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By FoxFaceStories

A Commission for Al

After a landslide claims the lives of Ken and several other archaeology students on a field trip to Japan, the great Creator himself apologises for this accident and gives them a chance for a second life. But when Ken talks about his love of harem anime tropes before the others can speak, this ditzy creator sends them all to a new world that operates on anime principles . . . and where Ken’s fellow students and his professor are now all cute anime girls who are desperately trying to fight off their new roles, and their new attraction to him.

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Part 3: Haruka

Haruka was having a hard time. While Mao was clearly adapting so very well to her life, and doing a great job of avoiding Kenji (at least as far as she knew), the new genki girl was struggling to reign in her enormous reserves of energy and sudden, boundless passion for, well, everything! It simply wasn’t fair. Harold hated everything. It had been his thing. Sure, now that she was Haruka she recognised it had been little more than pointless, edgy behaviour that just ticked everyone off, but it had been her personality, damn it! She had the power to sulk all she wanted when she’d been a man, and spit out venomous comments that could reduce a man like Ken to bitter tears.

Now, the thought of bringing down anyone’s mood was just impossible to even consider, at least for very long. She couldn’t even simply walk like a normal person. She ran, full of hot air and energy, arms flapping at her sides in an unrealistically comedic blur. She burst into her classes with a shout, announcing her arrival or whatever was on her mind.

“This is crazy everyone! I can’t believe Mao won the track last night how amazing was that I mean if you knew her like I did you wouldn’t believe it especially since she only joined the team like two and a half weeks ago or maybe it was three weeks but it doesn’t matter because it was incredible and Kenji even got up and helped her and it was sooooo damn sweet I nearly burst that I had to stay up last night and make a song about it does anyone want to hear it?”

It was only after saying something like that that she realised she had just run out of air, and had to take a deep breath. And even if her hurried mass of a run-on sentence was completely unintelligible to most of her fellow students, her male peers (and a few female ones) certainly paid much closer to the moments when she had to collect her breath back. For two reasons mainly. Two rather big, perky reasons.

Haruka had been blessed in the chest, and much more than anyone outside of maybe Tomoko, and she was a much older woman besides. She measured a full F-cup, her boobs nearly half the size of her own head and constantly, constantly reminding her and everyone else of their existence. The fact that they were impressively sensitive only added to the strangeness of having them, as well as how tight-fighting her uniform was, since it outlined her bust in an entirely exaggerated way. Many, many nosebleeds were produced from those who couldn’t stop staring at them, and even her transformed female friends found excuses to touch them, Rika and Alicia most especially.

“They’re just so . . . hypnotic,” the latter said only a week after their change. “You could style them in so many ways. And they’re very fun to play with.”

“Stop it! I didn’t realise you were a lesbian!”

“I’m bisexual, darling! I go both ways now! It’s part of my whole ‘European’ thing now, I think. But even Rika here finds your breasts amazing. Don’t you, Rika?”

The formerly strong male figure blushed furiously, as she seemed to do constantly

“They are . . . very impressive! I don’t know why, but I feel such a strong need to touch them.”

Haruka was thrusting her uniformed chest out at Rika’s face before she knew what she was even doing.

“Feel all you want! There’s plenty to go around, hee hee!”

As best as they could all figure, they were playing out another classic scene from manga and anime. It was the one where they were all in the change room at the same time, examining each others’ bodies, showing petty jealousies and admiration and laughing and bragging and blushing and so forth, all while dancing their conversation around the elephant in the room: their shared love interest. There wasn’t genuine attraction between the girls - except perhaps from Alicia - but they were certainly acting in ways that were how male writers imagined a female change room would be.

“Who cares!?” Mao spat from the corner. “Your boobs are too big! I can’t imagine how annoying it would be to have such big melons weighing me down while trying to play sport.”

“Ignore zee catty one,” said Alicia, who had impressive D-cups, or so she claimed. “She’s just jealous, darling. Your chest is a delight!”

It was then that Tomoko entered, the older woman looking a bit awkward as she joined them, her long purple hair immaculately organised.

“Do you mind if I join you?” she asked.

“Not at all!” Haruka declared, before Mao could say otherwise. “We’re just totally talking about our boobs and how totally weird they are - I guess you’d know a lot about that Tomoko since you’re almost as busty as me!”

Tomoko nodded, looking a bit anxious. “Yes, I imagine I am. I’m still getting used to all of this. It’s all so much.”

