"I see… I respect your decision."
"But… what if I said I wanted to marry someday?"
"Name the guy you're thinking of, and I'll take him out right now!"
"No one! Geez, I'm just talking hypotheticals!"
Eriri hurriedly clarified.
*—I… I do have someone I'd want to marry… but I can never marry him. That person's you… But I can't ever say that. I'm your sister… your forever sister.*
"Hypotheticals… What brother would be thrilled hearing his sister talk about marriage?"
Kagura's expression dimmed with a hint of melancholy.
Eriri rushed over, grabbing his hand and shaking it. "Why're you sulking? I'm not marrying! Come on, cheer up!"
"Sigh… Good night."
"Ugh… I'm *not* marrying! Remember that!" Eriri shoved him lightly, then softly added, "Good night."
Soon, Friday arrived.
Fridays always stirred "Friday Fever" among students, a restless anticipation. If you ranked the anxiety levels of Class 2-F today, Saki Kawasaki would undeniably claim first place.
It was her first day as a "trainee maid."
Kagura had mentioned it to Sayuri last night. She had no objections, but he caught a sly glint in her eyes, suggesting she might play a prank on Kawasaki.
Still, Sayuri's pranks were unlikely to go too far, so Kagura saw no harm.
After school, Kawasaki lingered, watching Kagura pack slowly. They both dawdled until the classroom emptied. Only then did she sling her bag over her shoulder, fingers hooked around the strap, and casually ask, "So… the contract… when do we sign?"
"It's ready at home. My 'butler' will conduct a final interview."
"An interview? Are you messing with me?"
Kawasaki's forehead veins pulsed, suspecting a trick.
Kagura snapped his fingers calmly. "Not about hiring—you're already hired. This interview assesses your skills. Your salary could fluctuate, maybe plus or minus 100,000 yen."
"I don't buy there's an 'up' option. Sounds like an excuse to dock my pay."
Kawasaki huffed, skeptical.
Even with a 100,000-yen cut, the job would still pay 200,000—better than the grueling hotel night shifts that left her too exhausted for class, barely earning just over 200,000. Basic math made it clear.
"Be proactive and keep a good attitude, and it'll be 'up,' not 'down.' Trust me, I'm generous to those who serve me closely."
Kagura adjusted his collar, tucked his tie, grabbed his bag, and headed out.
"Wait! How do I get there?!"
"Don't you ride a bike? Or do you want to share my car and spark some rumors?"
"I—?! Idiot! The address?!"
Kawasaki's face flushed, hand covering her mouth.
"Sent to your email. Come early, and you might join us for dinner."
"Ugh… I'll pass on dinner… Latest arrival time?"
Kawasaki lowered her head, fingers interlocking into a nervous lattice shielding her mouth.
Sitting with Kagura's family for dinner felt like a social minefield. She imagined strict Western dining etiquette, which she knew nothing about.
In truth, Kagura's home was relaxed in private. Only with Sayuri as "butler" did things get slightly formal. Even then, she was lenient with herself, using chopsticks for Western meals—a true "strict with others, lax with self" approach.
"Latest by 6:30 PM Tokyo time. Meals and lodging are covered. No issues, right?"
"Uh… do I pay for dorms or food?"
"What? It's all free. The lodging might be so nice you won't want to leave. I told you, I'm generous to my personal staff. Hurry up."
Kagura waved, leaving first.
Eager for Kawasaki's arrival, he messaged Yukino: *[Skipping Service Club tonight, taking a break.]* She replied: *[Understood.]* With that, he headed out.
The hallways were deserted, students and teachers gone. At the stairwell corner, someone grabbed his sleeve. Reflexively, Kagura seized the arm, executing a shoulder throw, flipping the person onto the floor.
He was unguarded with close ones like Eriri or Ai, but his default vigilance was maxed, honed by rigorous training since childhood. His combat skills were exceptional.
Throwing someone was nothing—until…
"Huh…?! Mi-Miura?!"
Kagura, still gripping her arm, froze, staring at Yumiko Miura writhing in pain on the ground.
