Fuuka's Infamy

Fuuka Yamagishi awoke as she always did on school mornings: Just a few minutes before her alarm yelled for her to spring into action. She had only heard her alarm a few times, but she always made sure she'd set one, all the same. Even if she never needed to be woken up by one, she knew she was only waking up in anticipation of a sudden noise, and the absence of an alarm would just make her miss class. Swinging her short legs over the side of her bed, Fuuka climbed out of bed and began to go through her morning rituals. It was Saturday, which meant she was in the week's home stretch, and while a bit more sleep would have been welcome, one more day wasn't going to kill her.

Once she was all set, Fuuka slid her laptop into her bag and dashed out the door, making it to the monorail right alongside Yukari. The trip to school was uneventful, and even gave her blue-haired girl a chance to chat with her friend and upperclassman for a while. It was shaping up to be a leisurely end to a busy week, and Fuuka was thankful for that. Her day seemed sleepy and slow, going by without anything out of the ordinary happening; that is, until everything started to go downhill. Nothing could have prepared Fuuka for the bad day she was about to have.

Everything started after class.
School was over before Fuuka knew it, but she decided to pay a quick visit to Gekkoukan's art club before she left. While they didn't typically meet on Saturdays, they'd agreed to meet in order to make up for missing their Thursday meeting.
Fuuka smiled softly as she stepped inside the club's meeting room, offering a quiet "Hello" to those assembled. Despite it being a Saturday afternoon, they'd managed to get a near-perfect turnout, much to Fuuka's surprise. The others must really be dedicated, she thought. What didn't surprise her were all the sewing machines situated in a loose circle around the room's center, as if they were loitering there. Keisuke had been pleased to inform his fellow club mates that the school had provided them with new equipment at last, and while several of them had grumbled about how sewing hardly counted as art, Fuuka was willing to at least give it a try.

Thursday's meeting had been cancelled due to the grumblers informing Keisuke that they would return as soon as they got back to painting. Despite Fuuka's presence that day, she'd been forced to re-attend once their bespectacled club leader informed the dissenters that they needed to at least try the sewing machines out, and that if everyone really hated them, they never had to use them again; a fair compromise, in Fuuka's book.

It was with this attitude that the art club met once more. The grumbling ceased after a few minutes, and some of the assembled students found themselves actually doing an alright job; Fuuka was not one of those students, unfortunately. Her affinity for technology didn't extend to devices as old as the provided sewing machines, and it didn't take long for her to wind up with a completely hopeless doily. Keisuke offered to help her, but she just smiled sheepishly and told him she'd figure it out.

That was when everything started to go downhill for Fuuka. If she'd known what was about to happen, she'd have skipped the meeting altogether.

On about her fourth attempt at spinning her yarn into something even remotely workable, Fuuka found her machine stopping all of a sudden. Frowning with frustration, and worried she might have somehow broken it, she got to her feet and leaned over the machine, lightly hitting it with the palm of her small hand. She wasn't usually keen on "fixing" machines like that, but with a machine that old, she wondered if it didn't just need a light jostling. To her credit, her surprise, that seemed to do the trick.

However, as Fuuka sat back down, she failed to notice a few stray threads from her skirt getting stuck in the needle of the machine. Glad to see she'd finally done something right, she quietly continued trying to actually sew something, gradually unraveling her own skirt inch-by-inch.

It took her a few minutes and two more failed attempts to realize something was wrong, and by that time, her skirt was a full three inches shorter! It was barely even covering her underwear now, and the machine was still going! With a quiet "Eep!", Fuuka attempted to tug her skirt back down to her knees, willing it to get longer again. Needless to say, that didn't work, and more and more of Fuuka's white nylons peeked out from under her quickly-shortening skirt.

What was she going to do? She needed to stop the machine, or soon she would end up losing her skirt! But she couldn't stand up; not like this. If the others realized what she'd accidentally done to herself, she'd never hear the end of it.

Fuuka felt her cheeks turning red as she decided to try and fix this on her own, and hope no one would notice her shrinking skirt.
The absolute last thing Fuuka needed was to draw everyone's attention to her and her disappearing skirt. There had to be something she could do quickly and quietly to handle the situation. But what? She couldn't figure out how to get the machine to stop, and just waiting for it to break down again was out of the question.

