All Right! Fine! I Will Take You! – Chapter 18 (Patreon)

Today, Hikigaya sensei is going to teach you all about the battle planning scene.

The battle planning scene is something that, while not present in every action shounen, can be a fundamental part of the narrative. Of course, blond aliens who just scream a lot rarely, if ever, feel the need to plan much more than just deciding by which time-multiplier-slash-gravity-multiplier are they going to commit suicide, I mean, train their bodies to reach new limits. But when the characters have less straightforward capabilities, such as, for instance, the skill to reverse causality for a single attack or reverse genders for unlimited waifus (works), a scene where the main characters discuss how to approach their new challenge can be vital.

Mostly, so that the very confused player feels like he has a tenuous grasp on what the Hell’s going on and doesn’t think his continuous trips to the feline-themed dojo are random bullshit.

They are, of course, but it’s important that players don’t think so.

Moreover, as a scene archetype, it introduces plenty of opportunities for character interaction, development, and fanservice—I mean, for the protagonist to get into cooking battles with the tsundere and yandere.

… And now I want to play a Fate game with Shokugeki no Souma Servants. The CGs can be directly lifted from the anime.

Still, the main drawbacks of such a scene are, as Zaimokuza would put it, manifold. Scratch that: as Zaimokuza would put it, they are as plentiful as the laments of the Valkyrie on the blood-red battlefields of spellcheck (translator’s note: “Valkyrie” means “beta reader”). For one, they can erase tension if the plan decided upon goes off without a hitch, but they can also feel like boring exposition heaping upon itself. That is precisely why, more often than not, some unexpected element is introduced into the mix so that viewers will be thrown out of balance and proper pacing can be reestablished without a panty shot.

A good example of how a battle planning situation can be thrown off the rails would be, for instance, to have the handsome, clever, downright saintly protagonist visit his two paramours (his stats are so good that he deserves them, damn it) only for them to—

“Iroha, lock the door!”

“Done!”

Right. That.

…

All right, let’s summarize: I have left my (very straightforward and not at all confusing and laced with mixed feelings from all involved parties) meeting with Yui and Yukinosh—Yukino (yes, still getting used to that particular relationship upgrade). Of course, that wasn’t enough emotional drain for the day, so I immediately headed to Shizu’s apartment to have a proper planning session regarding how we are going to tackle Haruno’s issues in a way that will hopefully not involve actual, physical tackles—not holding my breath on that one.

Then I sat at her table to partake in Iroha’s always plentiful bag of snacks and Shizu’s shitty teabags (I’m in love, not taste challenged), only for them to smile weirdly at one another and… Do this.

Whatever the Hell this is.

“I feel I should warn you that it’s very unlikely my parents will ever pay you any ransom. In fact, they may demand you pay them damages if you ever intend to let me go.”

“The fact you can say that with such a straight face is either very impressive or very disturbing,” Shizu comments, her hand already raising for a customary temple rub.

“At least he didn’t add anything about how his sister would fetch a much better price…” Iroha says, scratching her cheek in cute discomfort.

You know, I never quite got the appeal of bullying cute characters, but…

“Of course not! No matter how high the ransom, what kidnapper would ever be so foolish as to let go of the treasure that is Komachi?” Really, that is just basic economics: there’s plenty of money, but only one Komachi, so supply and demand are unfairly skewed in her favor.

“Senpai, I’m going to be mad.”

“Iroha, you are as confusing as ever.”

“How can you be so smooth at times and then pull off cringe like this is completely beyond me…” Shizu’s temple rubbing intensifies.

Right, every woman I’m having sexual relations with is already annoyed. Mission accomplished; time to sip my tea with eyes half-closed and faux British poise.

“So,” I add after a short sip that allows me to pretend this isn’t something most supermarkets would refuse to ever disgrace their aisles with, “why am I currently locked in with you?”

Or, as an American superhero obsessed with online personality quizzes and trench coats would put it: why are you locked in here with me?