“Tell me about it,” Alicia said. “I am not only half-French but I cannot stop speaking in zis adorable accent and looking utterly divine and capitalistic!”

“And I can’t even smoke pot, because it disgusts me!” Mao added.

“I’m so shy,” Rika said. “And it’s so hard not to spend time with Kenji.”

“Kenji,” Tomoko said in a dreamy voice. “I bumped into him going to foreign language class today. He wanted me to tutor him . . . I had to run here.”

“Good call,” Mao said. “Not that I care.”

There was a general chuckle from the group, and Haruka’s voice was highest and giggliest. “Well, you’re more than welcome, Tomoko! We really, really, really missed you! I know you used to be our professor and stuff, but it would mean the absolute world to us - even Mao (“no it wouldn’t!) -  if you would be our friend! We’re not that far apart in age gap anymore, and we’re all in the same boat! Besides, I’m thinking of doing a musical performance soon and it would mean everything if you would attend!”

Tomoko breathed a sigh of relief. “That would be . . . wonderful, Haruka. But I’m not sure. Would that be inappropriate? I’ve tried to keep my distance from you all so I could-”

“Nonsense!” she declared, hugging up against the other woman. “You’re one of us now! We’re all suffering and trying to adapt, we can’t leave our old teacher behind! Besides, you’re still totally the wisest, and shouldn’t have to go through this alone. Come change with us! This is a safe space while we all adjust!”

Alicia snorted. “I think I much prefer this new Haruka to her old self.”

Haruka stuck out her tongue - it was about as petty as she could bring herself to be these days. “I promise I have plenty of dark, terrible, spiteful thoughts beneath all this sugariness,” she said. “It’s just so damn hard when I’ve suddenly got so much passion and excitement and love of music!”

She sang a brief, wordless aria just to emphasise her point. It was only after a withering star from Mao that she stopped herself.

“Sorry. This new me gets . . . carried away sometime. I’m sure you understand too, Tomokok.”

“A lot,” the other woman said. “Except I’m clumsy all the time! I never would have stood for that as a professor, I tell you! At least I still have my academic mind, though neatness is . . . more important to me than it was before, ironically.”

She began peeling off her clothing, changing into her sports outfit since she was overseeing one of Mao’s upcoming games, and participating in an early lower faculty run herself. Everyone froze as they watched her remove her clothing, their jaws slowly falling, their eyes widening, Haruka’s most of all. This was the first time Tomoko had rejoined them in such an intimate setting, and it was now over three weeks since they had changed. None of them knew what her body was like beneath her prim and proper clothing, but now all was revealed: she had a totally ‘yummy mommy’ body, with impressively wide childbearing hips and a slightly thicker waist that complimented her body perfectly. Her breasts were immense, compressed by her bra and a wrapping beneath her suit so that they were squished down quite a lot when covered. Now unleashed, they easily dwarfed even Haruka’s own F-cup tits. These had to be H-cups at the least. Perhaps even double-H, or even J’s! They were easily the size of the woman’s head, if not bigger. Mao’s eyes went green with jealousy. Haruka just gaped.

“You - they - so big!”

Tomoko blushed, holding them up. They easily overwhelmed her palms, her huge nipples filling them too. “I ask that you do not comment. Remember, I am still your professor down deep, even if I’m only a tutor now.”

“Sugoi,” Haruka said. “They are marvellous! Tomoko, you’re so much bigger than even me! I’m so jealous, and so is Mao!”

“Damare!” Mao screeched.

“But they look so perfect! I want to feel them sooooo much!”

Tomoko hurriedly changed. “That won’t be happening! But I will attend your new musical performance!”

“At least wear something that will make you stand out - you shouldn’t hide your beauty!”

Tomoko managed to actually grin. “That’s nice of you to say, Haruka. I hate to agree with Alicia, but I think I might enjoy this new you versus the old one. You may have too much energy, but dare I suggest that it seems you actually like things now?”

Haruka halted, preventing herself from smiling. “I can hate things. I can hate everything. I’m just choosing not to.”

Rika sighed. “It’s harder than that. We’re all trying not to be our new selves. Just make sure not to invite Kenji to this musical performance.”

“I’m not an idiot! He won’t be anywhere near it!”

***

Haruka hadn’t lied or failed her mission. After that experience, she had vowed to fight a little more against these wondrous feelings and prevent herself from inviting Kenji. It had taken a great deal of willpower not to even mention her performance to him, but she’d managed it. It was to be conducted at a rented music theatre in town, one her new parents had paid for. They weren’t Alicia-rich, but they weren’t lacking in wealth. Many J-pop stars needed connections to make it to the top, and this new reality had given them to her: a mother who worked as a model (hence her own inherited large breasts) and a workaholic father she barely saw, but was steeped in the powers-that-be of the music industry.

