Repeater

She's smiling, busily applying lipstick and glancing in a hand mirror. Her hair isn't done into its usual braid, instead allowed to spray around her shoulders. There's a certain scent of sweat to her, as though she didn't shower this morning. Her eyes flick up to you, and you can see the worry and concern in them as you look down at her, the vague, hastily-disguised guilt you recognize from a dozen other stories just like this.

"You're cheating on me," you tell her with an affected sigh. It's not exactly unexpected. You don't think you've had a single relationship that lasted longer than a month and didn't end with your girlfriend cheating on you.

"How can you possibly accuse me of that?!" She half-shrieks.

"Because your breath smells like cum." She hurriedly puts a hand in front of her mouth, to smell her breath, then stops herself, wincing. "And because when a person sincerely denies a charge, they just say 'no.' Liars make counter accusations, but not straight denials."

She begins babbling, begging for forgiveness, but you're already disengaged, turning away. You ignore her pleading, which soon morphs into anger as she realizes that you're ignoring her. "You son of a bitch!" She screams at you, and goes on in that vein, but you just march out to your car, and she seems to decide not to make a scene. Well, any more of one, anyway.

You come to a railroad crossing, the red lights blinking, and come to a stop in front of it. You have no family, being an only child and your parents having long gone from this life, but you want to make one. You just never can find a person worth making a connection with. "God, why? Why are all women like this? Why did I have to be born into this world?!" As you ask that question, an tanker truck tries to beat the train, and you only have a brief second of horror before he utterly fails to do so and flaming oil rains down on you and rent-apart car parts smash into your vehicle.

Dying is surprisingly painless, given how violent and flaming it is. Maybe your brain is just unable to process the pain because there's too much too fast.

As your vision fades out, you expect not to wake up at all, but instead you do in a hospital room, surrounded by giants. Your eyes can't see well, only blurry shapes and forms, so you blink rapidly, trying to clear them. They're speaking, but it's not a language you understand. You'd have assumed you had some kind of brain damage that made you unable to understand language, but the sounds are more like Japanese than English, not just gibberish.

It only takes perhaps a half-hour before you figure out what's going on, even if it's completely insane and nonsensical to the point you initially believe this is a near-death fever dream. Your face is pressed up against a giant of a woman's tit, and she gently coos and pets you. A male figure, as blurry as anyone else, makes some vague pitter-patter of appreciation as well, reaching for the woman's shoulder.

Your mother. Your father.

The thought is completely insane and nonsensical but it is also completely unavoidable and irrefutible. You died. You were reborn, presumably in Japan, except you remember everything from your past life. A terror drags at your thoughts, that this is normal, that all babies actually remember their past lives but those thoughts are inevitably torn apart and thrown to nothing.

That, in fact, does not happen.

You get a loose grasp on the language within a few weeks - it's not as if you have anything better to do - but you don't think it's actually Japanese, it just sounds like it. It's not tonal like Chinese either, and the phonemes are all wrong for Korean. Your confusion only sharpens when you realize you sleep peacefully through the night, something you're reasonably certain human babies cannot do.

There's a toddler at your home, a little girl if her clothes are to be believed. Your parents apparently are quite wealthy, given how spacious the home is. You have absolutely nothing to do with your time as an infant incapable of speech or even crawling, so your first months are full of repetitive, tedious paying attention to your environment to try to glean any information, or running what speech you've heard over and over in your head in an attempt to speed learning the local language. You hang on to every word your mother speaks down to you. Getting nursed, at least, is quite pleasant, with the taste of fresh breastmilk being positively delightful to your little baby body. You do notice that your mother tends to wear low-cut shirts and sweaters around the house - either for ease of access for you, or because that's her style.

It takes months to reach the point where you're even capable of crawling, and by that point you have a fairly solid grasp on the language. "Hey there, little Nanashi," your mother coos, as she picks you up. Her name is Kimiko, you've learned by now. She's very warm as she holds you.

"Mama," you manage. You tried to say 'Kimiko' at first, but the hard sounds don't really work with your little baby mouth.

"That's right," she says, smiling. "You're a smart little guy, aren't you?" You nod, and her smile grows broader, more indulgent. "Your sister took much longer to start talking. I can tell you're going to be a real special kid."

"Mommy!" You hear your older sister - Fumiko - call out from another room, and Kimiko sighs, carrying you with her over to check on her eldest. "Mommy, I want to play the game!"

"Which game, sweetie?" Kimiko asks, in a long-suffering tone of voice.

"The game with the rings!" Fumiko says it demandingly, selfishly.

"Okay, dear," she says. She gently sets you down on the couch and collects the toys, some plastic rings and pillars. "Now, you remember how to play, right?"

You sit up on the couch, your hands in your lap. With such a bratty older sister (honestly you have no idea how bratty she is relatively speaking - you were an only child and never had kids in your past life, after all), you try to be the most perfect, well-behaved baby for your mother. She's an incredibly attractive woman, looking to be around thirty, with her hair done back in a bun, an easy, constant smile on her lips as she tries to manage Fumiko's worse excesses.

When she comes back to you, bouncing you on your leg, she gently pats your head. "You're a very good boy, Nanashi. My special little boy."

You try to say 'thank you,' but it comes out more as "Bamk oo." She seems to get it anyway.

"You're very welcome to be a good boy," she tells you, sweetly, her breasts pressing against the back of your head as she watches Fumiko. You're no longer at breastfeeding age, but her bosom is still incredibly full and frankly gorgeous. Your dad really picked out a looker. You never did learn his name: he's at work a lot, and while your mother speaks to him fairly frequently on the phone (a lot of financial things, she's not quite just a housewife), she always calls him pet names like Darling. Fumiko calls him "Papa," and his employees only refer to him as Kusakabe-sama.

Kimiko seems almost effusively in love with your father, and despite him being a pretty busy man, the two have sex literally every single night you have been alive if the sounds you hear are any indication.

You're not taken out too much, but the mansion has a number of servants at it, even if Kimiko takes a quite personal hand in watching after you and Fumiko. When you do leave, you have a driver, and there's an in-house cook, and a nanny and a house cleaner; that's the sort of family you've been (reborn) into. The cook and the nanny are also quite attractive, but despite their frequently risque choice of clothes, you're reasonably sure that your father has no interest in them.

You are, by the standards of any baby, an incredible genius. You were a forty seven year old with a Bachelor's in Mathematics, which is just about the only thing that is guaranteed to be the same as back on Earth. You've seen a world map for this place, and it's not just alien in terms of the continents, but in terms of climate. The further south you go, the hotter it gets, period, even though the world is a sphere. That seemed completely wrong, given what you know about climate, but every single piece of evidence you've acquired in your stay here suggests that it's so.