Talk about a blunder! Why was Miura ambushing him at the corner?!
Then… his eyes caught her beige panties.
"Ugh… ah…"
Miura instinctively clamped her thighs, turning to glare through her pain. "Tch… That hurt, Zeamura!"
"Uh, sor—" Kagura began, but Miura cut in, "No need to apologize. No wonder you asked if I could fight—you're even tougher…"
"Cough! Just… acquired skills, that's all."
"Fine, I ambushed you first… Don't sweat it."
Kagura released her, intending to help her up, but Miura raised a firm hand. "Stop. I can get up myself!"
"…"
He stepped back, watching her grimace as she stood, dusting her skirt and clothes. She spoke again, "By the way… did you end up eating mangoes yesterday?"
"Nope."
Kagura answered honestly.
In both senses, he hadn't "tasted" any mangoes.
"Really?" Miura glanced up, twirling her chest-level hair. "Can you come with me for a sec? Got something to say."
"Sure, no problem."
Kagura followed her upstairs. After a few steps, without turning, she mumbled, "You saw, didn't you?"
"If I said no, would you believe me?"
"Can't even tell a white lie?"
"With you, Yumiko, I don't want to lie."
"Ugh…!" Miura flinched, scanning around warily, cheeks pink as she waved a small fist. "Didn't I say? Don't call me that in public! Only… in private…"
"No one's around…"
"What if someone's hiding?! Forget it, come on!"
Miura grabbed his tie, dragging him toward the old school building.
Kagura followed until they reached a dim, unpowered classroom on the fourth floor. The setting sun cast a hazy, maple-syrup glow through dusty windows, lending an ethereal haze.
Miura pulled him inside, shut the door, and walked to the teacher's desk.
Kagura noticed a plastic bag there.
As expected, Miura grabbed it, approaching him. "Here, the mangoes you wanted."
"Uh…"
Kagura chuckled wryly. These weren't the "mangoes" he craved—he could get those anytime.
Still, appreciating her gesture, he nodded, politely pinching the bag's handle after she let go.
A rich mango scent hit him. The bag felt heavy. Peeking inside, he saw premium Mexican mangoes—pricey for a high schooler with no income. At over 800 yen each, Miura had bought three. Quite a gesture.
Seeing him check, Miura gave a slight nod, right hand on her hip.
"Thanks, Yumiko. You went all out."
"No big deal. You tossed me three million yen like it was nothing. Three mangoes? I'm embarrassed they're so cheap. But if you like them, good."
"I love them. Big mango fan."
"Mm…" Miura's face softened with satisfaction. She patted his shoulder, tiptoeing. "See you at school tomorrow."
She turned to leave, but her gait seemed off, each step awkward. Kagura recalled her "bad habit"—holding her bladder instead of using the restroom. Was she doing it now?
When would she finally let go?
His mind flashed to their steamy encounter in the gym storage, and his body moved instinctively. He strode forward, slapping a hand on her shoulder.
"Eek—?!"
Miura jumped, shivering with goosebumps.
"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you…"
"Huh? Phew—Then…" She glanced back, then averted her eyes. "What's up? I… need to step away for a bit."
"Are you holding it right now?"
"Wha—?! Ugh…"
Blushing, Miura toyed with her curled hair, sighing softly and nodding almost imperceptibly.
"I see." Kagura rubbed his chin, a mischievous smirk forming. "Can you show me?"
"I—You… pervert!"
Miura glared, but her usual fierceness softened into a coy pout.
"No good?"
Kagura sighed, feigning pity.
"Of course it's… not okay! What're you thinking? That's it—see you tomorrow."
She turned to bolt.
Kagura grabbed her, hugging her from behind, whispering, "Don't go, Yumiko. Show me. I want to see."
A rose-like fragrance enveloped him.
"Ugh…?"
Miura's face burned to her ears, Kagura feeling the heat against his lips.
"Yumiko, please let me see. I want to."
"It's already gross, and I feel like a freak… What's there to see? You're such a pervert!"
