V6Ch3: Wanderer of The Underworld Part 1

Reading Settings

Translator: Soafp

---

The adoption rate of electric vehicles in Japan is still under 5%.

In Japan, domestic car manufacturers dominate the market, and considering the climate, it’s expected to take quite some time before EVs become widely adopted.

Japan is a snowy country. Snowy regions, which experience heavy snowfall, make up nearly half of its land. In fact, Japan dominates the top three rankings globally for annual snowfall.

Under such harsh conditions, which differ greatly from those in other countries, EVs are little more than a pipe dream.

Even the rapid global shift toward EVs has temporarily hit the brakes. As long as you live in Japan, the convenience of hybrid vehicles currently outweighs that of EVs. The road to full EV adoption remains a long one.

Sitting in the passenger seat of a hybrid SUV driven by my mother, I—Yukito Kokonoe—wasn't lamenting the future of the automotive industry.

I had other things on my mind. I was agonizing over something. Just endlessly worrying. My mother had asked me to come along for grocery shopping, but honestly, I'd been troubled the whole time.

Even now, on the way home, my thoughts were clouded. In fact, I'd been feeling this way even before we left.

“What's wrong? Are you worried about something? You've got this look that really tugs at my maternal instincts.”

I wasn't trying to tug at anything, but I had no choice. I made up my mind to ask her.

“I've been debating whether to bring it up… but what's with that outfit?”

I'd been trying to ignore it, but now I turned to look directly at my mom as she drove.

“What do you mean? This is the maid outfit you made for me.”

As if it were totally normal. Was it?

With a chignon on the back of her head, wearing round glasses with chains (non-prescription), white stockings, and a maid outfit—my mom, in full, perfected maid attire, was driving the car.

My world was being consumed by surrealism. Is this the second dimension? What is reality?

“…Why have you been wearing it all the time lately?”

Currently, the Iwakura delegation is working on maid outfits for the culture festival, but separate from that, I had also been making one. When I finally finished a complete outfit, Mom apparently liked it so much that she started wearing it all the time. She even cooked meals in it. Seriously, it freaked me out.

Considering its original purpose, I guess it's practical as workwear, but it still felt off.

By the way, Yuri once tried to fry karaage wearing nothing but an apron. The oil splattered and she shouted, “Ow, that's hot!” She's clumsy like that. Ever since, naked aprons have been banned in our house.

“If you say that, your outfit is pretty questionable too…”

Mom tilted her head with a troubled look. I was wearing a patterned shirt with a collar, sunglasses, and gold necklaces jangling around my neck. I picked a mature look so I wouldn't look out of place walking with a maid—but I attracted so much attention it was embarrassing. Total failure.

“But, well… if I had to say…”

Her voice lowered slightly. She kept her eyes on the road.

“Maybe I've been feeling a bit empty.”

“Empty? You, the super career woman who could make even crying babies go silent?”

I was stunned by her unexpected words. Mom had been busy preparing to go independent. She had tons on her plate.

But that should mean she was feeling fulfilled.

“Of course, work is important. Everything I've done up until now, the new challenges ahead, building my career and growing. In that sense, things are going smoothly… but…”

The light turned red and the car came to a stop. Mom turned toward me.

“That's not me as a mother. As a mother, I haven't built any kind of career. I've got two kids, but I've stayed a beginner the whole time. And before I realized it, you had grown up this much, and I wasn't really there for it. The precious memories we should've shared, the past we should've had together—I don't have that with you. And that makes me feel incredibly guilty… and sad.”

The light turned green, and the car began to move again. Being a hybrid, it accelerated smoothly.

I vaguely understood what she was trying to say. Maybe she didn't feel confident in herself as a mother.

That reminded me—she had mentioned wanting to attend the sports festival. Before that, she also said she wanted to start over as “Mom.” She craved it—the role of being a mother.

“Lately, I've found myself feeling regret. Sekka has way more memories with you than I do. She's so diligent with taking pictures and videos, and I always end up looking at them afterward, feeling this lonely pang. I've become just an observer, watching the finished past from the outside. I ask myself, what am I even doing? What's really important? Even though I know it's unfair to bring this up to you now, after all this time…”

We arrived home, and she parked the car. Despite her outfit, Mom's driving skills were top-notch.

“I think… I regret the weight of the time I can't get back. …I'm sorry.”

Her flawless features twisted into a pained smile, hiding deep sorrow.