You're nearing the age when you'll be able to operate at least vaguely independently. You still don't know how to read or write the local language, but you've got the basics of the local alphabet (which puts the bullet in the idea that the local language is Japanese - it looks more like Hylian, frankly) down okay. Your teeth are growing in, though you think you're a way off from a full set still.

The question then is, how are you going to handle it?

You decide to run with it. You're smart enough to earn a high position in life, even if you'll have to relearn... well, basically everything except for mathematics. You start asking Kimiko to read you books, and become a voracious reader-by-proxy, examining every single word as Kimiko reads through it. "If won" ("This one") becomes your catchphrase as you point to this or that character, and Kimiko gladly repeats every single one for you.

Fortunately, it's not just the alphabet that's different for the local language, but also the structure of said alphabet. Rather than having to learn a ton of kanji, the alphabet is comprised of specific sounds, like in katakana (from what you remember of Japanese, anyway). There's only around forty different characters, and you manage to rather quickly get a grasp on most of them.

Kimiko is quite impressed by your progress as a budding reader. You're not even really able to talk, most of your teeth not having grown in, but you're functionally literate, even if only at a low level. Once you reach the point where you can read simple books on your own, she becomes so excited that she just has to show it off to your father as he comes home from work one day.

He seems dubious at first, but when you show off your ability to answer simple questions that have been written down, he becomes quite impressed as well. "He must have gotten it from you," he says, kissing Kimiko on the cheek.

Kimiko blushes like a schoolgirl with a crush. "A~h, honey," she says, sweetly. "I'm glad you think so much of me, but I'm fairly certain I couldn't read at nine months."

"I'm sure you could have if you had put your mind to it," he teases. "But yes, it's quite impressive. Would you be interested in some more books, little Nan-chan?" He asks you, and you nod vigorously. "Talk to Arata-san about buying some more books that are at his level. Looks like he's already outpaced Fumiko in that regard. Ah, don't tell her I said that."

Your first year or so of life soon comes to a close, and with your little baby body, there's not much you can really do besides read. You words come out wrong, with too few teeth having grown in yet to really pronounce them, and the kinds of childish play that Fumiko adores don't carry that much interest to your adult mind. (You do play some, of course. Just reading all day would probably get pretty boring, especially given you're still working your way up to being to read things that don't amount to the local equivalent of "See Spot Run" and "The Berenstain Bears.")

Then, enters Mariko.

For you, she simply arrives one afternoon with a rolling luggage trailing behind her, her choice of midriff-baring clothes showing that her belly has started to swell; she's perhaps a month or two pregnant. One of the household servants helps her carry in suitcases and bags as she moves into one of the guest rooms.

Your mother tries, very briefly, to get along with her, but the two are like oil and water. Where Kimiko is the ideal genteel lady and clearly has a good head for finances on her shoulders, Mariko struggles with money management to the point that she just groans out "Just have your husband decide" whenever Kimiko tries to confront her about such spending. (Kimiko does eventually manage to get your father to give Mariko a set allowance each month, and those arguments, at least, die down.) That's hardly the only argument they have - the things Kimiko considers important, Mariko doesn't care about, and vice versa.

The fact that, once she moves in, your father starts fucking Mariko every morning to pair with fucking Kimiko each evening, can't help. (If he ever misses the morning fuck, he fucks Mariko then Kimiko come evening.) Well, "starts." You've got a pretty good idea where Mariko's increasingly swollen belly comes from.

While Kimiko still seems just as effusively in love with your father (and Mariko is similarly infatuated) the two women grow increasingly cold to one another. At some point they just stop talking altogether, except for the occasional heated argument over something like Mariko misplacing the TV remote or Kimiko throwing out recently-expired candies that Mariko had bought but not finished yet.

When Mariko is about six months pregnant, Kimiko excitedly tells you one morning that, "You're going to have a baby brother or sister soon." It confuses you, to hear her be so happy about that thought.

"What you mean, mama?" You ask, in confusion.

"When a man loves a woman - and you should make sure you only do this with a woman you truly care about - he will, hm, play an adult game with her," she explains. "Sometimes, playing that game will make the woman get what's called 'pregnant.' You know how Mariko's belly keeps getting bigger and bigger?" You nod. You never asked about it because you're not stupid. "That's because she's pregnant with your father's child. And now, I am too," she says, a sing-songy lilt to her voice.

"I'm happy for you, mama," you say, giving her a gormless smile, and she sweetly pecks your forehead, ruffling your hair.

"You are such a good boy," she says, smiling warmly down at you.

With the knowledge that both Mariko and Kimiko are pregnant, you do begin to grow a bit concerned about your developing home life.

You decide to try to just get along with both Mariko and Kimiko (and your father, though, again, he's rarely around). As Mariko gets further and further along in her pregnancy, so too do your language skills get better and better. You're reading books at maybe a third grade level, and the concepts are easy for you to grasp.

Your learning advances apace. Local science seems around the same level as that of Earth, with an understanding of astronomy, geography, climate, that is at times bizarre and unpredictable but also basically sound and logical, even if the explanations are different. There aren't any aliens (that people know of) or magic (that people know of).

The countries of the world are spread across four major continents, with a number of smaller islands branching off each; Kurogaya, the country you live in, borders a country called "Yangufangu," which seems to be something vaguely like a more modern Qing China? There's also a "Republic of Wesumiru," which seems like the good old USA, except for the fact that there are no black people and everyone there is blonde haired and blue eyed, which you're not sure if it's concerning or simply a different history. Politics in Kurogaya seems like a close parallel to that of Japan's, with a number of very powerful vertically integrated companies and a single political party that's ruled functionally uncontested for around a hundred years. Your father is pretty high up in one of those vertically integrated companies, which is owned by your second cousins or something to that effect.

Mariko gives birth to your younger half-sister, who she names "Momo," and promptly begins nursing. You get some confirmation that you are not the only impossibly well-behaved baby in this universe when Momo sleeps soundly through her first night at home.

When your younger fullblooded sister - who Kimiko christens "Minori" - is born, you do learn something new about this world. You had seen on television various Asian-looking people with platinum blonde hair, or purple, or pink, or blue hair. You had just assumed it was dyed and that was considered socially acceptable (as the literal Emperor of Kurogaya has dark blue hair), but Minori's hair is a very light blonde from the moment she's born and never shows the slightest sign of aging.

"Mama, how come Minori has different hair from you and papa?"