"I think it's beautiful. Please, Yumiko, show me."
"You… really want to see that bad?"
"Absolutely, I'm dying to see!"
"Ugh… Fine, you win…"
Her rigid body softened. Kagura released her. She covered her mouth, rubbing her slightly swollen abdomen. "The old building's restrooms don't work… Teaching building?"
"No, right here."
Kagura led her to a window-side corner, near the desk's right edge. Half-resisting, Miura was pressed there. She glanced nervously through the dusty glass—opaque with grime, ensuring privacy. Even if clear, this corner was hidden. Her caution was just a girl's instinct.
With her permanent [ClearSpring] item, Miura's bodily fluids were purified into rose-scented water. Coupled with Kagura's "Cleanse" ability, even a classroom mishap could be instantly fixed.
"If I do it here… the floor'll smell weird…"
Miura fidgeted, clutching her skirt, leaning back.
She could pee in a cup, and it'd taste like pure water, but the system's cognitive tweak made her think it was dirty.
"No worries. I'll clean it, like last time."
"Don't bring up last time… I'll punch you!"
Eyes closed, Miura tiptoed in the corner, enduring.
"So, can I?" Kagura asked. After a long pause, she nodded faintly. "Mm…"
"Then show me properly."
He set the mangoes back on the desk. As Miura started to squat, he caught and lifted her.
"Huh? If I don't squat, how do I show you?"
Panicked, she clutched her skirt, thighs tingling, desperate to crouch.
"Stand and show me. I want to see, Yumiko."
"Ugh? Fine… You win… Just this once…"
Miura steadied herself against the wall, left hand covering her mouth, right pressing her skirt. Soon, a clear, warm stream trickled down her legs, her soft, excited whimpers filling the air.
She didn't remove her panties, letting the flow soak through.
"Ugh…"
She tried shielding with her thighs, but it only worsened, clear water cascading over her pale skin, wetting her socks and seeping into her shoes. Feeling the dampness, she parted her legs, letting droplets patter onto the wooden floor.
"Huff… huff…"
Miura angled her feet, balancing on her shoes' edges, a small puddle forming between them.
Fine streams still trailed down her inner thighs. She kept her skirt pressed, hiding her panties, but they were surely a provocative sight.
"You're bullying me… What girl pees standing up…?"
Miura shook her damp skirt, her face a mix of resentment and near-tears.
She used his first name.
"But I think you're insanely cute like this, Yumiko!"
Kagura's erection had been raging since the start. Her allure rivaled Eriri's stairwell climax, both their fluids potable—Miura's purer, being system-crafted water, though Eriri's was rawer.
Miura lacked the orgasm, but the act thrilled her intensely.
"Such nonsense…" She fanned her skirt, embarrassed. "Kagura, clean it up."
"Tch, but I want to see your panties. Can you lift your skirt?"
"Kagura… Well… You're a guy, so… But my panties are all…"
"Show me."
"You win…"
Left hand over her eyes, Miura's right slowly raised her skirt.
Her smooth, pale thighs unveiled inch by inch. A girl lifting her skirt to reveal her panties was irresistibly erotic.
When her panties appeared, Kagura swallowed hard.
They were silk, beige, and—now soaked—nearly transparent, clinging to her mound, outlining her plump lips in a lush W-shape. Her aroused clit formed a cute bump, her hairless pubis barely veiled by the wet fabric. Leaning closer, he inhaled—a faint rose scent.
Squatting for an upskirt view, a rare treat, he saw her inner thighs quiver, occasional droplets falling from her panties.
"Had… enough? I'm dying of shame…"
"You're just as adorable now, Yumiko."
"Ugh—I'm all gross… You always say stuff to trick me."
"I'm not lying." Kagura held her trembling hand on the skirt. "Have I ever lied to you, Yumiko? Let me clean you up."
"Th-Then… please… Thanks."
Miura mumbled, releasing her skirt.
Kagura crouched, casting "Cleanse" on the floor, erasing the puddle. Standing, he addressed Miura, squirming from her soaked lower half. "I need to touch the same spot as last time to clean you."
