The Saturday morning was completely silent.
For the first time in days, Rito woke up alone.
No warm weight on his chest. No sleepy Sachie drooling on his shoulder. No shy Mami curled against his arm like a kitten afraid of the dark.
The futon felt too big. The room felt too quiet.
He lay there a moment, eyes fixed on the ceiling, every inch of skin still tingling with phantom memories. Lala's tail coiled tight around his morning wood like it belonged there. Sachie's small hand resting innocently over his heart. Mami's fingers brushing the waistband of his shorts in her sleep.
His body remembered everything.
And honestly, it wanted more.
Rito rolled out of bed, bare feet hitting cool tatami. The mirror caught him shirtless: lean, but not soft anymore. In canon, he was a physically average human who had developed enhanced durability and near-superhuman reflexes through sheer necessity, combined with a "godly" level of coincidental perverted luck. It had proved one thing, that there always had been potential in him, so Rito picked up on that, and now the situation of his body was beginning to change.
This was intentional. And he was correct in his gambit, his body really progressed at an astonishing rate.
He dropped to the floor. He dropped to the floor, the mat cool against his palms.
One.
Two.
Three.
He continued doing push-ups.
Sweat poured down his back, tracing the fresh grooves of muscle. Veins popped along his forearms like lightning. By rep two-eighty, the first true cuts of a sharp four-pack began to etch themselves across his stomach, lines deep enough to catch and throw small shadows in the morning light filtering through the window.
He flipped over without pause. Two hundred sit-ups. The lower abs screamed, a burning protest. A thick, central vein pulsed along his lower abdomen with every painful contraction—an encouraging drumbeat of blood and desire.
Next, the rooftop. Twenty laps barefoot across the sun-warmed tiles. By the end, he wasn't just damp; he was dripping, the loose fabric of his shorts clinging to his new, solid thighs. The air surrounding him was thick with the raw, earthy scent of hard-earned musk.
He stood at the edge of the roof, hands braced on his knees, chest heaving like a bellows. A warm, quiet conviction settled in the center of his mind. 'If I'm going to protect them, if I'm going to live up to the love they freely give, every rep counts. I'm doing this for Mikan. For Lala. For all of them.'
The city sparkled below, already humming with the energy of a new day. Yuuki Rito felt something beyond his usual panic and nervousness: he felt ready.
…
Downstairs, the scent of tamagoyaki drifted up the stairwell like a comforting embrace. Mikan was already in the kitchen, her apron tied neatly, spoon tucked to her lip as she flipped eggs with a quiet, focused pride.
Lala had also woken up and was freshening up. Meanwhile Sachie and Mami were still sleeping like logs.
She turned as Rito entered, still shirtless, a sweat-drenched towel draped over his neck. Her eyes, usually so composed, widened almost imperceptibly.
"Rito…" The spoon slipped from her lips, clinking softly against the hot pan. "You're… really changing."
Rito rubbed the back of his neck, blush soft but steady. "Just trying to stay healthy, Mikan. And for emergencies."
She stared for another drawn-out second, her cheeks blooming with pink. Then, with a sudden, sharp intake of breath, she spun back to the stove, flipping the eggs with a force that was a little more aggressive than necessary.
…
Mikan set down the tray, steam curling from miso soup, her gaze lingering on the sweat-darkened fabric clinging to Rito's collarbone.
"Training, huh?" she echoed, fingers tightening around the tray's edge. The air thickened with unspoken questions—
'Why now? What emergencies?'
—but Rito only hummed, stretching arms overhead with a casualness that felt like cracked porcelain. A tendon flexed in his neck, sharp as wire beneath damp skin. She remembered the soft boy who'd trip over his own feet; this carved version made her throat dry.
"We need to run to the supermarket." Mikan said, still avoiding his gaze as she poured tea. "We're out of curry roux and I want to try that new recipe."
Before Rito could offer to go, the front door burst inward with enough force to rattle the kitchen cabinets.
"Rito! Mikan! Good morning!"
Lala stood in the doorway, radiant as always, her antennae twitching with enthusiasm. She took one step in, spotted Rito—bare-chested, towel-draped, and undeniably cut—and her signature happy smile widened into a look of delighted scientific curiosity.
"Oh~! Your physique is even more defined than yesterday! The optimal muscle-to-fat ratio is progressing faster than I projected. How fantastic!" Lala strode forward, her tail coiling to balance her as she poked his abs with a surprisingly firm, curious finger.
Mikan sighed, at this point, this much was nothing to her. "Lala-san, if you can, can you accompany Rito to the market? Since Sachie and Mami are still asleep, I'll need to serve them breakfast once they wake up."
Lala instantly snapped to attention, grabbing Rito's arm with both hands. "A mission! Perfect! Rito and I shall brave the Earthling provision center together! Come, Rito~! You need pants!"
…
An hour later, Rito, now properly dressed in a loose t-shirt, walked alongside Lala down the familiar shopping street.