Following a hunch, Fuuka tried tugging on the thread of her skirt being fed through the machine, hoping she might be able to snap it free. Unfortunately, all this accomplished was making the machine work harder against her pulling, causing a grinding noise to begin emanating from the machine. Seeing other club members start to look up from their work in curiosity, Fuuka quickly abandoned this plan, letting the machine continue its work and cease grinding.

Fuuka could feel her time running out. Her skirt had diminished to the point that she could feel it disappearing between her body and her seat. She didn't have to look down to know just how much was showing at this point. Fuuka could feel her heart start racing; she needed a plan, and quickly! Her analytically inclined mind considered the possibility of finding a way to jam the machine. Force the needle to stop moving and at the very least keep her skirt from shrinking any further, even though there wasn't much skirt left to salvage. Opposite this idea there was a more "practical" one, at least practical so far as her nervous mind was concerned.

"Technically, I have all the materials I need to make a new skirt. I just need to figure out how to sew it into the proper shape, shouldn't be too terribly hard." Fuuka's mind told her. The idea seemed crazy since Fuuka didn't know the first thing about tailoring. On the other hand, what could it hurt to try?
It was a long shot, but Fuuka knew she didn't have any other choice if she wanted to escape this with her modesty intact. Jamming the machine would still leave her with a shamefully short skirt, and that was completely unacceptable. Besides, she thought, what could be a better way for her to improve her sewing than working under this kind of intense pressure? Maybe this was the moment when she'd finally tap into some sort of hidden artistic talent that had been buried deep, deep inside her all those years.

She had to give it a shot. She'd pulled the team out of tougher spots than this in their trips into Tartarus, so surely she could pull herself out of an embarrassing blunder all on her own. Besides, she'd worn enough skirts to have an idea of the basic shape one needed to be. How hard could it really be? Riding a wave of unsure courage, Fuuka set to work making herself a new skirt.

It took approximately a minute before she realized her plan really had no chance of working. To start, Fuuka may have known what sort of shape a skirt was meant to have, but getting it to take a shape even remotely close to that was the tricky part; actually, it was the entire thing. She'd hoped that would be the tricky part, but it turned out that all of it was tricky. There wasn't a single part of this that was going well.

Two minutes in, and Fuuka could feel her skirt disappear underneath her entirely, leaving her with practically nothing except the part around her waist. Fuuka felt her cheeks turning redder as she realized the only thing covering her panties were her white nylons, and those were nearly transparent! And she still wasn't any closer to making a serviceable skirt for herself. She needed to do something, and fast!

Her first instinct was to just grab her bag and bolt for the door, but if she did that, she knew she'd be seen. Her other option was to try and find some way to cover up below her waist without looking too conspicuous. She wasn't sure how she was going to do that, but if she didn't want to get noticed, she'd have to figure it out soon.

Fuuka stole a quick, nervous glance down, hoping she'd somehow imagined the whole thing and she was still fully-dressed. The clear view of her modest white panties underneath her nylons was enough to tell her otherwise. Cringing with embarrassment, Fuuka quickly decided on her next move... to bolt for the door.

Taking a deep breath, Fuuka grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder. Doing her best to have it hanging below her waist to at least somewhat obscure her lack of a skirt, Fuuka carefully stood up from her seat and quickly made a bolt for the club room door. The sound of hurried footsteps drew the attention of those around her, and Fuuka could only hope that she moved too quickly for any of them to fully register what they saw.

Running out into the hallway, Fuuka realized that she had to find somewhere else to hide. While having no skirt in the art room had been embarrassing, the school hallways weren't exactly better. In a way, they were a downgrade, since just about anybody might come down the halls and see her. That was no good at all! Quickly reasoning to herself, Fuuka decided that her best bet was to hide out in the women's bathroom until she could gather her thoughts and figure out a solution to her predicament.

Turning towards the nearest bathroom and bolting off before anybody from the art room could come out to investigate her sudden flight from the room, Fuuka failed to notice something dangerously important: another thread leaving her body, feeding under the door and back into the art room. Without realizing it, Fuuka's mad dash out of the room had brought her a bit too close to another one of the machines, and the machine had snagged her blouse.
As it turned out, finding Fuuka wouldn't be very difficult, assuming someone decided to investigate. All they'd need to do is follow the long, aqua-green thread down the halls until they reached the ladies' room on that floor. In her haste, Fuuka had yet to realize that her blouse was very quickly unraveling underneath her jacket, and by now, all she had left of it was the turtleneck collar. She was thinking of nothing but the safety of the restroom, however, so even as her blouse continued to unravel, she still failed to notice.