“There's still plenty of time from now on.”

It was a hollow comfort. We both knew that. Mom and I.

A one-way street with no going back. There are indeed things that cannot be reclaimed. The time limit for remaining a child is drawing near. Once you become an adult, you inevitably leave the shelter of your parents.

“That’s true.”

The days that have passed hold no meaning. No matter how many gigawatts you pump in, there’s no way to hop in a car and go back in time to rewrite history. The only things we can change are the present and the future.

A brief silence.

Memories cannot be overwritten. The things Mom wishes she had done for little me as a mother—those are now absolutely impossible. They’re fantasies that can no longer be obtained.

I’ve already grown up, and I don’t need those things anymore. I don’t even want them.

That’s why she yearns. That’s why she feels unfulfilled. Mom can’t feel it—her own sense of necessity.

In the end, this is my fault too. Because I never showed Mom that I needed her, she’s now feeling this unstable. Her deep love has nowhere to go, and it’s overflowing.

The recent intensification of Mom's doting is probably a side effect of that. And the reason I've been going along with it is because I hope it eases her heart even a little.

Just to be clear—and I want to emphasize this—this is absolutely not something I'm wishing for.

I get out of the car and start walking. There's one thing I definitely need to say.

“So, about that maid outfit?”

I still can't connect how feeling empty leads to putting on a maid outfit.

“Oh, this? When I wear this outfit, I feel like I just have to serve someone. It's strange, but I feel this sense of devotion welling up from deep inside. And when I think that the person I'm serving is you, I get this warm, full feeling. You made this outfit for me, after all. It feels like I'm wrapped in love.”

“So you found your true calling before even changing careers…”

My mom had awakened to a servant's spirit. Is it like that thing? When cops put on their uniforms and switch into enforcement mode? Uniforms really do have a kind of invisible passive effect.

Damn it. Maybe it was a mistake to let Mom wear a maid outfit. Her already overbearing care-taking tendencies were now being excessively boosted. What a public nuisance!

“When I wear this outfit, I'm a maid. I'll obey any order.”

With sparkling eyes, she puts pressure on me like, “Go ahead, give me an order.”

Morally speaking, a child ordering their parent around should never happen.

Hierarchy matters in this world. It's actually the adult's responsibility to discipline the child.

Teaching manners, etiquette, and morality is a grown-up's duty. Education matters.

I take another look at myself. I look ridiculously sketchy. I should be getting scolded.

Once a kid goes delinquent, it's hard to bring them back. Now's the time for an adult to step in and firmly scold them, to guide them back to the right path. The household of the Kokonoe family cannot be producing punks.

For someone like me, who has never been scolded by Mom, this is a once-in-a-lifetime chance to get properly told off.

So I decide to say something totally disrespectful—something that'll make her snap.

“Oh? You'll really follow any order? Then go pee on that utility pole over there, like some disgraceful mutt. You don't even deserve to be a maid! Kuhahahaha!”

“Understood.”

She lifts her skirt and starts walking. She's really about to do it.

“Wait! I'm sorry! I was kidding! I'm the bad one here! Please stop!!”

I was hoping to get yelled at, but instead, she agreed! I frantically try to stop her.

Isn't this the part where she says, “Don't be ridiculous!” and slaps me!? Am I the one who’s wrong here!?

“I want to serve you, to give my all, to do anything for you, to be needed, to be relied on… Haa… haa…”

“Are you having some kind of dangerous episode right now!?”

Panicking, I rub her back to calm her down. And as I'm doing that, one thought crosses my mind.

At the very least, I feel more at peace and comforted seeing Mom smiling more often now, compared to when she was constantly worried with a gloomy expression. That's good. What matters most is not the past, but the present.

We're both changing—Mom and me.

“I think I'll try to negotiate to participate in an event at the sports festival.”

“…Yeah. I'm looking forward to it.”

Maybe slowing down the swift passage of time isn't all that difficult after all.

When we return to the apartment with my mom—still suffering from some kind of mysterious episode—we find a flag banner set up in front of the entrance.

“What is this…? ‘New Machine Arrival'? …New machine?”

At first, I thought it might be a misdelivered package, but that didn't make sense. It wasn't a package—it was a literal banner, firmly tied to the front entrance.

Was this some kind of harassment?

I had absolutely no idea what was going on. Thinking Mom must be just as confused, I turn to her.

“S-s-s-s-see!? I-I have no idea what this is! I mean, what could it be!?”

