CHAPTER 40: CHAPTER 40: NEW MILF UNLOCKED(#3:MAYUMI)

The morning after Reina’s night of vulnerability didn’t feel like an ordinary morning to Renji.

It wasn’t the silence of loneliness or the quiet before another storm. No, this silence carried the taste of momentum, of progress. It was the stillness of a blade being sharpened on a whetstone, every pass making him deadlier.

Renji stretched lazily on his futon, body still humming from the memory of Reina’s warmth pressed against him, the sound of her voice gasping his name in the darkness. His lips curved at the thought. For her, the school nurse, mature, gentle, but locked in chains of shame, to open up the way she had, to moan freely under him... that was more than sex. That was victory.

Not the kind of victory that ended, but one that stacked. It was fuel.

He dressed in his uniform with practiced ease, slinging his bag over his shoulder before leaving the apartment. The city greeted him in its usual rhythm, bikes whizzing by, shopkeepers raising shutters, the scent of grilled skewers wafting faintly from a stand that opened early.

But at the school gates, Renji noticed something different.

The air wasn’t the same lethargic fog of half-asleep students. Instead, it carried an edge of tension, excitement, anticipation. A buzz, like a current in the crowd.

He quickly caught the reason: banners being put up for the Sports Festival. Students carried poles, balls, cones, and rolled-out mats, buzzing with chatter about the competitions. Some whined, others looked fired up, but all of them moved under a kind of energy that made the usual routine feel alive.

Renji paused at the gate, smirking.

Sports Festival, huh? Perfect stage for chaos. Perfect place for sparks to fly.

And as if on cue—

Pweeeeeet!

A sharp whistle blast cut through the courtyard like a blade through silk. Students froze, startled, and then scurried like startled animals into some kind of order. The source of the sound strode across the yard, commanding the entire space with her presence.

Coach Mayumi.

She wasn’t new, but every time she stepped into view, she had a way of feeling like a fresh storm rolling in.

She was tall, at least a head above most of the students and carried herself with a confidence that came not from arrogance but from absolute control. Her skin, kissed by the sun, gleamed faintly with health, and her face was striking: sharp cheekbones, piercing eyes that could cut straight through excuses, and lips that pressed in a stern line.

Her hair, a deep shade of brown, was tied up in a high ponytail. Stray strands slipped free, brushing against her sweat-sheened forehead and cheeks as if to remind everyone that under the strict veneer, there was undeniable feminine beauty.

She wore a fitted black tracksuit with white stripes running down the sleeves and legs. It hugged her figure not indecently, but enough that anyone with eyes could appreciate the shape of her body. Toned thighs, strong calves, and the kind of tight, firm ass that came only from years of athletic training. Her chest strained faintly against the zipper of her jacket, not exaggerated like Reina’s or Rika’s, but full and natural, carried with pride.

When she walked, it wasn’t a stroll. It was a stride, purposeful, commanding, each step landing like the steady drum of a war march. She didn’t need to demand attention. It was given to her the moment she entered the scene.

Renji felt his lips curl into a grin.

So this is the school’s iron wall, huh?

The system inside him hummed faintly but didn’t flare. No sudden "MILF detected," no seductive whisper urging him toward conquest. That alone was unusual.

Instead, it was as though the system was watching silently, observing. Almost wary.

"Line up!" Mayumi barked, her voice cracking like thunder across the yard. Students scrambled to obey, shoes scuffing against the pavement as they tried to get into neat rows.

"Faster!

Do you think stamina grows on its own?

Do you think teamwork falls from the damn sky?

Move it!"

Her tone wasn’t cruel, it was strict, sharp, the kind of voice that demanded effort and punished laziness. Yet, despite the harshness, not a single student hated her for it. Fear her? Yes. Respect her? Absolutely. But dislike? Never.

Because Coach Mayumi was fair. She pushed, but she never mocked. She demanded, but she rewarded results.

