Everything Begins With a Debt in the Hentai World

As the sun began to rise in the east, Ito Yoshito found himself enjoying a rare, leisurely morning, waking up a little later than usual.

"Ugh—ah!"

He tossed off the covers and stretched lazily, "I slept so well."

Perhaps it was the pleasant events of yesterday that contributed to his restful sleep, coupled with the sweet dreams that made him feel particularly refreshed.

"It's already 8 AM," he muttered, glancing at his phone.

After replying to a few messages from friends sent the night before, he got up to wash up and have breakfast, preparing to head to the Miyajima Dojo later.

"Snap," he tapped his forehead with realization.

"Today's rent day; I need to talk to Asou-san about it."

Asou Miyuri collected rent on the first Sunday of each month, and today happened to be a Sunday. However, Yoshito had been hospitalized last month.

Although he was exempt from medical bills, his savings had taken a hit, and the dojo's salary disbursement wasn't until the end of the month.

This predicament meant that if Yoshito used his remaining money to pay the rent, he would exceed his budget for the month, which would leave little for food.

Opening the Line app, he navigated to Asou Miyuri's contact and opened their chat window.

Ito Yoshito: [Asou-san, it's rent day today, and I won't be at home. I might be back quite late tonight. Hugging GIF] (unread)

'She's probably still asleep,' Yoshito thought as he closed his phone and set off for the dojo.

Time flew by, and as noon approached, he finally received a reply from Asou Miyuri.

————

Asou Miyuri (the landlord): [Got it, let's talk when you come over tonight.] (read)

Ito Yoshito: [Did Asou-san just get up? Such a lazybug. Sleeping GIF] (read)

Asou Miyuri (the landlord): [Hmm! Smirk GIF] (read)

————

After a brief chat with Asou Miyuri, Yoshito set his phone aside and headed to the kitchen to prepare lunch for the Miyajima family.

Before long, night had arrived again, and Ito Yoshito found himself back at Tsukishima Kyouko's house.

"Knock knock..."

He tapped on the door again.

With a click, the door swung open, revealing Tsukishima Kyouko dressed as she was yesterday, in a form-fitting knitted dress, though this time it was a deep purple.

Her shapely legs were adorned with silky black stockings, a different style from the slightly thicker ones she wore before—these were sheer and lightweight.

The black stockings had a delicate, transparent material, reminiscent of a light veil that gave off a dreamlike quality, invoking images of mist over a moonlit lake, subtly revealing the texture of her skin while adding an air of mystery and allure.

Under the soft, diffused light, the stockings shimmered gently like twinkling stars in the night sky, leaving much to the imagination.

"Come in," she said.

"Oh," Yoshito noted that, for some reason, Tsukishima Kyouko's demeanor seemed to have reverted to its original form, lacking the softness that had followed their intimate interaction yesterday.

He skillfully changed out of his shoes for indoor ones at the entrance and followed her into the living room.

"Why don't you head to the study first? I'll go get some water so you won't have to step out for it later," Tsukishima Kyouko suggested.

Yoshito glanced at her retreating figure before entering the study.

Bathed in warm light, a faint, pleasant aroma filled the air, curling smoke creating an enchanting atmosphere.

"I wonder if that journal is still here?"

Yoshito thought as he moved toward the bookshelf, scanning for the familiar notebook.

"Just as I suspected, it's gone."

The bookshelf had been tidied up; the previously haphazardly arranged books were now organized neatly, leaving no space between them.

"Should I tell Tsukishima-sensei about this?"

Yoshito mulled over the idea.

Although he had only seen part of it yesterday, the thoughts from Tsukishima Matsuiichi were rather unsettling.

He worried that if Matsuo teamed up with other men, it could cause irreparable harm to Tsukishima Kyouko.

"He wouldn't do that, right? Tsukishima-sensei must really care for Matsuiichi-san; he wouldn't act against her wishes…"

"But if something stirs in that direction, it could turn mad for a man."

Yoshito glanced down, contemplating his own strength.

He didn't have the same worries.

Tall, powerful, he could bully younger girls but also charm mature women effortlessly.

"Maybe I should pick an appropriate moment to say something to Matsuiichi-san."

The sound of bright footsteps approached from a distance, drawing Yoshito's attention.

He turned to see Tsukishima Kyouko, balancing two cups in her hands, wearing shiny high heels.

"Why are you wearing high heels at home, Kyouko-san?"

Yoshito asked, intrigued. 'Isn't it uncomfortable to wear them at home?'

"Wearing heels gives a sense of going to work; it adds a certain authority to my presence," she replied casually.

"Then why not wear an office outfit while you're at it?"

"Hey, Yoshito, are you here to study or to watch me strut like I'm on a runway? You have so many demands!"

Tsukishima Kyouko shot him a glare, exasperated by his curious nature, as if he were a child with relentless questions.

Didn't he know that curiosity could get him into trouble?

Knowing too much could lead to disastrous repercussions.

"Come on, let's go over the mistakes on yesterday's exam paper," she beckoned, urging Yoshito to sit at the desk.

Time passed slowly as he gradually absorbed the knowledge from Kyouko's clear, flowing explanations.

"Gulp."

Tsukishima Kyouko took a sip from her cup to soothe her dry throat.

"Let's take a break, Yoshito."

He shifted his attention away from the exam paper at her words, his gaze openly scanning Tsukishima Kyouko's long legs encased in black stockings.

"Kyouko-san, look… heh heh…"

A mischievous laugh escaped Yoshito's lips as he glanced at her, coyly suggesting his thoughts.

"Hmm."

Tsukishima Kyouko regarded him with a look that clearly showed she disapproved of the youthful folly of boys in their adolescence.

That age is often marked by rampant hormones and foolish thoughts.

Rolling her eyes at him, she leaned back in her chair, engrossed in the book she held, utterly silent aside from the soft rustle of pages turning.

Yoshito felt like a hooked fish, left dangling and confused, wondering if the fisherman would finally reel him in.

"Huh?"

Suddenly, he noticed that the journal Tsukishima Kyouko was flipping through looked oddly familiar.

'Isn't that the notebook I found yesterday belonging to Tsukishima-sensei?'