Really, dude, chill: it’s usually butterflies. Or two bears dancing. Or a human split in half.

All right, the thing can get pretty creepy, I admit it.

It seems that, while my own personal monologue on how disturbing both superheroes and personality assessment tools can become in the hands of Westerners, Iroha and Shizu have been maintaining a non-verbal communication that has ended up with Shizu sighing and Iroha triumphantly smirking. Somehow, I feel like this perfectly encapsulates the relationship we three will have going forward.

“Hachi…” Shizu seems like she’s gathering her strength after calling out my pet name. That and blushing slightly in a way that has me tighten the reins on my Deep-Voiced Bastard transformation. No! Too strong! This power shall remain sealed in my Tyrant’s arm!

…

Zaimokuza must never know.

Also, Iroha, stop elbowing Shizu. It makes her jiggle, and that, in turn, weakens the seal.

“Hachi,” she starts once again, “what did you want to do today?”

“Uh, isn’t the male the one who’s supposed to not pay attention and have things naggingly repeated at him?”

“Indulge me,” she replies with an eyebrow twitch. It looks like the temple rubbing is as efficient as ever. That is, not at all.

“Well… I just got Yukinoshi—Yukino’s permission to deal with Haruno as I see fit, so I wanted to talk with you two about how to proceed now that—”

Shizu’s finger is pressing on my lips. This has produced two reactions in me: the need to annoyedly tell her that she shouldn’t ask if she’s going to interrupt my answer and the desire to suck on it and tease her with my tongue.

I indulge on the second.

“Eek!” And now she’s cradling her hand, the slight blush from earlier having come back with reinforcements.

Also, Iroha is very visibly holding back her laughter.

“You are despicable,” my teacher finally says, her cheeks still as red as the kaio-ken aura I very dearly hope she never develops.

“And you’re delightfully cute when you act all embarrassed like this.” Uh. My voice isn’t deep right now. Weird.

Ah, well, I’m sure this won’t have any unforeseen effects going forward.

I mean, Shizu overheating is definitely not unforeseen.

“Hachi,” Iroha’s soft voice intrudes, likely having taken whatever passes for pity on Shizu in the kitsune’s emotional spectrum (some form of smug superiority, I’m sure), “what we both are trying to say is that… You don’t need to do this.”

What?

“What?” Oi, Brain-chan, no hijacking my vocal cords. I already have enough with one entity doing that.

Also, why are you two both sighing and rubbing your temples? Are you already that deeply connected? Have your menstrual cycles synchronized? Is this a blood-red Lily Garden—

Ugh. Gross. Hachiman levels gross.

“You just… kinda broke up with your first two loves. It’s all right for you to take time for yourself. Hell, it should always be all right for you to do that,” Shizu tries to clarify.

“Where was this attitude when I ‘forgot’ to do my assignments?”

“If you hadn’t done the air quotes thing, I may have actually given you a pass.”

“Tee-hee?”

“No. No ‘tee-hee.’ And if you’re trying to kill my libido, that’s a very good way to do it.”

“Are you really sure that’s—” I start to growl.

Oi, Iroha, why are you suddenly covering my mouth with your hands? Am I being canceled today? Is this what this constant censure is about?

“Senpai… No. Not that voice. We need to have a conversation, and that’s going to derail things like always.”

What do you mean, ‘that voice?’ It’s not like I—

Oh. Stupid seal. That will teach me to go to the cheap temples.

“Right…” Shizu adds, with seemingly no small relief. “So… I give up. Iroha? Please?” Oh, Shizu’s puppy eyes. It’s rare to see them outside of a ramen shop.

Quick, Iroha, do the thing!

“I... guess I could try to explain things?” she says with a great deal of reticence. Also, bad Iroha, folding to Shizu’s spoiled habits is not ‘the thing.’ The thing should always involve a camera!

Still reluctant, Iroha pushes me till I half raise and get my chair away from the table.

