"Should we go on a walk?"
I asked Kotoha after dinner, the taste of hamburg steak still lingering on my tongue.
"Sure!" she answered quickly, her eyes shining.
We stepped out into the quiet neighborhood. The lamps glowed softly, washing the street in pale light, shadows stretching long across the ground. The night air was cool, carrying the faint scent of blooming flowers.
Kotoha moved close to me, just like she had that morning. Her cheeks faintly flushed, though she wasn't quite blushing—more like the warmth of being near me had soaked into her skin. I slid my hand onto her lower back, pressing her gently closer. She didn't resist, only tilted her head slightly, as if leaning into me.
At first, we walked in silence. A few short conversations sparked, then faded quickly. It wasn't awkward. Just… quiet.
"Let's go to the playground we used to play at," I suggested.
"We haven't been there in a while."
Her lips curved into a smile. "We used to play there all the time."
The old playground came into view, bathed in the faint glow of a single streetlamp. For her, it was a special place.
I remembered clearly. The day the kids found out she didn't have a father. They mocked her, circled her, while she cried in the corner. I fought them, fists swinging, my body bruised and bloodied by the end. But she never forgot.
In my last life, Kotoha told me that moment was when I became her light.
Afterward, Hikari treated my wounds. That was when she began looking at me differently, when our families started trading dinners back and forth. Back then, my parents were still alive. My father was kind, strong, dignified without being harsh—was almost like a father figure to Kotoha too.
He was a man I once wanted to be. But now that I've returned to this time, what I want most is to bend Kotoha over and fuck her ass until she screams.
We sat on the bench together. The metal was cool against my legs.
"I remember you used to be really good at the monkey bars?" she said, voice nostalgic.
"Was I?"
"Remember when you fell down one day, showing me how to do it, and you kept insisting it didn't hurt?"
"I remember. I was trying hard not to cry because I thought you'd cry too."
"Why would I cry?"
"I just thought you would!"
I chuckled, my hand sliding naturally onto her thigh. She didn't flinch. At this point, she had grown used to my touch, her submissive nature carrying her through.
"You must be sore from running."
"Uh-huh."
"Does it feel good?"
"I-it does."
Her thighs were soft under my fingers. I kneaded them slowly, moving higher, closer to her panties, then back down to her knees before sliding up again. Each time I brushed close, her body shivered, her breath catching.
"Are you doing anything this weekend?" I asked casually, my hand tracing the curve of her inner thigh.
"No. Nothing. Maybe study."
"Then we should go somewhere together."
I timed the question perfectly, my fingers brushing the outline of her panties. Damp. Sticky. She was already wet for me. Kotoha was a lewd girl, through and through. Once she was aroused, her mind melted into haze.
"Hiih~?" Her voice pitched high, needy.
"You don't want to?"
"No, I'd love to! I-I mean… I'm free, so I don't mind going with Satou-kun."
"Then wear something cute on Saturday, alright?"
"…Okay…"
I pulled my hand back at last, smearing her arousal in a wet line down her thigh, claiming her without words.
Standing, I offered her my hand.
"Shall we head back?"
She placed her hand into mine, quiet, her ears burning red. She was embarrassed about something—but what she was embarrassed about, I don't know. Women are mysterious.
We walked back holding hands, as natural as breathing. Her fingers were warm in mine, pliant, clinging faintly when I squeezed. Kotoha was submissive to her core. To someone who loved her, she was born to be a slave.
I stopped in front of her house.
"See you tomorrow, Kotoha-chan. Thank you."
"Thank you too, Satou-kun. See you."
"I had a lot of fun today."
"…I had fun too…" she whispered, her voice small.
Her shy smile glowed faintly in the lamplight.
Kotoha was so unbearably cute. Next time, would she bring my hand to her thigh on her own?
When I got home, I dropped my bag by the door and went straight into training.
Push ups until my arms trembled. Pull ups until my shoulders burned. Squats until my legs shook. Sit ups until my stomach clenched hard enough to cramp. No weights, no equipment, just my own body. A basic workout, but it kept my muscles alive until I had access to a gym.
Once I got my car, I'd join one. I could go by train now, sure, but I hated being pressed into a car full of strangers. Sweat, chatter, perfume, all mixed together. It suffocated me. Sometimes I made life harder for myself by avoiding convenience, but I preferred control over comfort.
The days slipped by quickly.
Mornings were always the same: walking to school with Kotoha. She grew bolder each day, brushing against me, glancing up nervously, waiting for my touches. I rewarded her little steps with my hand at her waist, on her thighs.
Afternoons were for running and Hikari. I kept to my routine, circling the neighborhood until my lungs burned before showing up at her door. She welcomed me inside every time, letting me hover beside her in the kitchen, shoulder to shoulder while we cooked together.
I wanted more. Just cooking wouldn't close the gap. But with the swimming day coming up, I wasn't worried. Hikari needed time. She was like wine. Best savored slowly until the taste turned addictive.
At night, I pushed myself harder. Sets of push ups in the dark, sweat dripping onto the floor. I'd wipe it away and move on to sit ups, pull ups, squats. Every drop of sweat, every burn in my muscles, was fuel. A body that couldn't keep up with three women wasn't worthy of them.