Shuichi had planned to swing by the flower shop, but An, the clingy little dummy, wouldn't let go of his arm, nagging him relentlessly.
With no way to shake her off, Shuichi finished breakfast and set out.
It wasn't a school day, and they'd just missed the morning rush. The three of them boarded the train, and there were exactly two seats available. Shuichi and Tsuki exchanged a glance, instantly on the same page.
"You two sit. I'll stand for a bit," Tsuki said coolly.
"Huh? Maybe I should stand instead," An offered politely. When it wasn't about food, she was always considerate.
"It's fine, you sit," Tsuki waved her off, gripping the pole tightly as if afraid of falling, her hands clenched.
Shuichi wasn't about to play humble with them. He plopped down in the seat by the pole, his hand casually slipping around the armrest, fiddling with the hem of Tsuki's skirt.
An hesitated but didn't protest further. Happily, she sat next to Shuichi, humming softly and leaning into him.
Tsuki's eyelid twitched, and she huffed, "Watch your image. Sit properly."
"Oh…" An shrank back, pouting, and behaved herself.
Shuichi watched the scene, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. One set of rules for her sister, another for herself… tsk tsk.
Kneading Tsuki's soft, smooth thighs, Shuichi said casually, "After we reserve our spots, let's hit the shopping center. Your pajamas are looking faded. I'll buy you both new sets."
"Huh? Really? I want something cute!" An's eyes lit up. A gift from Chiba-kun? That meant she could give him something back, right?
She knew this one!
She'd start learning to knit now and make him a handmade sweater for Christmas to confess her feelings—a classic TV trope!
"An, haven't I told you a million times not to accept gifts from guys?" Tsuki scolded sternly, all while subtly shifting closer to Shuichi.
The contrast between her serious expression and her sneaky movements made Shuichi's mischievous side flare up, his hand roughening its grip on her thigh.
"Chiba-kun's different…" An mumbled, not daring to argue loudly. She'd long seen through her sister.
Tsuki was always badmouthing Chiba-kun, yet she was constantly cozying up to him. Bad sister.
"The president should pick a set too. Akiyama-san takes such good care of me, so consider it a thank-you," Shuichi said, all polite and proper.
Despite his wandering hands, Tsuki's face betrayed nothing, her mask flawless—no surprise, given how long she'd hidden her peculiar kinks.
She replied icily, "Don't think this'll make me swoon. Your schemes for An won't work. I'll be watching you."
"Oh, really?" Shuichi found her untouchable act endlessly amusing, teasingly wiggling his fingers.
Tsuki bit her lip, her composure slipping. She turned her face away to hide from her sister.
A faint flush spread across her cheeks, her eyes growing glossy.
An, noticing, puffed out her cheeks and poked Shuichi's side, whispering, "When are you gonna punish Nee-san again? She's so annoying, always bad mouthing you when you're not like that."
"Badmouthing? It's fine. I'm big-hearted—I don't get mad," Shuichi whispered back, amused, rubbing his thumb and index finger together.
An nodded firmly, convinced. "See? Chiba-kun's so nice. Nee-san's got such a bad temper, and you don't even get upset."
Tsuki, catching her sister's gossip, "heartbrokenly" covered her mouth, trembling as if softly sobbing.
Time to switch trains. Shuichi withdrew his hand, casually wiping it on Tsuki's skirt, then got up with An to leave.
Tsuki trailed behind, alone, her steps unsteady.
*
Shibuya, a paradise for the young, was packed with shopping centers, trendy shops, cafés, and bars.
But for An, the foodie, no amount of fancy buildings or cute clothes could compare to the allure of delicious treats.
The trio first hit Champion Ramen to make reservations before heading out to shop. But they hadn't gone far before Shuichi was forced to buy the dummy girl a pile of snacks, even carrying them for her.
If he didn't, she'd just stand there, drooling at the food, impossible to budge.
"See why I don't take her shopping?" Tsuki groaned, rubbing her forehead. "Even Mom doesn't dare bring her grocery shopping, or nothing gets done."
"Your family runs a ramen shop. Has she never snuck ingredients?" Shuichi asked, chuckling as he watched An lick her ice cream cone.
The ice cream was melting fast, dripping down the cone. Unwilling to eat it too quickly, An frantically lapped at it with her pink tongue to catch the drips.
"You think she hasn't? When she was little, we had to drill it into her head not to sneak food from the shop without permission," Tsuki said, exasperated. "Back then, she'd eat anything—tomatoes, lettuce, carrots, raw fish, even tasting the soy sauce."
Shuichi was floored. That's some dedication. "Have you ever taken her to a doctor? Maybe there's something wrong with her?"
"We did. She's fine—just a glutton," Tsuki said, exhausted.
Shuichi wasn't big on shopping and wasn't familiar with Shibuya. An was even worse—not a true directionless case, but too food-obsessed to ever memorize routes.
So, Tsuki ended up leading the way.
They arrived at a shopping center that screamed affordable, then wound through it to a small shop selling women's pajamas and lingerie.