Once she reached the door to the girls' room, however, she could hear voices coming from the other side; high-pitched laughter and even...jeering? There was a crowd in there, and it sounded as though someone was being made fun of. That's what Fuuka thought she heard, anyway. Re-assessing her own lack of skirt, Fuuka realized that perhaps scampering into the restroom wasn't a good idea. But then, where else could she go? She couldn't stay in the halls. Someone could walk out of a classroom at any-

Pssssshk

second.

Fuuka's heart leaped into her throat as she heard a nearby classroom door sliding open. If she didn't move, she was going to be caught! She needed to run! There was another classroom to her right, and classes were supposed to be over,but then why had another one just slid open? Maybe that one would be empty. But what if it wasn't!? She could dash down the stairs to the first floor, but then she'd be in the lobby, and she knew there would be people down there. She'd be spotted for sure!

Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no! What do I do!? Fuuka panicked inwardly, wasting another couple seconds agonizing over her choice. Finally, realizing she was out of time as she heard footsteps from down the hall, Fuuka threw open the door of a nearby classroom, ran inside, and slammed it behind her.
Deciding that a classroom that only might have people in it was still a safer choice than going downstairs into the school lobby where there would be people, Fuuka dashed towards the nearest classroom door. Still unaware of her second compromised piece of clothing, Fuuka didn't notice as her shirt was completely undone, the final bit of thread falling away from her and coming to rest in the middle of the hallway. The only thing keeping Fuuka's upper half modest now was her school jacket and the bra underneath, and one of those was far less modest than the other.

Slipping into the classroom, Fuuka quickly slammed the door behind her, hoping nobody caught a glimpse of her ducking into the room. Leaning against the door, Fuuka took a moment to catch her breath, still trying to figure out a solution to her missing skirt dilemma. Looking around, Fuuka saw that she had chosen wisely; the room was blissfully empty. While somebody might drop by later, she was safe from prying eyes for the moment.

Wiping her brow with her jacket sleeve, Fuuka had an idea. She remembered how Yukari would wear her pink camisole around her waist on the warmer days, keeping her identifiable pink on her person while keeping cool. Fuuka might be able to recreate that idea with her jacket. While tying her jacket around her waist would still leave some of her lower half exposed, she might be able to mitigate that with her bag. She could cover her rear end with the jacket and hold her bag in front of her. It wasn't perfect, but it was certainly something!

Deciding that this was her safest course of action, Fuuka pulled her jacked over her head only to finally realize her latest development. Shrieking, Fuuka crossed her arms over her chest despite nobody being around to see her.

"What happened to my shirt?!" Fuuka nearly shouted, surprised at finding herself in nothing but her bra on her upper half. While she didn't know what had happened to her shirt, what was important was that it was gone, and THAT was bad news. Now Fuuka had two issues to fix; her top and her bottom. She could use her jacket to solve one, but she'd still need to improvise a solution to the other. At the moment, Fuuka had to decide which was more important. Should she put her jacket back on and keep her top half decent, or go through with her plan to replace her skirt with her jacket and bag?
Her cheeks red, Fuuka quickly donned her jacket once more, practically yanking the zipper back up in order to hide her bra. Having her panties on display was embarrassing, to be certain, but she'd still rather be showing those than her bra, especially with all the extra bare skin around it. But now she was back to square one. Actually, it wasn't even square one. Square one was when all she'd lost was her skirt.

Squirming with embarrassment, Fuuka paced around the empty classroom, wracking her brain to come up with an escape plan. Maybe she could just hide in the classroom until the school closed, then escape back to the dorm under cover of darkness. No, no, that wouldn't work. Then she'd end up locked inside the school again and...well, that just wasn't an option. Tartarus was deadly even under good conditions, so she didn't want to think about what it would be like to scamper around the labyrinthine tower dressed like this.

She knew she was going to have to make her escape soon, though. The school would be open for another hour at most. It was then that Fuuka had an idea: What if she were to escape through a window, then climb down off the roof and down onto the track field? She had never been any good at sports or exerting herself, but if she were careful - very, very careful - she might be able to slide down a nearby drain pipe and then hide in the bushes until she reached the monorail. How she was going to deal with that was...well, she'd figure that out later.