"Are we sure we need to buy five kilos of zucchini after this?" Rito asked, glancing at the long list Mikan had written.
Lala skipped ahead, swinging the oversized, empty mesh grocery basket. "Mikan's list is boring! We need to acquire vital components for Project: Hyper-Caffeinated Pancake Maker Mark VII! I saw some excellent wires disguised as electrical cords at the back of the store!"
"Lala, we are buying food, not bomb parts," Rito said automatically, the phrase feeling comfortably familiar even with his new inner strength.
An old woman couldn't help but comment.
Her dentures clattered against her teacup as she leaned across the bakery counter. "Young man," she rasped, pointing a knobby finger toward the street. "You dropped your dignity back there with the panda."
Rito blinked. He hadn't seen a panda. Or dropped anything. He'd been too busy untangling Lala from a sidewalk bench where her hair ribbons had fused with the wrought iron. Again.
Now the alien princess bounced beside him, humming a tune that made nearby pigeons' flap in arrhythmic panic. Her pink dress – materialized by Peke that morning – shimmered under the midday sun like molten bubble-gum.
"Rito~!" Lala chirped, tugging his sleeve toward the supermarket entrance. A flimsy bag dangled from her other hand, holding exactly three things: wasabi-flavoured marshmallows, banana-shaped erasers, and something labelled Gluon Paste.
"Earth shopping is boring. How about I add some music~ ♡"
Before he could protest, she whipped out a silver cube. It fit snugly in her palm, covered in blinking lights that pulsed faster than Rito's heartbeat. Lala tapped it twice. "Shop-Shop-don: ACTIVATE!"
The automatic doors hissed shut behind them. Instantly, canned tuna cans broke formation, rolling into a conga line down aisle four. Milk cartons slid sideways in perfect unison, moonwalking past astonished shoppers. Onigiri packets somersaulted off shelves, landing in elderly trolleys with soft thumps. Phones emerged from pockets like startled meerkats.
Lala clapped. "See? Much better~ ♡!"
Rito's soul momentarily vacated his body. He stumbled backward into something wet and slick – a puddle of spilled soy sauce near the sushi counter. His feet flew skyward. He landed hard on concrete, tailbone screaming. Lala tumbled backward onto his lap with a surprised oomph! Her tail instantly coiled around his waist like a possessive seatbelt.
Swish-Swish.
Then it happened. The familiar, terrifying pressure against his zipper. Nine inches of unwelcome biology stirred to life beneath thin school trousers. Its curved tip pressed flush against Lala's lower back through her dress. Warmth bloomed where fabric met skin. A damp pearl of pre-cum seeped through both layers.
She wiggled to stand.
Grind.
Grind.
Throb-Throb.
"Rito~" Lala tilted her head back, green eyes wide with innocent curiosity. "Your front-tail is saying good morning again~ ♡"
Nearby, an elderly woman gasped. Her dentures clattered onto the supermarket tiles as her purse tumbled from her trembling hands. Rito lunged forward instinctively—sweat-slick hands scrambling across cold linoleum—only to trip over Lala's coiled tail. His face plunged straight into the teenage clerk's apron pocket. Softness cushioned the impact, warmth radiating through thin cotton. Beneath the fabric, a distinct bump yielded against his nose.
"P-PERVERT!" The clerk shrieked, stumbling backward. Her cheeks blazed crimson as she clutched her chest. Rito scrambled upright, apologies dying in his throat. His own face burned hotter than the overhead fluorescent lights. Across aisle six, Haruna peeked around a pyramid of dancing ramen cups. Her grip tightened on her shopping basket. "...Yuuki-kun… again." she murmured, a sigh tangled with disbelief.
Desperate escape propelled Rito backward. His shoulder slammed into the humming freezer door. Hinges groaned. The heavy seal released with a hiss of icy vapor. Two hundred bags of frozen peas cascaded forth—a green avalanche burying him up to his neck in frigid pellets. "Cold!" he yelped, breath misting instantly.
Rito was still buried up to his neck in frozen peas when two familiar voices rang out.
"Onii-san became a pea monster!"
He didn't even need to look. He already knew who it was.
Sachie and Mami stood at the end of the aisle, grocery baskets swinging. Mikan had sent them ahead while she finished laundry at home. She had informed him through a text.
…
Mikan: Rito, I'm starting laundry. Sachie & Mami are coming to help with groceries. They're already on their bikes. Don't let Lala-san break the store.
…
"Mikan-chan said you'd need help carrying stuff!" Sachie announced, already kneeling. "But first we have to rescue the prince~"
They dropped their own baskets, tiny hands eagerly brushing peas from his abdomen.
Fingers traced every ridge of tense muscle beneath his thin shirt. Sachie giggled, pressing her palm flat. "Four-packs already~ ♡. Training paid off fast~"
Beside her, Mami leaned closer, her whisper a warm puff against his chilled ear. "It's... really firm..."
Rito's trapped hips jerked. Peas rattled violently around his waist. Deep within the frigid mound, trapped heat pulsed—demanding, insistent, utterly betrayed by his traitorous body.
