Izanagi dropped his backpack next to a desk in the back row. Low profile, he thought to himself. That's how he got through secondary school, and as his first day at university, why should that be any different?
But, it would be different. Different for Izanagi and, he had to keep reminding himself, for everyone else, too. This was university, and not just any university. This was SOAR, the most lauded and prestigious university in the world. If you took the Forbes 500 list and did a reverse ANOVA statistical test to find the single greatest predictor of their success, it was attendance at SOAR.
Izanagi was no stranger to high pressure situations. He had graduated top of his class, from the most rigorous secondary school in all of Kyoto. He practically had his pick of universities to attend. Naturally, his mother had immediately suggested SOAR. And yeah, he got in. But, well, it was different here. At most universities, Izanagi would still be exceptional. But here? Even Izanagi only tested in the 30th percentile on the entrance exams. He knew that fact without a doubt; he had hacked SOAR's records just to check.
It was with these thoughts that Izanagi slumped into his chair in the back of the classroom. The classroom was small, 25 desks lined up in five neat rows of five. There were no big lecture halls at SOAR; one of many illustrious promises you would see on any given advertisement for the school. Izanagi could recite most of them by heart, and would groan when we got to the catch phrase at the end, "Soar to the top at SOAR University".
Class was set to start in the next five minutes. Most of the desks had been filled, and Izanagi was comforted by the fact that most students seemed as uncomfortable as him; awkwardly shuffling books around, mindlessly scrolling on their phones, and making every effort to avoid eye contact with any other student. Where was the teacher though?
SOAR employed less than thirty instructors, many of them leaders in their field and possessing degrees from multiple disciplines. SOAR also boasted having administrators, Principal Felix and Headmistress Roxanne, that were also instructors.
Moments before the clock struck 10:00 a.m. Izanagi heard the click of heels, perfectly synced strides, in the hallway outside the classroom. On the hour exactly the instructor for Literary Interpretation walked into the room.
Silence blanketed the room. The shuffling, clicking and murmuring from before evacuated, leaving nothing but awe in the air. Izanagi's instructor was Headmistress Roxanne. He recognized her from the commercials, but only barely. On television the Headmistress wore a woman's dress suit, her blond hair straight around her stern but friendly face. The picture of professionalism, nothing less than what Izanagi would expect from one half of the masterminds behind the greatest university in the world. The woman before him, although technically the same, could not have carried herself any more differently.
Izanagi was correct in his guess that the clicking he heard were high heels, and they belonged to the Headmistress. Her legs were covered in tights that slipped up her thick thighs, thighs that supported generous hips. A black skirt gripped her sides tightly, covering only what was absolutely necessary and nothing more. Izanagi was stunned by just how much was hidden behind modest clothing and prudish camera angles.
The Headmistress strode to her desk, turned around to face the whiteboard, and wrote "HEADMISTRESS" across it in all capital letters. Izanagi took a glance around the room, and took note that every student, the men and women, were staring at the same thing he was: The Headmistress' round, voluptuous behind. Her skirt seemed to get caught on it, and was just inches from revealing so much more.
In a flash the Headmistress turned around. She wore a coy smile, as if she knew what she was doing. It took at least a full second for the class to realize she had even turned around; she relished their awe.
"Good morning class. I am your Literary Interpretation instructor. I am also the Headmistress of this university, and as such you will address me in that way."
She spoke with a confidence gained from experience being the center of attention in any room. Her words broke Izanagi out of his daze, but her eyes pulled him back. Hazel in color, they seemed warm and inviting at first glance, but a voice in the back of Izanagi's head told him there was poison behind her eyes. That her warmth was calculated. Her hair, dyed purple with streaks of blond and silver in it, was pulled back in a bun, giving her students the feeling her eyes could see them anywhere, that this classroom was her kingdom and they were merely her subjects. The idea scared Izanagi, but it made him feel something else, too. Something akin to excitement.
The Headmistress put her hands on her hip and scowled, "I said GOOD MORNING."