“I've never seen anyone so bad at pretending to be calm.”

She was being so obvious. It seems like Mom has some idea what this is about. Honestly, I've got a really bad feeling about this.

When I unlock the door, I hear heavy footsteps and see a familiar face appear.

“Welcome to Parlor Kokonoe! Come in, I've been waiting, Yuki-chan!”

“Sekka-san? And what's with that outfit? Parlor Kokonoe?”

An incomprehensible development that only invited more confusion.

The one waiting for us was my mother's younger sister, my aunt Sekka-san.

She often came over to our house, but today she was wearing a uniform I'd seen somewhere before—a vest over a dress shirt, and an absurdly short skirt.

Her healthy, toned legs were prominently on display.

No one answered my question. Instead, Sekka-san squinted at my maid-outfitted mom.

“What are you wearing, Nee-chan? Don't tell me you went outside like that?”

“You're one to talk.”

So Sekka-san also came here in that outfit? A fifty-fifty chance she's dangerous.

“What are two grown women doing at the entrance dressed like that?”

Yuri-san poked her head out. Supposedly the most sensible person in the household—supposedly.

“…I think you're the worst one here, Yuri,” said Mom, looking exasperated.

I was exasperated with Mom too, but Nee-san clearly outclassed her in madness.

“I told you it's unfinished, right?”

“Oh? I think it's finished just fine. Kind of avant-garde. I mean, fashion shows are basically just public displays of skin, right? This is the same.”

“You'll never set foot in France again!”

Apologies to the fashion industry. Either way, with the weak yen, I'm not in the mood for overseas travel.

Yuri-san was wearing an unfinished maid outfit. The one Mom was wearing was the first completed version, filled with frills and fancy features. But since it used up most of the fabric, the second one only consisted of isolated parts and had been abandoned unfinished.

Yuri was wearing just sleeves, cuffs, a micro-skirt, and an apron. It wasn't even a maid outfit anymore—barely even counted as clothing. The fabric coverage was laughably insufficient.

Every part of her body was jiggling. The unstoppable suction power of Yuri-san.

“I haven't measured, but haven't they gotten even bigger again?”

“Because you grope them so roughly every night.”

“What the hell!? That's completely false and came out of nowhere!”

This is like a modern-day Yucky-do* incident. (*Likely a play on a scandal or a wordplay.)

“You suck them so hard every night.”

“I wasn't disputing that part!”

No touching, no life.

“I'll give you a cyclone later.”

I made a firm vow to thoroughly clean the house. Hell's army. Or was that something else…?

“I always wonder, but is it really that warm in this house?”

Maybe we should lower the A/C temperature. Why is everyone always so lightly dressed?

“Speaking of outfits, yours is pretty outrageous too.”

“Eh?”

Her gold necklace jingled.

A slot machine sat in the living room, radiating overwhelming presence.

“These days, online casinos are being criticized everywhere—”

“Oh, Yuki-chan. This is offline, so there's no problem at all. Relax♪”

Sekka-san clapped her hands and smiled broadly. Is that really the issue?

“Gambling is illegal in Japan…”

“Let me tell you a little secret. Legally, gambling is defined as the exchange of money. What we're betting here is our burning desires, so it doesn't count as gambling. Learned something new, didn't you?”

“Yuri-san, you're so smart!”

“Fufu.”

I don't think now's the time to be smiling, and don't bet stuff like that!

Looking into it to distract myself from reality, I learned that “property” is the legal term involved.
In other words, gambling also includes expensive goods, not just cash.

But claiming intangible things like “desire” are property would never fly. You can't assign a monetary value to them.

Therefore, a cruel conclusion emerges.

After careful thought: “No problem.”

“Really? There's really no problem with this…?”

I couldn't shake the feeling a trap was hiding somewhere. Was I the one in the wrong!?

“Look at all the pachinko parlors around train stations. That's illegal, right?”

“Don't go there.”

Mom touched on the shady “three-shop method,” but if you dig too deep, the state might erase you.

“I bought a used machine and had the details customized. Oh, but I made the video and the reels myself. I poured so much passion into it, it's my masterpiece.”

“I want to praise your dedication… but I really don't want to.”

Sekka-san had always been good at that kind of thing. Apparently, she's now making a killing with side gigs in video editing, and her skills just keep improving.

In the end, having a craft really is the best path to success.

“Look. The reel symbols are our faces. Yours is on there too, Yuki-chan.”

