Banging the Hot MILFs of Tokyo

"Absent,"

Seated in the third row, some chairs away from the window, Jun frowned. The two seat meant for Yuki and Renji were empty. Having an empty Renji seat was normal but that of Yuki, wasn't .

He smuggled his phone into his sleeves from his pocket, and glanced stylishly down at his phone.

He unlocked it with a quick swipe, kept it on mute just in case. He went straight to the sms app on his phone. After a bit of loading, his fingers tapped out a message hurriedly.

Jun: [You just disappeared without warning. Bruh, where are you? You gonna be in big trouble for missing Prof Kuroda class again. Hurry up.]

He hit send, the message sliding up from the keyboard to the screen. He raised his head to avoid suspicion however subsequently checked for Yuki's reply.

No "read" receipt. No typing dots. Nothing from Yuki. Jun stared at his message, his index fingers both hovering over the keyboard unsure of what next to type.

He sighed and locked the phone. The screen went black and tossing it face-down on the desk, Jun crouched backwards in his chair.

"Thirty-two present and sixty-four people absent," Professor Kuroda announced flatly, eyes still scanning the clipboard. "Not surprised about that." Kurosawa had a one last crosscheck of the names of people present to be exact that no one had answered present in someone's absence.

He closed the file, after being sure that the numbers were exact, the clipboard was finally slapped shut and dropped on the table.

Sixty-four? That was nearly two-thirds of the class. Even for an elective, it was ridiculous. Jun glanced around—row after row of empty seats, a few scattered groups of students packing their things half-heartedly pretending to understand whatever Kuroda was teaching.

"That's it for attendance. You'll find the prep sheet for tomorrow's digital conference uploaded to the portal. Don't forget to submit a rough draft of your role analysis by midnight. I expect effort, not AI work. I promise you if my AI detector reads more than 4.5% of AI, I will give you a carryover!"

Someone near the back groaned, followed by weak chuckles and mutters from behind. "Damn, he even measured the percentage."

Professor Kuroda shot a look in their direction. Silence fell again, none willing to show grievance. "I have eyes everywhere," he added coldly, adjusting his glasses again with two fingers up to his nose bridge. "And no, citing ChatGPT doesn't count as a valid source."

He slung his worn leather satchel over one shoulder and gave one final glance to the class. "Dismissed." He turned around, noticing how worn out everyone was, and hit the desk and said, "You're dismissed."

The sharp thud of Kuroda's palm against the desk jolted even the sleepiest of students. A few startled gasps slipped out, but no one dared laugh. Then he left...

It didn't take long for the silence to dissolve and the class rustle to life. Bags zipped up real fast, chairs raised up and conversations continued. Jun stayed seated for a second, rubbing a hand down his face before flipping his phone over again.

Still unread.

He clicked into the chat, staring at the single check mark under his message. He paused for a while, one of his hand going behind his neck to give a soft rub. He had a sore neck from last night and to add to it, an aching limbs.

Jun rested his head on the table. His hand on his chin and said, "Where the fuck did this guy go to for 2 days?"

His thumb hovered for a second over Yuki's profile picture—just that same old grainy photo of Yuki with his hood up, flashing peace signs with his hand. Jun exhaled slowly, shoving the phone into his jacket pocket as he slung his bag over his shoulder.

"Yo, Jun," A classmate called softly near the door, "You coming?"

"In a sec," he muttered under his breath, glancing once more at Yuki's empty chair. "You better not be doing something stupid again," He thought, before finally heading out of the classroom.

~At the Dorm~

"Hey, you were the one who sent Yuki on the phone repair journey. Got any clue where he should be?" Jun barged in, he didn't wait for a response before tossing his slingshot bag onto the nearest bed with a dull thud.

Haruto didn't even flinch.

He was slouched in his chair, eyes glued to the TV screen, thumbs furiously working the controls of his game console. A headset was strapped around his head, completely drowning out Jun's presence as he battled through whatever first-person shooter had him hooked this week.

"Haruto!" Jun snapped, louder this time.

Haruto flinched mid-round and fumbled a button combo, resulting in a loud "YOU DIED" flashing across the screen. He ripped one side of the headphones off with a scowl and turned halfway in his seat.