Music was the one major link that Haruka had to her former self. As Harold, she had been cynical, aggressive, and dismissive, and even a bit of a bully when she could be bothered. She had no real idea what she wanted out of life, and only knew that when people displayed passion in front of her - him at the time - it disgusted him. Perhaps, on some level, it just made him uncomfortable that others could feel so powerfully and sincerely where he couldn’t. But music, at least, inspired something in him. He had liked listening to Led Zeppelin and Metallica and other rock and metal bands, and had slowly drifted to the dark vibes of black metal as well. Edgy tunes with Satanistic themes and gory visuals in their videos made him feel like a lone wolf, a dark badass with nothing to lose and nothing to fear, and occasionally it managed to stir a bit of excitement out of him, like blood from a stone.

Now as Haruka, music maintained an even more powerful grip, except all kinds of metal were completely unappealing now. To the former man’s embarrassment, the boppy, bright, and totally catchy tunes of girly J-pop were her favourites now, and she could easily recite the lyrics to dozens, if not hundreds of J-bands, ranging from dancing boy band hottie singles to entire albums of squeaky-voiced girl models wearing adorable colour-coded dresses. The cheek heart pose was practically ingrained into her procedural memory, as well as the two-finger pose when getting photographed, all while smiling sweetly and emphasising her very voluptuous form. It was maddening, absolutely maddening!

And yet, at the same time, so very addictive.

J-Pop tunes just made her body move; it was impossible to resist a choreographed dance set when it was playing, or to join in when she heard the tune on the radio when she drove to school. The fact that her career trajectory was obviously headed towards literally becoming a J-Pop singer only made these behaviours all the more manifest. To try to hold them in only meant that exploded out of her in excitable, energetic ways.

She couldn’t be less like Harold if she tried, which of course was a deep wound to the pride of her former self that still lurked within her ever moving, ever talking female shell. She complained of this repeatedly to Tomoko, who she started trying to catch up with repeatedly after that initial change room incident.

“I just can’t help myself, it’s so wonderful and infuriating and brilliant and terrible all at the same time!”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Tomoko replied flatly, her more restrained self still looking a little flushed and embarrassed over the conversation. “I have many . . . tendencies that are difficult to resist. I find I am always putting pens and the like in my mouth. An oral fixation of sorts. It’s so - so inappropriate!”

It was practically her catchphrase. In fact, Haruka was certain it was. They each were developing one. Mao said, “not that I care!” quite often, while Alicia exclaimed, “it’s all about style, darling!” Rika, being the sweetheart childhood friend, had a more simple one: “I hope it all works out.” And now Tomoko was saying, “it’s so inappropriate!” whenever the topic of her attraction to the younger Kenji came up, or indeed any other behaviour. She pointed this out to Tomoko, who chuckled.

“I know yours, then.”

“Really? I don’t think I have a catchphrase. I mean, I’m talking so often that I can never stop so I don’t know if anything sticks at all. Maybe I don’t have one? It would be nice to have one though, I suppose. It would be really fun. I just want to have fun, Tomoko!”

Tomoko gave a dark chuckle again. “That’s just it. That’s your catchphrase: ‘I just want to have fun!’ You say it more often than you think, and each of them summarises our personalities. I may not be a professor of literature studies or Japanese texts, or even a professor anymore, but I can make the necessary narrative conventions. Our catchphrases are all elements that define our base new personalities. Mine is being the older woman in a position of authority who inappropriately finds Kenji very . . . attractive. Mhmm.” She placed a pen in her mouth for a moment, sucking on it before remembering herself. “Please ignore that! Whereas your catchphrase is about your energetic approach to life and desire for everyone to have a good time. A bit of a change from who you used to be.”

Haruka sagged for a moment. It took concentrated effort for her to consciously lower her own spirits, but she just about managed it.

“I know. It’s stupid. I lose control to it all the time. I miss being angry and hating everything. At least I was in control back then. Now - now I just really want to dance all the time! Which is so humiliating because it shows off all of . . . this!”

She gestured to her large chest, which even at that moment as they walked the campus grounds together were bouncing and jiggling prominently. Because this was an anime/manga world, they defied gravity, bouncing even more obviously than they would have in reality, as if her large F-cup bra meant practically nothing. Tomoko’s chest, far bigger even than her own, was at least hidden away.

