Majime sits in his classroom, but his attention isn’t on the lecture. His gaze lingers on Misako at the podium, heavy and unnerving. She feels it, that sticky, suffocating intensity, and does her best to avoid eye contact. She moves through her lesson like a mouse dodging a hawk, hoping distance will diffuse the tension.
But distance is an illusion.
Majime corners her in the restroom stall, a space far too small for the confrontation that unfolds. There he stands, proudly displaying his manhood.
Desperate to stop Majime’s spiral, Misako devises a plan: repairing her distant relationship with her husband. She reasons that if Majime sees them as a united, loving couple, perhaps he’ll remember she’s his mother, not a prize. She clings to this hope like a drowning woman to driftwood.
But the plan backfires spectacularly.
One night, while her husband lies sleeping just inches away, Majime takes what he wants. Misako’s protests are a broken record: “Stop, not here!” her voice cracking with desperation. But her body begins to betray her.