This still seemed like a terrible plan, but her only other option was to head back into the hall and brave the first floor lobby. There was another problem, however; one which, like her unraveled shirt, Fuuka didn't immediately notice: When she'd yanked the zipper on her school jacket back up, it had been so frantic and with such force that it had been partially torn from its track. The jacket was closed, for the time being, but there was now a noticeable gap at the bottom where Fuuka's belly button was now peeking out. If that zipper gap were to catch on something, Fuuka's jacket would be ripped clean open. Of course, she didn't realize any of this just yet.

Fuuka knew she needed to make a decision now, so she decided to  try and climb down from the roof by sliding down a nearby drain pipe.
Fuuka realized how outlandish this plan was, but her only other option would be to walk through a crowd of her peers dressed as she was. How could she show her face in school after something like that? No, stealth was her only real option. Thankfully, Fuuka reasoned to herself, she was light enough that she shouldn't have too much trouble keeping her grip and sliding down the drainage pipe. Likewise, the pipe was unlikely to fall out of place due to her weight. All in all, the plan was, at least in terms of physical danger, not terribly bad.

Sliding the classroom window open, Fuuka eyed the drainage pipe to her left with trepidation. Looking out onto the track field, Fuuka felt fortunate for the first time today as she found it blissfully empty. The track team must have already left for the day, so she wouldn't have an audience for her descent from the school. Making sure her bag was safely with her, Fuuka reached out and got as strong of a grip on the drainage pipe as she could muster. Carefully, Fuuka swung herself out of the window and hastily brought her other hand to the pipe, affixing herself to it and making sure her grip was nice and tight. Once she was sure she had a good grip, Fuuka slowly began to shimmy down the pipe.

Fuuka could only imagine how ridiculous she must look. Shimmying down the side of the school, her nylons doing a negligible job of hiding her panties, the colors of her uniform jacket contrasting sharply with the walls of the school would surely have drawn the eye of any observers in the area. Thankfully that wasn't an issue. What was an issue, however, was the drainage pipe itself. Due to building codes, the pipe was affixed to the wall of the building with a series of metal rings. Though they barely stood out from the pipe itself, they still stuck out enough to potentially snag debris such as falling leaves or the like. In this particular case, while there may not have been any falling leaves to snag on the rings, there was an abundance of material on Fuuka's person just begging to snag on one of them. So focused on keeping her grip and climbing down quickly, Fuuka was completely oblivious to yet another part of her wardrobe getting ready to abandon her.
Had she been a little bit more observant, Fuuka may have been able to free her white nylons.


Fuuka's eyes darted back upward as the sound of quiet tragedy reached her ears. She feared the worst, and what she saw was exactly that: The front of her white nylons had caught on one of the pipe's metal rings, snagging just below her waistband and tearing a thin hole. Fuuka's eyes widened as she realized she wouldn't be able to keep climbing down without further damaging her nylons, and just abandoning them was completely out of the question. She'd already lost an alarming number of clothes, and she wasn't in a hurry to lose even more.

Now feeling slightly panicked, Fuuka began to struggle against the metal ring, hoping to somehow tug her nylons free. Each desperate movement began to rip a longer and longer hole. It was obvious that, at best, Fuuka would come out of this with a pair of ruined nylons, but some cover was better than none at all. If only she could let go of the pipe with one hand, she'd have no trouble at all getting herself free, but she knew she'd slip and fall if she tried anything like that. So she continued her struggling, each tug causing the tear to travel lower and lower, until it had reached the middle of Fuuka's thigh.

Unfortunately for her, the next tug happened to be a bit too vigorous, and Fuuka suddenly lost her grip on the pipe. Letting out a panicked shriek, Fuuka clung on with her knees for dear life. Fortunately, while she did continue sliding downward at a very quick pace, she was still able to keep her precarious leg-hug the whole way down, straining her nylons even more. However, disaster struck once again as she neared the bottom. Fuuka's legs squeezed together once more in an attempt to halt her descent altogether, but the sudden stop caused her to fall backwards until she was actually upside-down.

