Chapter 16 - Chapter 14 (Weekend Bonus)

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"Alright, Dad. I'm off."

After finishing breakfast, Aika stood up.

She was wearing her new middle school uniform.

Unlike the black-based uniform of Kamisawa, Nishikita Middle School adopted a dark gray skirt.

The blouse was simple yet fresh, its pristine white hue symbolizing the start of her new life.

The school emblem on the left side of her chest added a cute touch.

A similar emblem was embroidered on her school-approved socks, making her feel like she was now officially a student of Nishikita Middle School.

Though her outfit wasn't particularly revealing, her figure was undeniably striking.

While her face still carried a childlike innocence, her body was clearly beyond the average for her age.

I just hoped she wouldn't catch the attention of male students or teachers.

"Ah, Uncle's getting excited seeing Aika in her uniform."

"N-No, that's—"

I almost denied it but stopped myself.

If I refuted Mizuki's remark here, it would imply Aika had no sexual appeal.

But in reality, her allure was undeniable for her age, leaving me at a loss for how to respond.

"It's okay. I know Dad only has eyes for me."

Seeing my beloved daughter smile so confidently, I felt a pang of regret at my own lack of composure—but more than that, relief that she had found some emotional stability.

No, perhaps "gratitude" was the better word.

I wanted to thank someone for giving her a place where she could feel at peace.

"Hey, Uncle gets excited over my body too, y'know."

"All you've done is paizuri, handjobs, and blowjobs. The real thing is only with me!"

What kind of conversation were these middle school girls having first thing in the morning? And now I was remembering what we'd just done earlier.

"Rude. I licked your asshole too, and did nipple grinding."

"Oh yeah? Well, I've had him finish inside me in every position—missionary, doggy style, cowgirl, you name it!"

Any teacher overhearing this would probably faint.

Thinking about it, what kind of acts was I committing daily with a thirteen-year-old? Not like I could stop now, though.

"And why are you still in your uniform? Don't tell me you're going to school like that?"

Sure enough, Mizuki was still in her track uniform.

A sleeveless shirt and extremely short shorts.

If she couldn't be bothered to change, she could at least throw on a jacket or something.

"It's fine. It's not like my tits are out or anything. Plus, walking around like this, salarymen on their way to work keep sneaking glances at my chest and butt—kinda turns me on, honestly. Wondering what kinda fantasies they're having about me."

She was a full-blown pervert. Practically an exhibitionist at this point.

"It's a privilege while it lasts! At this age, society still treats us like elementary schoolers, so I can walk around braless and pantyless without a care. Wanna try it, Aika?"

"A-As if I would!"

Maybe Mizuki's boldness kept people at bay, but if Aika tried the same, she'd definitely get assaulted. She already stood out enough as it was.

"Come on, let's go! I'll lend you my jacket to wear over it."

"No way! Then no one'll stare! The guy three doors down totally wants to take me from behind—he keeps staring at my butt!"

"Of course they'll stare if you dress like that!"

"Rude! This is the sacred uniform of a track girl! I can do races, classes, lounging, even masturbating in this!"

"You're the only one who does that! And do you even wash it? Don't tell me you wear it for practice too?"

"I own ten identical uniforms."

"That's not something to brag about!"

Setting aside the content, watching their banter eased my worries about Aika's new school life.

With such a close friend by her side, she'd surely be fine no matter what happened.

As her stand-in father, it made me a little lonely—but at the same time, it brought me three times as much joy.

"See you later, Dad!"

Amid the usual chaos, Aika's first day of school began.

It was still early, but maybe she was secretly looking forward to her new life.

I needed to start getting ready for work too.

"Oh, right, Uncle! Almost forgot!"

Mizuki, who should've left with Aika, immediately doubled back. I thought she'd forgotten her bag or wallet, but—

"There's trash by the entrance—can you take it out for me?"

Just a chore.

She must've left it there on her way out and forgotten.

"Thanks a bunch!"

Without waiting for a reply, she sprinted off. That track girl speed.

She'd dumped a bothersome task on me, but Mizuki was also from a single-parent household. Guess she was used to handling chores.

Helping her out a bit wouldn't hurt.

"Alright, before changing into my suit, I'll take out the trash."

I muttered to myself in the now-empty apartment.

The silence I never minded while living alone felt unbearably lonely after experiencing their liveliness.

But that just meant I now knew the warmth of family.

"So bright…"

Opening the front door, the crisp morning sunlight streamed in.

It was a refreshing morning. In the distance, I could hear Aika and Mizuki's voices.