"I come here a lot. It's budget-friendly, and…" Tsuki paused, lowering her voice. "They're super lax about the changing rooms. I think it's intentional. You can often hear weird noises coming from them."
Shuichi raised an eyebrow. Damn, not only did she have a stash of digital "resources," but she also knew the physical hotspots? How did she still ace her studies with her mind on this stuff?
Impressive.
Inside the store, An took off like an unleashed husky, cheering and vanishing into the aisles.
Tsuki teased, "Bet the young master's imagining all sorts of things to do to his little maid in the changing room, huh?"
"Not at all," Shuichi said, rolling his eyes.
The pervert president bit her lip. "Deviant young master, always forcing the reluctant maid to beg for punishment. Such a creep!"
"Just say if you want it or not," Shuichi shot back, thinking, Reluctant? Who's the one sneaking bites every morning?
"Mmm…" Tsuki turned away, humming through her nose.
"Shameless, huh? Pick out some clothes first," Shuichi said, his gaze drifting to the scant fabric of the lingerie section.
Tsuki caught his drift and headed over.
In under two minutes, she returned with a white mesh camisole nightgown. Shuichi glanced at it—super sheer, super short, hiding nothing.
Holding it, Tsuki grabbed Shuichi and marched straight into a changing room.
They didn't even need to sneak—the staff didn't bat an eye, clearly turning a blind eye on purpose.
"Do your thing," Shuichi said with interest.
"Yes, young master~"
Tsuki licked her lips, hung the nightgown on the hook, and slowly began peeling off her usual uniform…
The full-length mirror dominated one wall, reflecting Tsuki's every move as she shed her uniform, her skirt sliding down her thighs to pool at her feet. The white mesh camisole hung on the hook, its sheer fabric a teasing promise of exposure. She stepped into it, the material clinging to her curves, barely concealing her hardened nipples or the soft outline of her body.
Shuichi leaned against the wall, his eyes dark with intent, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched her. Tsuki's fingers trembled slightly, betraying her arousal, but her gaze met his in the mirror—bold, challenging, and hungry.
"Face the mirror," He commanded, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down her spine.
Tsuki turned, her bare feet cool against the floor, her back to him. Shuichi closed the distance in a single step, his hands gripping her hips firmly. With a swift motion, he lifted her, her toes barely brushing the ground, her body pressed flush against his. The mirror captured it all—her flushed cheeks, her parted lips, and the heat in his steady gaze.
"Eyes on yourself," He growled, his breath hot against her ear. One hand slid down, fingers slipping under the hem of the camisole, finding the damp heat between her thighs. Tsuki gasped, her body jolting as his fingers brushed her clit, teasing her slick folds before sliding inside her.
"Masteerrr…" She moaned, her voice a raw mix of need and defiance, her hands gripping the mirror's edge to steady herself.
He didn't answer, his fingers curling inside her, pumping slowly, deliberately, as his thumb circled her clit. The mirror forced her to watch—her flushed face, her trembling thighs, the way her body arched into his touch. Shuichi's other arm wrapped around her waist, holding her up as her legs began to shake, his strength unyielding.
"You're so fucking wet," He murmured, his voice dripping with amusement as he quickened his pace, his fingers thrusting deeper, slick with her arousal. Tsuki's moans grew sharper, her hips bucking involuntarily against his hand, chasing the pressure building inside her.
The camisole rode up, exposing her fully, the sheer fabric catching the light and highlighting her curves. Her nipples strained against the material, and Shuichi's free hand moved up, pinching one through the mesh, drawing a choked cry from her. The thin walls of the changing room made every sound dangerous, the risk of An or the staff hearing only intensifying her desperation.
"Quiet," He teased, his lips brushing her neck as he added a third finger, stretching her, his thumb relentless on her clit. "Unless you want everyone to know what you are."
Tsuki's eyes flashed with defiance, but her body betrayed her, clenching around his fingers as her breaths turned ragged. "Noo…," She hissed, but the words dissolved into a whimper as he curled his fingers just right, hitting that spot that made her vision blur.
Her knuckles whitened on the mirror's edge, her body trembling as the pleasure built to a breaking point. Shuichi's grip tightened, holding her up as her legs gave out, her pussy pulsing around his fingers. With a final, deep thrust, she shattered, her orgasm crashing through her, a strangled moan escaping her lips as her body convulsed. Her juices coated his hand, dripping down her thighs, and the mirror reflected every second of her unraveling—her flushed, sweat-slicked skin, her glassy eyes, her trembling lips.
Shuichi didn't stop, his fingers slowing but still moving, drawing out every shudder until she was whimpering, oversensitive and spent. He lowered her gently, her feet finding the floor, though her legs wobbled beneath her. She leaned back against him, panting, her chest heaving under the sheer camisole.
He pulled his hand free, slick with her juice, and brought his fingers to her lips. "Clean it," He ordered, his voice calm but commanding. Tsuki glared but parted her lips, sucking his fingers clean, her tongue swirling around them as she held his gaze in the mirror.
"Good girl," He said, smirking, wiping his hand on the camisole before stepping back.
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