She was only a foot or so from the ground, so her inevitable fall would be little more than a bump, which was good, since right as she was flipped upside-down, she finally lost her grip once more and fell off the pipe entirely. Fuuka let out an embarrassed squeal as she felt her white nylons slip off her legs entirely, as their waistband had been completely shredded in the fall. The sudden feeling of silky cloth abandoning her legs would have been bad enough without the fall, but the sudden shift in momentum caused the blue-haired girl to lose her shoes in the process, as well. Once she climbed out of the bushes, Fuuka looked down at herself and "Eep!"'d once more. Her school jacket still hid her bra, but now she was standing out in the middle of her school's track field with her panties on display for anyone who happened to walk by! Fuuka squirmed with embarrassment, her hands flying down to shyly cover the front of her modest, white panties.

Barefoot, bare-legged, and with her panties clearly exposed, Fuuka needed to come up with a plan, and fast. She needed to get home, but how could she without someone seeing her? She did still have her bag with her, but she couldn't exactly hide the fact that she was running around in her undies.

Stifling a little, embarrassed whine, Fuuka decided to take a detour. She'd be exposed for longer, but she might avoid other students.
The idea of being seen by her classmates in her nylons was bad enough, but being seen with just her panties below her waist? Not an option, not as far as Fuuka was concerned. She had to take the longer path, if only because it'd be more likely to be deserted or sparsely populated. So, with modest being at the forefront of her mind, Fuuka quickly made her way toward the detour. It didn't take long before she found what she was looking for.

The long way was actually quite nice, were the situation any different. A quiet stretch of assorted buildings against a small park-like area. It was meant to offer the people of the city a place to feel relaxed and closer to nature, though in reality it was little more than an infrequently traveled path students took to and from school. Fuuka wasn't in any mood to linger and admire the scenery, however. She had a journey to make, and this was the best path available. Taking careful steps, Fuuka made sure to stay near the wildlife, ready to hop behind a tree or into some bushes in case there was any sign of people coming.

For a brief moment, Fuuka thought about how ridiculous she must look. Wearing nothing but her underwear and a school jacket, she figured she'd look more at home on a poster in some boy's bedroom. The idea of her in this state being photographed made Fuuka shiver, reminding her of just how important it was that she stay out of sight and stay on her guard.

It was this careful mindset that clued Fuuka in to the sound of approaching footsteps. Reacting quickly, she jumped for the nearest cover, which just so happened to be a particularly thick patch of bushes. While it wasn't comfortable, Fuuka was glad that the cluster of branches and needles more or less completely obscured her from view. Deciding against peeking out, lest she give herself away, Fuuka chose to listen to the footsteps as they approached, reached her location, and thankfully continued on their way. Whoever had walked by was none the wiser about the half-naked girl in the bushes.

Feeling relieved, Fuuka began pulling herself out of the bushes. Had she been paying more attention, she wouldn't have felt quite so relieved, as one of the pricklier branches of the bush had managed to snag her panties.
Too concerned about her embarrassing predicament, and too relieve to have once again evaded notice, it wasn't until it was too late that Fuuka finally noticed: The bush's thorny branches had snagged the back of her modest, white panties. Despite their modesty, they were quite thin, so it should come as no surprise that a few thorns could poke right through them and catch. One wrong move, or even just one right move made too hastily, could spell disaster once again. The fading footsteps gave Fuuka the courage she needed to make such a hasty move. As she stepped, Fuuka suddenly stumbled, tumbling headlong into the grass as her thin, silky white panties were yanked down to just past her knees.

Forgetting her own stealth on impulse, Fuuka let out a loud, embarrassed squeal, throwing out her hands to break her fall into the grass. It wasn't over yet, though. The momentum from the fall, as well as her own struggling, caused Fuuka to fall right out of her modest panties! Before she knew what had happened, they had just slipped past he ankles and right off the bare tips of her toes.

She would have been able to see them fluttering slightly in the pleasant breeze had she not just started tumbling down a hill near the roadside. And to make matters worse, there was a river right below her! With another few panicked shrieks, Fuuka rolled further and further down the small hill, doing her best to stop. Temporarily abandoning modesty, Fuuka threw out her arms and put them flat against the hill to try and halt her descent.
While Fuuka's tumble down the hill was bad enough with her completely naked below the waist, that wasn't the worst part. As she rolled down the hill, the unfastened area of her zipper gradually grew in size as it caught on the ground in each rotation. Before long, the zipper had come completely undone and left Fuuka's jacket wide open and just begging to be pulled off. Unfortunately for Fuuka, her focus on stopping her descent made her blind to her jacket's compromised state.