“At least you get to hide it, Tomoko!”

“Perhaps let’s not talk about our chests. I was your professor, once.”

Iie! Who cares!? You’re much younger now, and we’re all in the same boat. You’re like an older sister. You go to the same change room as us on sports days.”

Tomoko sighed. “True. But at least give me some room with this. It’s a lot to get used to.”

“You’re not wrong. Ughhhh, I just wanna go to dance practice already. And dye my hair. It really should be pink. Wouldn’t it look better pink?”

“Do you want it pink, or does Haruka?”

Haruka paused, then pulled her hair over her eyes. “Ughhh, you’re right! I have to resist! I have to -”

Suddenly Tomoko grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her into a nearby bush by the walking path. Haruka shrieked in an embarrassing way, only for the older woman to cover her mouth.

“Shhh!” she hissed. “Don’t say a word!”

Haruka struggled, her new brain desperately wanting to say just about every word. She struggled against Tomoko, which only had the effect of making the woman’s grip slip down to her prodigious breasts, causing her to moan in pleasure and several buttons to come undone.

“It’s Kenji!” Tomoko hissed. “He’s coming!”

Haruka managed to still herself, barely. Through the bushes she could just see him coming. He looked so ordinary, so plain, and yet so handsome in his normality at the same time. The perfect anime protagonist, the kind whose boots could be filled by the reader or viewer, or in this case the chubby nerd she had once so easily derided and mocked as a loser for his passion. Now, her eyes literally became little hearts for a moment, until she again managed to push those thoughts aside.

“Must. Resist. How. Good. Looking. He. Is!”

She did, as did Tomoko, who was chewing on a leaf furiously just to distract herself. Unfortunately, at that very moment, Haruka spotted a small white spider descending by a thin silver filament web down right before her nose. She gave a little ‘eep!’, and Tomoko also shuddered. The busty pair could hardly contain their sudden fear. Haruka tried to concentrate on the fact that she literally had a pet tarantula in her other life, but it was all for nought. Her new self was a total girly girl.

She burst from the bushes, terrified and squealing, and straight into Kenji’s shocked arms. In a scene that could have been cut from any harem manga, he yelled in shock, toppled forward and landed on top of her, his face buried in her magnificent cleavage.

“Spider! Spider! I hate them so much Kenji save me save me save me!”

Kenji was unable to say a word; his face was muffled by her cavernous cleavage, which practically suffocated him. He managed to free himself after a few seconds, blushing furiously at how much of her boobs were on display. She covered them, grinning sheepishly as she rocketed back to her feet.

“Oops! Don’t look! There was a spider in the bushes!”

Kenji looked, but Tomoko had withdrawn deeper, hidden from his sight. She took the moment to appreciate him, though. It made her wet between her lusty thighs, and once more she knew she’d have to ‘take care’ of that in the privacy of her study. Not the fate she’d imagined for herself. In the meantime, Kenji found the spider and placed it away from Haruka, back in the bushes.

“There you go,” he said. “All better now. Are you okay, Haruka?”

“Much better! Thank you so very much! I was sooooo terrified! Kowai! You arrived, like, just in time Kenji!”

She moved closer to him, bouncing on her feet in relief. Kenji, as naturally as any red-blooded male, found it very difficult not to look at her deeply prominent cleavage.

“Um, what were you doing in the bushes though?” he asked. After the experience with Mao, something no one else knew about yet, he didn’t want to fall into another trap and accidentally end up having sex again. He still felt a little guilty. Well, not really, but he would if it kept happening!

“M-maybe you should button up your top before you answer that,” he added.

Haruka looked down at her huge, wobbling cleavage. Unlike the others, she didn’t go bright red, but she did become even bouncier. “Oh, I didn’t realise! How embarrassing. You could have been looking at my boobs the whole time! I bet if I were Mao I would have slapped you, heehee!”

She hastily buttoned them up, but the buttons still strained from how she stood, revealing diamonds of pink flesh that made Kenji have to put his books in front of his crotch to hide his growing erection. It made Haruka feel even more playful.

“Oh, since you saved me, I guess I owe you. You can take one peek!”

She undid the top button, just for fun. The Harold personality lurking underneath it all practically raged against this, but with no power to enforce itself. Haruka was enjoying the hypnotising power of her tits too much. It made sense for her new personality; Tomoko was the busty girl embarrassed over her large chest, but Haruka was the extravert who flaunted them proudly. She did so then, and Kenji went red, a nosebleed appearing.

