[Handiwork]

“....”

Thanks to them, I felt a bit better, so I asked them to leave. Once I’d hastily shooed all three of them out, I collapsed onto my bed and began searching frantically. I prayed that the cause of my body’s strange behavior would match the suspicion that had suddenly crossed my mind. At the same time, I prayed that it wouldn’t.

But no matter how much I searched the internet, I couldn’t find the results I wanted. Well, that was to be expected. I’d seen plenty of Mutant-types in my life, but I’d never once heard of a "heat cycle."

Ah, it wasn’t that there were no stories about it at all. I’d occasionally seen anecdotes on internet communities from Mutant-types who would blurt out things like, “I’m in heat, Master...” just to turn on the person they were with. But those kinds of sex-appeal lines weren’t going to help me right now. What I needed to know immediately was whether I was actually in a state of... heat, or not.

“Maybe I should ask Yozora, since she’s a Mutant-type too...”

No. That was absolutely out of the question. My head was fuzzy, leading me to have such strange thoughts, so I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head violently. I’d rather bite off my own tongue than bring up the topic of "heat" with her. Since she’d gone on and on about how she wasn’t interested in anything lewd, if I brought up something like being in heat, she’d definitely tease me for the next few years, asking if I’d suddenly become interested.

In the end, my gaze returned to the internet on my phone. At least here, I could get information anonymously. Of course, I’d have to check the sources to see if the information was accurate.

“....”

It was certain that ordinary Mutant-types didn’t have heat cycles. If so, it might be a unique condition specific to Gumiho. However, when I searched for "Gumiho heat cycle" just a moment ago, I didn’t get any useful results (it was just full of disgusting sexual harassment), so I changed the search term slightly. To: "Characteristics of a Gumiho."

“Ugh....”

Ridiculously, this was also full of sexual harassment. Among the historical Gumiho—excluding the male Gumiho entirely—there were threads debating which female Gumiho was the most "turn-on," and those posts had over 100,000 views. I suppose I should be thankful that I didn’t see any posts about wanting to put a leash on one and rape them while pulling it.

Staring at my phone with a slight frown, I eventually gave up and clicked on the "Wiki" site at the top of the search results. Since it was a wiki that anyone could edit, I couldn’t trust the content completely, but it was the best thing for a quick scan.

“...There’s more info here than I thought....”

Well, that was true, but most of it was useless to me. I didn’t open the wiki to read about how they have superior physical strength, or about their charms and brainwashing, or about the "Fox Marble" like something out of a magic fantasy. What I needed was the presence or absence of a "heat cycle" in Gumiho. To put it less bluntly, whether there were times when they had strange thoughts.

I read through the text carefully, scrolling to the very bottom of the page to find it.

“Heat.... Or something similar.... ...Ah?”

Just before the footnotes appeared, a description in the "Trivia" section caught my eye.

Hmm. That was a fact. Except for me. It made sense; didn’t the Chinese Gumiho hero who was active publicly about five years ago take a long break due to a premarital pregnancy? Fortunately, it wasn’t a case of getting pregnant from a one-night stand, but because she had a boyfriend.... Anyway, it was a sexual description I’d found after a long time. Sighing, I read on, thinking there might be something more after this.

Not a helpful post. Next.

...Well. I’d never really thought of myself that way.... I mean, I don’t think I’m ugly, but pretty.... Ah, anyway. Next.

“....”

Shizuka was probably the 6th Gumiho to appear in Japan. But instead of such trivial things, my gaze was drawn to the answer written after that. To the answer that said, "She didn’t particularly want to, but as a Gumiho, she couldn’t help it...."

“...Ugh....”

Does that mean that, for Gumiho specifically, a real "heat" is possible? I had no idea why such an embarrassing state existed.... Why on earth would this body state exist if pregnancy wasn’t the goal? I quickly scanned the remaining trivia with irritation, exhaling hot breaths and pressing my lips into the pillow. It wasn’t because there were more testimonies from other Gumiho, but simply because my body was already quite hot. Even though it hadn’t even been 30 minutes since Seo Woojin had lowered my temperature.

