It was a week of hell. Makoto lived on cheap coffee and rice balls from the convenience store, a ghost haunting his own life.
Every waking moment was spent scraping together the last of the money. He was a husk of a man, driven by a singular, shameful purpose.
Finally, the day came. He snuck into Yuna's room while she was out, the five crisp 10,000 yen notes feeling like the final payment for his soul.
He placed the notes on her desk, his heart pounding, and typed out a message with the attachment photo.
Makoto: Here's the rest. When can we…?
The reply was instant.
Yuna: FINALLY! Klee has been waiting sooooo long for onii-chan~
Yuna: The costume arrived yesterday... wanna see?
The message came with a photo that made his blood run cold. It was the Klee costume, laid out on her bed. Disturbingly accurate, complete with the tiny red dress, the hat, and that cursed Dodoco backpack.
Yuna: Tomorrow? Same love hotel? I promise...
A new message popped up, a single, chilling line.
Yuna: ...little Klee will make it go BOOM~
Makoto's hands trembled as he typed his reply, a grim sense of doom settling over him.
Makoto: Fine. We leave at 5. Tell Mom it's another movie night.
He turned to leave her room, trying to act casual. He opened the toilet door and entered, prepared for a jerk off.
It was right when her voice, sickeningly sweet and chillingly accurate, called out from behind him.
"Onii-chan~"
He froze, his hand on his pants. He hadn't realized he had forgotten to lock the door.
"Your pants are getting bigger!" she chirped in that perfect Klee voice. "Is that because you're excited to play with little Klee?"
He could feel the blush creeping up his neck, a hot tide of shame. He didn't dare to turn around.
She giggled, a wild sound that echoed in the quiet toilet. "Don't worry, I won't tell mommy that her son gets hard thinking about his little stepsister in kiddie clothes."
Just as he was about to escape, she added one last, devastating blow.
"Oh! And bring candy tomorrow! Klee loves sweets..."
Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "...almost as much as she loves big brother's special lollipop."
The next day, leaving the house was psychological warfare. Their mother was getting ready for a rare night out with friends, and Yuna saw her chance.
She gave their mom a hug, her expression a mask of pure, daughterly innocence. "We're going to see that new animated movie! The one with the cute little girl who likes explosives!"
She winked at Makoto over their mother's shoulder, a silent, diabolical threat. "Makoto promised to buy me lots of candy."
"That's nice, dear," their mother said, smiling. "Have fun, you two. Don't get into any trouble."
"We won't," Yuna promised, her grin turning feral the moment their mother's back was turned.
Their walk to the love hotel felt like a death march.
The room was exactly as he remembered it. The same tacky sanctuary for sins just like theirs.
Heart-shaped bed, mirrored ceiling, the faint smell of air freshener that couldn't quite mask years of illicit encounters. It was their stage.
"Well," Makoto sighed, the sound heavy with resignation and a thrill he refused to acknowledge.
He leaned back on the bed. "Time to get my money's worth, I guess."
Yuna skipped into the room, her earlier tension gone, replaced by the focused energy of a performer.
She dropped the Dodoco backpack with a thud. "Boom boom bakudan!" she squealed, her voice shifting into the high-pitched, sickeningly sweet tone of Klee.
"Give me a moment to transform, big bro!" She brought her costume inside her backpack into the restroom, and came back after ten minutes.
The transformation was instantaneous and deeply unsettling.
She crawled onto the bed, the tiny red dress of the costume, which she'd worn underneath her clothes, barely covering her ass.
White stockings, held up by garters he hadn't noticed before, hugged her thighs. She was a perfect, disturbing replica.
"Did onii-chan bring Klee candy?" she asked in that cloying, childlike tone, pouting up at him with wide, fake-innocent eyes.
Her small hands landed on his belt, her fingers working the buckle open with a practiced ease that was totally wrong for the character she was playing.
"Or does onii-chan want Klee to... inspect his candy first?" Her breath was hot against his cock as she leaned in, licking her lips.
The fantasy, as perverse and disturbing as it was, was a potent shield. Makoto leaned into it, a smirk playing on his lips.
"I have a delicious lollipop for you right here, Klee," he said, his voice a low growl. "Try it. See if you like the taste."
"Yay! Klee loves lollipops!" she squealed in that high-pitched voice, clapping her hands.
The tiny red dress strained against her breasts as she leaned forward, her tongue darting out to lick a long, exploratory stripe up his shaft.
The touch was electric, a jolt of pure, unadulterated sin.
She looked up at him with exaggerated innocence, her lips forming a perfect 'O' as she took the head into her mouth.
"Mmmph! Onii-chan's candy is… so big, and delicious," she mumbled around his cock, her words garbled but still in perfect Klee character.
Her small hands gripped his thighs as she bobbed her head, the bells on her hat jingling with each rhythmic movement.
The sound was maddening, a cheerful, innocent counterpoint to the obscene act she was performing with a skill that was anything but.
Every so often, she would pull back with a wet, obscene pop, grinning up at him. "Klee wants to make it go boom boom," she whispered, before diving back down, taking him deeper this time.
"Good girl, good girl," Makoto found himself murmuring, his hand coming up to pat her head. The red hat, complete with its little clover, was soft under his touch. The bells jingled.
"Keep going and it will go boom boom… shooting special milk all for you, Klee."