Renji’s smirk deepened. He leaned against a tree at the edge of the courtyard, watching her command the students like a general with her soldiers.

That fire in her eyes... She’s not just some gym teacher.

The way her voice carried, the way her body moved, the aura she gave off, it all screamed of someone who used to be more. A professional athlete, maybe. Someone who’d seen glory and loss in equal measure.

Renji knew that look. He’d seen it in soldiers, in veterans, in people who carried the weight of failure heavier than medals.

But then—

"Oi! Sakamoto!"

His musings snapped when her voice cracked across the yard, aimed directly at him. Her eyes, sharp as knives, pinned him from across the space.

A ripple of whispers spread through the students. Some looked amused, others nervous.

"Since when does a soldier stand around gawking instead of running laps?" she barked.

Renji scratched the back of his head, grinning with infuriating ease.

"Since the coach herself was distracting me," he shot back smoothly.

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Students froze. A few boys buried their faces in their hands, muttering about how suicidal he was.

But Mayumi didn’t flinch. Her eyes narrowed, lips curling faintly—not in amusement, but in the kind of look predators gave prey that amused them briefly before the kill.

"Ten extra laps," she snapped. "Now."

The laughter died instantly. Silence blanketed the students, who waited to see if Renji would push his luck further.

Renji’s grin only widened.

"Guess I’ll be the star runner today, then."

He jogged toward the track, slow enough that she’d know he wasn’t rattled in the slightest. And as he moved, he could feel her gaze linger on him a little longer than necessary.

Not with softness. Not with lust. With calculation.

So that’s how you want to play it, Coach? Renji thought, his smirk sharpening. Fine. I’ll let you think you’ve got the reins, for now.

The whistle blew again, loud and sharp. But beneath that sound, Renji felt the faintest stir of the system, a pulse, not loud, not urgent, but there. Like a spark waiting to catch.

Mayumi wasn’t unlocked yet. But she was inevitable.

Renji hit the track with easy strides, not the frantic pace of someone being punished, but the steady rhythm of someone in complete control of his body. Each footfall was measured, balanced, smooth enough that some students began to glance at him, whispering under their breath.

"He’s not even sweating."

"Is he for real?"

"Ten laps and he looks like he’s out for a stroll..."

Renji tuned it out, lips curved faintly. He wasn’t doing this to impress them. He was doing it because he knew exactly who was watching.

Coach Mayumi stood at the center of the yard, arms folded across her chest, whistle hanging around her neck, eyes never leaving the group and especially not him. She didn’t move much, didn’t raise her voice beyond what was necessary, but her presence dominated the space like gravity.

Every time he passed by her, Renji tilted his head, flashing that half-grin of his. He didn’t speak, didn’t taunt, not yet. He simply let the weight of his gaze brush against her. A silent game.

By the fifth lap, his shirt clung faintly to his back, damp with sweat, but his breathing remained steady. Controlled. He looked more like an athlete in training than a student being punished.

And Mayumi noticed.

Her eyes narrowed, tracking the way his body moved with precision. His posture was perfect, his breathing sharp, his rhythm unbroken. He wasn’t bluffing. He wasn’t even pushing himself.

This boy...

She blew the whistle again, signaling for another group of students to swap into relay drills. Her voice cut the air with commands, her body moving with that commanding aura, but part of her mind stayed hooked on the boy running like he’d been born for the field.

Renji caught that flicker in her gaze, subtle as it was. The way her eyes lingered a moment longer than necessary. The faint tightening of her lips.

He smirked as he passed her again.

Gotcha. You’re watching me now, Coach. Not just as a student. Not just as a nuisance. You’re curious.

By the ninth lap, sweat began to drip down his temple, but his stride hadn’t faltered once. His muscles thrummed with warmth, his body alive with that addictive burn. It reminded him of training runs in another life, heavy gear, battlefield heat, lungs screaming for air. Compared to that, this was child’s play.

This was war.....real war!