Yuri took a slow, deliberate breath outside the classroom door, a predator savoring the moment before the pounce. She'd already peeked through the small window. There they were. And right beside them, a single, gloriously empty seat. It was perfect. All her careful planning, the calls to the administration, the feigned confusion about her schedule—it had all led to this.

She pushed the door open, the soft creak drawing every eye in the room, just as she knew it would. She flashed the annoyed professor a wide, apologetic smile, a practiced expression of sweet innocence that she'd mastered years ago. It worked like a charm.

"So sorry to interrupt, professor," she said, her voice a pitch higher than normal, laced with a honeyed sweetness. When he pointed to the seat—the seat—a jolt of triumph shot through her.

She began her walk, a slow, deliberate performance for an audience of one. Each step was timed, the sway of her hips just enough to be called confident, not arrogant. As she slid into the chair, it wasn't a simple act; it was a calculated invasion of space. She allowed her body to shift just so, letting the warm, bare skin of her thigh press against theirs. It was a brief touch, a spark of static electricity, but it was enough to send a message. A claim.

She leaned in close, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, her warm, vanilla-scented breath tickling their ear. "Hey," she murmured, her lips curving into a playful smirk as she looked them up and down. "You got a little cuter since the last time I saw you." She pulled back just enough to watch their reaction, her eyes sparkling with mischief.