As the end of the hill started to meet the start of the river, Fuuka finally managed to stop herself completely. Managing to wrap her legs around a small shrub on the hillside, Fuuka found herself in quite a ridiculous position: her momentum had carried her body in such a way that her head was now pointed toward the running water, while the way she had hooked her legs around the shrub left her thighs spread a bit more wide open than Fuuka would prefer to be out in public. Her hands actually resting in the running water itself, Fuuka began to realize that something was wrong as she felt her jacket sleeves begin to get pulled off her arms by the current!

Craning her head upwards to see what was happening, Fuuka was shocked as she saw her jacket pulling away from her, leaving her in nothing but her bra! With a strangled cry, Fuuka desperately clawed at her retreating jacket only to be met with air. She had realized her predicament too late, and now her jacket was gently floating down the river, further and further away from her.

Fuuka didn't know what to do at this point. Here she was, nothing on except a bra and nothing to aid her except her bag. She wasn't even at the monorail station, let alone anywhere near the dorms, and there was no way she'd be able to take any kind of public transportation now! Deciding that her first order of business was finding somewhere to hide, Fuuka carefully freed herself from the shrub that had stopped her from falling into the river and began to weigh her options.

Fuuka certainly wasn't dumb, she was confident enough to admit that much. However, her smarts could only go so far in a situation like this. Maybe, just maybe, if she found something, like a discarded newspaper or a shopping bag, she might be able to make some improvised clothing. It'd be flimsy, and it would certainly draw a lot of people's attention, but at least she'd be covered. Provided she didn't have any more unfortunate mishaps, that is. On the other hand, if Fuuka chose her hiding spots more carefully from now on, she might be able to make some real distance without losing what little she had left.
Fuuka swallowed dryly, knowing what she had to do. If she could just find something - anything of the right size that wasn't too dirty - she could improvise some clothing for herself. On one hand, she knew her last attempt at making herself a skirt had been the root of her thoroughly embarrassing situation, but on the other, she was running out of options. Besides, she thought, having to quickly hide in bushes or by climbing down pipes had caused her to lose the rest of her clothes, hadn't it? Much as the thought of being seen wearing a cardboard box or the like made her cringe, Fuuka would likely be home free if she could just start walking the main streets without fear.
After a few minutes' nervous searching, Fuuka managed to find an old newspaper with most of its pages intact. It wasn't perfect, but with some struggling, she was able to piece together a sort of makeshift outfit for herself. Three pages were loosely tied together around her neck and torso in order to hide her bra, while three more fanned out below her waist to make a short and rather precarious skirt. Fuuka still felt terribly exposed like this, however. Covered or not, she was going to be walking around without any panties, and the breeze between her legs was reminding her more and more how little she was really wearing. It was beginning to pick up, too, so she knew she'd need to hurry home.
Steeling herself and she clutching her bag tightly, Fuuka made her way back up the hill, to the road, then continued on. A few minutes later, she reached the monorail station. She got straight on, hoping she'd have a car to herself.
Fuuka nervously approached the monorail, her cheeks turning red as the attendant looked her over. He raised an incredulous eyebrow at her, then simply asked "Boarding pass?" With a sheepish grin, Fuuka fished around in her bag until she found her purse, finally extracting her boarding pass after about a full minute. Other people on the platform began to stare, murmuring or giggling to each other, and some even looked to be pulling out their phone to snap photos.

Fuuka knew she must look ridiculous: Barefoot and bare-legged, covered only by a few pages of flimsy newspaper, and standing in the middle of the monorail platform. She hoped there wasn't a hole in the back of her "skirt" or something. She supposed she wasn't totally sure how well that had held up on the trip over, but the murmurs and giggles were starting to get to her.

Finally, the attendant told Fuuka she could get on the monorail, so with a bright red face, that's exactly what she did. Unfortunately, the car she got was far from empty; so far from empty, in fact, that she'd need to stand for her trip back to the mainland. Fuuka squirmed shyly as all eyes turned to her and her ridiculous outfit. The car was silent, but the looks on their faces spoke volumes. Some looked embarrassed for her, others looked to be containing laughter, a few boys her own age were clearly enjoying the precariousness of her improvised clothes.

Fuuka's stomach tied itself into knots as she saw comprehension in the eyes of one of the boys. He was in her year! They had classes together six days a week! And judging by the look on his face, he definitely recognized her. Now the camera phones really were coming out, and Fuuka felt as if there was a spotlight on her She flashed another embarrassed smile, this time at the boys from Gekkoukan, then tried to look away and convince herself he didn't know who she was.