The reels seemed to consist of seven types of symbols. Each one was winking.

Apparently, members of the Kokonoe family were considered “regular” symbols.

In other words, stopping the left, center, and right reels on Sekka-san, Sis, and Mom's faces triggered a payout.

“Wait, what about me?”

“You're the cherry, Yuki-chan. That's why just one of them gives a payout. Lucky, right?”

“Is it okay to take that as an insult?”

Sure, I'm a cherry, but I didn't expect to be teased like this!

“Soon, I'll be your payout too, okay? Now, take a seat, Yuki-chan. It’s set to safe and easy mode—setting six.”

I thought I heard something outrageous, but asking further would only lead to self-destruction.

“But I don't have a single coin to play with?”

You don't use cash for home slot machines. So how do I get coins?

While I was wondering, all three of them had their eyes glitter ominously. This is bad…

“It's on the house. One kiss gets you 100 tokens.”

Yuri-san whispered casually. I ignored her as best I could.

“I wish I could give you a thousand, but sorry, okay?”

Mom looked somewhat apologetic on the surface. But she was grinning.

“Here, Yuki-chan. Go ahead.”

Sekka-san was completely ready. On a warm, lazy afternoon—there was no escape for me.

“…Alright, let's do this!”

With a fresh mindset, I braced myself.

I had 300 medals on hand. Each game consumed three medals, meaning I could play exactly 100 games. But if you converted that into actual time, it would be over in less than ten minutes. Without any payouts, it'd be over in a flash.

I inserted the medals and yanked the lever with a satisfying thunk. The reels spun.

A sharp sound effect accompanied the spinning motion.

But there was no point in trying to match the symbols manually—the outcome was internally determined the moment the lever was pulled.

So I could just press the buttons in a relaxed, left-to-right rhythm.

Even if I focused on timing and hitting rare combinations, it wouldn't change anything; this was just a home machine.

The medals wouldn't turn into money anyway.

Gambling games only get intense when there’s money on the line—without risk, the thrill is gone.

“Oh, it landed on Mom.”

A small combination hit.

A familiar video of me began playing with a nostalgic chime.

“Wait, this is…”

“Surprised, Yuki-chan? When you line up the symbols, my Yuki-chan Collection plays.

We rarely get to revisit these memories, right?

Mother and Nee-san said they wanted to see them too, so I made it fun to watch while playing.”

Sekka-san looked at me with gentle eyes.

On screen was little me, back in kindergarten.

Mom had been busy with work, so Sekka-san had taken care of me.

She probably hadn't wanted to babysit, yet the Sekka in my memories was always smiling.

“I caused you a lot of trouble back then.”

“It wasn't trouble at all. I was happy because of you, Yuki-chan.”

Back then, I couldn't do anything for myself.

I was just a burden who dragged others down.

“You've always had a blank expression, huh? Even back then. But that was part of your charm.”

“Well, Yuri-chan wasn't exactly cheerful either, you know?”

“Hah, as if.”

Yuri scoffed through her nose. Sekka smiled wryly.

It was a warm moment, sharing memories from the past… except for one exception.

“…I couldn't even go to the parent-child field trip with you.”

Sekka had gone to events and school functions as Mom's stand-in.

So I had memories with Sekka, but almost none with my own mom.

That must have become a complex for her.

Now that she had more time, she tried to make up for it by doting on me.

And I understood that—it was her way of healing that regret.

So I couldn't really criticize Maid Mom.

If this was what she wanted, I'd just go along until she was satisfied, until her heart was at peace—
Spending time together.

“Oh, now it landed on Sekka-san.”

Another video played—me in elementary school, having a Christmas party with Sekka.

By that time, I didn't have many memories with Yuri either.

I looked bored on screen, but that was just my usual expression. I was actually enjoying myself.

I never really expected Christmas presents, so even if someone pointed a gun at me, I wouldn't freak out and yell at Mom.

“A Christmas for just the two of us… it's been a while.”

Sekka stared off, eyes distant.

Even with just the two of us, it hadn't been lonely. It was a modest celebration.

“Come to think of it, Yuki-chan, is there anything you want for Christmas?”

That's a little early—more of a fall conversation, really.

But I wasn't at the age to get excited over presents anymore.

And it's not like I needed money.

Oh, I know!

“I want a little sister!”

Behold! All the older women could think of was teasing me.

Girls my age like Hinagi and Shiori wouldn't say outrageous stuff.

