Kyouya's eyes, filled with that cold, assessing gleam, returned to the stack of papers. He shuffled through them with a practiced efficiency, pulling out several others, his expression now one of mild disappointment. A slight, satisfied smile touched his lips as he considered Mei's response, a silent acknowledgement of her evolving depth and fervent promise. It was a new, interesting variable in his grand design.
His gaze then sharpened, pulling away from her to focus back on the task at hand, the raw intellectual output of his chosen subjects.
Kyouya's eyes, now filled with that cold, assessing gleam, returned to the stack of papers. He shuffled through them with a practiced efficiency, pulling out several others, his expression now one of mild disappointment.
"Then there are these," he stated, his voice a flat dismissal. He held up Nao's paper first. "She got the initial setup correct, but then got bogged down in computational errors. Simple arithmetic mistakes. It suggests a lack of fundamental rigor, or perhaps a mind that buckles under pressure. She understood the concept but couldn't execute it precisely. A potentially capable mind, but one hampered by sloppiness."
Next, he tossed Haruna's sheet onto the pile he deemed 'unsatisfactory'. "Haruna," he mused, a faint sigh escaping him. "Her work is... enthusiastic. Filled with many attempts, many different approaches, but ultimately, none of them converged effectively. It speaks of energy, but a severe lack of structured thought. She simply throws ideas at the wall, hoping one sticks, rather than systematically dissecting the problem. Too much brute force, too little refined intellect."
He picked up Scarlet's paper, his fingers drumming lightly against the page. "Scarlet's is peculiar. She seems to have understood only fragmented pieces of the problem. Her solutions are incomplete, jumping from one idea to another without fully developing any. It hints at a strong intuition, perhaps, but one that is undisciplined and easily distracted. She lacks the sustained focus to delve deeply into complex issues."
Finally, he presented Sayaka's paper, holding it between two fingers as if it might contaminate the others. "And Sayaka. This one is the most telling. Her answers are almost entirely incorrect, bordering on nonsensical. It suggests a fundamental misunderstanding of the core principles, or perhaps a complete disinterest in the exercise itself. Either way, a significant limitation." He dropped the paper with a soft thud onto the growing 'discard' pile. "These individuals, while possessing some rudimentary qualities, lack the comprehensive intellectual capacity required for my… future endeavors. They are, shall we say, flawed data."
Mei, still intimately curled against him, had listened to his detached assessment, feeling the subtle shifts in his body, the faint tightening of his muscles with each dismissal. As he finished, a soft, purring sound escaped her throat. She shifted, raising herself slightly, her hand reaching up to cup his jaw, her thumb brushing against his stubble. Her eyes, filled with a newfound, fervent clinginess, gazed up at him.
"Perhaps, Kyouya-sama," she murmured, her voice laced with seductive warmth, "these flaws can be... compensated for. After all, even perfectly objective data requires fuel, does it not?" Without waiting for a direct answer, she leaned in, her lips finding the taut skin of his chest. Her tongue traced a circle around one of his nipples, her gaze rising to meet his, inviting, daring. "Let me offer you a different kind of sustenance. Something more... primal." Her mouth hovered, a silent question, yet her intent was clear. She sought to draw him back into the purely physical, offering herself as a remedy for his intellectual frustrations, a devotion that promised to soothe and satisfy his every instinct.
Kyouya's eyes narrowed slightly, a thoughtful glint replacing the analytical focus. He processed her offer, not just for its carnal implication, but for the deeper meaning embedded within her words, within her newly unleashed desire to provide. It was a new variable, a different kind of submission infused with an active, almost predatory warmth. His lips curved into a slow, satisfied smile.
"An interesting hypothesis, Mei," he murmured, his fingers threading into her hair once more, this time with a possessive tenderness. "Let us test its validity."
Without another word, he shifted, pulling her closer still. His head descended, not demanding, but accepting the offering. His mouth, hot and wet, enveloped her nipple, drawing her in with a firm, rhythmic suction. A deep moan rumbled from Mei's chest, a sound of primal satisfaction that vibrated through Kyouya's own body.
His tongue swirled, teasing, circling, as he began to suckle with a fierce devotion, a passionate urgency that mirrored the intensity of her new emotional awakening. He felt a deep, instinctive connection, a primitive bond forged in the humid air, as he gave himself over to this new form of worship, pulling from her a satisfaction that was both physical and deeply possessive.
He savored the soft, pliant texture of her skin, the subtle taste that was uniquely Mei, losing himself in the deep, rhythmic pull. The world outside the confines of the bed, outside the intimate circle of their bodies, seemed to vanish. Every analytical thought, every calculation, receded, replaced by the purely sensory, the raw, undeniable pleasure of her yielding flesh in his mouth.
Mei still felt him suckling, the firm, rhythmic pull on her nipple a direct line to the core of her being. A deep, languid contentment spread through her, replacing the sharp edge of earlier desires. The world narrowed to this singular sensation, a profound quiet descending, a "hush" that enveloped her completely. She simply existed in that moment, enjoying the exquisite texture of his mouth, the warm friction, the subtle pressure that seemed to draw all tension from her body. It was a profound, almost hypnotic pleasure, and she reveled in it, letting herself float in the intoxicating intimacy.
Then, jarringly, the shrill, insistent ring of a phone shattered the intoxicating silence. It cut through the humid air like a siren, a harsh intrusion from the world he'd temporarily forgotten. Kyouya's body tensed, the sudden noise ripping him from the depths of his pleasure. He pulled his mouth from her, a low growl of annoyance rumbling in his chest. The screen of his phone, lying face-up on the bedside table, glowed with a single, dreaded contact.
"Geez." Kyouya muttered, the irritation evident in his tone as he glared at the glowing screen.
Mei, still flushed and breathless beneath him, propped herself on an elbow, her eyes curious. "Who is it, Kyouya-sama?" she murmured, her voice a husky whisper.