Even the unshakable Mitsuru Kirijo had her limits, and having her underwear clearly on display for the entire Student Council was far beyond those limits. As much as her honor demanded that she keep going despite her rapidly diminishing wardrobe, Mitsuru just couldn't take it any more. Doing her best to maintain some composure, Mitsuru carefully pulled one hand away from her chest and fanned it out in front of her panties. Looking around the room, Mitsuru noted that she at least wouldn't have to get everyone's attention for her next words, though that was an incredibly small comfort, given the situation.
"I am going to... call a short break so that I may regather myself." Mitsuru said, her normally imperious tone quivering. "I apologize. We shall reconvene shortly."
Without leaving time for anyone to respond, Mitsuru immediately turned and ran from the room. She knew that her attempt to save face hadn't done much, but she had to do it; if she didn't at least try to maintain composure she'd never be able to forgive herself. Now in the hallway, Mitsuru frantically looked around for a place to go. The lower floors were out, at least for the time being. Mitsuru would rather thoroughly search the current floor than risk putting herself further from the Student Council room than absolutely necessary. She just had to figure out a way to at least salvage what remained of her outfit, perhaps find a way to dry her shirt so it wouldn't be transparent any longer. That's it! She could use the hand dryer in the bathroom to dry her shirt. It wouldn't be ideal, and it would probably take a fair bit of time, but it was a sound enough idea, and certainly better than standing in the hallway with no plan.
Quickly turning to her left, Mitsuru spied the bathroom sign hanging from the hallway ceiling. Thankfully it was a relatively short distance, and the sound of Mitsuru's boots slapping down the hall as she ran only lasted a few scant seconds, though to Mitsuru they felt like an eternity. Sharply turning into the bathroom doorway, Mitsuru began hurriedly unbuttoning her blouse and slid it off her arms. Now standing in nothing but her undergarments and boots, Mitsuru walked to the hand dryer on the wall and activated it, holding her dripping shirt under the hot stream of air.
After several cycles of hot air, the shirt seemed to be at least slightly less drenched, though still not good enough to put back on. It would seem that this would take some time, but at least it was being done in the seclusion of the women's bathroom, Mitsuru reasoned. That was when Mitsuru noticed something in the reflection of the bathroom mirror, just out of the corner of her eye. As she realized what was being reflected, Mitsuru's heart skipped a beat; she was looking at-
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