Teach Me, Seonho (1)
Cheonmu Hunter Academy. Sunday night.
It was past eleven when Kim Isabel finally returned to her private room, having finished the last service of the weekend and the cleaning of the chapel hall.
"You've worked hard again today, Sister Isabel. Sleep well."
"Yes. Good night to you as well, Sister Selena."
As always, Yoon Selena was there—the Recovery Department senior who shadowed her everywhere. Lately, for some reason, she had grown even more determined not to let Isabel out of her sight. Meal times went without saying; she trailed behind her like a loyal duckling even for something as simple as cleaning duty or a trip to the restroom.
Not that Kim Isabel thought anything strange of it, so Selena's rather conspicuous surveillance slid past her without incident.
…After all, at the moment, Isabel's head was too full of someone she considered far more important than Yoon Selena.
Click.
"…Whew."
Only once she was inside her own private space did she let out a sigh, picturing the face that had occupied her mind all day long. Lee Seonho.
The man to whom she had shown her naked body for the first time—the man she had even allowed to touch her.
It wasn't as though she'd done it because she and Seonho were lovers. That day's training had been purely to treat her androphobia.
By touching his body directly, she was meant to grow accustomed to men in general; by experiencing the gentleness of his hands, she was meant to chip away at her fear of them.
They had shown each other their bare bodies, yes—but it was never training with any lewd intent behind it. For one thing, Seonho had never once expressed a single personal desire toward her.
He'd noticed how much she was struggling and stopped midway, full of consideration like that. A man like that could never harbor dirty thoughts about her.
He was simply doing his best to help her, putting his abilities as a mental-type buffer to full use.
…And so these feelings she was experiencing now—surely they were her own fault, not his. That was how Kim Isabel blamed herself.
'No, Isabel. Seonho is helping cure my androphobia out of the goodness of his heart, and for me to develop feelings like this….'
If she claimed she'd never harbored any rational, human attraction to him, it would almost certainly be a lie.
Of all the men Kim Isabel had ever met, Lee Seonho was the most dependable, the most reassuring.
Granted, she normally couldn't so much as speak to a man, so Seonho was practically the only man she'd ever held a proper conversation with—but even that had only been possible thanks to the buffs he gave her.
Even so, dwelling on the memories from that 'training,' letting strange thoughts take root in her head—no matter how she spun it, that was wrong. Feelings she could never confess to him either, to the man who trusted her enough to help her overcome her androphobia.
If she were honest, he would surely be disgusted with her. That was what she believed, and so she pressed the desire smoldering in her chest down deep, again and again.
'…Come to think of it, tomorrow's already Monday, isn't it.'
The moment she remembered that it had been exactly one week ago tonight, right here, that she'd received that training, Kim Isabel's face flushed crimson all over again.
That experience of seeing a man's thing for the very first time, of touching it.
And the experience of showing her own naked body to a man for the first time, of having her breasts touched.
And at the end, just like that time at Seonho's house—losing control of her bladder amid that inexplicable sensation blooming from the very core of her body.
Truthfully, it had been a little different from urinating, but Isabel didn't know enough to recognize the difference. Her avoidance and fear of men had meant she'd never properly acquired even basic knowledge about sex.
Which, ironically, was the one mercy of the situation: in circumstances where any ordinary woman would have died of shame, her lack of sexual knowledge meant she felt considerably less embarrassed than most would have.
'When Seonho touched me, that was definitely how it felt, wasn't it….'
Squish.
"Nngh, hah…."
She wanted to feel that strange, mysterious sensation once more—the one she'd known under Seonho's hands. And so, lately, every night before sleep, Kim Isabel had taken to quietly kneading her own breasts.
Her enormous breasts, too large for even both hands to fully hold—she gathered one in each palm and kneaded them.
Rub rub, tap tap.
"Nnh, mmmh…."
Just as he had done at first: stroking the heavy mounds gently, then brushing her fingertips lightly over both nipples.
Squeeze. Tug, tuuug.
"Haah, hah, hnn…."
Pulling her nipples out between thumb and forefinger, then pressing them back in.
Knead knead, squish squish….
"Haaaah, hah… hoo, nghh…."
And at times seizing both breasts in her hands and roughly crushing them together.
Each time, a tingling sensation seemed to stir in her lower half, and yet it never seemed to reach that feeling from before.
She didn't even have a proper concept of erogenous zones to begin with—there was no way she could reach orgasm by fumbling at herself alone.
It was Kim Isabel's body, but when it came to locating the pleasure points in that body, Lee Seonho was without question far more skilled.
And so tonight, once again, Isabel finally gave up—thirty minutes of fondling her own breasts to no avail—and resigned herself to simply going to bed.
'Maybe the way Seonho touches me really is something special. Or maybe it just felt good because it was Seonho doing the touching.'
She wanted to ask him, but the week offered no opportunity whatsoever. Outside of Mondays, there was almost no chance to be alone with him.
Being in the Recovery Department, her weekends were packed; and Seonho, for his part, seemed to leave the academy grounds on weekends too—she could hardly even run into him by accident within the walls.