Oh god...I'm so embarrassed I could just die... Fuuka thought, blushing even brighter. Even the tips of her ears were turning red now. But she'd have saved that hyperbole had she known what was about to happen. Fuuka's worst humiliation yet had yet to come, and it all culminated in Fuuka being stark naked in front of a lot of people...and it wouldn't be the last or worst time that day!
Fuuka made it a point to avoid the gaze of the Gekkoukan boys for the duration of her trip, feeling too embarrassed to endure that for more than a second or so at a time. They were staring at her the entire time, however; most of the passengers were. Fuuka caught everyone looking several times, and that only served to make her feel even more nervous. She felt exposed and vulnerable like this, dressed in newspapers with only her bra on underneath. She wasn't even wearing any panties, and here she was, surrounded by a crowd! Fuuka knew they couldn't see anything important, but she couldn't help but feel like everyone knew just how close she was to showing everything. After all, why else should she be wearing newspaper pages?

Stops came and went, and passengers went with them, but whether they were coming or going, each of them saw the girl with the bright red face wearing newspapers, and briefly (and sometimes not so briefly) stared. Finally, after what felt like ages, the monorail arrived at Iwatodai station. She still had a bit of a walk ahead of her, but she was back on the mainland. She was nearly home free. Taking great care to avoid the other passengers' jostling as much as possible, Fuuka waited until most of the other people had left before taking a few timid steps back out into the open air. The boys had lingered a bit longer, apparently wanting to see what she was up to, but eventually even they left the car. Breathing a quiet sigh of relief now that she was finally alone in the car, Fuuka knew she had to get off as well, but the momentary seclusion was so welcome after being in the spotlight for so long.

As she stepped off the monorail, however, disaster struck once more: The doors closed behind her almost instantly, capturing the newspaper pages and even part of her bra strap in its metallic clutches. Realizing she was stuck, Fuuka only let out a tiny gasp. She didn't want to draw any more attention to herself than she already had. A few experimental tugs told her she wasn't getting free on her own, and the monorail was set to depart any second. She needed some help, and fast! Because if things stayed the way they were, she was going to get stripped naked in front of all these people, including those boys from her school!
"Now departing for - Port Island Station. Please stand clear of the doors."

Biiiing-boooong bing-bong...Bing-bong biiiing-boooong...

Fuuka's eyes were like dinner plates as the pleasant and polite automated voice announced the monorail's departure. Her clothes would get dragged away along with the train! There had to be something she could do! Struggling with all her might against the doors, Fuuka could hear her newspaper cover starting to rip, her bra strap straining dangerously. Feet scrambling furiously, Fuuka felt the train begin to move.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no!!! Fuuka wailed inside her head, dreading what was coming.

In one fluid motion, every single stitch of clothing Fuuka had left, from her plain white bra to the flimsy newspaper pages she'd used to cover her modesty, were ripped clean off her body. The loud tearing sound would have been noticeable enough on its own to make everyone on the platform stare, but what really got their attention was the humiliated squeal that came from Fuuka's lips.

There she was: Standing in the middle of a train platform, still nearly an hour from the safety of her dorm, naked as the day she was born. Fuuka's face was bright red as her hands flew down to cover up, one arm slinging across her small breasts while her other hand shyly rested in front of her wispy tuft of blue pubic hair, not able to completely conceal it. Tiny, curly blue hairs peeked out from behind her palm, and as she squirmed with embarrassment, those watching her would see she'd even accidentally let one of her shy, pink nipples slip out from under her arm. And evey if they hadn't noticed, the barrage of flashes from nearby camera phones would certainly catch it!

Letting out another squeal of humiliation, Fuuka bolted from the station, red-faced and bare-assed. She tried to escape the camera phones as best she could, but they still got plenty of shots of the shy, nerdy girl in her birthday suit before she left. Bare feet slapping against the pavement as she ran away, Fuuka felt humiliated tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. How could she face everyone on Monday? The pictures would probably be uploaded to the internet by then! The whole school would have seen her naked!