“Aren’t they just great?”

Sugoi,” he mumbled. “They are. I mean - what were you doing in the bushes?”

She realised she had no excuse. “I was trying to avoid - ugh, I was trying to avoid doing this! And now I’m doing it! We’re trying to avoid you, remember?”

“We?”

Tomoko coughed meaningfully from the bushes.

“Um, a metaphorical we?” Haruka said, smiling sweetly. “But obviously I can’t avoid you because of the rules of this place, and you did free me from that spider, and besides you’re just looking so cute today. And I really need someone to come to my music performance this Friday night. Won’t you come, Kenji?”

“W-well I was planning to study. And Mao has a game-”

“Forget the game! You’re always with Mao, it’s not fair. You have to share us. That way you don’t end up having sex with one of us or whatever, right?”

Kenji swallowed, a big bead of sweat cartoonishly falling down his temple. He didn’t want Haruka to know that he and Mao had already had sex . . . and more than once, now. She would drag him into hidden closets and other spaces for their taboo relations, then curse him as she left, angry at having done the deed that they both so desperately craved. “I g-guess that logic makes sense.”

“Great! Then it’s decided! You’ll come and support me, and get to see me on stage with the dazzling lights and costumes! It’s going to be amazing!”

She hugged him, and it only had the effect of making her pillowy boobs squash against his chest. The eruption of cleavage pushed up to his chin, and it took all her genki girl energy to allow her to run off in excitement and end the discussion.

Tomoko caught up with her, of course, after the coast was clear. The purple-haired older woman looked as forlorn as she used to when students hadn’t handed in their papers.

“You invited him.”

“I know! Won’t it be great!”

“You were trying not to invite him, remember?”

Haruka blinked, realisation coursing over her. “Oh. Oh no. OH NO! I wasn’t meant to do that! This is a disaster!”

Tomoko sighed. “For you, at least. I suggest, as I advised you once, to show self-control. I don’t want anything inappropriate happening to you.”

Haruka nodded in affirmation, agreeing with her former professor turned confidante and friend. Except she was already thinking about all manner of inappropriate things, such as how good it had felt to have Kenji’s face suffocating in her cleavage.

“Mhmmm,” she murmured dreamily as she headed off to performance class.

***

The hall was filled with people, most of them students from campus, but also many outsiders in their early twenties and even a few in their early thirties. All the girls were present except for Mao who had a game on. They had dressed up in more casual clothing. Alicia, naturally, was wearing a golden dress that looked not only expensive but simply divine, while Tomoko was adorned in a more formal feminine suit that still hid her many curves. Rika was rather glam, having achieved the stereotypical moment where the ‘ordinary’ looking childhood friend dresses up in a feminine blue dress with slight cleavage and bare shoulders, enough to make the protagonist realise how beautiful she was. And Kenji was certainly seeing that: the two accidentally bumped into one another in the press of the crowd, and with embarrassed, flushed faces they gave repeated compliments.

“You look - you look very beautiful, Rika.”

“And you look very manly, Kenji. I didn’t realise you would look so good in a formal shirt like this. It suits you.”

“Are you coping okay? I know our friendship drifted apart, but it’s been great to see you often again, even if this is all my fault.”

She lowered her gaze to the dance floor. “It may be your fault, but I know you didn’t intend it. This isn’t even Rika’s thoughts, but my old self speaking as well. I - I can forgive you for it, because it wasn’t intended. It just gets awkward. I always feel so nervous and shy in your presence, and I want to . . .”

Her gaze lingered further up to the stage, as did his. They were saved by the arrival of Haruka, and she considered this a good thing as well. By sheer narrative coincidence, both Kenji and Rika were positioned in centre stage, a small circle of people around them so they were easily visible. Their hands were lingering so very closely to one another’s, and Haruka felt a surge of anger and jealousy. It was almost like being Harold again.

“Oh no. Not you two!” she muttered under her breath as her dancers and musicians got ready. “I invited him. I’m the one that gets his attention today. Not you Rika, no matter how cute and amazing and adorable you look in that super beautiful blue dress! Utsukushī!”

She activated the mic, and caught the attention of the crowd. Many eyes - particularly the male ones - looked her way. She was wearing a super cute silvery outfit that matched her fellow dancers and backup singers, with the classical headband that gave her a cutesy look. Naturally, her shoes were high-heeled boots, and the hem of her dress fell to her mid-thigh, leaving a gap of skin before her see-through stockings began. Her prodigious bustline was nicely displayed, though not too much so, with just a hint of cleavage. The rest was merely suggested by the strained profile of the dress.