"Hm, that's a very complicated question," Kimiko replies. "Basically, children take after their parents, but not everything about a person is shown to the world, right? Sometimes you have secrets, or things you changed about yourself and left behind. The same is true of things like hair color. Your father and I have the potential for our hair to have been blonde, but it's something that was hidden away. You can only have one hair color, after all." You nod along. "Sometimes black or brown hair, like yours or mine, is what gets expressed. Sometimes it's blonde hair, or blue, or pink. Does that make sense?"

You nod. "I think I get it. So if I had a baby, she might have red hair?"

"Exactly. Or purple, or any other color."

"How come all the Wesumiru people are blonde, then?"

"They don't have the hidden potential to have another hair color," your mother explains. "Even if they were to marry a Kurogayan person, a Wesumiru would just have a blonde child, it's so dominant." That's basically the opposite of the way it works back on Earth, but you nod along. Bizarre. "You are a smart one," she says, with a kiss. "That was a very intelligent question, Nan-chan."

The fact that genetics are different here makes you suddenly wonder if the fact that Kimiko feels so warm isn't just a feeling, but something really different about her. "How come you're so warm, mama?"

She gives a little laugh. "Now where did that come from?" She plays with your hair a bit. "I'm the same temperature I've always been."

"You're warm, though."

"Well, girls are warmer than boys," she explains. "There's lots of differences in how girls and boys have their bodies set up, and as a consequence, girls are a bit warmer than boys."

You nod along, working things out in your head. You want to investigate a bit more into human biology and the differences between boys and girls here, but it seems like Kurogaya is quite sexually conservative and not interested in giving such materials to a two year old. Cruel.

As you grow older, you finally reach a level of literacy where you can enjoy books for entertainment or education. You're not exactly a speed reader, but you can work your way through a history textbook meant for adults, something that quite impresses your mother and father.

Momo starts trying to play with you. "Wanna play!" She says, excitedly, just a year old. You indulge her at least a bit, but do try to focus on your reading.

Soon enough, Minori's old enough to play too, and she tries to demand your attention with an almost jealous focus. Fumiko also suddenly becomes a big hypocrite, saying to Momo that you're busy reading while letting Minori bother you no matter what.

You try to play with both Momo and Minori, helping to lighten the load on Mariko and Kimiko, which is something both women appreciate. They don't seem inclined to take out their little conflict on you for intervening in this manner, at least, which is good.

You get older. Your plans to go to college at age six are dashed pretty much instantly by your father. Apparently the Kurogayan school system is extremely strictly age graded and - particularly given the Kusakabe wish to appear in accord with social custom - under absolutely no circumstances will you be allowed to skip a single grade. Your father does hire private tutors, all of whom are sadly male.

First year of school is, as expected, exquisitely dull. Your teachers take a fairly hands-off approach to you as you work your way up through the grades, often bringing in some other books to read which are more to your grade level. You do offer help to other students, but they are literally children struggling with multiplication, basic spelling, and identifying Yangfang from Wesmere (it turns out those are the correct pronunciation, but Kurogayan can't render them). You have no emotional connection to any of them.

Still, extracurricular activities, at least, can serve as a way to focus your mind and get at least a sliver from the tedium. What do you do during the long years as you slide up towards high school age?

You take up martial arts; the local equivalent of wrestling or judo, first, then joining your older sister as a fencer once you're old enough that the size difference isn't insane. You have to do it at home, with a tutor your father hires, since the school isn't set up to teach either unarmed martial arts or fencing. One thing you do learn from fencing is that even though boys are bigger than girls, they aren't really stronger.

The current world record for deadlifting is held by a man, but the number two spot goes to a girl, and nobody comments on it at all. There's lots of things like that, where men and women in your own world would have a gulf of ability, but here are functionally indistinguishable.

As you get older, you also get into dancing and swimming, cultivating a physique of agility to go with the understanding of how to fight. You become nearsighted, like your mother and older sister, and have to start wearing glasses and contacts. The dynamics of your family find their level, with Fumiko almost monomaniacally focused on fencing, while Minori becomes very interested in history, to the point she babbles endlessly on about this or that new thing she learned with you whenever she gets the opportunity.

As puberty hits, you're suddenly shocked by the change in your female classmates. Sure, your mom and your dad's mistress are hot, but he is a rich man and he's probably choosy. Sure, the girls on TV are hot too. Sure, your nanny and cook are hot as well. Most of your teachers. But you just figured, you know, coincidence, people putting the effort in, television being about pretty people. But as puberty hits, every girl seems to develop into some kind of babe or other. This one gets big tits. That one gets a willowy figure. Nobody is fat, there's no acne, nothing. They just suddenly grow into beautiful young women. The fact that this coincides with your own puberty makes it particularly difficult - you'd been recognizing women as gorgeous, beautiful, hot, but now your body has started making hormones again and you are increasingly desperate to fuck.

At about the same time, you get sex education. The girls and boys get taught separately, with the boys' sex education being hideously pathetic and basically amounting to "Don't have sex until you're with the person you'll love for the rest of your life," and "Don't rape girls, it's wrong and EXTREMELY illegal and you WILL be punished." You talk to Fumiko about it, and she's initially surprised that it's so anemic and shitty, which suggests that she had a real sex ed - but then she decides not to tell you anything at all about what she learned, apparently having decided that there was good reason not to.

The fact that women get a complete sex education and men don't is odd. Some kind of lopsided sexual conservatism?

Your first day at high school comes fairly quickly. You're already working at a very high level, studying the family business so that you can slot into a job at the corporation where your father works easily. That seems to be the path your life trajectory is set on. Just like at your previous school, every single girl in your age cohort is a natural beauty of one kind or another.

Classes in Kurogaya are taught by a single teacher who covers all the subjects, with colleges being when you actually have specialized teachers. It's intended to allow better teacher-student relationships and encourage close friendships with other students, apparently. So when you file into your classroom, you're going to be spending the next several years with all these people. You take a long moment to pick out who you'll sit next to.

You wind up sitting down behind a girl with a sort of pinkish hair color, who sits up straight in her seat, hands pressed together. "Now, some of you already know each other," the teacher says, as she writes her name on the board. AMAYA-SENSEI. "We're going to be spending time together, so let's go around the room, introducing ourselves."

Everyone does so. The girl in front of you is Reiko, the one to your left is Yuriko, the one to your right is Terumi, and the one behind you is Sumiko.

"It's traditional to have an election for Class President each year," Amaya says. "It will take place on the first Monday of next month. Being class president is a lot of work, but if you excel and get reelected, it is a representation of an ability to effectively gain and maintain loyalty, to lead and manage a group - in short, the sort of thing that universities and businesses look for." She peers out over the group with a serious expression. "Some of you may not care about that sort of thing. In any case. Let us begin. The first subject of the day is mathematics."