Red-faced, covered precariously by nothing but her school bag, and on the verge of tears, Fuuka just wanted to get home; or, if that wasn't an option, crawl under a rock and die.
Fuuka wanted nothing more than to get back to the dorm, lock herself in her room, and stay there for the rest of time. Nothing mattered except that, and it was for that reason that Fuuka simply kept running. She knew the route back to the dorm like the back of her hand, so she didn't need to pay attention to where she was going; this was good, since Fuuka couldn't bring herself to look up and risk looking anybody in the eyes as she ran by. This confidence in her path finding would lead her into more trouble, however, as Fuuka should have been keeping her eyes ahead to see any potential obstacles. Instead, Fuuka didn't realize what she was running into until it was far, far too late. If she thought her current predicament was humiliating, she didn't even know the half of it.

Fuuka's ears barely registered the woman's voice growing louder as she approached. At first, she just thought it was a normal conversation between whoever was speaking and somebody else next to her. Had she paid closer attention, she would have heard "Thank you, Hakamichi-san. This is Yuuko Shimizu, coming to you live from- ah!" The sharply dressed news reporter was cut short as the unwillingly streaking Fuuka slammed into her, sending the two women crashing into the ground.

"What in the world?" The reporter yelped out, surprised at being tackled and ever more surprised at seeing the culprit. "Wait, why are you naked?!"

Fuuka couldn't even think to make a reply, her eyes taking in her surroundings. What had that woman said? 'Coming to you live?' That was when Fuuka noticed the news camera. The news camera pointing straight at her! First the phone cameras, now live television?! Fuuka didn't think she could get any redder, screaming in humiliation as she tried to free herself from the reporter she had stumbled into. Fuuka could only hope she could get out of there before the camera could catch anything more than it already had.
Fuuka frantically wrestled herself free of the hapless reporter, wanting nothing more than to get as far away from the camera as possible. She was convinced things couldn't possibly get more humiliating than this. Not only was she buck naked in public, but anyone watching the news that night would end up seeing her! Going bright red, all she could hope for now was that the camera hadn't caught anything too important, and all the viewers would see would be flashes of bare skin. In reality, Fuuka's bare backside had already been in frame for a good five seconds, even if she didn't realize it. Fuuka wouldn't be able to miss what happened next, however.

As Fuuka freed herself from the mess of tangled limbs, she found herself suddenly off-balance, and before she knew it, she'd fallen backwards right onto her ass. That wasn't the worst of it, however: The camera had followed her, and as she'd fallen quite suddenly, Fuuka suddenly found herself in a terribly compromising position. Hands propping herself up, bare boobs bared for all to see, with her legs splayed out wide, giving the camera a clear view at her naked pussy. The only thing covering her was the wispy patch of curly, blue hair between her legs, and that wouldn't exactly provide her much comfort. It took Fuuka a few seconds to realize her situation,and by the time she had, the camera had caught the whole thing on tape. Anyone watching would be able to see the whole thing: Fuuka Yamagishi, naked from head to toe, giving the camera one hell of a show. As she sat there, eyes wide and face bright red, Fuuka realized her whole school - no, the whole city - would see her naked now!

This was all just too much for the already-embarrassed Fuuka. This was the final straw. Screaming with humiliation, Fuuka threw her arms over herself, suddenly bursting into mortified tears as she tried to scramble to her feet. Leaving her bag behind, Fuuka's hands flew down between her legs as she began to run away. The whole thing was, obviously, seen by the camera, and would most definitely be appearing on the news that evening. Humiliated tears streaming down her cheeks, cupping her bare crotch like a child, Fuuka ran naked down the street toward her dorm, catching the attention of those she passed and anyone who happened to look out their windows. Each person who spotted her only further added to her embarrassment, and while she'd managed to stop crying after a few minutes, she still had to contend with the stares and laughter of those who saw her.

Fuuka reached her dorm after a few minutes more, and though she'd left her bag lying in the street, the door had been left open. Bursting into the living room, the humiliated girl felt actual relief for the first time in what felt like ages...until she saw the entire rest of the SEES team staring straight at her. She'd just given all her friends a full look at her bare breasts and pussy! Letting out another humiliated squeal, Fuuka pushed past them and ran upstairs, not even remembering to cover this time. Slamming the door to her room, Fuuka wrapped her blanket over herself and stayed there for the rest of the evening.
Fuuka had finally made it home, but she didn't even want to think about what Monday was going to be like, once those pictures and that news footage were seen by the public. What was certain, though, was that Fuuka would never, ever forget how humiliated she'd felt that day, and no one who'd seen her would ever forget the sight of the girl who'd accidentally given the whole city a look between her legs on the evening new		s.