"Tch… Touch *there* again?"
She clamped her thighs, shyly covering her skirt, near tears.
"Like last time, right?"
Kagura was bluffing—touching her leg or hand would suffice for "Cleanse," but with their intimacy, he wanted more.
It felt a bit like betraying Mai-senpai's advice, but… Mai was a bit nosy.
"No other way?"
"Please, Yumiko, let me touch."
"Ugh—" Miura clutched her forehead, groaning. "Fine… Be gentle, Kagura."
"Uh…"
His hand froze.
Gentle? Wasn't a quick touch enough?
Miura, realizing her slip, stammered, "I-I mean—"
"Shh…" Kagura pressed a finger to her lips. "I'm touching now, Yumiko."
She covered her mouth, closing her eyes, surrendering her body.
His hand slipped under her skirt, wrist lifting the hem. Though not looking, he knew where he was going. His right hand settled on her softest spot.
The wet silk hugged his fingers, her deep lips clasping his middle finger warmly. His fingertips felt her pulsing dampness, index and ring fingers pressing her thicker-than-average lips, soft and springy, addictive.
"Wow… Yumiko, this feels so soft…"
"Ugh… Just touch, don't talk!"
"Can I touch directly, without the panties?"
"N-No way…"
"Please, Yumiko, I want to feel it."
"You… Fine, just a little."
Wiping a tear, she answered softly, torn between fear and excitement.
With permission, Kagura pushed further. He hooked the panties' edge, pulling them aside, exposing her smooth, moist mound. Not fully removed, but enough. His hand pressed again, eliciting a pleased hum.
The sensation was unmatched.
Miura whimpered, legs buckling. She clung to his shoulder to stay upright.
"E-Enough…?"
"A little more, Yumiko."
"How long's 'a little'…? You're such a perv, Kagura."
"Only 'cause you're too cute."
"Ugh, always saying that… Jerk."
She pouted, biting her lip, savoring his touch.
His calloused pianist fingers were gentle, a thrilling contrast to her own touch. She felt her thick lips parted, his middle finger sliding back, easily reaching her slick entrance, oozing fluid.
He curled his finger, sampling her juices, then shifted, pressing his hand to her lower abdomen, middle finger grazing her clit's root, sliding to the sensitive bud. Miura's legs parted, then snapped shut, breathing rapidly, shaking her head shyly, gripping his hand.
"Yumiko… Let me keep touching… your 'mango.'"
"Ugh…" Defeated, she dropped her hands, whispering, "You win…"
"Whether it's you holding it in or now, Yumiko, don't let anyone else see."
"I-I know! You think I'm shameless? I'm not embarrassed? Even I… ah… there—"
"Can I put my middle finger in?"
"No… No way… Absolutely not…"
"You've touched yourself there, right? You've gone in. Let me, please…"
"Ugh… Kagura, you…" Covering her face, she mumbled, "Fine… Go ahead… Be gentle. Trimmed your nails?"
"Don't worry, I trim daily—smooth, no edges."
Originally for Ai, but now Sayuri helped, since he couldn't be with Ai.
"Just… not too deep… I'll be so shy…"
Miura hid her face, unable to look.
Kagura pressed his face to her chest, feeling soft, bouncy warmth through her uniform and bra.
"Idiot… What're you nuzzling?"
"Your perfect breasts, Yumiko."
"Shut up, perv Kagura!"
"Hehe."
He chuckled, his middle finger gliding at her entrance, teasing a contracting, juicy opening.
Instead of entering, he withdrew, lifting his hand to taste her fluids in front of her.
Men have craved that taste for millennia; Kagura was obsessed, craving it daily.
Miura peeked through her fingers, speechless beyond "ugh."
"Your taste is amazing, Yumiko…" He dipped his hand back, casually touching her wet warmth, then offered it to her. "Want a taste?"
"D-Don't show me that! You're bullying me…"
Her nasal voice suggested tears, but she'd only see him as a naughty, lustful little brother.
