Chapter 868 - 867- Yuki’s Dilemma

Chapter 868: Chapter 867- Yuki’s Dilemma

"Aldric—"

The word died in his throat the moment Seraphina lost her balance.

He turned, reached, caught—too late to stop the fall, just in time to keep her from hitting the floor. The momentum knocked him backward onto the bench. She came down with him in a tangle of limbs and uniform fabric.

For a heartbeat, neither of them spoke.

Seraphina had landed across him, one knee braced on either side of his hips. Her skirt had ridden up badly in the fall, and the black floral panties that had slipped from her leg lay several feet away on the floor like the final touch in a scene that looked far worse than it was.

Aldric stared up at her, stunned.

"My fault," he said quickly, though even he sounded unconvinced. "I just—I was trying to catch you."

His face had already gone red. He was acutely aware of her weight against him, the warmth of her body, the way her loosened blouse had fallen open just enough to make the whole thing feel even more compromising. It looked wrong. Worse, it looked intimate.

Seraphina blinked at him with wide, startled eyes, then lowered her gaze as if she wished the floor would swallow her whole.

"No, it’s mine," she said, breath catching just enough to make the apology sound real. "I shouldn’t have worn them so loose. They slipped down my leg, and I stumbled. I’m sorry."

It was plausible. Embarrassing, but plausible. Aldric latched onto that explanation at once, mostly because the alternative was far more uncomfortable.

"Oh. Right. I see." He swallowed and pulled his hands away from her waist. "Are you hurt?"

He was too busy recovering from his own mortification to notice what mattered most.

Yuki, however, noticed everything.

She had stopped in the doorway so suddenly it was as if the floor had turned to stone under her feet. Her eyes went first to Seraphina, then to Aldric beneath her, then lower—to the discarded black panties lying in plain sight.

That single detail finished the picture for her.

Aldric on his back. Seraphina straddling him. Her skirt rucked up. Bare skin exposed. Both of them flushed. Both too startled to speak.

The kind of scene a person understands in an instant, even if they understand it wrong.

Something in Yuki’s chest seemed to go still.

She turned before either of them could say her name.

By the time Aldric pushed himself upright and Seraphina rose from the bench, Yuki was already halfway down the hall.

She didn’t get far.

Seraphina caught up to her with measured steps, not hurried ones. She didn’t need to chase. The damage had already been done.

Yuki had stopped with her back to the corridor wall, shoulders tense, hands clenched at her sides. She didn’t turn at first.

"Why?" she asked.

It came out so quietly that it hardly sounded like a question at all.

Seraphina stood a few paces behind her, watching. When she spoke, her voice carried no apology now, only cool certainty.

"Because I’m what he wants."

Yuki flinched as if struck.

She turned slowly, eyes already shining.

Seraphina held up the black floral panties between two fingers, almost carelessly.

"You know what he likes," she said. "These. Not those plain white ones you wear like a child."

The words were deliberate. Not shouted. Not snarled. Delivered softly enough to feel personal.

"He told me you dress like a girl who wants to be praised for being proper. He said it does nothing for him."

Yuki stared at her, horrified.

That was the part that hurt—the precision. Not just the accusation, but the detail. Seraphina had found the exact insecurity to cut open.

"What?" Yuki whispered.

Her hand came up before she seemed fully aware of it. A slap. Reflex more than decision.

"What is going on here?"

Viktor’s voice cut across the hallway with such perfect timing that it might as well have been rehearsed.

Yuki froze and turned.

He stood a short distance away, one hand holding out a notebook as if he had walked straight into the aftermath of something unfortunate and inconvenient. Dark coat neat, expression unreadable behind composed features, he looked every bit the professor arriving at the wrong moment.

"You left this behind," he said, offering the notebook to Yuki.

The shift in mood was immediate. What had just been a confrontation now had a witness. Worse for Yuki, it had a witness with authority.

She took the notebook without meeting his eyes.

Viktor’s gaze moved to Seraphina. Her skirt was still sitting wrong, one side caught higher than it should have been. She noticed only when his eyes lingered there.

"President," he said mildly, "is there a problem with your uniform?"

A flicker of genuine embarrassment crossed her face this time. She looked down, adjusted the fabric, and straightened.

"It’s nothing," she said.

Viktor tilted his head slightly, as if considering whether to let that answer stand.

Then, almost lazily, he said, "You’re wearing the perfume from that little book I wrote, aren’t you?"

The remark was odd enough to derail the moment.

Yuki looked up despite herself.

Seraphina understood immediately. She hesitated only a fraction before lowering her eyes and answering in a voice that sounded almost too careful.

"Professor, I don’t think you should involve yourself in student matters."

Then she turned and walked off, leaving silence in her wake.

Viktor watched her go for a moment, and Yuki, still shaken, caught the faintest impression that something had just happened above her head—something she didn’t fully understand.

She looked back at him.

"What book was she talking about?"

He gave a small laugh, as if embarrassed by the whole subject.

"Nothing serious. Years ago I wrote a little private guide under a false name. More of an experiment than anything else."

"A guide?"

"To attraction," he said. "How people catch each other’s attention. How desire is cultivated. How appearances, timing, suggestion—all of that changes how someone is perceived."

Yuki’s eyes widened. "You wrote *that* kind of book?"

"I wrote a book," he corrected lightly, "and some people chose to use it in very foolish ways."

He paused, then added with almost careless amusement, "A few readers even claimed it helped them steal other people’s lovers."

That landed exactly where it was meant to.

Yuki’s grip tightened around the notebook.

Of course.

That had to be it.

Seraphina had used something like that. Studied it. Planned it. The performance in the classroom, the panties, the way she spoke—none of it had been accidental.

"Professor," Yuki said, voice barely above a whisper, "can I ask the name of the book?"

Viktor studied her for a moment. The girl looked wrecked: eyes red, cheeks wet, posture collapsed in on itself.

"Why do you want to know?" he asked, not unkindly.

She bit her lip. The tears she’d been holding back finally spilled over.

"Because I think..." Her voice cracked. "I think someone used it on my boyfriend."

The confession hung between them.

Viktor didn’t answer at once. He let the silence stretch just long enough for her to feel the weight of what she’d admitted.

"Miss Tanabe," he said finally, "what makes you believe that?"

And then it all came out.

The rumor. Aldric’s anger. The way he’d grabbed her skirt in public. The accusation. The scene in the classroom. Seraphina’s words. The panties on the floor.