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Description
The gym teacher always pushed first years harder than any other class at Cherry Blossom Secondary. The class of about 25 boys did push-ups in the hot sun in the middle of the school's football field, while the girl's varsity cross country team ran laps around the track. Takahiro's arms felt limp after his fifteenth push-up and he longed for the teacher to blow his whistle. With each rep the man shouted yet another number, and Takahiro began to feel lightheaded. He was a scrawny boy for his age, a little shorter than most, and not at all athletically inclined. A girl on the varsity team kept looking over at the group with every lap she ran. He could feel the stares of the team, and swore he heard some gossiping under their heavy breaths as they ran by. Takahiro had always been picked on, so he assumed anything he heard or saw was always directed at him.

When the teacher counted to twenty he blew his whistle and the class of boys stood up, many groaning and grunting rubbing sore arms, and others seeming like it had only been a warm up. The teacher dismissed the class, and the boys left in several groups, many of them had become friends over the course of the school year. Takahiro walked alone, and scuffed a foot along the grass kicking a dirt clod out of the way, he rubbed his sore arms, and stretched his back. He had only stepped off the grass and onto the oval-shaped track's red surface when one of the varsity runners stopped in front of him.

"Hello kohai," she said wiping sweat from her forehead. Her arms and legs glistened with sweat in the high, early afternoon sun, and her shirt was drenched. "You probably don't remember me."

"I-I don't, sorry," stammered Takahiro and started to walk away when the girl walked in front of him and impeded his path.

The coach blew her whistle and the rest of the girls ran past, one of them calling out for her to go with them.

"Come on, Ichika!" shouted one of the girls.

"I'll be right there!" shouted Ichika back and waved. She wiped her forehead with a small towel, and looked at Takahiro who just gazed at the ground.

"So, a few weeks ago in art class the students had gone out to a break and you stayed behind to tidy up," she began. "You thought you were alone, and you walked over to the shoe storage station and grabbed a shoe from there and smelled it."

Takahiro blinked not recalling at first, and then began to turn pale remembering that he had seen Ichika standing in the doorway, looking at him in a perplexed way. Ichika laughed.

"I never told anyone but I did find it hilarious that we would have a foot pervert in our midst," said Ichika trying to stifle a laugh as the boy three years her junior started shaking. She took off one of her red running shoes and looked around. "So then I realized that I had to find you at the right time and ask you something."

"A-ask me what?" said Takahiro, clenching his fists.

"Do you like them really smelly or just like a bit?" Ichika let out a roaring laugh.

Takahiro felt his eyes burning. How could he have done such a thing? He had always liked feet and the way they smelled but never realized he would end up doing something as odd as sniffing a random girl's shoe while she wasn't around. Ichika wiped her eyes and looked at him and smacked his back.

"If you like them really smelly, and I'm talking hella rank, you'll definitely like mine," she said, holding up her shoe. Takahiro could smell the foul stench from a foot away, a waft of vapor rose from her shoe, and he could see the dark sweaty imprint of her heel on its insole. Ichika sat and crossed her shoe less leg over her knee, her once white sock looking dark and gray from beneath. "I'll tell you what, kohai. I'll let you choose, smell my sock or my shoe and I won't tell anyone about what you did. Or you can walk away and by tomorrow you'll be the school's number one foot sniffer."

Takahiro gulped, this was like choosing his poison. He could tell that she wasn't lying, and even as someone who enjoyed the scent of feet, hers was a bit much. If he stood up, he would be ridiculed tomorrow and beyond. If he smelled her shoe or sock, he might lose his lunch but his dignity would be intact. He exhaled and put his palm out for Ichika to hand him her shoe.

Ichika smirked at him and removed her sock, shoved it in his face and smothered his nose with it, pushing him onto the grass in the process. She held it there for about thirty seconds and let him up. Takahiro started to have a coughing fit and he blew his nose trying to eliminate the odor that somehow seemed trapped in his nostrils. The girl laughed and slapped her thigh.

"That was hilarious!" she said, holding her stomach. "I used to do that to my siblings all the time, and eventually they stopped messing with me because they knew they'd get a face full of foot stink."

Takahiro stood up and started walking away.

"Aww don't be mad kohai," said Ichika watching him walk away. "You're an okay kid. Just don't sniff people's shoes anymore!!