“Good evening, everyone! It’s sooooooo cool to see you all here! My name is Haruka Harada, and I’m the lead singer for a new band we’re calling Love Love Adventure. I’m super excited to be singing for you tonight. Do we all plan to have a super amazing fun time on the dance floor tonight?”

The crowd cheered, Kenji among them. She grinned at his response in particular: he was looking right at her, and it made her feel even more bubbly than usual.

Sugoi! Because we really, really want people to hit the dance floor hard tonight! I just love seeing people having a good time. I just want to have fun, and so should you! So let’s get to it. This first song is called Nice to Be Here, and those who know me might be able to guess some of the super hidden meanings behind it.”

She made a quick two-fingers ‘cheese’ pose as several individuals in the crowd took photos, before sweeping her hand to gesture for the lighting guys to get started. The stage suddenly went dark, as did the wider theatre. There was a moment’s pause, a rising of tension and excitement, and suddenly the lights were on again, this time in bright pinks, purples, and reds, hovering exclusively on the stage. Haruka had gotten herself into position beside her fellow dancers and backup singers, and they moved as one, vocals blending together as they engaged in their choreographed movements.

“Here in the city lights, our dreams come alive,

Beneath the neon sky, it’s our time to thrive.

Hear the rhythm in the streets, we’re gonna find our way,

My heartbeat sings to me: it’s a brand new day!”

She wheeled about and spun, moving in time to the other dancers’ movements. The crowd hollered, several whistling at the sight of the beautiful women on stage, and she revelled in those sounds, amping up to the next verse. She beamed as the lights flashed over her form, and any embarrassment over what she had become faded away: she wanted to show off her form, and let her chest wobble and jiggle so it got all the attention it deserved. Much better than being a cynical loner; now she was the centre of attention!

“In this strange new world, we'll find our space,

Lots of crazy new rules, and brand new faces,

Hand in hand, we’ll make it through this night,

Don’t yourselves girls; we’ll be alright!”

The changed women in the room began to realise the meaning of the lyrics as they were sung. Haruka was in full cheer as she saw the epiphany upon their faces. Alicia began to dance, as did Tomoko, even if the latter was very much restrained. Rika’s eyes bubbled with tears of joy, and even Kenji looked to be mesmerised not just by her form, but by the lyrics as well. Things would be alright, if they kept together. They’d all been so separate for over three weeks, but coming together under the power of music was what she could do for them to lift their spirits. Even Mao’s, when the time came in the future.

“It’s nice to be here, where our wish has shined,

It’s the song of life, our changing souls entwine.

And every step we take, a new story unfolds,

We’ve come so far . . . who knows what the future holds?”

The song continued, as did the others following. The dance floor quickly kicked up a storm, and even the former men who had been nervous to approach it and embrace their new selves began to do so, at least for this one night. Alicia abandoned any of her former anarcho-cynicism and wholesale embraced the populism of J-Pop, singing along with the lyrics and twirling her impressive dress all about. Tomoko was off to the side a bit more, mingling with some of her older peers and even some of the teaching staff who had turned up to support Haruka. She was enjoying herself visibly, even as she blushed a little, though at one point she clearly had to duck off to the bathrooms when her breasts suddenly surged forward after a particular dance move, her restraining band having snapped under the tremendous pressure. It took everything in Haruka not to giggle. She couldn’t imagine concealing breasts that large! Even Rika was getting involved, and when she did she became an alluring sight. More than anyone else, she displayed a surprising elegance and grace on the dance floor. The world quite literally went to slow motion, the colours bleeding out like an water colour painting as she began to loosen up. She and Kenji danced together, the former friends looking closer and closer as their forms circled around. Kenji was lost in the beauty of Rika’s eyes.

“I can’t believe you used to be your other self,” he said. “You look so - so beautiful, Rika. I’m sorry if that makes you feel awkward.”

“It does make me feel awkward,” she admitted, looking away. “But . . . I don’t mind you saying it. It feels nice to be told that. I don’t feel very beautiful.”

“But you are. I’m not saying that because of the harem anime rules or whatever. I’m saying it because it’s true. You look stunning, Rika. And I’m so glad we’re spending time together. I know you don’t want this to go too far and I understand, but it’s good to be friends again, at least.”

