Agrippa
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All Right! Fine! I Will Take You! – Chapter 57
🕑 Added 2022-11-04 20:06:09 +0000 UTCIn one of our previous lectures on the history of anime tropes and conventions with Hachiman-sensei, we talked about the planning scene and how its most prominent and staunch defender is a certain franchise with a penchant for pissing off any major religions to have ever existed. But is that hatred really justified? Really, can anybody be offended by somebody, particularly a foreign non-believer, profusely displaying worship and deep love for their deities? Who among the faithful would turn away someone for that, for going above the passion of the average, tepid follower of their creed? Who could ever be anything but flattered by someone plastering their room with posters of Jeanne d’Arc in varied poses, attires, and lack thereof to which they offer their trice-daily devotion with plenty of hand lotion?
Truly, I say no one could ever find fault with this argument, for what can be purer than the love a man feels for his waifu, and what sincere act of worship is predicated upon something other than love?
But I digress. I know, I know, it’s hard to believe, but I sometimes, despite the razor-sharp focus of my diaphanous mind, can become engrossed in a tangent that, while always pertinent, may not be entirely on point.
Yes, yes, that’s inconceivable, but let’s move on from this mildly embarrassing instance of such a rare occurrence and go back to the main topic: planning scenes.
As has been already established, they are predicated on a few simple concepts: showing character interactions that cement their dynamics on the viewer’s mind, properly explaining the different esoteric concepts that could become plot-relevant in the next battle, and setting up expectations to be shattered.
Though, usually, it takes slightly more time than five fucking minutes for the subversion to occur.
“You had to open your mouth,” Haruno, sitting by my side yet no longer draping her pants-tightening body all over me, mutters as her cheeks darken yet another shade in her steady transformation toward the kind of red oni that, while still addicted to alcohol, will gladly partake of other fluids, my consent on the issue being of dubious pertinence at best.
“You can’t blame me for… this,” I say, pointing to the phone lying on my lap.
The one playing a video.
That Iroha just sent us.
It’s… quite a poor video, according to her own standards. The lighting is shit, and the camera keeps shaking and getting quite… vitalthings off frame.
“Shizu, are you asking me if I believe you would put on an elaborate show of kindness and caring just to make me defenselessly open while all the way you wore sexy underwear meant just for me to stare at as you ravished my body and took another of my firsts? Are you asking me if I would be an innocent prey for you to slake your lusts on? Are you telling me that I’m too trusting, that I should be wary of lowering my guard with you? I’m sorry, Shizu, but that’s impossible! After all—” the Iroha in the phone assaults us with before I manage to pause the damn thing.
I… I am crouching over, and not just to grab the thing between my—over my legs. I am gasping loudly, and so is Haruno by my side, the heat of her body acutely apparent as I keep noticing her slender arms, her round thighs, her…
Damn it.
“It’s… It’s always the worst part, you know?” I tell her without looking at her, my voice rough and maybe, somewhat, a tad deep. “Right when she finishes, when she gives that little twist to her speech and hits you right through where your walls should have been.”
“I… know,” Haruno says, her breathed-out reply half a whisper and half something else entirely.
“I had to stop it. Had to. Otherwise, I may have…”
I don’t know what I may have.
Because when I turn back to look at Haruno, she’s looking back at me, and her eyes are lidded as she leans against the backrest of the sofa hard enough that the shadowed indent of her body highlights all of her beauty. Her right hand’s behind her nape, showing me the profile of her round breast sitting slightly higher than usual, and her left arm is down, yes, her hand resting halfway up her thigh, but that means her elbow is almost touching me, and there’s something both pulling and pushing in that short space between our bodies, something that makes it so I can’t stop turning until I fully face her.
“I… I should go,” I tell her, my voice dropping further as I’m overwhelmed with a barrage of mental images that involve not only me staying but going deeper, taking her legs, spreading them as her skirt rises—
“Yes. Yes. You should. Go,” she says, eyes shining in… something.
Something I may have started to learn.
“It wouldn’t be right. Not in Yukino’s place,” I say, maybemoving slightly toward her as her eyes seem to grow that much bigger despite the tiny twin dots of black drowning in seemingly eternal lavender fields.
“It’s… It’s also my place, you know? I… we live together, now,” she says, hesitating, her lower lip quivering, the hand on her lap twitching toward me.
I swallow.
Hard.
And I lean forward, over her, my chest almostbrushing hers as I thrust a hand over her left shoulder and the other brushes back her hair as Haruno’s paralyzed, staring up at me with something close to hunger but also fear.
