(chapter originally written by doragom333 at writing.com)
Fuuka still remained intent on the class, despite being nearly completely exposed. It was by the miraculous chance placement of her notebooks that prevented the teacher from seeing her toplessness, currently all the way from her neck down to her waist, and the apathy of the classmates that prevented them from looking at anything in particular. Only the two culprits knew of their handywork, and though they still found their handiwork a riot, they were starting to get impatient.
After all, what were the odds of this happening? There were only fifteen minutes left, and still no one had noticed? Those small tits of hers had been hanging out, ripe for the gaze of everyone, but no one's looked over here!? It had crossed the point beyond funny to ludicrous for a long while now. And there's no way Fuuka herself couldn't have noticed by now, right? Surely she had to have felt something!? But then again, considering what she could have really been up to during lunch, she probably couldn't feel the difference between naked and clothed. After all, she didn't look sick, so why would she be missing her clothes otherwise if she didn't just take them off and somehow lose them, forcing her to wear her gym clothes instead? Obviously, that had to be the case, because, come on, she isn't wearing any underwear, meaning she had to have taken those off too.
Still, the girls realized, if no one had yet noticed, that would mean that there was time for a little bit more, to make Fuuka's humiliation complete with no escape. With a nod from the leader, the girl with the scissors leaned over towards Fuuka once more. Bringing the scissors in once more, she made cuts along the tops of Fuuka's sleeves up her arms when the girl wasn't writing, which was the hardest part of all. If there was a time for them to be spotted and their cunning ploy to be exposed as Fuuka was now, it would be during these final cuts.
And as it turned out...
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