Chapter 3: The Lurking Shadow

Riko, her brow furrowed in concentration, scans the list of festival supplies. The upcoming Seiryu Festival is a major event, a showcase of the school's talent and prestige, and as student council president, Riko feels the weight of responsibility on her shoulders.

The Seiryu Festival, held annually in the spring, was a grand affair. It was a chance for the students to showcase their talents, to compete in various competitions, and to celebrate the school's rich history and traditions. There were music performances, theatrical productions, art exhibitions, and sporting events. The festival grounds were transformed into a vibrant wonderland, with food stalls, game booths, and dazzling decorations. It was a time for the students to let loose, to forge new friendships, and to create memories that would last a lifetime.

But for Riko, the festival was also a source of immense pressure. As student council president, she was responsible for overseeing every aspect of the event, from planning and budgeting to coordinating with the various student groups and ensuring that everything ran smoothly. She was determined to make this year's festival the most successful one yet, a testament to her leadership and dedication.

She pushes open the heavy door of the storage room, a musty scent of old cardboard and forgotten equipment filling her nostrils. The room is dimly lit, with rows of shelves stacked high with boxes and crates. Riko navigates the cluttered aisles, her fingers tracing the labels on the boxes as she searches for the items she needs.

Unbeknownst to her, a pair of eyes watches her from the shadows. The janitor, a gruff, middle-aged man with a leering gaze, has been observing Riko for weeks. He's seen her around the school, her beauty a beacon in the sterile hallways. He's heard whispers of her family's wealth, her intelligence, her popularity. And he's become obsessed.

He watches her now, his eyes tracing the curve of her hips as she bends down to retrieve a box, the swell of her breasts beneath her blouse, the delicate nape of her neck exposed as she gathers her hair into a ponytail. He licks his lips, a surge of lust coursing through him.

Riko, oblivious to the lurking presence, continues her search. She finds the box she's looking for and lifts it with a grunt, her muscles straining slightly beneath the weight. As she turns to leave, she catches a glimpse of movement in the shadows.

"Hello?" she calls out, her voice echoing through the empty room. "Is someone there?"

The janitor freezes, his heart pounding in his chest. He hesitates for a moment, then steps out of the shadows, a forced smile plastered on his face.

"Just me, Miss Riko," he says, his voice gruff. "Didn't mean to scare you."

Riko relaxes slightly, but a flicker of unease remains. She's always found the janitor a bit… unsettling. There's something about his eyes, the way they seem to linger a little too long, the way they seem to undress her with their gaze.

"What are you doing here?" she asks, her voice firm.

"Just checking on things, Miss Riko," he replies, his eyes darting nervously around the room. "Making sure everything's in order for the festival."

Riko nods, unconvinced. She clutches the box to her chest, her body tensing instinctively. She wants to leave, to get away from this man and his unsettling presence.

"Well, I'll be going then," she says, turning towards the door.

"Of course, Miss Riko," the janitor says, his voice laced with a false politeness. "Let me get that door for you."

He rushes forward, his hand brushing against Riko's arm as he opens the door. She flinches, a shiver running down her spine. She hurries out of the room, her heart pounding in her chest.

The janitor watches her go, his eyes filled with a mixture of lust and frustration.

The janitor, named Goro, leans against the wall, a greasy smirk plastered across his face. His uniform, perpetually stained with grime and sweat, clings to his lanky frame, doing little to conceal his less-than-impressive physique. His hair, thin and greasy, is combed back in a futile attempt to hide a receding hairline. His face is a roadmap of hard living – deep lines etched around his eyes and mouth, a broken nose that healed crookedly, and a scattering of pockmarks that testify to a youthful bout with acne. His teeth, yellowed and uneven, are visible when he grins, which he does often, especially when he's around the girls.

Goro's eyes, small and beady, are his most striking feature. They possess a predatory glint, a constant hunger that makes those around him uneasy. They dart around, always searching, always appraising, always lingering a little too long on the curves and contours of the female form.

He's not a stupid man. He knows he's not attractive. He knows he's not rich. He knows he'll never be in the same league as the students at Seiryu Academy. But that doesn't stop him from dreaming. He fantasizes about the girls, their soft skin, their sweet scent, their privileged lives. He imagines himself with them, possessing them, dominating them. It's a fantasy that fuels his obsession, a dark desire that simmers beneath the surface of his gruff exterior.

He glances down at his phone again, his thumb caressing the screen. The photos of Riko are still there, a constant reminder of his obsession. He imagines her in his arms, her soft body pressed against his, her sweet scent filling his nostrils. He closes his eyes, lost in his fantasy, a low groan escaping his lips. He knows it will never happen, but the fantasy is enough. For now, it's enough.

They are photos of Riko, taken just moments ago in the storage room. Despite the dim light, the images are disturbingly clear, capturing intimate details of her figure. One shot shows her bending over, the thin fabric of her skirt stretching taut across her rounded bottom, the outline of her panties clearly visible beneath. Another angle reveals a generous glimpse of cleavage as her blouse gapes slightly, the swell of her breasts pushing against the fabric. He even managed to snap a picture as she adjusted her posture, revealing a hint of smooth thigh and the delicate lace trim of her panties. He zooms in, his eyes lingering on the curve of her hip, the swell of her breast, the exposed strip of skin above her stocking tops. He imagines running his hand along her smooth skin, feeling the warmth of her body.

A notification pings on his phone. It's a message from Hiro. "Got anything good?" it reads.

The janitor smirks. He knows what Hiro wants. He's been providing him with these kinds of photos for months now. Hiro, with his obsession for the rich girls of Seiryu, has been using the janitor as his personal photographer. The janitor, always eager to earn a few extra bucks, has been more than willing to oblige.

He quickly selects a few of the best shots of Riko and sends them to Hiro. He knows Hiro will be pleased. Riko is one of his favorites, a prime target for his fantasies.

A few minutes later, Hiro arrives at the storage room, a discreet knock echoing through the quiet hallway. The janitor opens the door, a sly smile on his face.

"I got what you wanted," he whispers, gesturing towards his phone.

Hiro's eyes light up as he takes the phone. He scrolls through the first few images, a familiar mix of anticipation and lust swirling within him. Then he freezes, his eyes widening in disbelief. Riko. He's staring at Riko, her body exposed in ways he never imagined. He scrolls through the photos again, each one more revealing than the last. He can barely contain his excitement. This is a jackpot, a goldmine. Riko is the most sought-after girl in his secret group chat, her photos commanding the highest price. He can already imagine the frenzy these images will create.

"This… this is incredible," he stammers, his voice hoarse with excitement. "I didn't… I didn't expect…" He trails off, unable to articulate his thoughts.

Goro smirks, enjoying Hiro's reaction. "She's a special one, isn't she?" he says, his voice dripping with insinuation.

Hiro nods, his eyes glued to the phone. "This is… this is beyond anything I could have hoped for," he says, his voice filled with awe. "Only the highest bidders will get to see these."

He looks up at Goro, his eyes gleaming with gratitude and something else, something calculating. "You've done well, Goro," he says, his voice low and sincere. "Very well. This is going to be a good business for both of us."

He hands the phone back to Goro, a wad of bills already in his hand. "Here's your payment. And a bonus." He claps Goro on the shoulder, a gesture that feels more like a threat than a reward. "Keep up the good work."

Hiro turns and leaves, his mind already racing with possibilities. He can't wait to exploit this new advantage, to use these photos to further his plans,