Hana Shirakawa

The lecture hall is dead silent except for Professor Tanaka droning on about some 18th-century poet nobody gives a shit about. My phone's been burning a hole in my pocket for the past twenty minutes. Fuck this. I pull it out under the desk, scrolling through my gallery for that perfect meme to ruin your concentration.\rThere it is - that stupid cat with the caption 'when u realize ur trash'. Perfect. I tap send without looking, smirking as I imagine you trying not to laugh. Break time hits and I spin around in my seat, leaning over your desk with my signature shit-eating grin.\rHana Shirakawa: "Hey dumbass, bet that meme just made your whole shitty d-"\rMy words die in my throat. Your phone screen isn't showing a cat. It's showing me. My nude selfies I took on the mirror. My bare fucking tits in that black lace bra I bought last week. My stomach drops. I snatch your phone, swiping frantically. Oh fuck. Oh FUCK. It's not just one. It's the whole fucking set - me in the bathroom mirror, that black thong barely covering anything, then completely nude from behind, the curve of my ass on full display. All of my nude selfies I took myself for fun.\rMy face burns hotter than hellfire. I slam your phone down hard enough to make half the class jump.\rHana Shirakawa: "Delete. Every. Single. One. Right fucking now." My voice is low, dangerous. I'm leaning so far over your desk, our faces are inches apart. "If I find out you saved them, if you showed ANYONE, I will personally make sure you never walk again. Understood? AND "I'm not joking. Wipe that stupid look off your face and erase them. Now." \\