Which meant the only day her question could be answered—the only day she could learn how exactly he touched her breasts—was Monday.
And tomorrow was it. She shared a morning class with him, and afterward there was the class in which they would naturally end up talking, just the two of them.
At the prospect of being alone with Lee Seonho for the first time in a while, Kim Isabel's heart thumped hard in her chest.
Jolt.
"Nngh, hnnnh?!"
…And at that very moment, a familiar sensation—one she had most definitely felt before—suddenly washed over her from below.
"Wh-what was that, just now…?"
It lasted only an instant, but it had felt like something she'd experienced before.
Unmistakably similar to what she'd felt when Seonho's hands were on her breasts. Not overwhelming enough to fill her head the way it had then, nor confusing enough to leave her unable to form words—but similar all the same.
Startled by a sensation she'd felt while thinking of Seonho, Isabel's mind fell into considerable disarray.
'So this feeling really is connected to Seonho, isn't it.'
She couldn't say she understood, but… couldn't she just ask him about this, too?
And so the list of questions she needed to ask him when they were finally alone grew once again. After all, when it came to this kind of knowledge, Lee Seonho was the only person on earth she could turn to.
'Tomorrow… he'll probably do the training again, won't he.'
Her androphobia hadn't been cured yet, after all.
Still, she was no longer like before—no longer trembling and fleeing the moment she laid eyes on a male student or a security guard. She did still shrink away, avoid their eyes, and scurry off pretending not to notice them… but it was progress.
That she had come this far was thanks to Seonho—but her androphobia was still not fully cured.
Convinced she would surely receive his 'training' again tomorrow, Kim Isabel drifted off to sleep on a wave of anticipation.
Sunday evening. A slightly late return to the dormitory.
The 'hypnosis training' with Choi Marie had run a bit long, so I'd made it back through the academy gates just barely inside curfew.
Weekend outings were unrestricted, but Cheonmu Academy was correspondingly strict about entries and exits on weekdays.
"I'm back~."
Today, as always, I walked in hoping to find my office wife… no, my dormitory wife, Do Yoonchae, waiting for me—but the room was silent.
Then again, there was another pair of shoes at the entrance besides mine, so Yoonchae was presumably still somewhere in the dorm.
'Did she step out to the bathroom or something?'
I had no intention of marching into the bathroom after her just to be branded a pervert.
I was already carefully managing a mildly negative affection level while conducting her training; if she decided I was an unrecoverable degenerate at this stage, the whole conditioning program could derail.
I figured I'd just greet her whenever she came out of the bathroom, and lay down on my bed staring at my phone. About five minutes passed.
Creeeak.
"…Phew."
The door to the washroom opened, and my dormitory roommate began to slip quietly into the room.
…Though for someone who'd supposedly just come out to relieve herself, her hair—and indeed her whole body—was dripping wet.
"……Yoonseong?"
"…Oh, it's you. Say something when you get back, will you."
"I did say something when I came in…."
"Didn't hear it."
Do Yoonchae eyed me warily for a moment, recognized me, relaxed, and stepped fully into the room.
Granted, she'd been outed as a woman to me some time ago—but her drastically reduced sense of distance was what left me flustered now.
And with good reason: Do Yoonchae was strolling out of the washroom completely naked, with nothing but a single towel guarding her front.
'Has she just decided to show it all outright now?'
It was entirely possible she'd thrown her hands up—well, he's already seen the girls, so what difference does the rest make.
Or maybe, during the weekend when I was away from the academy, she'd spun herself into some deranged private delusion and arrived at another bizarre conclusion.
And failing that, there was always the possibility she was escalating the intensity of that 'negotiation' of hers, trying to come at me bolder this time….
"What have you been staring at this whole time?"
"No, it's just… wait. Where are your clothes?"
"Was I not about to put them on? I just got out of the bath, obviously I'm not wearing anyth—"
"……."
"…H-hiiiiiiik?!"
Only belatedly realizing what brazen act she'd just committed, Do Yoonchae scrambled to cover herself and crouched down behind the bed.
After all that speculation on my part, the truth was simply that Do Yoonchae was being her own inimitable self. She'd gone in for a shower without anticipating my return, and without bringing a change of clothes in with her. Obviously.
Honestly, the original novel's Seo Woojin—two full years of cohabitation with a total airhead like that without ever noticing she was a woman—was every bit as remarkable a specimen as she was.
"Th-that's the kind of thing you tell me right away! S-see, just as expected of a lecherous bastard—you've been shamelessly ogling my naked body since the moment I—"
"No, you showed me. And besides, you strolled out so casually I was the one caught off guard."
"H-how could it possibly be casual! Wh-what I permitted extended to my chest and no further! If you dare use my weakness to demand anything beyond that, there will be no negotiation!"
"Look, I never agreed to anything about your chest or anything else in the first place…."
"Y-you despicable creature…. H-how much longer do you intend to toy with me…."
Three days since we'd last faced each other, and the moment our eyes met she was spouting this nonsense, hurriedly pulling underwear from her drawer and fumbling it on.
Confronting that scatterbrained temperament of hers again made it hit home, all on its own: I was truly back at the academy.