You know this, so you can get away with a glance to the sides. Yuriko leers openly at the teacher as she turns around, just staring wantonly. She resumes a prim posture each time it looks as if Amaya might turn around. Reiko is hurriedly making notes, the scritching noise of her rapid writing on paper quite loud. To your right, you think you catch Terumi glancing your way a couple times before staring back at the board.

You hear a screech from the girl behind you as her chair moves, and you glance backwards (as does the teacher). The girl sitting there is leaning back, legs kicked up on the desk, a notebook on her lap, a pen in her hand. "Something the matter, Sumiko?"

"No, no. Just taking notes," she says, raising the hand with the pen. "This way of sitting's a lot more comfortable."

Amaya fixes her with a withering gaze. "Sit back down, properly," she says, after a few seconds, when it becomes clear that Sumiko won't do so on her own. Sumiko grumbles but obeys, leaning forward and screeching her seat back around to where it was earlier.

"Ahem. In any case, as I was saying," Amaya begins again, returning to discuss very rudimentary high school mathematics.

The subject eventually turns over to History, and finally there is a break period, during which you can stretch your legs, enjoy a brief lunch, or speak to another student.

Yuriko turns her gaze from Amaya over to a mauve-haired girl whose name is Kiyomi, absently licking her lips as the buxom girl turns her seat around so she can face Noriko and talk. Noriko is quiet, for her part, just nodding and staring ahead. She has a black eye and a busted lip, something no one has commented on.

Reiko is bothered by some other girl, a Japanese-looking blonde named Kyoko, who seems to have some history with her. "Gonna cheat again?" She asks, venom in her voice.

"I did not cheat," Reiko says quietly.

Sumiko on the other hand, is up and walking around, stretching her legs. She fiddles with the window until the teacher tells her to stop, then decides to just lean against it, enjoying the sun on her skin. Shuichi comes by and the two of them chat a bit.

Terumi remains in her seat, quietly removing a box of food and opening it, eating with a slow and careful poise.

You decide to turn your attention over towards Terumi. Yuriko obviously has prurient interests elsewhere, and you don't particularly want to get involved in Reiko's little bitchfight with Kyoko. "Nice lunch," you comment, by way of icebreaker, with the casual smoothness of a man who has extensive romantic experience.

"Oh, thank you. I prepared it myself," she explains. "What did you bring?" She asks.

"Something from home," you say, removing your own packed lunch. The family cook made it, but if this world is anything like your own, it's probably not best to mention it.

"You're Nanashi Kusakabe, aren't you?"

"Uh, yes," you say, now worried that she's going to make something of your family's money.

"Ah. I had heard about you. My mother was your teacher at Kasahari," she explains. "She seemed very impressed with your work ethic, saying that you never failed to make an A and generally made a 100."

"Oh, your mother is Kayo-sama?" You ask. "She was a wonderful teacher." Mostly. Probably. Hard to evaluate when you already learned everything she was teaching years ago, but why not make good conversation with the chesty, cool-headed girl. "I'm glad that she thinks so highly of me," you add, with a smile.

"I'll tell her you said that. Sometimes I got the impression she thought she wasn't very useful to you because you were so smart." Which is probably true but no reason to rub it in.

"How is she, by the way?"

"Oh, she's well," Terumi says, with a gentle smile.

You speak to Terumi, getting the measure of the girl. She has just a trace of fascination with you, enough that you're not entirely certain you're not just imagining things due to being in the body of a horny teenage boy. She's an only child, and apparently from a fairly well-off family, with her mother teaching more as hobby or self-actualization than financial need.

"Did you go to Kasahari before this?"

"Oh, yes," she agrees.

"Odd that I didn't see you there."

"Well, obviously they weren't going to put me in my mother's class," she says, with a smile. "I think I may have seen you once or twice," she says, as if unsure. "Hm. Were you on the swim team?"

"I was, yes."

"That must have been it," she says, with a nod, to you or to herself. "I'd sometimes watch the swim team," she explains.

"Did you have an interest in joining? There were plenty of girls, you know." You suddenly feel a vague tinge of worry that that is an odd thing to say, given literally every sport in this entire world is mixed.

It doesn't seem to process as strange for Terumi. "Oh, no," she says, with a brief shake of her head. "I don't really like what it does for a girl's figure, to be so athletic." You have absolutely no idea what it does for a girl's figure, as all the girls on your swim team also bloomed into nothing less than an 8/10 and mostly 9s and 10s, but you nod along.

"So why did you watch, then?" You're trying to angle her down, work out what kind of girl she is. Is she interested in you? It seems likely, given she watched the swim team without wanting to join and recognized you from her mother's description (?), but you don't exactly have any hard evidence even if you do have a hard on.

"Oh, I just liked the gracefulness of the movements, you know? Walking on land, humans aren't that lovely in our stride as we are in the sea. It's a strange little irony."

"So what extracurricular activities did you spend time with?"

"I was in the cultural club," she explains. "We'd read and discuss famous literature, like the works of Toriyama." Isn't that the name of the DBZ guy? It's probably just a coincidence. Different history, different culture.

You nod along. "I read a lot, though mostly nonfiction. History, science, stuff like that."

"You must be very smart, then," she says.

"Well read," you correct. "Just reading can't make you any smarter on its own."

"Mm, I suppose that's true," Terumi says with a small nod. "May I try a bite of your meal? It looks quite delicious, your mother must have worked very hard on it." You don't correct her, but do offer her a bit, which she takes in her utensil and spoons into her mouth. "Mm, delicious," she says, chewing softly. "My compliments to your mother. Would you like to try some of mine?" She offers you hers, enticingly.

"Sure," you say. Her own lunch looks to be a few thin slices of meat, some rice, some lettuce, with seasonings to make it pop. You spear a slice of meat and tear into it. Terumi looks at you expectantly, smiling. "Delicious," you say, and she positively beams.

"Thank you very much, I put a lot of effort into being a good cook. You're actually the first boy I've had try any," she adds. "If you ask me, too many girls nowadays don't even really bother to learn classical feminine virtues like cooking, cleaning, or flower arrangement. Some even take pride in not knowing," she adds, with a shake of her head, before spearing another slice of meat and eating it.

"Perhaps it's a good thing. It means that if you do study them, you stand out."

"That is true," Terumi says, with a thoughtful sort of voice. "So you think I stand out?"

You're not quite sure if that's a show of interest or not, but you roll with it. "I am talking to you rather than any of the other girls in class, aren't I?"

"That's also true," she says. "But you didn't know I'd cooked my own lunch."

