"Guess I'll head out for real now," Miyagi said.
Clock said past closing—longest thirty minutes of my life.
"Come back anytime," Mom chirped.
"Definitely, Suzuka-san. Aoba-chan—see ya," he teased, blowing me a kiss while I was still gagged.
Damn it—looks cool, but pisses me off more!
"Mmph—mmph!?" I thrashed.
"Bye-bye," he waved, finally leaving.
Mom released me. "Mom!" I barked, glaring.
She shot back a cool stare. "Why'd you hide him?"
"Uh…" I faltered.
Here it comes.
"Not a word, even when I was in the hospital?"
"…He just transferred in recently," I mumbled.
Lame excuse—barely covers it. I know it.
"You into him?" she pressed.
"Ugh…" I froze.
"…Not like that. But I don't hate him," I muttered, voice shrinking.
She's got me pegged—crappy dodge.
"Why drag your feet? He's throwing himself at you—don't let him slip!" she snapped.
"I-I get it, okay?" I stammered.
I thought that too, at first. But, Mom—he's not the one caught. I am! Can't say that, though—just mumbled like an idiot.
"Like hot guys, right?"
"…Yeah, I'm a girl," I admitted.
That's how this mess started. His face—damn good face.
"I'll back you up—need me gone a night, say it!" she urged.
"…" No chance.
A full day with him? I'd pass out who-knows-how-many times. First time in my room flashes back—my brain's boiling.
"If you don't want him, I'll—"
"No way!" I yelped, then froze. "Uh…"
"If you play it right, he might be my step-son—your kid's dad. Step up!" she grinned.
…Yeah, I've thought about marriage—kinda. But tying him down? Impossible. He's eyed Fuyuhara before, probably scoping others I don't know. I'm not greedy enough to claim him solo. Not thrilled with this warped setup, but it's more than I deserve—complain, and karma'd bite. Plus, like Mom said, at this rate, a kid's not off the table. Uh, protection-wise—he always finishes in my mouth, but if I wanted it, he'd probably… you know. Not now, but if it happened, I'd be happy enough.
"…Kid aside, marriage? No shot," I let slip.
Mom smirked. "Let's buy new bras—those goddess ones that slim you down!"
"Those are pricey!"
"Investment! What, don't want 'em?"
Used to, but now? Meh. She's onto me—might as well spill.
"…I'm good. He doesn't mind big chests," I said.
"True," she nodded, eyeing hers and mine.
"Skip the bras then?"
"…No, I'll take 'em. Something… colorful," I mumbled.
Got two sets myself, but shop cash doesn't stretch for fancy stuff. His taste runs expensive—grateful for the assist.
"Great, we'll shop after closing!" she said.
"Uh, yeah," I agreed.
She didn't pry. "I'll grab some too. His vibe—red? Black?"
"Huh? Mom!?" I gawked.
She's seen my stash—specific colors gave it away.
"Leave it to me—week's worth, covered," she said.
"Th-Thanks," I muttered.
She bought it as me luring him—not his picky demands. Explaining that'd spill our un-parentable mess.
"Hurry, clean up—we're out! You hit the sink!" she ordered.
"Yeah," I nodded.
Dodged her grilling, holding my "classmate fling" cover. Post-break, I'll swear him to silence about us with Mom. And "Aoba-chan"? Unforgivable… unless it's just us—then maybe I'd let it slide.