Description
The gym teacher always pushed first years harder than any other class at Cherry Blossom Secondary. The class of about 25 boys did push-ups in the hot sun in the middle of the school's football field, while the girl's varsity cross country team ran laps around the track. Takahiro's arms felt limp after his fifteenth push-up and he longed for the teacher to blow his whistle. With each rep the man shouted yet another number, and Takahiro began to feel lightheaded. He was a scrawny boy for his age, a little shorter than most, and not at all athletically inclined. A girl on the varsity team kept looking over at the group with every lap she ran. He could feel the stares of the team, and swore he heard some gossiping under their heavy breaths as they ran by. Takahiro had always been picked on, so he assumed anything he heard or saw was always directed at him.

When the teacher counted to twenty he blew his whistle and the class of boys stood up, many groaning and grunting rubbing sore arms, and others seeming like it had only been a warm up. The teacher dismissed the class, and the boys left in several groups, many of them had become friends over the course of the school year. Takahiro walked alone, and scuffed a foot along the grass kicking a dirt clod out of the way, he rubbed his sore arms, and stretched his back. He had only stepped off the grass and onto the oval-shaped track's red surface when one of the varsity runners stopped in front of him.

"Hello kohai," she said wiping sweat from her forehead. Her arms and legs glistened with sweat in the high, early afternoon sun, and her shirt was drenched. "You probably don't remember me."

"I-I don't, sorry," stammered Takahiro and started to walk away when the girl walked in front of him and impeded his path.

The coach blew her whistle and the rest of the girls ran past, one of them calling out for her to go with them.

"Come on, Ichika!" shouted one of the girls.

"I'll be right there!" shouted Ichika back and waved. She wiped her forehead with a small towel, and looked at Takahiro who just gazed at the ground.

"So, a few weeks ago in art class the students had gone out to a break and you stayed behind to tidy up," she began. "You thought you were alone, and you walked over to the shoe storage station and grabbed a shoe from there and smelled it."

Takahiro blinked not recalling at first, and then began to turn pale remembering that he had seen Ichika standing in the doorway, looking at him in a perplexed way. Ichika laughed.

"I never told anyone but I did find it hilarious that we would have a foot pervert in our midst," said Ichika trying to stifle a laugh as the boy three years her junior started shaking. She took off one of her red running shoes and looked around. "So then I realized that I had to find you at the right time and ask you something."

"A-ask me what?" said Takahiro, clenching his fists.

"Do you like them really smelly or just like a bit?" Ichika let out a roaring laugh.

Takahiro felt his eyes burning. How could he have done such a thing? He had always liked feet and the way they smelled but never realized he would end up doing something as odd as sniffing a random girl's shoe while she wasn't around. Ichika wiped her eyes and looked at him and smacked his back.

"If you like them really smelly, and I'm talking hella rank, you'll definitely like mine," she said, holding up her shoe. Takahiro could smell the foul stench from a foot away, a waft of vapor rose from her shoe, and he could see the dark sweaty imprint of her heel on its insole. Ichika sat and crossed her shoe less leg over her knee, her once white sock looking dark and gray from beneath. "I'll tell you what, kohai. I'll let you choose, smell my sock or my shoe and I won't tell anyone about what you did. Or you can walk away and by tomorrow you'll be the school's number one foot sniffer."

Takahiro gulped, this was like choosing his poison. He could tell that she wasn't lying, and even as someone who enjoyed the scent of feet, hers was a bit much. If he stood up, he would be ridiculed tomorrow and beyond. If he smelled her shoe or sock, he might lose his lunch but his dignity would be intact. He exhaled and put his palm out for Ichika to hand him her shoe.

Ichika smirked at him and removed her sock, shoved it in his face and smothered his nose with it, pushing him onto the grass in the process. She held it there for about thirty seconds and let him up. Takahiro started to have a coughing fit and he blew his nose trying to eliminate the odor that somehow seemed trapped in his nostrils. The girl laughed and slapped her thigh.

"That was hilarious!" she said, holding her stomach. "I used to do that to my siblings all the time, and eventually they stopped messing with me because they knew they'd get a face full of foot stink."

Takahiro stood up and started walking away.

"Aww don't be mad kohai," said Ichika watching him walk away. "You're an okay kid. Just don't sniff people's shoes anymore!!