If it were because of a fever, that would be one thing, but... embarrassingly, it was because I was in heat.

“...Ah....”

I still didn’t know the cause, but the solution was actually quite obvious. If I had sex with someone, I’d be fine. Just like the other Gumiho. But that, honestly..., ...I hated it so much. It wasn’t because there was a logical reason for it. It was just an instinctive disgust, or perhaps indifference. If I had felt good when I masturbated, I might have had a small curiosity about sex, but I didn’t want to invest time in an act that was at best itchy and painful. And to think I’d have to rub skin against someone else—it felt like there would be hygienic issues, too.

“Phew....”

But, could I really? In this state, could I normally... carry out my spy activities? ...At least, shouldn’t I solve this?

“....”

Seo Woojin. The trash who dumped Yozora. But the trash who pretended nothing happened in front of others. I repeated his name in my head several times before wiping it away as if clearing my eyes. To think I’d even consider the thought of having sex just once and then breaking up. Until a moment ago, it was just a suspicion of "Am I in heat?", but now I had no choice but to be certain. I wouldn’t have had such thoughts unless I was in heat.

...Besides, if I were to accurately define the relationship between me and Seo Woojin, I shouldn’t be having sex to resolve a heat cycle; I should be playing the role of subtly helping him get back together with Yozora from the sidelines.... How could I do that with him? It’s not like I’m cheating on him in my right mind.

“...So annoying.”

I don’t want to mix bodies with a stranger. I hate the idea of mixing bodies with a man I know even more. Especially with Seo Woojin—absolutely, absolutely not. ...Ah, I’d completely forgotten for a moment, but doing that with the Vice Student Council President would be the same. And doing it with a woman? That’s such a boring joke it doesn’t even make me laugh.

In the end, the only option left was to handle it on my own ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠somehow....

“...Damn it....”

I let out a light curse and rubbed my face into the pillow. Since I’d been in a similar position since I started touching my phone, I just needed to adjust my position slightly. Then, I fumbled and moved my hand down toward my lower abdomen. I’d just close my eyes and do it. Based on my experience so far, it would be extremely painful, but I’d grit my teeth and try. They say you "go," right? Anyway, once I reached a climax, this throbbing would probably feel much better. It would be better to try something than to just stay like this.

...Maybe this time, because I’m in heat, it might actually feel good.

“....”

My loose t-shirt, which had been soaked in sweat and was only now slowly drying. I pulled the hem up with my fingers to expose my navel, then slid my hand under my stomach, which was pressed against the bed, and struggled to move it upward. My breasts, which had been squeezed between the pillow and the bed, touched my fingertips. Was it because I’d just sweated so much? It was definitely not a good texture. Who would like the feel of skin that had become slightly sticky as the sweat cooled? I’m not a pervert.

It would be much better if it were smooth, as if I’d just finished washing and dried myself off, so I could touch it to my heart’s content.... ...No. Let’s stop with this perverted talk. I must be out of my mind because of the heat. Why am I saying things like this? I swallowed my saliva, imagining what a climax might feel like.

Summarizing my state with the word "heat," which was a convenient excuse, I let out a sigh into the pillow. I... slowly... began to fiddle with my nipples with my fingertips.

“...Ugh.”

As expected, it didn’t feel good. It was true that the ticklish sensation I’d felt before had become more intense, but if you asked me if it felt good enough to keep doing it.... Well. I tilted my head and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠would answer "NO." It felt most accurate to describe it as a "strange feeling." Why on earth would people caress here? How different are ordinary people from me that they would pant and drool on their chests and climax just from having their nipples touched for a long time?

I wanted to know the reason, so I stimulated myself even harder, but I gained nothing. ...If it comes to this, what’s left is. Down there.

“Hoo.... Hoo....”

