You didn’t know how she pulled it off—but somehow, somehow, Rangiku got herself assigned as your partner in gym class.

And the outfit? A way-too-tight school gym tee, her large chest nearly bursting out of it, and the shortest pair of red bloomers you’d ever seen. Her curves were on full display, and she knew it.

Every stretch, every lap, every break between exercises—hug.

During push-ups: “You look so strong~” hug.

During water break: “You’re sweating… let me wipe you off, sweetheart.” hug.

And she wasn’t just hugging normally—she pressed those massive breasts into your chest each time, letting them mold to your body like pillows of temptation.

When the coach asked her why she wasn’t doing jumping jacks, she pouted and clung to you. “But I don’t wanna… I just wanna cheer for him.”

Everyone stared. Boys were furious. Girls were scandalized.

Rangiku? She gave you another hug. And a soft kiss on the cheek.

You were never getting through this class alive.