High above, Lacospo's scout pressed froggy palms against the rooftop glass. Compound eyes narrowed as they tracked the girls' hands roaming Rito's torso.
…
Across the street, the automatic doors of SuperMart Seven hissed open, releasing a wave of refrigerated air onto the sidewalk.
The walk home from the supermarket was mercifully short.
Rito staggered out first, fingers digging into the ridges of overloaded grocery bags. His forearms burned under the weight of juice cartons and rice sacks. Each step made the plastic handles bite deeper into his palms. Sweat plastered his shirt against newly defined ridges along his shoulders where the fabric stretched thin. The afternoon heat pressed down like a damp towel.
Lala skipped ahead, tail swishing like a metronome, humming the Shop-Shop-don jingle she'd just invented. Her tune bounced: "Shop-Shop-don! Buy the noodles and the melon!"
Sachie flanked him, her eyes traced the sweat-darkened line where Rito's collar clung to his neck. Mami mirrored the motion on his other flank, a faint blush climbed her throat as she watched a bead of sweat trail down Rito's temple toward his jawline.
By the time they reached the house, Mikan was already hanging laundry on the rooftop line, humming softly to herself. She spotted them from above and waved. "I'll be down in forty-five minutes! Put everything away nicely, and don't let Lala-san break the kitchen!"
Rito managed a strained nod, face heating at the memory of the catastrophes he just faced.
The cool dimness of the entryway swallowed them whole. Behind him, the door clicked shut. Silence pooled thickly until Lala's delighted gasp shattered it. "Experiment time!" she chirped, pointing toward the guest room.
The door hung open just a sliver, revealing a sliver of rumpled bedding inside. Sachie yawned, but her eyes stayed fixed, alert. Mami shifted her weight from foot to foot, staring at the floor tiles as if they held written instructions. Lala's tailtip tapped a rapid rhythm against the wood-panelled wall. Tap-tap-tap. Like a countdown.
Sachie and Mami dumped armfuls of pudding cups onto the low kotatsu table with dull thunks. Their gazes snapped back to Rito.
The sudden intensity felt physical, like sunlight focused through a magnifying glass. He shuffled backward until his shoulders bumped the hallway wall. Lala bounced past him into the guest room, her hairpin deploying Peke mid-air.
The little robot orbited her head once, swirl eyes scanning. "Privacy protocol initiated." Peke hummed softly. "Sound dampeners activated."
Lala spun back toward the doorway, clapping once. Her smile stretched wide and bright. "Today, we study Rito's front-tail! A hands-only exploration~♡"
A jolt shot down Rito's spine. His mouth went desert-dry. Sachie's half-lidded eyes widened fully – suddenly fully awake, predatory. Mami's blush flared crimson, reaching the tips of her ears, but she didn't look away. Instead, she took a tiny step forward. The scent of caramel pudding mixed oddly with the dust motes dancing in the shaft of light from the room.
Lala produced three pairs of shimmering silver gloves from… somewhere. They looked impossibly thin. A sleek black camera drone, no bigger than a baseball, popped into her other hand. Its tiny lens whirred softly as it oriented itself.
"Hand-Hand-don, version three!" Lala announced proudly. "Features include variable vibration settings, slow-motion capture, and precision temperature sensors~! We'll collect so much data~♡!"
"Peke confirms room sealed. Boundary penetration estimated at…" Peke chimed in, "… negligible under current parameters. Little Mistress is upstairs hanging laundry and then would be preparing afternoon snacks. Estimated return: forty-five minutes."
Rito's shoulders relaxed a little.
'Forty-five minutes. That's… actually doable.'
'Though I feel like that my heart's going to explode. They're so excited… if I say no, they'll be sad. I don't want that. It's just forty-five minutes. I can manage that.'
His outer voice, however, emerged as an embarrassed whisper, "U-um… Lala… are you sure about this…?"
Lala tilted her head, tail swishing. "Of course! Science always demands hands-on research!"
Sachie drifted closer, a predatory stillness in her movements. She pulled a silk scarf from Lala's drawer—soft pink, embroidered with tiny golden crowns.
"How about a blindfold~?" She giggled, already stepping behind him. "We'll make it a guessing game! Guess who's touching or get… an extra round of hands-on~♡"
Mami nodded shyly, clutching her gloves like a lifeline.
Rito's blush reached his ears.
Before he could say another word, the scarf was tied gently over his eyes. It was soft, and smelled like Lala—a smell that both arouses him and relaxes him.
He was guided to sit on the edge of the floating bed. The mattress dipped slightly under his weight. The room went quiet except for three sets of excited breathing and the faint hum of the camera drone.
Lala's voice came from right in front of him, close enough that he felt her breath on his cheek. "Rule: You will have to guess the order, Rito. Wrong answer, and we get to have another chance at the exploration. No peeking~♡, okay?"
Rito swallowed hard and continued to stay silent.
And thus, the experiment began.
*****
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