Though my own middle school days were long past, I hoped they'd carve out their own youth in their own way.

"Huh? What's this?"

Stretching toward the sunlight, I noticed something unfamiliar by the entrance.

A bundle of old magazines and newspapers tied with plastic string.

This must've been the "trash" Mizuki meant.

On top was—of course—an adult magazine.

And a foreign one at that. What kind of stuff was this girl reading?

I got that she was at that curious age, but I wished she had at least half of Aika's modesty.

"Guess I'll take it out."

Today was the monthly paper recycling day. I gathered my own trash and the Sarashina household's and headed downstairs.

Sazanami Apartments had a simple layout—three units on the first floor, three on the second, connected by a rusty metal staircase.

At the bottom, the entrance and mailboxes were to the left, while a path to the garden was on the right.

Along that path was the shared trash disposal area.

Someone was already there.

Normally, I wouldn't have batted an eye—morning was trash time, and though I barely knew the other residents, I'd crossed paths with them here before.

Back then, we'd exchanged brief greetings. It was basic courtesy when living in a community.

But this time, I froze.

Because the person there was unmistakably a foreigner.

At first glance, she looked to be around middle school age.

A short-haired blonde girl was carrying trash to the disposal area.

Since she was using the shared trash area, she must've lived here—but this was my first time seeing a white girl on the premises.

Maybe she'd been here long before me, but as someone who paid little attention to the apartment community, I'd never noticed.

The girl was dressed surprisingly lightly. Probably figured no one would care how she looked just taking out the trash.

She wore a thin, unzipped parker over what was essentially a camisole, her ample chest peeking through.

Below that were just hot pants and flip-flops, accentuating her pale skin.

Unsure what to do, I stood there until she noticed me.

"Ah, good morning," she said in flawless Japanese.

She could speak Japanese.

"G-Good morning…"

For some reason, I tensed up even though she was just a middle schooler.

Her eyes were blue, her features strikingly refined—everything about her screamed "foreigner."

Seeing someone like her blending into such an ordinary scene—the apartment's trash area—felt surreal, like I'd wandered into another world. Or maybe she was the one who'd wandered into ours.

The trash bag in her hand and the flip-flops kept it grounded, though.

On closer inspection, she looked even younger.

Her innocent face and the way she greeted a stranger without hesitation added to that impression.

But the curves under her clothes and the shape of her legs were undeniably striking. Guess that's the foreigner difference. That kind of gap wasn't something you saw in Japanese girls.

Since I hadn't run into anyone leaving my second-floor unit, she was probably from the first floor.

I hadn't even known Mizuki lived next door, so it wasn't surprising I didn't know the first-floor residents.

I'd lived here since college but knew nothing about the place.

"Here to take out the trash?"

Obviously—why else would she be holding trash at the disposal area? But I couldn't think of anything else to say. Asking "Who are you?" felt too rude.

"Ah, yes. Taking out the trash before school is my job."

So she did this every morning at this time. Our schedules just never overlapped before.

"Mr. Kasahara, you're earlier than usual, huh?"

I could only smile wryly.

She knew who I was.

Of course—we lived in the same building. Made me realize how little I engaged with the people around me.

"Y-Yeah. Had a bit of a situation today…"

Trying to hide my nervous sweat, I decided to dump the trash and leave quickly.

But I couldn't.

Because she'd spotted the "trash" Mizuki had given me.

"O-Oh… So men really do look at these kinds of magazines…"

Her face turned bright red as she averted her eyes.

I'd completely forgotten. Mizuki had dumped a stack of adult magazines on me.

And the one on top was, of all things, a foreign one—featuring a nude, voluptuous white woman on the cover.

Now it looked like I spent my nights jerking off to white women.

And here was a white girl right in front of me.

This was a recipe for misunderstandings.

"T-This isn't mine! It's, uh—"

I stumbled over the most basic excuse. Sure, these weren't mine—they were Mizuki's—but there was no way she'd believe that.

"I-I'm still a kid, so I don't really get this stuff…"

Despite her words, she kept sneaking glances at the cover.

For a "kid," her body was plenty mature. Her full chest was obvious, and the curves of her hips and waist were undeniable.

Standing there in loungewear, it wasn't like she could blame me if I reacted.

If only my body hadn't betrayed me—

"Um, so…"

Her face turned even redder as she looked down.

For a split second, I caught her glancing at my crotch.

Unbelievably, I was half-hard.

A passing stranger might not have noticed, but she definitely had.

"I-I'll be going now!"

With that, she bolted from the trash area.

This… might've been bad.

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