Then she plops down on my lap, her cheeks reddening, her smile foxy.

…

All right, I may accept this as another ‘thing.’ We may need to agree on proper nomenclature to avoid misunderstandings in the future.

“So, Hachi, what Shizu and I are trying to get at is that… You have a problem.”

“You may need to be slightly more specific.”

“Right…” her butt wiggles a bit, as if trying to make herself more comfortable. I bite my lip. “The problem in question is that… About Haruno, what did you intend to do?”

“Uh, that’s what we are here to decide?”

“Don’t lie to me. We are here to talk about it so that you can see how we feel about it, and then you will decide what plan better suits the objectives of all involved parties.”

“I feel like that’s a very convoluted way to rephrase what I just said.”

“You would… So, tell me: how do you feel about it?”

“… Uh?”

“You heard me,” the small girl whose bottom is firmly planted on my lap says before she grabs my cheeks and forces me to stare straight at her, “how do you feel about it? The sister of a girl you loved just tried to pull a stunt because she’s still in love with one of your girlfriends. How do you feel about it? Are you angry, indignant, hurt?”

Is her voice slightly… growly?

“I… am not? I think, I… I saw her hurting, and that’s a pain she’s been carrying for quite long, and—”

“And you want to solve it,” she whispers, eyes still boring into my own.

“Of course I do.” I reply, my voice more uncertain than I expected.

“Why?”

“Because… I just told you, she’s hurt and—”

“No. Why. Why you, why us, why should you care if another girl has some form of unresolved trauma? Why should you involve your girlfriends in her troubles, why should you push yourself so much for her sake, why do you care if Haruno—”

“She’s my friend!”

“Is she? Isn’t she just playing with you for her amusement? Hasn’t she outright made a move on your girlfriend in front of you? That doesn’t sound like a friend to—” Iroha’s hands burn on my skin, but not as much as the blood heating up the sides of my neck, as the blurry—

“She is! I… care for her, I do! I don’t know if I would even have managed to get together with Shizu if she hadn’t pushed me!”

There’s a gasp from the other side of the table, but honey eyes are consuming my world.

“That was her choice. Just as it was to rile Shizu up by kissing you without your permission, just as it was to try to pull off a plan that only failed because she lost control. Those are things she did by herself, for herself, and you—”

“She’s hurt! I need to fix it!”

And then another hand gets between Iroha’s, and slender fingers clutch my chin before pushing me up to meet blue, almost grey eyes atop honey ones.

“People can’t be fixed, Hachi,” she says.

And I don’t think she’s ever said anything more hurtful to me.

I… I struggle with what to say, how to say it, because this goes against everything I have worked so hard for through the past year, against everything I’ve accomplished as a part of the Service Club, but words flee from me while warm, tender blue holds me with more compassion than I would expect after such a line.

There’s no derision, no reproach. No disgust.

Shizu’s still looking at me with love, even after saying that.

And then Iroha’s hands pull me down, and her lips meet mine in a kiss that’s hungry, almost desperate, and Shizu’s arms surround me from the side.

It’s… I don’t respond, not quite, beyond surrounding the girl in my lap with my own arms, pressing her warm, soft body against mine, and letting her lips comfort me while my mind whirls in confusion, still unsure about what’s actually going on, because it felt like they were rejecting me, my efforts, but they do it while… While doing this.

So… I may be mistaken?

I guess there’s a first time for everything.

‘Are you sure you want me to start on that?’

Shut up, Brain-chan. Nobody asked you.

***

The three of us have now moved to Shizu’s suspiciously gray sofa (the one that looks custom-made to hide ash stains and cigarette burns), and I have the very novel experience of sitting in the middle of two attractive women who are cuddling me.

Komachi must never know.

In my hands, there’s a can of Max Coffee. Iroha bought it for me, and Shizu hid it until the conversation reached the point she thought I would need it.

… Do they have a walkthrough? Is the Hikigaya Dating Simulator doing well in the charts?