Even looking back, there hadn’t been a moment that felt particularly good, but my breathing had become ragged before I knew it. It was probably because it was hard to breathe while lying on my stomach. Gulp, I swallowed the saliva pooling in my mouth and carefully pushed my hand inside the waistband of my tightly fastened pants. I hadn’t felt it much when touching my breasts, but I could definitely feel that the temperature was much higher here. Probably because the area being touched was larger. And because it was retaining body heat with the pants and underwear....

...But somehow, even considering that, wasn’t it just too hot here? While I was lost in thought, I moved my fingers carelessly, even though I’d noticed all those signals. Moving down from my lower abdomen, I lightly rubbed near my clitoris with my fingertips.... In the exact same way I had whenever I was curious about "why on earth people masturbate."

It had always just been painful whenever I touched my clitoris....

.......

....

“......? ...? .... ......?”

...It had only been painful. This time, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠before the sensation of pain, a strange sensation, the first of its kind in my life, began to play with my body as it pleased.

“Ugh...? Eek......?!”

A pleasure like an electric current passing through my body at will. My thighs and toes, which would have been lying still if it were normal, trembled and curled up due to the pleasure. My brain shouted belatedly. This is strange. You shouldn’t do this. You should stop touching it now. If you keep touching it, your brain will burn black. No, it’s already burned out. You’ll become an idiot who lives only to touch your clitoris.

At the same time, what I felt was the sensation of my thighs squeezing my hand tightly from both sides. Just as a hand reaching too close to a hot fire recoils on its own, my soft thighs had squeezed my hand tightly, blocking it from ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠moving.

“Haak...? Haa...?”

...Perhaps survival instinct feels something like this. I pulled my hand out from my stiff, trembling thighs, sat up on the bed, and stared at the fingers that had been pressing on my clitoris. There was nothing special. Except for the red marks caused by being pressed by my thighs, they looked exactly like my fingers as I always saw them. There was no such thing as vaginal fluid stretching out like in the lewd videos I’d seen. Not even fluid; just a faint moisture that I suspected was sweat.

“......”

If so, then touching it until my hand ended up like that meant.... It must mean it feels so good that I could die, right?

“......”

Gulp, gulp, I swallowed my saliva and moved my hand down toward my lower abdomen once more. And instead of sliding my hand in like before, I hooked my thumb and stripped off my pants and underwear all at once, throwing them to the side of the bed. The relatively cool air of the bedroom touched my legs and my embarrassing opening.

“Ee, ugh....”

With the sound of my heart pounding against my eardrums, I dragged my fingers down. ...My clitoris, I shouldn’t touch it. If my fingers touch it again, I might die. No, I will die. Definitely. Even now, when I’m just pressing the area around my clitoris with my fingertips, my brain is tingling. If I press down on my clitoris in this state....

Absolutely not. So, for now, I’ll soothe this heat by touching somewhere other than my clitoris. ...By tormenting the narrow vaginal opening between the cracks.

“Ugh, ah...? ...Ugh....”

The vaginal opening looked too narrow to even shove a single middle finger into. As I rubbed my fingertips over it like a feather, an incredibly embarrassing moan leaked from my lips. I wondered if it was a moan of pleasure, but I honestly didn’t know. It was just a sound that came out because my lungs were pushing air out on their own every time my fingertips brushed the opening. It took another 10 seconds for me to realize that people usually call that a "moan."

“Haak...! Hak...?! Haa.... Ha...?”

My fingers, which had only been lightly brushing near the opening, finally exerted force to enter inside for the first time. ...As soon as I entered slightly, I felt something at my fingertips, and because I was scared, and because it felt incredibly good, I judged that this was still not okay and pulled my fingers out.

Because it took exactly 10 more seconds to do that.

“....... ....”

My breathing had become ragged in an instant. I tried to calm it down, staring for a long time at my fingers, which were slightly wet with fluid. ...Realizing, belatedly, that the heat in my body had almost vanished.