Ke Xue Lu Ren Wang

In her bedroom on the second floor, Ooka Momiji is beginning her yoga practice.

Every two days, she spends half an hour stretching her body, which not only maintains her flexibility but also effectively relieves muscle tension caused by prolonged sitting and practicing karuta.

For her, this was a necessary form of spiritual practice.

Flexibility can play an unexpected role in the explosive power of a karuta match.

She had just completed a difficult split, raising one leg straight over her shoulder with her toes pointed towards the ceiling.

After holding the position for a minute, she slowly lowered herself, her breathing becoming somewhat rapid, and fine beads of sweat appeared on her fair forehead.

These movements are quite physically demanding.

She took a sip of warm black tea, picked up a towel to wipe away the light sweat on her body, and waited for her body temperature to drop slightly before going into the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, Ooka Momiji came out wrapped in a bath towel.

Inside the bedroom, a maid was already waiting.

"Young Miss, let me help you."

The maid skillfully picked up the hairdryer and used a gentle breeze to dry her short, curly brown hair. Then she took out an outfit that the girl had already specified from the wardrobe.

It was a specially made kimono with a subtle maple leaf pattern.

With the help of a maid, the light kimono was put on properly.

After straightening her collar and belt, Ooka Momiji stepped out of the room.

Outside the door, Iori Muga waited quietly.

He was still wearing a well-tailored black suit, his expression cold, and he didn't say a word.

Ooka Momiji walked ahead of him, her light kimono allowing her to move without any hindrance, and her dignified and beautiful face exuded an innate elegance.

The two walked one after the other to the corridor on the second floor.

"Hanyu-kun, it's time for class."

Iori Muga stood by the second-floor railing and called out calmly to the living room downstairs.

"it is good."

Yuzuru responded and looked up.

His gaze met that of Ooka Momiji on the second floor.

He noticed the difference in the other person at just one glance.

Ooka Momiji tilted her head slightly, looking down at him, a faint smile curving her lips. It wasn't her usual dignified demeanor, but rather a hint of maturity that made her unfathomable.

……

Upon arriving at the study on the second floor, the tutoring session began as usual.

As always, Iori Muga stood at the door, his figure upright, like a loyal and dutiful doorman.

Seeing this, Yuzuru Tatsumi casually took out the notebook that they used as a communication tool.

As soon as she opened it, Ooka Momiji had already written a line of words on it with her slender fingers.

"Let's continue tonight."

Yuzuru's eyelid twitched, and he wrote, "Can't we wait a bit?"

"You don't want to?"

"Isn't that too frequent?"

"As long as we don't cause too much trouble, Iori won't bother us."

Upon seeing this line, Yuzuru felt a little uncertain.

He didn't continue the conversation, his gaze falling on her unusual outfit today. He picked up his pen and wrote, "Why are you wearing a kimono today?"

"You don't like it?"

"I like it." Yuzuru wrote those two words almost without hesitation.

"Is it pretty?"

Ooka Momiji's pen tip glided across the paper as she wrote quickly, as if she were asking a question.

After she finished writing, she raised her blue eyes and looked at him quietly, as if waiting for a satisfactory answer.

"nice."

"What's so good about it?"

"..."

Yuzuru was a little confused by her barrage of questions.

"It's beautiful everywhere!" he wrote.

"Be more specific," Ooka Momiji persisted, her handwriting revealing a seriousness.

Yuzuru had no choice but to raise his head and begin to examine her more closely again.

The girl sat gracefully opposite him, her specially made kimono clearly carefully chosen.

The elegant background is adorned with a few delicate maple leaf patterns, which perfectly complement her classic and dignified temperament.

The kimono's cut perfectly hugged her beautiful figure, with a wide sash outlining her slender waist before flowing naturally downwards, neither revealing nor lacking in allure.

She is like a meticulously crafted painting; any more would make it too vibrant, any less would make it too bland.

Yuzuru had to admit that this outfit did elevate her personal charm to a new level.

"Hmm... It makes her figure look great when she wears it, and she also has a very elegant demeanor." Yuzuru gave his evaluation on a sticky note.

After reading it, Ooka Momiji frowned slightly and wrote, "Why can't I tell from your expression?"

"You can't just look like those sleazy guys in movies who drool over beautiful women, their eyes lighting up, right?"

"So, you're saying I'm still not attractive enough, right?"

No, not at all.

"Then why aren't you using your hands?"

"???"

Yuzuru froze as he stared at the line of words on the note.

He looked up and saw Ooka Momiji looking at him with a half-smile, not at all like she was joking.

"I don't quite understand." Yuzuru decisively chose to play dumb; he dared not accept this kind of test.

"If you like it, why don't you touch it?"

Ooka Momiji's pen tip left clear words on the paper.

"Is it okay for teachers to touch students?"

"Can't I?" she asked back.

"..."

Yuzuru was speechless for a moment.

Before he could figure out how to reply, he saw Miss Hongye across from him suddenly make a move.

Her feet gently slipped out of her clogs, and before he could react, her long, slender, fair legs simply slipped over the gap under the table and landed on his thighs.

Yuzuru's body tensed instantly, his mind going blank.

The hem of his kimono lifted slightly with this movement, revealing two shapely, straight legs draped over his trousers without any cover. The delicate warmth of his skin was transmitted through the thin fabric, the sensation so clear that it made his heart skip a beat.

"How is it? Don't you like it?"

Ooka Momiji wrote in her notebook, but maintained a dignified expression on her face.

Yuzuru's Adam's apple bobbed. Forcing himself to calm down, he wrote on the paper: "Miss Momiji, how could you presume my fetish?"

"When I wore black over-the-knee socks today, your eyes kept staring at my legs."

"..."

Yuzuru was speechless, unable to refute.

He is indeed a leg fetishist, but he thought he had already restrained himself, yet he was still discovered by the other party.

Was my gaze really that obvious?

"What if I actually like stockings?" he tried to make a last-ditch effort.

New handwriting quickly appeared on the paper, carrying an undeniable sense of pressure.

"Does that mean my legs aren't pretty?"

"It looks good." Yuzuru replied almost instantly; he dared not answer this question wrong.

Ooka Momiji seemed satisfied with the answer. She wrote another line, her pen pausing on the paper as if issuing a final judgment.

"Then why don't you touch it?"