"Perhaps the smell of it subtly attracted me," you tease, and she blushes. Okay, good, she is attracted to you, by the way her eyes flick down to her meal.

"What would you recommend, for an avid reader looking to get into fiction?"

Her eyelids flicker and she looks up at you, unsure, thoughtful. "The Tragedy of Tomoko Sakamoto is a classic. It's set in the warring states period. It's the story of a young woman who is disgraced by her treacherous cousin, cast out of her family, but finds a new lover among her old enemies, eventually culminating in wreaking vengeance upon those of her former household. It's intended as a tragedy, but I think, with modern values, it reads more like a revenge story. You can buy Ren Yamasaki's modernization, it updates the language without losing the nuance of the original."

"It's good, then?"

She snorts, smiling softly. "Yes. It's good. It has romance, it has fighting, it has love and revenge and loss, it's one of the great works of Kurogayan literature."

"Sounds like a long book," you say, and she nods.

"It's actually generally sold as three separate volumes, which is sort of how it was originally published," she pauses. "Ah, but that's historical minutiae."

"I'll definitely see about getting a copy. My family might already own one, even."

"The library here might have it, too," Terumi points out.

You nod. "So what do you do for fun, Terumi? Besides the reading, obviously."

"I like plays," she says. "Movies, sometimes, especially historical ones or adaptations of books I've read. Some people complain, but I like to see the differences, the way the two mediums collide, you know?" You nod along. "Hm. Sometimes I treat myself to just listening to some soothing music and settling in for an hour long bath, does that count?" Your fucking teenage brain immediately visualizes her naked, and she wears a very sly smirk. "Of course, I also like to cook, clean, work on my flower arrangements, practice my calligraphy... you get the idea. What do you do for fun, Nanashi?"

"Mm. Fencing, swimming, kakutogi," you say, referring to the throw and grab oriented unarmed martial art you've made your acquaintance with. "I play with my little sisters. Otherwise, mostly, I love to learn. Oh, and dance."

"Oh, you're a dancer?" She smiles at that, pressing one finger to her lower lip in a way that makes her look very cute. "Maybe you could teach me. If you have the free time, of course."

"As long as you don't mind learning from someone who is still learning himself," you tell her, gently smiling. She blushes a bit. Damn, young girls are a lot easier to seduce when you're an attractive, smart, athletic teenage boy than when you're a man in his forties. Why didn't you do this the first time? "I've been working on ball room dancing, for the most part," you explain. Slow dances and close ones, the sort of 'high brow' dance. "If that's your speed."

"I would be honored if you taught me what you know," Terumi says, with a small bow of her head. "Could I walk home with you after school? That way, we could get started immediately."

"We could also practice in the gymnasium," you point out.

Terumi blushes slightly. "We could do that, if you prefer. I would hate to intrude unnecessarily."

"You wouldn't be intruding," you say, with a smile. "I'd gladly walk you to my home. Though, technically there's a driver who will come round to pick me up."

"Even better," Terumi says, smiling happily. Then she frowns slightly. "Well, actually-"

A bell rings loudly, and Amaya taps her knuckles on her desk loudly. "Right. Back to your seats. Let's get to work."

The remainder of the day passes uneventfully, beyond Terumi very subtly slipping you a note. Amaya's a sharp teacher but she doesn't notice it anyway, and you manage to unfold it under your desk without making more than a perfunctory amount of noise.

Could we walk to your house, or take the bus? I want to know how to get to your place, so I can find my way home.

You trade a note back to her.

The driver can drive you back.

I'd hate to impose so much, we've only just started talking.

It's not really an imposition.

I wouldn't feel right...

Okay, then, if that's how you feel.

Terumi visibly sags in relief as she sees that, smiling and refocusing on class. You do as well. Well, you focus on your book, which covers the same basic subject as Amaya's teaching, but at a much higher level.

When the schoolday ends, you and Terumi walk out to the outer grounds, so you can tell your driver you'll be walking home. He frowns. "Kusakabe-sama wouldn't want you to walk all the way home alone, Nanashi-san."

"I'll be fine."

He thrums his fingers on the steering wheel, looking at you uncertainly, then at Terumi. "I'll follow you in my vehicle," he decides. "That way you can walk, but I don't get in trouble for leaving you alone."

"Eh... Terumi didn't want to overly impose," you say.

"Oh, no, it's fine, Nanashi-kun, that works for me!" Terumi says quickly. "I just, um, well it's fine! I don't want to get you in trouble, Driver-san!"

Well... alright then. More suspicious than before, but hey. You walk home with her, and she slides her hand into yours partway there, quietly talking to you about this and that and the other thing. She mostly talks about cooking, and seems to consider offering to cook you lunch before demurring and letting the subject drop like a rock.

At your home, you turn on a local classical song of Yangfang origin and get to dancing with Terumi, guiding her through the steps. Partway through, Fumiko passes by, pausing at the open doorway in her fencing garb and watching for a bit as you guide Terumi through the steps. Terumi is nervous as she tries to follow along, her bust occasionally pressing against your chest in a way that makes your cock harden, and you're fairly certain that it's unintentional. Fumiko watches for a while longer before leaving the two of you be, heading to her room to shower.

"And, right there," you tell Terumi, gently guiding her foot to the next step. "Slowly, we're going to do a spin. It's just like spinning in a circle, but try to keep your feet close together." Terumi nods, and you guide her through the motion. At the very end she trips over one of your feet and falls forward into you, and you have to hurriedly slide one leg back to keep the both of you from falling. You heft her up, putting her back on her feet, and try to ignore the fact that those plentiful tits were pushed into your chest a second ago.

"You're strong," Terumi says, softly, her lips beautiful in this light, as she stares up at you. She brushes her hair behind her ear, and for a moment you think she's about to kiss you. "And smart," she adds, leaning forward, and now you're sure she's about to kiss you. Then she pulls back, turning away. "And you have such a nice, wonderful house!"

"I suppose, yes, it is quite nice." You do feel a vague sense of disappointment she didn't actually kiss you.

After an hour of dancing, your mother comes by. "Oh, and who is this?" She asks, curiously.

"Ah, this is Terumi. She wanted to learn to dance," you say.

"So you invited her to our home, right after meeting her?" Your mother asks, eyebrow quirked. "You know, I thought you were smarter than that, but I suppose you are at that age..." she sighs, looking at Terumi. "I'm terribly sorry, I think I need to speak to my son alone. You seem like a sweet girl. Have Shiiro-san drive you home."

"A-ah, no, that's fine," Terumi says. "I'll walk. Thank you for the lesson, Nanashi-kun," she says, with a quick bow.