Even Kyou-chan and Hiori-chan looked up to me sincerely.

To me, younger girls were a source of comfort.

Please grow up beautifully, just as you are.

“W-what!? I'd love to give you one, but… I mean… who with…”

Maid Mom flailed around in despair.

Come on, don't take it seriously…!

From there, I kept hitting minor wins and racking up medals.

One thousand, two thousand, three thousand.

Once I'd gathered enough, I could exchange them for prizes.

When I asked Yuri what the prizes were, she said different costumes.

Wait—am I the one who made those!?

Why didn't they just make it a non-reward machine?

Now I wondered why I didn't make it medal-free. It's heavy and takes up space…

“Alright! Cherry Yuki-kun!”

As the four of us shared stories while watching old videos, the center of the left reel landed on Cherry Yuki-kun.

Saying it myself only made it sound like sad self-deprecation.

Everyone fell silent.

“It's here! Yuki-chan, it's time for the BIG BONUS!”

Sekka got fired up.

The slot machine lit up like crazy, background music intensifying the excitement.

“What do I do now?”

“Go for the jackpot! You can only hit it during the Big Bonus!”

The Big Bonus continued until the designated payout amount was reached.

Before it ended, I had to land the grand prize—‘777'.

“Hey? Isn’t there no 7 on the reels? I feel like I've never seen it even once…”

I focused my eyes on the spinning reels, but there was no 7 anywhere to be found.

“The jackpot symbol on this slot machine is actually ‘π’!”

“You’re right! If you look closely, it’s not 7s but π symbols!?”

They've gone and developed a completely outrageous slot machine… boundless greed and obsession.

In other words, this is a top-secret sexy slot machine. You can only play it in a home casino.

Suddenly, the tension skyrockets. To hit the jackpot ‘πππ’, precision timing is a must.

I sipped the tea that Maid Mom poured for me. Despite being a home slot, the tension was unreal.

I steeled myself and hit the left reel with perfect timing. In a split second, π landed on the center row.

“You did it! Yuki-chan, you've got great reflexes, probably because you play basketball!”

Sekka cheered excitedly next to me. The left reel showed Sekka's π. Next up was the center reel.

“Why am I getting so worked up over this…?”

It was getting fun. At this point, nothing could stop me! This is it!

“Here it comes, here it comes, HERE IT COMES!”

“I always believed you were the type who could pull it off!”

I landed Yuri's π right in the center of the middle reel. Only one more to go… Take this!

“Fuhahahahaha! How about that! In my hands, this is a piece of cake!”

The right reel's center row shone brilliantly with Ouka's π. Jackpot ‘πππ’ complete.

“Congratulations, Yuki-chan!”

With cheers, loud party poppers went off in celebration. The flashy effects were more than satisfying.

While Sekka hugged me, the jackpot video started to play.

“Mom?”

It looked like a hotel room. Mom was sitting on the bed, being filmed straight on.

Q: Could you start with a self-introduction?
“I’m Ouka Kokonoe. We’re a family of three. As for my age… that’s a secret.”

Q: We heard you’re feeling a bit frustrated?
“I can feel this growing urge to be spoiled more and more each day.”

Q: You're overflowing with maternal instinct?
“I get these urges… It's strange now, at my age, isn't it?”

Q: Are you nervous?
“Yes, I'm not really used to this kind of thing…”

Text captions appeared on-screen as Mom calmly answered the questions one by one.

It was a completely different type of video than usual, and my curiosity was piqued—I was hooked.

Q: Is this your first time doing something like this?
“Of course. I'm usually too busy for this kind of thing…”

Q: Have you been neglecting intimacy because of work?
“No comment.”

Q: Were you looking forward to this?
“Maybe just a little…”

Q: You're being stared at, you know.
“Oh… that’s embarrassing.”

Q: Can you tell us how many partners you’ve had?
“Huh!? That's private, sorry.”

Q: So you're a bit inexperienced?
“That's not true. I'm not that young anymore.”

Q: But you still look so youthful.
“I'm just putting on a brave face. But… my son always says I look pretty.”

Q: Are you mentally prepared?
“I'll do my best… to make it enjoyable.”

Q: Then, shall we take it off?
“Yes.”

Mom stood up from the bed and reached for her clothes—then the video cut off.

“What the hell kind of obscene video is this!?”

I slammed the table and stood up from my chair with a bang.

This is outrageous! No matter how you look at it, this is too much!