“You always do this, you know?” Shizu says from where her cheek is pressed against my chest.

“Seriously, Hachi. Forcing an innocent maiden like me to pull something like that…” Iroha’s voice drifts from my shoulder. Her fingers are interlaced with Shizu’s over my lap.

“Forcing you to do what, exactly?” I ask. Mostly because it’s one thing I can latch onto that doesn’t seem related to this tangled mess of thorny feelings.

“Act like you! Do you even know how hard it was to do that weird thing with my voice dropping as I kept talking and pushing?! How do you manage to do that without bursting into embarrassment-fueled flames?” Her cheeks are now red once again, her voice slightly sulky, and her fingers tight around Shizu’s own.

Which… Yeah, makes sense.

“It’s a forbidden technique, Iroha. You aren’t ready for it; your training is far too lacking.”

And now she has gone utterly still.

“My... what?”

“Your training in the ninja arts—”

And now she’s sitting astride my lap, the hand that isn’t clutching Shizu’s like a lifeline grabbing my collar.

Also, I no longer have my comforting can of Max Coffee.

I consider this unforeseen theft proof enough of my theories.

“How the fuckdo you know about that?”

“… What?”

“The—the ninja... stuff! How?!”

…

“I actually thought it was more likely you were a kitsune, but, well, given your propensity for hidden voyeurism, ‘kunoichi’ also made sense…”

“… What?”

“Iroha… He doesn’t know what you’re talking about. Neither do I, for that matter.”

“… Oh.” And now her cheeks are crimson red. Really, this must be the most erotic face she could make in front of a vampire.

Have I mentioned that she’s sitting astride my lap while blushing and twisting her body in embarrassment the very same day I discovered how appealing bullying cute, foxy, sometimes bratty, and often smug girls can be?

Heck, she’s only missing a fangy grin, and I think those would be disturbing in real life. My lower body certainly agrees that it’s not a vital component.

“Eek!”

Right. I think she gets the idea.

Just before Iroha jumps away from my bodily reaction (perfectly natural, healthy young man, blah, blah, blah), I grab her hips and pull her down.

I am not trying to get her to rub herself against me, but… I am not not trying.

“Now…” I start, my voice maybe slightly deeper than usual, “what’s this whole ninja business about? Do I need to check you for hidden weapons?”

“Senpai is… a pervert,” she says, still wiggling in a very counterproductive manner if she actually has an issue with that.

“Iroha, I caught you about to masturbate in public while Shizu had my cock down her throat—ouch.” Truly, the finger-stab should also be a forbidden technique. It may actually be a counter for the Deep-Voiced Bastard. Also, Shizu, good thing you trim your nails.

“That… That was in the heat of the moment!”

Oh, in stereo. Nice.

“I’m not complaining. To either of you.”

“Of course you wouldn’t,” Shizu mutters.

“I feel like we’re getting away from the very important topic of one of my girlfriends basically confessing to being a trained killer.”

“I haven’t said anything remotely implying that!”

The line is expected.

“Shizu? Anything we should know about?”

The speaker isn’t.

“Ah… Force of habit. Sorry. Iroha, ninja, trained killer, yes. Makes sense.”

“It actually doesn’t,” I carefully point out.

“Right. That’s what I meant. Anything to confess, young lady?”

Iroha is looking at Shizu with her weird awe once again, so I guess it falls to me to not let the subject go like any rational boyfriend would do at this stage.

“What do you mean with ‘force of habit?’”

And she groans.

“It’s… It’s embarrassing, all right? Some… people think I’m some kind of ex-mob boss or something just because—” she interrupts herself and gestures at her usual ensemble minus jacket and coat. That vest is still far too stiff, by the way—I mean, I love what it does with her waist and pushing up her breasts, but it’s far too intrusive for… Oh, she comes with a built-in anti-NTR barrier! Nice!

Still, this may not be the best time to tell her how many times I’ve imagined her as a protagonist in a yakuza film.