Terumi leaves, and your mother watches her go with a cold expression. She removes her glasses and rubs them, something you recognize from when Mariko annoys her enough that she has to really tamp it down. "Nan-chan," she says. She sighs. "For people like us, you can't just invite any girl over to your house, you understand?"

"She's very nice."

"And what if she had stolen something? Do you know anything about her? Not her hobbies or how big her tits are, but where she lives, who her family is, what sort of profession they work in?"

"Well... no," you admit.

"These are important questions. You have to think about them. Look at Mariko. How much has it benefited your father that he brought her into this house? Not a whit." Well, he gets his dick wet, but you get the point. "Why? Because -" she cuts herself off. "Look." She gingerly puts her hand on your cheek. "Your father and I, we got you into a class with a girl we think would be a very appropriate partner for you. She's from a good family, she has good grades, and she doesn't need to be taught how to dance."

She's selling her to you like she was a horse or something. "Are her teeth clean too?"

"Yes," she snaps. "And do not take that tone with me, I am looking out for you." She wraps you in a hug, pulling you close to her. You're about as tall as her, now, and she pulls your head down, onto her shoulder. "You are my precious, precious baby. I want you to be happy. And that means you have to be careful about women who are just looking for money. Look at Mariko. What does she provide the family? Another pair of mouths to feed. I'm not saying your father should throw her out, I know you like her, but it would have been much smarter for him to think about what she could have provided our family, if he was going to take another lover. You understand?" She pulls you out of the hug, looking you square in the eyes.

"I understand," you say. She stares you in the eyes.

"Good." She lets go of your shoulders. "I'm sorry. I'm just protective, and if a girl comes to your house the very first day you meet, it suggests something. Even if I were poor and the man were rich, I certainly wouldn't just go over to his house the first day. She should know that, too, the fact that she came over like that suggests she, well, frankly, I don't want to think about what sort of things are going through a girl's head when she comes to a man's house the day they meet. Nothing good, though, I can tell you that."

"Oh, but, I do know a little bit about her," you say, as you recall your conversation. "She's the daughter of my old teacher at Kasahiro."

Kimiko closes her eyes for a long few seconds. She breathes out. "Okay." That's all she says.

"Can't I even have friends without giving them a background check?"

"She came over to our house. That is not what girls do with their new male acquaintances, okay? Trust me on this, it's a woman thing." You just nod - she's obviously not explaining, or willing to argue.

"Do you have any classmates you would approve of, then?"

"If the others ask to come over to your house the first day you talk to them, then no." She sighs. "But yes, the girl I was mentioning is of an appropriately high caliber. Her name is Yuriko, she's a platinum blonde with short hair. I don't know the rest of your class, and I'm not saying you have to get in a relationship with her, but talk to her, see if she's the kind of girl you like. That's how your father and I met, and our marriage is going on nineteen years now, and things are only getting better."

"Sure," you agree. "I sit beside her, so I probably would have been speaking to her anyway."

"Alright. Good. Great." She rubs her eye. "Okay. I love you, sweetie, I know you think I'm being callous, but I'm just looking out for you." She kisses your cheek. "I'm going to go do some work that I need to finish up." She leaves you there, and you take a moment before deciding to go talk to Fumiko.

She's in her room, lounging on the bed half-naked, bare midriff shirt and short running shorts, showing off a lanky, athletic body, her hair splayed around her on her pillow. Her glasses are perched on the end of her nose as she texts somebody on her phone. She flicks her gaze up to you as you stand in the doorway. "What's up, Nan-chan?"

"Mom got angry at me for inviting a girl over. Look. I don't get it. She acted like a girl coming over to my house the same day I met her was totally crazy."

Fumiko blinks. "Wait, you hadn't known that purple haired chick before inviting her over? I figured you knew her from Kasahiro, pretty sure I saw her watching you a couple times when Shiiro picked you up."

"No, I hadn't known her," you say, frowning slightly.

"Well. Yeah. You definitely shouldn't go over to a guy's house right after meeting him."

"Why not?"

She looks at you, squinting briefly, pushing her glasses up. "What'd they teach you in sex ed again? Don't rape, only fuck a girl you love?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"And nothing else?" You nod. She pauses, pushing her lips to one side. "Basically, it's so you don't get thrown in a dude's rape dungeon," she explains, before lying back down and refocusing on the phone. "Going to a guy's house before you know you can trust him is like closing your eyes while driving. It's just insanely stupid. Dunno why that chick would come over here. Maybe she figured 'cause we're rich, you wouldn't do that kinda thing? But it seems like it'd be a lot easier to pull it off if you've got money." She frowns even more, looking up at you. "She, uhh, talk to anybody before heading off with you? Tell somebody where she was going?"

"...no," you admit.

"Yikes. I'd stay away from her if I were you."

"Because she's not afraid I have a rape dungeon? Is that really that common?"

She looks up at you. "I mean. Yeah. Kinda. They probably exaggerated the numbers a little in sex ed? But it's scare you straight stuff, you know? Don't smoke a single cigarette or your lungs will turn black and cancer will crawl out of your throat. Don't go to a guy's house unaccompanied even once or you'll get thrown in a rape dungeon."

"For real? I have never heard of guys having rape dungeons. They definitely didn't talk about that in sex ed."

"Probably because they don't want to give guys any ideas," Fumiko says by way of explanation. She pauses for a moment before continuing. "Okay, yeah, they don't call it a rape dungeon in sex ed class but that's what we all called it afterwards. There's this really antiseptic term I can't remember. Uh..." she rubs her eye. "Oh, well, I probably shouldn't tell you it, don't want you to go online and search for it."

There is about zero percent chance you're not going to go online and search for it, but you nod. "Okay. I think I get it. So... if she did something like that, it implies...?"

"I dunno dude. Suicidal? Stupid? Desperate? What would it imply if you gave somebody a loaded gun and let them point it at your head? In any case, not a great idea to get yourself attached to a girl like that."

"Thanks," you say, uncertainly. "That was very helpful. I get where our mother was coming from much more now."

You immediately go to your computer and use the local equivalent of Google, called Kyodai. Well, no, not immediately. You first find a proxy service and THEN go to Kyodai, typing in the words 'rape dungeon science.'

The link you finally hit on isn't exactly the local equivalent of the Mayo Clinic. It's some kind of anti-violence group, like a DV protection website.

What is sexually coercive confinement?