The shock was audible through the classroom. Some students coughed, others murmured good morning, but all of them took note of the Headmistress' stance. With her hands on her hips her back was arched, and she had on display her impressive bust. Izanagi felt a rising in his jeans as he saw the buttons on the Headmistress' blouse struggle against the strain her chest put on them. My god he thought to himself, they let people teach here dressed like that? How does anyone concentrate! Izanagi was not the first to notice the light pink hues of a brassiere beneath the Headmistress' white blouse, imposed with fruitless task of containment.
Izanagi was overwhelmed. His experience with the opposite sex, and the verb sex, was limited to lewd manga series his friends from high school had impressed on him. He had vocabulary to memorize, tests to study for, languages to comprehend. He had never even kissed a girl, let alone been in the company of a girl, a woman more accurately, like Headmistress Roxanne. Izanagi only pleasured himself when the lust distracted him from his studies. Izanagi found himself significantly distracted.
"Very quiet. I can understand that, being your first day and all. But here at SOAR," the Headmistress smirked, "We are tasked with not just cultivating your intelligence. SOAR graduates are known to be well-rounded individuals, not just intellectually, but emotionally, socially, and physically." Izanagi felt the Headmistress' eyes on his lap at her last statement, where his hands were lumped together doing their best to contain his erection. "I expect a bit more camaraderie, between yours peers, and with me, in the future." The Headmistress held a smile and scanned the classroom. And with that, Izanagi's first lesson at SOAR University began.
"Take a seat, Izanagi." a disembodied voice commanded. He recognized it as the Headmistress' voice, and it seemed to be coming from a chair facing a window behind her desk.
"Thank you, Headmistress," Izanagi murmured as he took his seat. From here, the office looked pretty typical for an administrator's office. Papers were scattered around the Headmistress' desk. Her degrees, doctorates in English, Creative Writing, Children's Literature, Education, and Instructional Design hung on placards above her desk. A photo of her standing alongside the Principal, appearing much more the commercial version of herself, hung on the wall.
"Top of your class. Most elite high school in Kyoto," the Headmistress announced.
"Yes, ma'am," Izanagi stammered. It was true; why was he so nervous?
"Do you remember what I said this morning, Izanagi?", she demanded as she swiveled around in her chair and stood. She was dressed in the same clothes from class that morning, loose pieces of hair had escaped her bun, and Izanagi noticed immediately her blouse had the top two buttons undone.
"I'll take your silence as a no," Shit, had she asked a question? Izanagi thought. "This morning I said that here at SOAR university, we educate, we produce well rounded graduates. People that will be successful in many, in any, walk of life they so choose to follow." The Headmistress strode around to the front of her desk with a folder in her hand. My file, Izanagi thought. What is going on?
The Headmistress leaned against her desk, facing Izanagi. "This, right here," she waved the folder, "Is our file on you, Izanagi. Very impressive. Intellectually speaking, you'll do very well here at SOAR."
Izanagi smiled nervously. Although her words were kind, he did not feel like it was a compliment.
"But, as I explained earlier, intellect is not the only thing we instruct our students in." The Headmistress snapped his folder shut and set it down on her desk. "Based on our exchange today, Izanagi, and your conduct in class, I'm worried that there are, how do I put this... deficiencies in your previous education."
Deficiencies? "Headmistress, I-"
"Izanagi, please, let me finish. You are not the first student we have accepted with this problem, and I doubt you will be the last." The Headmistress' voice tilted upward as she spoke. What did she have in mind?
"These areas that are lacking, Izanagi, they will be challenging for you at first, I imagine. But, with enough practice and study, I think you will find them to be some of the most satisfying parts of your life."
The Headmistress stopped and looked at Izanagi, smiling, as if goading him on. Izanagi didn't know what else to do.
"Well, thank you Headmistress. What do I need to do? Is there extra tutoring hours I need to attend, an extra section of class-"
The Headmistress put her finger on Izanagi's mouth. Her perfume washed over him as she drew near. She moved like a ghost, her finger on his mouth, her face inches from his, and in his peripherals her breasts heaved against her shirt after the movement.