“I could take you,” I growl. “I could bend you over the armrest, grab your hips and shove my cock as deep inside of you as you knowI can reach. I could fill your mind with nothing but sex, and our bodies, and the ecstasy that comes from us and only us, the kind of pleasure that’s uniquely ours. I could make it so every time you sit here to contemplate how hard it is to find someone who truly understands you, you would flick your gaze to the one place where you were taken thoroughly and undeniably. I could take away those moments of delightful, lonely melancholy and overwrite them with tingling yearning between your thighs, Haruno,” I say before I lean forward to lay an ardent, passionate kiss…
On her forehead.
I shudder as I force myself to lean back and stare into swimming eyes as our ragged gasps mingle.
“But I won’t. Not until we’ve talked with Yukino about her boundaries,” I manage to finish my speech without physically assaulting her.
What I can’t actually accomplish, though, is to tear myself away from her.
“You sure…” she starts to say before she pauses to wet her lower lip. “You sure have an… opinion of yourself.”
“I… do,” I say, my fingers burning between her hair.
“It’s…” her eyes go between mine and my lips. And mine do the same as I keep getting distracted by light glimmering off reddish skin offset by thin lines of a deeper color. As I keep getting drawn in by the slight separation between them.
“Out,” she says. “Out before I make you lose control.”
“You sure have an opinion of your—”
“Oh, I do. But it’s not an opinion because I just knowI can make you do all those things you just cruelly tempted me with, and I could force you to go further. We would christen this whole home, Hachiman, and there wouldn’t be a single corner of it you could look to without a phantom of my pleading moans tickling your ears, without an echo of my smirk melting into shameless pleasure shooting straight through you. I’d make it so each and every time you tried to hold a conversation with Yukino, your cock would throb because of me.”
We stare at one another in defiant, tense silence.
“So, I should go,” I say, eyes narrow, briefly licking my lips.
“You really, really should,” she answers before biting the corner of hers.
And I push myself away before I slump on the farthest corner of the L-shaped sofa I can reach right as my muscles give up on me.
On her own, far-off corner, Haruno pants.
“Damn you,” she mutters, staring up at the ceiling much as I do when I realize that’s an option.
“You just had to tell me this was also your place,” I retort, trying to get my breathing under control.
“I… I couldn’t resist, you damn martyr,” she says in a way that almost distracts me from my solemn contemplation of the subtle nuances between unfamiliar ceilings that would make any cellist proud.
“Right. You couldn’t resist, so I had to,” I say.
There’s a brief, uncharacteristic silence before the rustling that signals a profoundly erotic woman moving out of her resting place.
A few hesitating moments of paralyzing arousal later, Haruno’s face inconsiderately interrupts my contemplation of her ceiling.
She’s cupping my cheeks between warm, soft hands that could utterly destroy me without any martial arts involved.
“Yes. Yes, you had to. Because you’re my boyfriend,” she says.
And then, intensely, lovingly, tenderly, she kisses me.
On my forehead.
***
It takes me a moment to calm myself down despite the night’s cool air, but the rest of the walk from Yukino’s—now also Haruno’s, apparently—place to mine manages to bring my self-control back.
Partially.
‘Stop thinking about that video.’
Stop asking for the impossible.
‘Stop making every single little thing impossible.’
OK, look, I promise to give that damn Korean web novel a rest for a week and see if my burning hatred of it abates just enough for me to stop reading out of spite, but that’s as far as I can compromise.
‘You do realize that, between the usual shenanigans of your club and trying to keep up with your new exercise routine and three girlfriends, reading web novels out of spite is not something remotely feasible?’
On the other hand, I’m saving a lot of time on masturbation.
‘Not really, when you take into account Iroha’s little “reminders” of her affection.’
… Fine. I’ll only read things I legitimately enjoy until I finish the semester. Are you happy now?
‘Would you look at that, a resolution that perfectly aligns with your interests, tastes, and personal happiness, and it only took some agonizing self-reflection to get to it. Progress.’
I’m so getting you stoned out of my mind as soon as we get into college…
‘Threaten me with a good time, why don’t you…’
With the weary sigh of those who are too used to dealing with unreasonable voices in their head, I open the door to my home and walk in to find a darkened hallway. I hang my coat in the aptly-named coat hanger and walk up the stairs with heavy steps. Without turning the light on, because I rather enjoy the mildly horrifying, haunted ambiance
When I reach the landing, Komachi’s door opens with an ominous creak that I wouldn’t have appreciated half as much had I turned on the lamp, once again vindicating my peerless foresight like the equally peerless little sister that she is.