Sexually coercive confinement is one or more individuals physically isolating a woman and preventing her from leaving. Typically, such women are threatened with physical violence, or bound and prevented from escaping. In more rare cases, drugs are used as the sole mechanism of control, to prevent the woman from hurting herself or her captors

FACT: More than 0.3% of the female population have been placed in sexually coercive confinement, and more than 0.9% have suffered attempted confinement [1]. These disproportionately come from those close to the victim [2], are disproportionately performed by those of means [2], and disproportionately done to those who are poor and vulnerable [2]

FACT: Only 11% of cases of sexually coercive confinement which come to the attention of the police are ever successfully prosecuted [3].

FACT: An estimated 0.2% of the male population have ever attempted to place a woman in sexually coercive conduct [3].

Does sexually coercive confinement happen to men?

While it is possible for a man to be the victim of sexually coercive confinement, it is much, much rarer, due to differences between male and female psychology. In 2007, there were 391 distinct acts of sexually coercive confinement which were tried, prosecuted, and convicted within Kurogaya. Of these, 390 were of women. While sexually coercive confinement is abhorrent no matter who it happens to, it is largely exclusive to women.

Okay. These numbers suggest a pretty nasty epidemic of rape dungeons, but that doesn't really explain it. It feels... off. That mention of differences between male and female psychology seems indicative. 'Sexually coercive confinement psychological sequelae' finally hits you the jackpot.

As previous studies have shown, repeated sexual intimacy with a single man causes certain neurochemicals to be released, and the sensation of being with that man becomes chemically addictive. Further, this effect can be delayed or counteracted altogether by avoiding sexual intimacy, or focusing intimacy on a group of men, and being sure not to spend too much time with any single male in sequence.

For these reasons, sexually coercive confinement has some evolutionary adaptation, with its use in acquiring and maintaining control over a mate. While women who have been victims of SCC are capable of turning on their captors, such cases are rare, and most often they will lie or assist their captor in avoiding prosecution. For example, of the 463 cases in which a successful conviction was brought forward for SCC in Kurogaya in 2005, only 26% involved testimony from the victims, compared to 44% which involved opposing testimony from the victim. When one takes into account that the 3,294 cases which were brought forward but dismissed likely included at least some genuine victims, the numbers become even more dismal.

A rational, logical method of attempting to reduce SCC rates cannot rely on the victims, because they cannot speak for themselves. This is part of what makes SCC such a horrific crime, that it so debilitates those subjected to it that they lose the capacity even to stand up against it. It is the duty of every modern nation to attempt to eliminate SCC, just as we would attempt to eliminate ordinary rape, domestic violence, or theft. Though the task may be gargantuan, the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. We will cover successful preventative and retributive measures within the remainder of this study, in the hopes of finding ways that Kurogaya can reduce this crime.

That's really the money shot, there. You kept feeling like there was something you were missing, and now you know what it was. You close the tab and wipe the pages from the browser's history, not wanting to get caught, given how extreme people seem to be about this.

Hm. Given that Terumi was willing to risk something like this, and that Fumiko and your mother made it pretty clear that it's normal for a woman to be afraid of that kind of thing... and that she didn't want you to know where she lives... it's very possible that she has a really awful home life. While even given those numbers you probably wouldn't have tried to throw her in a rape dungeon, it certainly does seem like the kind of concern one should reasonably have before going over to someone's house.

Well... since you're at the computer already... you have some other questions, regarding your parents' relationship, and if human sexuality is different like this, it probably also differs in other ways. Is the way your dad, your mother, and Mariko live unusual?

You don't know the word for 'polygamy,' but you have heard a word that pretty clearly meant 'harem' at one point, so you search for that. You manage to scrape through a number of different websites before stumbling on what you were looking for. It's a blog by a woman who is apparently a sociologist, and lives in a relationship with her husband and two other women, and she discusses her lifestyle choices.

The biggest concern for me was the sex. Once you're with a man, you feel that need for it, to the point that you can feel unfulfilled when you don't get it any more. But my husband was always a really high libido guy, so I gave it a shot for his sake, and wow! He was even more intense with me. Before, we'd have sex once a day, maybe sometimes twice. Once R. came into our lives, it was more like four or five, often fucking both of us in turn until we were so sexually exhausted we passed out. Hell, that was why I asked him to bring D. in, I was so tired from all the sex! I know, it's ridiculous, right? A woman, complaining about too much sex? I don't know, though, once R. was in it was like he flipped a damn switch.

But the sex was just one thing, and we got lucky elsewhere. With a lot of relationships like this, you're trying to balance two women's needs and personalities, and it can be a huge issue. I definitely did not think much about that before we brought R. in, so I'm glad that my husband and I were very comfortable with one another, and that I was already friends with R. Still, I hadn't even considered it, totally could have been a horrible eternal drama thing. D. was also a mutual friend, I picked her out because she was coming out of a bad breakup and my man is the best at cuddling.

Of course, you don't read this blog just for relationship drama. So let's talk about Normalized Monogamy.

It used to be that a lot of guys had two or more wives, typically with one being more official than the others (for inheritance). Anagogism helped establish a norm of sexual monogamy in Nantonne, and it is, frankly, the more efficient general social mode. Even if I love my husband, and R., and D., I can't lie and tell you it's an awesome idea for every girl to run around with her boyfriend and his two other girlfriends. The math just doesn't work out, and a society where a bunch of people are left out in the cold is just not as stable.

Especially with the modern era, with all its long work days and tiresome, tedious labor, it's hard for a man to find the energy to sexually satisfy just his wife sometimes, much less three or four! While I said the sex just got more plentiful after we brought R. in, and I can tell you I'm having at least twice as much sex as I used to, for most guys it doesn't work out like that.

Today, polygamy is formally illegal in Yangfang, Kurogaya, Wesmere, every country in the Nantonne Principalities, the DFRM, Khohet, 3 countries in al-Qujafa, and 4 countries in Rodwa. While you can still fuck two girls at the same time, you can only be formally married to one of them. In Nantonne and Wesmere, they get pretty antsy if you present two women as your wives (they are majority Anagogic countries, after all), and you CAN go to jail in a lot of places for it, but otherwise, you can put a ring on two ladies, just don't expect the law to recognize it.

Hmm. So it seems like your dad's relationship with Kimiko and Mariko is fairly normal. In fact, you scroll through a number of discussions of polygyny and not a single one mentions the word 'jealousy.' It seems like Kimiko and Mariko's poor relationship is... just down to them. Even if they're not jealous about the time that your father spends with them, that doesn't mean they like each other. You suppose that does make sense.

You take out a piece of paper, tune into Kyodai, and get to writing down your questions and the resulting answers. In English, just in case.

Notes

How is incest viewed?

Poorly, but not as poorly as your world. You can probably get away with it if you keep it a secret.

Incest kids?