Who's the director!? Bring me the idiot who wrote this ridiculous script right now!

“You there! Is this really the time to be blushing!?”

Maid mom was looking down, face bright red.

They crossed the line. You've finally done it, haven't you!?

“Yuki-chan, don't worry, I was the one filming, okay?”

“In what part of that video is there anything reassuring!?”

If anything, it was nothing but unsettling! What's going to happen to Mom after this!?

“But, but, didn't you want to see what happens next?”

“Of course I do! I'm so curious it's keeping me wide awake at night!”

Wait a minute. The video only showed Mom.

Don't tell me… there are three different versions of this?

“Yuri-san?”

“There's one of me too, so don't worry.”

“Does no one here understand what the word worry means!?”

Panting. A wave of exhaustion suddenly crashed over him.

Family bonding… a new era has arrived.

“Why are you so quiet?”

I asked the maid mom, who was trembling and clearly holding something in.

“It's just… the shame hit me all at once just now…”

“Even though it looks like it's been a while since the recording!?”

So she was totally fine with it until now!?

What were the three of them conspiring about behind my back…?

It's one thing to be excluded from my own family — that's actually preferable —but this time the damage to me is massive.

“We got a little carried away. I regret it.”

Shun and Maid mom looked dejected.

When they make faces like that, I can't even complain.

“I'm not mad or anything, but… are you really sorry?”

“I'm sorry. I got swept up by Sekka's sweet talk. Can I sleep with you tonight?”

“Okay, so you're not sorry at all.”

She didn't seem the slightest bit remorseful. In fact, she used this as an opportunity to make a bold demand.

A despicable trap — no matter how I answer YES or NO, the final result will inevitably be YES.

“Mou! Mom, you're being way too selfish. Tonight's my turn!”

“Oh come on, can't you just let me have this one?”

“Huh? Lady, how shameless can you be?”

“You cheeky little brat.”

While Maid mom and Yuri-san were arguing, Sekka-san gave an explanation.

“To make sure Yuki-chan doesn't get bored, the jackpot footage has six full hours of content.”

“That sounds like it could go up to season four!?”

Six hours… so probably two hours per person. Given how that clip started, just what else is on there…?

Too curious to resist, I lined up “πππ” again during the big bonus round.

Q: Please start by introducing yourself.
‘Yuri Kokonoe. I'll say this first — I've decided I'll only ever be with one person in my life.'

“I already saw this scene earlier!”

Now Yuri-san's video was playing.

So it doesn't continue in order!?

Q: Are you sexually frustrated and—
‘I don't like dragging things out. If we're going to do this, let's just get started already.'

Just as she reached for her clothes — the footage abruptly cut off.

“That was so short!? You can't just ignore the format and do whatever you want!”

“She's like that. Yuri-chan's really impatient,” Sekka-san said, looking troubled.

Not that she has any right to say that — she's the one I'm having the most trouble with.

“Hah? I wasn't even that into it from the beginning. It's boring without you around.”

“Ah… okay.”

At this rate, it's going to take over a year to watch all six hours of footage.

Still, I'll just have to keep lining up “πππ” during the big bonus.

…Though I'll probably get bored halfway.

“Don't worry, we've got the full version available too, so you can enjoy it all at your own pace.”

“Don't worry? What does don't worry even mean? Anshin? Hanshin? Fireball straight pitch…?”

Even Mom started saying “don't worry,” and the word started to lose all meaning in my head.
If gestalt collapse is when characters lose their visual recognition, then semantic saturation is when a word's meaning starts to fade the more you hear it.

That's exactly what's happening to me right now. Ha ha…

“What's wrong, Yuki-chan!? Your eyes are spinning!”

Staring too hard at the spinning reels, my eyes were spinning too.

“I have to line them up… Line up three πs…Wait, are there six? Why…?”

My brain slowed down. My thinking capacity had dropped to a dangerous level.

“I have to press it… Is this the button? Wait, it's soft…”

boing boing boing

“Yuki-chan, you're being so forward♡”

“Ah! If you do that too much—”

“No! Don't touch me… there…”

This button was suspiciously… bouncy.

“Huh!? What the hell was I just doing…”

I snapped back to my senses. For some reason, all three of them were giving me sultry stares.

“If I ask why you're all suddenly creeping up on me like that—GYAAAAAHHH!”

I was grabbed and dragged off to the bedroom. —And after that, we played a lot of slot.