over. The twenty female students left the shed one after another. The sound of their footsteps faded away. Mika, at the very back, turned around and spat out, "[cold]That was fun. See ya." and closed the door. Rina, at the very end, touched Eri's cheek and whispered, "[gentle]Next time will be even more fun." —and vanished. And only Erika remained. She climbed down from the vaulting box and stood beside Eri, who lay on the damp rubber mat. The eyes looking down at her were no longer eyes meant for a human being. "[cold]You are approaching completion." Murmuring only that, she too closed the door and left. Complete silence arrived. Through the shed's small window, the bluish tint of night began to stream in. Eri, lying on the rubber mat, couldn't move a single finger. The layers of multiple sensations remaining inside her body—pain, and a different kind of lingering sensation—intermingled, and she couldn't distinguish which belonged to her. Staring up at the metal beams of the ceiling, Eri silently ruminated. (Broken—) But those words were no longer even despair. (Tonight, if someone calls for me again—) She would come here again. That certainty surfaced more vividly than the despair of being broken. That very certainty—was the deepest despair. Her body had been completely taken over. Perhaps the individual known as Sakamoto Eri no longer existed. Outside the shed. Under the starlight, Erika took out her smartphone. With cold fingertips, she typed a message. 'Yui. Begin preparations for the next stage.' She pressed send—.