As long as it's one generation, it's basically fine. It's only multiple generations where you run into problems.

STDs?

There are a couple but they're rare and not very serious. No incurable ones, and no endemic ones. The weird monogamous nymphomania means there aren't a lot of breeding grounds for them.

Impregnation?

Childbirth is very low risk. Impregnation works the same as your world, come inside. It's a lot higher risk though, but there are contraceptives. Mostly for girls. Condoms apparently don't exist, but there is a male birth control pill that's recently been developed and been around for about twenty years.

Anything extra about sex?

Hymen is a thin film that doesn't completely cover the vaginal tract. Semen and girlcum taste really good, apparently. Unless everybody is lying, sex is insanely enjoyable for women, like, "orgasm from your first time sucking dick when his balls first hit your chin" level enjoyable. Otherwise it's mostly the same shit. Well, and the bonding thing.

Can the bonding effect be prevented?

It's apparently a complex interaction between scent, texture, sound, sight, and awareness. The girl has to be awake, and she has to know she's getting fucked by a guy, but her brain handles the rest of the story to bond to him. It doesn't apply for lesbian sex, or for male homosexual sex either. It works faster if she comes a bunch, but it takes multiple days of sex for it to have any hope of taking effect.

Sex at your age?

People think you probably shouldn't, but they won't beat you up or anything. Lots of people have chaste, kiss-only relationships.

Anagogism? Religion?

There are three major world religions, with some preexisting pagan beliefs. Paganism's spread out, and never fully wiped out anywhere, unlike in your own world where it was basically killed in a lot of areas.

Keikyo is this sort of philosophical Buddhism type thing, that you're not super clear on but involves some zen crap about letting go and accepting death and such. It's predominant in Yangfang, Rodwa, and Kurogaya. It has a lot of weird mystical elements that don't seem to get much play any more and just get quietly glossed over.

Anagogism is the worship of Deus, the god of the spiritual, in opposition to the Demiurge, the rebellious god of the physical. Deus incarnated himself as a man in Nantonne, got killed, and then resurrected himself as a representation of Deus's power above and beyond the mortal. It's a really weird version of Gnostic and Catholic Christianity, basically.

Dawiya is the worship of the Sun, referred to by whatever the local word for Sun is. It has two main forms, one practiced in Khohet, the other practiced in the rest of al-Qujafa. In Khohet, they think the Sun is the direct ancestor of their imperial royal line which stretches back into the mists of history. In the rest of al-Qujafa, he's more like a distant, stern God of the material. Dawiyites and Anagogists hate one another, since Anagogists basically think that the Dawiyan God is Satan.

Human biology differences?

Besides women being warmer than men, and them having denser muscles, and the whole bonding to whoever fucks you thing...

1. Women run hotter than men, so they tend to wear skimpier clothes, even in uniforms. The thigh, navel, and collarbone/upper chest are particularly good areas to reveal to help burn off excess heat.

2. Babies can sleep through the night without starving to death.

3. Menstruation is painless, doesn't cause cramps, and basically goes completely unremarked upon.

4. The anus is self cleaning. This is kinda a sex thing, you guess, but yeah. There's no poop in there if you put your finger up. Technically you guess you figured this out a long time ago when you first went to the bathroom on your own and there was no toilet paper, but this is confirmation of why.

5. Women basically fall into three categories: chaste, sluts, and monogamous nymphos. Chaste girls don't have sex at all, sluts have sex on their own time with a sort of harem of guys, and monogamous nymphos have sex with one guy. Sluttiness is risky, but not horribly so, it's sort of viewed as a behavior like geting a tattoo, not super stupid, but most people don't do it for pretty good reasons.

Treating victims of SCC?

1. Get them away from the guy. Can take years before they full wean off.

2. Get the guy to earnestly tell them to fuck off (coercion doesn't really work, provokes a "my baby" response).

3. Fuck them yourself. Not really a solution that's broadly practiced, though, governments tend to think it creates perverse incentives among cops for some reason.

You delete your browsing history, fold up the piece of paper, and close down the computer before heading out of the room.

"Nana-kun!" Comes the cry of Momo, glomping onto you and sending you reeling for a moment before you recover. "Minori-san is being mean again!" She complains.

"I was not being mean," Minori says, coming around the corner. "You got in a fight with my boyfriend! It's totally reasonable to complain!"

"Your 'boyfriend' called me a dumb brute."

"Well, you sure showed him," Minori says, with a contemptuous roll of her eyes.

Somehow you channel a much younger (or older) man and give an exactly correct, pitch perfect, rendition of a very simple question. "Boyfriend?! Who's this boyfriend, and why haven't I heard about him before?"

"Because he's a big dumb dumb!" Momo explains, crossing her arms. "Also because he's barely her boyfriend, they ate lunch together one time."

"He is so my boyfriend!" Minori fumes. "We're gonna kiss, and then get married, and YOU won't be invited because you started a fight with him!"

"And what exactly did she do to start this fight?" You ask.

"Well, see," Momo starts, then stops. "Uh." She coughs. "Well. I was talking to him. And. He said I was dumb. And I said I was gonna punch him. So he did this," she mimes pushing a pair of glasses up her nose, "and said, 'I guess that makes you a dumb brute!' And he laughed, like, fufufufu," she explains.

"And Minori, why didn't you do anything to stop your 'boyfriend' from calling Momo names?"

"Uhh, cause, she was acting dumb? And brutish? Duh?" She puts on a fake stupid expression. "Ugh! Just stay away from him, Momo!" She wags her finger at your half-sister.

You take a moment to close your eyes and recall when the two of them got on. Oh, how young and sweet they were. Alas, like sands in the hourglass, so too have such days gone.

With lightning speed, you snap out one hand and grab Minori by the upper arm, repeating the process on Momo, dragging the two of them towards your chest. At which point, you give both of them noogies. "No calling Momo dumb, Minori," you say, "and no punching people, Momo."

The two briefly try to dispute your word, but you keep them pinned. You're pretty strong, and they're pretty small. "What do you say?!"

"Sorry, Nana-kun!" Momo says. "I won't punch any more people!" You let go of Momo, who ruffles her hair a bit as if to get your cooties out.

"And Minori?" The dainty, princess-like vibe she gives off at other times is totally ruined as her hair flails around her while she desperately struggles to escape. You noogie her to establish dominance. "What do you say?"

"Ugh!" Minori cries. "Sorry! Momo's not that dumb!" You noogie her some more. "Or at all!"

You let her go, flicking your arms. "Now, we're all family here, so please, be good to one another," you tell them both.

They just run off. You wipe at one eye, feeling exhausted from your long day, and finally lie down to go to sleep.