“What is it?” she asks in the gruff tone of those who are already tired of your bullshit yet legally required to put up with it.
Ah, family. How heartwarming.
“Hello?” I say with a confused tone.
“Right, hello. Now, what is it?”
“I… don’t know?” I tell her.
And she narrows her eyes, grabs my tie, and drags me to my room, which she proceeds to enter before all but throwing me to my bed and closing the door behind her.
I… may need an adult?
‘I… am not an adult.’
“Let me rephrase, oh grossther of mine: What is it this time around that has you walking up the stairs in precisely the same way you always do before dropping by and deciding to try and bomb to ashes whatever remains of my bright, healthy outlook on a world that’s not filled with mini-yous spawned out of a myriad of unsuspecting women,” she clarifies, arms crossed, eyes accusing, and tapping fingers over her left elbow admirably displaying a degree of impatience rarely found outside of hand-shaking events with women who are legally contracted not to spit on your face.
Unless you pay a hefty extra, that is.
“Ah. That,” I say, nodding intelligently as I adjust my sitting posture to nonchalantly slouch on top of a mattress that is, once again, not as soft as hers.
“Yes, that,” she says without further clarification because, at this point, what else can be said.
We stare at one another for a moment, our wills clashing as fiercely as those of two rivals about to cook a dish filled with psychoactive substances.
And I sigh.
“Hug?” I ask with a shrug of my shoulders.
And suddenly, Komachi’s sitting by my side, her face buried in my shoulder, her arms wrapped around my neck in what is most definitely affection, even if it still holds a hint of warning.
“I’m only touching you now because your gross sex things will make it so I won’t want to touch you later,” she whispers.
“I know. Thank you,” I say, gently patting her small back.
She always was the athletic one between the two of us, but… She’s a girl. Younger than I am.
It… It took me embarrassingly long to notice what all that could mean, and it’s only now that I’m beginning to be stronger, in more ways than one, that I have the urge not only to care for her and defend her, but… but to guard her. To stand between her and the world.
She’s never needed me to before. She likely doesn’t now.
And it’s selfish, and stupid, and likely patronizing.
But I still want to.
“It’s…” I finally say, my mind whirring with far too many things to lay on her, to unburden myself of. “It’s that… it seems to be working well, you know? The three of them are getting along, and Mom thinks Iroha is a more or less sane girl, and… Things are good. Really good.”
“And you’re desperate for something that you can fix,” she says.
“Yes. Yes, I am.”
She sighs, her breath warm through my shirt.
“Because you can’t believe they will want you by their side if you aren’t offering something back. Because you think you need to show them your value, or they will forget it and discard you,” she adds, tenderly, lovingly, hurting me.
“Yes,” I answer through an uncooperative throat.
Her arms tighten around me, just shy of being uncomfortable, and she nuzzles her face against my chest in a way that can’t be anything but…
Painful, I guess.
“You’re stupid,” she says, and I can’t argue back. “I… I don’t know about the other two, but Iroha? When she was here? You were… You are her whole world, brother. You are the one thing she can’t look away from. The one person she’ll never part with.”
“’Never’ is a long time…” I tell her, echoing one conversation that was more definitive than I would’ve wanted, even if that’s a lie because I can’t think of anything I want more than me and Haruno redefining one another except for the very same thing also involving Shizu and Iroha.
“Yes. Yes, ‘never’ is a long time, but sometimes… it is just the right amount of time. ‘Hachiman will never stop loving his dumb little sister,’ ‘Komachi will never stop caring for her gross brother,’ and ‘Iroha will never willingly part from her… her lover,’” she says.
And then she goes silent, her arms softening, her grip on me just a hold, no longer a… whatever that was.
No longer something meant to keep me from falling apart, but something that is there to show me how much Komachi means with that last line of hers.
I kiss the top of her head.
“I love you,” I whisper through tresses that warm up with the passing of my breath.
“I know, you gross siscon,” she says as we allow ourselves to relax against one another.
“I’m also planning an orgy,” I add.
And she punches me in my stomach.
Really, I envy her. It seems like her own Self-Preservation-kun is at least partially working.
Comments
Agrippa
This sums up about ninety percent of the fic.
Edison Castelan
Hachiman just had to open up his big mouth