“Right. Dumb people saying dumb things. Now, back to the ninja thing—”

“It was a fantasy! A fantasy about watching you two while you convinced her to let me watch! There, I said it, now can you leave me alo—hmmph!”

The ‘hmmph,’ of course, is the part where I smash my lips against hers and shove my tongue through them.

After about half a second, her body is pressed against mine, and her hips are swaying over my lap, grinding down on me.

After about half a minute, I let her go, her breathing coming in short, rushed gulps of air.

“There, good girl. You can share your fantasies with us any time you feel like it.”

Honey eyes try to focus on my own dead-fish ones as Iroha’s delightful bust goes up and down with each loud breath.

“So… unfair…”

And Shizu snorts.

“That’s what you get for imagining me getting fucked unconscious until I agreed to let you watch, brat.”

Ah, Iroha’s overheating. Maybe she needs liquid cooling. Last time worked well enough.

… I mayactually be a pervert. Who knew.

‘Really? Really?!’

Shut up, Brain-chan. Nobody asked you.

Also, while you distracted me, Iroha managed to escape and get off my lap before getting off in my lap. I’ll never forgive you, Brain-chan.

Though her cute, excited, frustrated, embarrassed face is… Just how many fetishes do I have, damn it?!

“Anyway,”she forces herself to say, “conversation. Not over.”

“Ah, do you want me to take over? You look a little… flustered,” Shizu tells her from where she’s resumed cuddling my side, though her hand is not lying on my lap at this time. This may be for the best, but sure feels like the worst.

“Yes. Thank you.”

“Right…” Shizu, that knowing grin is also quite… distracting. “So… I don’t even know where to start.”

“Could it be at the place where we already discussed whatever it is you’re trying and failing to get at, and you both agreed to let me handle things—”

“No.”

“Shizu, don’t you know that faking accepting feedback is a vital skill to climb the corporate ladder? You’re never going to be able to get a better salary than a teacher’s job like this, and then how will you be able to afford two deadbeat significant others—I mean, two caring, loving, house caring partners?”

“You aren’t going to distract me with the almost overwhelming urge to rub my knuckles on your scalp, brat.”

“Darn it.”

“Right. This may be a good starting point: you always see other people as things to solve, as problems that—”

“I know that,” I interrupt, my voice suddenly lacking all playfulness.

“You do?” And that’s not confusion on hers. More like… disaffected curiosity.

“Of course I do. I don’t call myself a ‘Monster of Logic’ just for the sheer chuuni.”

“Oh. That’s surprisingly self-aware.”

“I—”

“The chuuni part, I mean.” And now her face is right in front of mine, smug smirk fully on display.

I wonder if I can pull off the same tactic I just did with Iroha…

And she kisses me.

Soft, slow, languid, a rush of sensation effervescently traveling up my chest as the very tips of her fingers caress the side of my neck.

…

What was I thinking about again?

“Hachi…” she breathes the word right against my still wet mouth, and I almost whimper, “I love you. We love you,” and the words are still new enough my breath catches. “And loving someone means you don’t want to see them hurt. So, you understand how people act, how people are, but… you need to understand yourself.”

“Haruno—”

“Haruno’s been hurting for years, long before she met me. It’s not your fault, neither your responsibility.”

“But I have to—”

“You don’t. You don’t have to do anything. Nobody would think less of you if you didn’t.”

“That’s not true, everyone—” And Iroha turns my head.

She’s still flustered, her breathing still a bit ragged, but… Now her eyes burn for entirely different reasons.

“You think I lo—love you because of what you’ve done for me, Senpai?”

Out of balance, I nod.

“Well, you are right,” she nods, face deadly serious. “Because you’re gentle, and caring, and helped me without expecting anything, so I started to see you in a different light. That’s how it started.”

Which is… About as expected? I mean, it’s as basic a plot as you can get: the helpful senpai who inadvertently charms his junior by showing her his reliable side—

“It’s also how it almost ended,” she adds.