"Then lick it, Yumiko. Coat my fingers with your saliva so it doesn't hurt going in."
"Ugh—Jerk Kagura…"
Left hand over her eyes, she gripped his wrist with her right, guiding his fingers to her lips, enveloping them in her warm mouth, clumsily coating them with saliva.
"Even just fingers feel so good…"
Kagura pulled back; she didn't resist.
"Ugh—Enough, right? Gotta keep bullying me?"
"Not bullying, Yumiko. I want to touch you more, know you better. Is that okay?"
"It's not… Fine, just touch already, before the saliva dries."
She grabbed his wrist, placing his hand between her thighs.
"Thanks, Yumiko." He paused, sighing. "But let's stop here for today."
"Huh…?"
"Do you want me to keep going? I'm not some tactless creep who only pushes. But if you want more, I'm…"
She turned away, muttering, "Letting me choose… That's even meaner."
"Want to stop? We stop now."
"I… This is fine for today. But… what about you? Aren't you… uncomfortable?"
Intending only to let him watch, Miura held her composure.
"How could I not be?" He slipped his hand under her skirt, repositioning her panties to cover her soft slit, then guided her hand to his bulge. "Look, Yumiko, you're too cute—I'm a mess."
"W-What do we do…?"
She recoiled, intimidated by his hard length.
"Like last time? Please, Yumiko."
He moved her hand along his shaft.
"You win… I'll help once more."
Whenever he said, "Please, Yumiko," her resolve melted, urging her to indulge him.
"Hand's not enough."
"What—?! Getting cocky?!" She squeezed, making him plead, "Please, Yumiko-nee!"
She released him, coughing and turning away. "S-Sorry… Hurt you?"
"No big deal. Please, help me out." He winked, pressing her shoulders. "Another kiss?"
"We're not lovers or anything… Last time was the curse. There's no reason now… Why kiss me?"
"'Cause your lips are screaming, 'Kiss me.'"
He closed in, pinning her against the wall—though she was already there.
"Ugh…" Meeting his earnest gaze, her heart raced. Absentmindedly, she nodded. "Fine—mmph—!"
Before she finished, he kissed her.
Unlike last time, her kissing hadn't improved—unsurprising without practice. This "sanctioned" kiss, unlike her tricked first, was unrestrained. He held her head, preventing escape, lips clashing fiercely.
Like two women grinding toward climax, but faster, harder.
His tongue pried her teeth, rose fragrance flooding his senses. His broad tongue invaded, pinning hers, coiling, probing left, then right, savoring her rose-tinted saliva greedily.
Her hand caressed his shaft, reaching his zipper, pulling it down. She touched him through his patterned boxers, flinching as if burned, then returned, pulling the waistband down. His length, too rigid to free easily, needed twisting.
Once out, it pressed her skirt, leaving sticky traces. She gripped it palm-inward, stroking lightly, her focus on their kiss.
"Huff… huff…"
The kiss slowed, lips parting. Miura chased his lips briefly, a saliva thread stretching, dripping onto her hand holding his shaft.
Meeting his fiery gaze, she deftly removed her soaked silk panties, careful not to touch her shoes. Adjusting them, she wrapped the wettest part around his shaft, turning shyly. Her left hand lifted her skirt, revealing her moist slit and slight clit, the hem pressed to her abdomen.
Her strokes quickened.
"You're amazing, Yumiko… Thank you."
"Shut up! You know how embarrassed I am?"
She glared, tightening her grip. Kagura's right hand roamed, settling on her left breast, teasing. She said nothing, so he kneaded gently.
"Geez…"
Only when her nipple stiffened did she scold him.
"Please, Yumiko, let me touch more."
"You win… Do it."
His hand returned under her skirt, caressing her warm valley.
Miura trembled, and Kagura, unable to hold back, unleashed streams of thick semen into her panties, soaking them, dripping down her hand.
The sight pushed Miura to climax. Her grip faltered, her skirt-holding hand wavered, but Kagura saw clearly—sticky, hot fluid gushed from her entrance, coating his fingers, dripping through them to the floor.