"Dude! Do you have any idea how close I was to clearing that sniper level?"

Jun shot him a deadpan look. "Do you have any idea that Yuki's been MIA for two days now?"

Haruto blinked. "Two days?"

Jun nodded. "No texts. No pickups. Not even a ghost emoji. And last I heard, you were the one who told him to take his phone to get fixed at that weird street tech place near—what was it? East Market?"

Haruto's mouth tightened. He slowly sat up straighter, setting the controller down on the desk. "Maybe he didn't want to return. You know the life there is less costly and also fun. Chills bruh, he'd be back in any minute."

"Well I don't see him here in any minute." Jun folded his arms, tensed. Haruto ignored him briefly, resetting the game to the level he failed. He slouched onto Yuki's bed, trying to dial his number.

Ring

Ring...

"Hey what's up dude, twenty missed call, what the fuck?" Yuki's voice resounded from the speaker and Jun sat up straight on the bed. He signalled Haruto who almost had his headphones worn for another game to come.

Jun narrowed his eyes, still clutching the phone tightly. "You've been gone for two days straight—what the hell, man?!"

Yuki didn't bother replying and cut the call halfway and switched over to text message."Dude open the door."

Jun blinked. "What?"

Shortly Jun heard a loud knock on the door right after followed by more soft knocks.

Thud.

Thud-thud.

He scrambled to his feet, straightening himself completely out of bed and pulled the door open with one swift tug on the handle.

Standing there was Yuki.

His black hoodie clung to his frame, soaked with sweat. On his neck were tiny but evident red spots crawled up on each side of his neck.

"Damn, what did you eat? And why do you fucking resemble someone with the chicken pox? Yo… Stay outside." Jun stared, stunned a bit before bursting into laughter. Yuki didn't say a word and brushed past Jun's side.

Jun freaked out, cleaning off the spot Yuki and him had contacts with. Yuki staggered past him, dropping his bag on the floor with a silent thump. "So guys, you have to help me." Haruto rose from his seat, his headphones dangling on his neck and mouth slightly agape.

"Yuki? What the hell happened to you?" Haruto asked, stepping forward, but Yuki ignored him completely.

He made a rush for the bathroom, yanked the door open, and without bothering to shut it all the way, turned on the sink to maximum. The gurgling sound of water filled the dorm as Yuki splashed it over his face, over and over again like he couldn't scrub something off fast enough.

"Yuki?" Jun called out again, edging toward the bathroom doorway. He leaned in to see Yuki gripping both sides of the sink, head lowered, panting. His shoulders were trembling slightly.

"What happened to your neck, man?" Haruto asked, following close behind. "Did you fall into poison ivy or something?"

Yuki didn't answer right away. He looked up at the mirror, water dripping down his face. His reflection showed the rashes running from under his jaw to behind his ears, and now that they looked closer—there were tiny black marks forming around the red.

"How bad is it?" Haruto asked, squinting at the spreading rash.

Yuki groaned, gripping the sink tighter. "Very bad, Yoh! It's like my neck's trying to cook itself from the inside out."

Haruto crossed his arms, trying to suppress a grin but failing miserably. "Bro, no offense, but you look like a swollen tomato. If tomatoes got cursed and started sweating like pigs."

Jun shot him a glare, nudging him on the shoulders. He tried to hold off the laughter brewing in his throat. "Haruto. Seriously? That's not funny."

Haruto raised his hands in mock surrender. "Come on, man. It's a little funny. Look at him—he's red and puffy."

Yuki groaned louder. "Thanks, Haru. Really feeling the love right now."

"I'm just trying to lighten the mood, alright?" Haruto chuckled. "You come in looking like you lost a boxing match with a beehive, and you expect me not to say something?"

Jun ignored the banter, stepping closer to Yuki and grabbing a clean towel from the shelf. He held it out. "Here. Dry off. Then you better start talking. From the beginning."

Yuki took the towel, pressing it lightly to the blotchy side of his face, wincing as it got a bit hot for him. "I took Strenda and I'm having this bad effect."

"Strenda?!"