“What?”

“Do you know who’s helpful and always ready to do what I ask him to do without ever asking for anything in payment? Tobe. Tobe is. Kind and nice to a fault, always ready to lend a hand—”

“I will murder him—”

“You will do no such thing. Now, if you can not be an idiot for about five minutes, let me get to the point: I love your kindness. I hate the way you hurt yourself.”

And I remember the reproach on Yui and Yukino’s faces that night I confessed to Ebina, the absolute unfairness of it all, that they would attack me just after I—

“Look at me. Senpai, that night you stayed with me after I got rejected? It meant the world to me. It was enough to get me through the next few days. Every time you carried my bags for me? I could feel my heart melt a little bit. But… If it hadn’t been you, if it had been someone with a worse sense of humor, or slightly dumber, or who didn’t get me, understood who I was underneath…” her voice catches, “underneath. If it had been someone other than you, I would just remember it fondly. I’m not so shallow as to fall for someone just because they are kind to me.”

And she swallows, her eyes trying to get away from my own against all her struggles until she finally closes them. And then she continues with a shaky voice.

“I love you. Because it’s you. Because of who you are. Not because of what you do.”

And she crumbles against my chest, my arms and Shizu’s automatically going around her.

“You dumb, unfair, idiot Senpai.”

Still awestruck, almost in shock, I pat her hair, my palm effortlessly gliding over the silky, thin strands.

“Call me Hachi,” I say, almost as a reflex.

And she snorts.

***

We rest there, in silence, for quite a while, long enough that I think I should call home to say I may get there a bit late.

Completely worth it.

Because feeling them resting against me, feeling their warmth, their softness, their… trust… That’s not something I ever expected. The closest I have felt to this is being with Komachi, having her physical, tangible affection like I did yesterday. But Komachi is my sister, and her love is… Something that I don’t take for granted, but that I expect, that I feel is not unnatural. A sister should love her brother, even if just a little bit.

Iroha and Shizu… They don’t owe me anything. Iroha has made that clear enough.

And if they owed me something… They would love me in spite of it.

Which is quite a bewildering notion.

“I’m still going to help her, you know?”

And Shizu sighs.

“Of course you will. This wasn’t about that.”

“Then… What was it about?”

And Shizu and Iroha lift their heads from the spots of warmth they have left on my body and exchange a look, before nodding to one another.

Then they each grab one of my hands and pull me up before more or less dragging me to a closed door. That Shizu opens.

Beyond the door, there’s a glass cabinet displaying Gundam models and anime figurines, and a bookshelf with glass doors occupies a whole wall, filled top to bottom with manga volumes.

There’s also a big bed.

This is Shizu’s bedroom.

And there’s a tripod with a camera in the corner.

“I… I promised you I would be your first. I don’t want you to be obsessing about another woman when I… You know.” Shizu’s hand grasps mine so hard it almost hurts, and her voice wavers with every hesitant syllable.

“And you promised you would show me about… about sex, Senpai. Hachi.” Iroha’s palm is sweaty, and I’ve just discovered I don’t think that’s gross in the slightest.

“So… We know you won’t leave Haruno alone. But we want you to know it’s not something you owe anyone. That you can let go, that you can… Just be… with us. Without… Without needing to solve anything or earn our affection. You can just… Share. With us. With me.” Shizu’s head is turned down, her eyes stealing glances at me from beneath her wild bangs.

Something clenches in my chest at the same time as another thing relaxes for what feels like the first time in my life.

I pull on their hands and gather the both of them in my arms, the scent of their respective shampoos filling my head as I try not to tremble.

I am panicking, and at peace, and eager, and absolutely terrified.

Also, I reallyneed to call home and tell them I will be late.

Sorry, Komachi, it looks like your despicable brother is about to pile on more trauma on you. Please make sure to use this as the foundation for your ever-growing hate for the opposite sex.

But stay away from Yui. No lilies for you.