Rika smiled. “It’s . . . it’s nice. I missed talking with you. And even this ridiculous anime scene is kinda funny to be in, isn’t it?”

He laughed. “It is! I know this is stupid, but it feels like a dream come true in a way. Of course, I didn’t expect you to be my victorious childhood friend.”

“Not victorious yet. Or at all, I mean! I can enjoy reliving my old manga interests, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to live them. Even if you look very cute right now.”

Kenji’s eyebrows raised. “I do?”

“You really do. It almost feels like this moment is scripted, Kenji. Like I’m going to . . .”

The lights flashed down upon them, a halo that showed only them against a background of silhouettes. The pair drew closer together, and before they could stop each other they were kissing tenderly. Their lips locked together, Rika having to raise herself just to meet him. Kenji hadn’t meant for this to happen, and Rika definitely hadn’t. And yet it was just as she had imagined, even way back then . . .

Haruka watched this occur. The entire audience faded to black - this was not a metaphor, the world’s narrative localised around the kissing pair - and she went green, just as literally. She was just finishing her high note when her voice noticeably cracked and died away. Her backup choir had to pitch in to finish the song, which they did in style, but her own focus was lost as her gaze locked upon Kenji’s lips on another woman’s. Harold’s own cynical spitefulness lurched up her throat like regurgitated acid. It bubbled in her mouth before receding back into the pit of her stomach, which felt like it was on fire with ulcers.

“He was meant to come and see me. He was meant to focus on me. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. I just want to have fun, but now Rika has ruined it! No, it’s not her fault. It’s not anyone’s fault. I just . . . lost!”

Yuki, one of her music friends, approached her as the crowd roared at the song’s conclusion. “Is everything okay, Haruka? You look upset. You never look upset!”

But the tears were flowing now. Haruka was a woman of powerful emotion. She was almost always full of positivity and energy, but as she was discovering now, sadness could be just as powerful in those rare moments when it came on.

“I’ve got to go. I’m done here. You guys play everyone out.”
She walked away from the stage, feeling utterly low.

The only one that noticed her leave was Kenji. Haruka hadn’t seen it, but Rika had gotten ahold of her senses and pulled away from him. With teary-eyes, she’d fled into the crowd, telling him not to follow her.

Which meant that he decided to follow and check up on somebody else.

***

Haruka hummed to herself on the subway. It always cheered herself up when she hummed. It gave her life some further musicality and positivity. The image of Kenji’s lips on Rika’s still haunted her, but gradually that malaise dissipated. After all, it wasn’t like she actually wanted Kenji to kiss her, right? That was just her Haruka self! She may be excitable, but deep down she was still Harold, wanting to push the world away. She was sure of it.

“Hey, sexy lady!”

Haruka snapped her head around. The subway only had a few people on it, and one man a few years older than her had a pervert’s grin on his face.

“Leave me alone please!” she snapped. “Please sir, I don’t want any trouble!”

“But I love trouble!” he exclaimed. “I see two big troubles right in front of me!”

He snapped out his hands before she could react and squeezed her tremendous breasts, nearly freeing them from her silvery dress. She squealed in horror.

“Hentai! Pervert! Please leave me alone!”

The man giggled in a nauseating fashion to himself, groping to the point where Haruka was in pain. Harold would have slammed his fist into the man’s face, but Haruka was too small and weak and cutesy to do anything.

“Help me, somebody!”

“No one’s coming to help! These tits are all mine to play with! And I’m going to-”

He didn’t get another word in. A flying fist came out of nowhere and knocked the man out cold. He collapsed in a heap into one of the subway seats, and Haruka was so in awe that it took her a moment to realise who had done it.

“Kenji!?” she exclaimed, seeing him breathing heavily, his fist bleeding sliding, his expression shocked at his own action.

“Are you okay, Haruka?”

“Y-yes! Now that you’re here! Thank you!”

She wrapped him in a hug, and once more his face was in her breasts. She savoured it this time until he finally detached himself.

“Come on, this is your stop, right?”

She nodded.

“Then let’s go before he wakes, the disgusting pervert. I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

He took her hand and they got off the train. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest as they ascended up the stairs, into the street, and then slowed down as they made their way to her home. It didn’t take long, and for once Haruka had little to say other than to reassure Kenji that she was alright.

“I can’t believe you knocked him out,” she finally said.

“Me either,” he replied. “I guess that was my big anime protagonist moment, because I never could have done that before.”

“I could have. Before, I mean.”

“I’m sorry about that. But your performance tonight was magnificent! You had everyone’s attention.”

She blurted out her next statement. “I didn’t have yours, though! You were kissing Rika.”

“Actually, Rika kissed me,” he said, going nervous again. His cheeks bloomed red, and her own jaw fell into a gaping void, though just for a moment.

“She did!?”

“Yes, and then she ran away regretting it. It was a weird night. I just wanted to have fun.”

“That’s my saying! I just want to have fun!”

“And did you?”

She paused as they reached the doorway of her home. Predictably, neither of her parents were home, so she used the key under the mat.

“I thought I was, but I think I wanted to spend time with you, like she was.”

He gave an easy, attractive smile. “We can always to that Haruka. I want that.”

She opened the door, and a sudden cheekiness came over her. A powerful need to expend her energy in a particular way that Harold would never have approved of, but that her libido desperately demanded as soon as possible.

“Let’s spend time together now then, you absolutely cutie!”

She dragged him in and was immediately kissing him. Kenji had suspected this might happen at the threshold, and just as with Mao, he failed to hold himself back. His own harem protagonist instincts were driving him as much as Haruka’s female obsession with him, and soon they were moving straight to her bedroom.

“My parents are never home, so we have all the time we need. All the time,” she repeated, “for you to play with these big, bouncy tits! They’re a lot bigger than Rika’s, I bet!”

She ripped down her dress, revealing her perfect globes in all their naked glory. They bounced for whole seconds, causing Kenji to develop yet another blood nose.

“Oki,” he said, mesmerised. “So big.”

You can touch them, you know,” she said as she dragged him up onto the bed. “I really want you to.”

“Are you sure, you never would have wanted this-”

“Before before before. But I do now, Kenji! I’m full of sooooo much energy and it’s maddening. I’m always so positive and happy and I want you to feel the same with me. Won’t you please feel my big tits? I’ll be your perfect harem girlfriend, I just know it!”

He couldn’t resist that call. He began groping her tits, and it was so much better than the pervert on the train’s touch. It was gentle, slow, and it drew out her pleasure.

But she wanted things to go much more quickly. An idea formed in her mind. She began feeling his cock, rubbing his trousers so that he became harder and harder. He was big - bigger than she expected. Big enough for what she wanted to do. She kissed him firmly, giggling as he continued to fondle her incredibly sensitive nipples, and then she moved down and kneeled at the edge of the couch.

“Sit down! Trust me, you’re going to super love this! It’ll be amazing for the both of us!”

He was momentarily confused until she helped him remove his trousers and underwear, then placed his erect cock in her cleavage, sandwiching it between her mammoth breasts. Ordinarily, lube would have been needed, but this reality didn’t work like that. It was far more convenient, and hot.

“OHhhhhh,” he moaned as she began giving him his first ever titty job. He was not a virgin anymore thanks to Mao, but she was so demanding when it came to sex, and always preferred to be on top. Now Haruka was literally on her knees before him as he sat at the end of the bed, using her tits to rub his cock to fruition. She stared at it, giggling in delight.

“You like this, don’t you! Are you having fun!?”

“So much f-fun!” he declared. “The greatest! Ohhhh, this is amazing, Haruka! You’re amazing!”

“I f-feel amazing again! I’m going to make this the best night ever! Get ready for the high note, Kenji!”

Lost in the moment, she did something she never imagined ever doing, even once she knew the score of this world. She placed her lips on the head of his cock and began to suck away, making Kenji groan with even greater bliss. She continued to rub her tits against his cock, but her tongue contributed extra. It was only when she felt it throb between her breasts that she pulled back and looked up into his eyes. She wanted to give him a show!

“YESSSSS, HARUKA! YESSSS!!!”

He erupted all over her, his seed splashing against her face, her mouth her neck, and - most prominently - her tits as well. She was splattered with his issue, and it was somehow deeply fucking hot.

“Mhmmmmm,” she moaned, cumming as well. The sensation of her nipples rubbing against his skin did it, as well as the general sexiness of the whole situation. She cried out again and again as more orgasms hit her, and each was as musical as the last. A small part of her was disgusted, but the rest was enticed, and fully satisfied, especially once Kenji used his hand to caress her cheek and stroke her hair.

“That was incredible,” Kenji said. It had been just as good as Mao, but so different. Another dream come true.

“It was,” she replied, giggling. “But I think that was just a rehearsal. The actual performance will be sooo much better, after a bit more practise.”

This time, Kenji giggled with her.


To Be Continued . . .

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