The sudden "prince" remark threw me for a loop.
I clutched the fraying thread of my composure and addressed the busty woman.
"No. A prince? That doesn't make any—"
She seized my hand, shook her head vigorously, and locked eyes with me.
"Because you saved me. You're my prince."
"So what the hell are you—"
I wanted to demand what nonsense she was spewing, but the words caught in my throat.
'Wait. Her eyes?'
In that fleeting glance, I glimpsed a profound, unsettling madness.
It wasn't mere affection or admiration for another person.
'It's like she's eyeing a plastic model kit.'
A gaze brimming with the urge to dismantle everything before her, dissect it thoroughly, and piece it back together.
The eerie chill left me speechless.
Then, abruptly, she declared,
"Let's go together."
I snapped back and tried to refuse, but it was too late.
"Huh?"
She closed the distance, hoisted me up by the armpits, and lifted me clean off the ground.
My feet dangled helplessly.
In the grasp of this busty woman.
'Is this even possible?'
I'm shorter than most adults, sure, but still over 160 cm with a decent build for a guy. How could she lift me so effortlessly?
And she was a woman.
Curious, I gauged her height.
'At least 190… maybe pushing 200?'
She towered far beyond what I'd estimated.
That strength must stem from her massive frame and the muscles honed to support it.
'So those enormous tits aren't just decorative, huh?'
As that crude thought flickered through my mind, Takuya spoke up.
"Where are you taking me?"
The suddenness startled him, but he didn't struggle or protest the carry.
He sensed her mental instability.
'Provoking someone like this only escalates things.'
And in this position, it could turn downright dangerous.
He'd learned that in the military. No need for details.
That's why he chose caution.
While those thoughts raced, she answered.
"To my house."
"House?"
"Yeah."
We'd just met, and she was inviting me home already. My inner traditionalist bristled, but I knew I'd lose a fight, so I went along quietly.
Squish~♥
It absolutely wasn't because of the plush press of her breasts against my back.
"Well, before we go, let's introduce ourselves. I'm Mori Takuya. And you?"
"Suzuki Haruka (鈴木 春華)."
"Got it. Suzuki, let's hurry then."
"Haruka."
"Huh?"
"Call me Haruka."
"Fine."
And so began my bizarre trek with the busty woman—no, Haruka.
How long had Haruka been carrying me?
We stopped before a house with a nameplate reading Suzuki (鈴木家).
She'd hauled me for tens of minutes without a hint of fatigue.
Anyway, upon arrival, I said,
"This it?"
"Yeah."
"Then put me down. I should at least stand when I greet your family."
"Okay."
Earlier, my pleas to be set down had earned a firm "No." But now, she complied without protest.
'Is she dim, or sharp…?'
Muttering inwardly, I scanned for the doorbell near the entrance.
"Press here."
"Ah. Thanks."
Ding-dong.
With her guidance, I rang it and waited.
Soon, sounds of shuffling came from inside.
[Just a moment~]
They likely mistook me for a delivery.
The door opened, revealing a middle-aged woman.
"The stamp goes here… oh? Haruka? And… who's this?"
I bowed politely.
"Hello. I'm Mori Takuya. I was passing by when I spotted Haruka-san and wanted to explain the situation."
I avoided mentioning her daughter had essentially abducted me.
Haruka's mother enveloped her filthy daughter in a hug without a second thought.
"What?! What happened to our Haruka?!"
The sheer love in her worry was palpable.
I didn't want apologies from someone fretting over her massive, dirt-streaked child like that.
Besides, I was half-intrigued by Haruka and had come willingly.
With that in mind, I told her mother,
"I'll explain inside."
"Ah! Yes, yes. Come in."
Once settled with tea, I detailed the incident.
"Haruka nearly got hit by a car?!"
"Yes. The driver was reckless."
"Oh goodness…"
She bowed deeply in gratitude.
"Truly… thank you so much…!"
"No, it was the right thing."
I meant it.
From my view, it was.
"Thank you…"
She continued expressing thanks for some time.
Once things warmed up, she shared something intriguing.
"As you can see, my daughter has a mental disability."
"A mental disability?"
"Yes…"
She broached it delicately.
Her explanation left me stunned.
It was a condition I knew well.
"The doctor calls it Asperger's syndrome."
Asperger's. The very syndrome linked to Isaac Newton, Nikola Tesla, and Elon Musk.
I asked, wide-eyed,
"If it's Asperger's, isn't that what Newton and Tesla had?"
"You know of it?"
"Just a bit."
Relief washed over her face.
Explaining Haruka's condition must have been tough for her.
It explained Haruka's odd behavior.
Those with Asperger's often fixate intensely on interests.
"I saw her watching ants for ages. Is that her thing?"
"No. She just enjoys observing…"
Simple observation, then…
'Hold on. If ants are mere observation, what's her real passion?'
Curious, I asked,
"Is there a specific field she's into?"
"Ah. That would be…"
Before she could finish,
"I'll show you myself."
Haruka rose abruptly and addressed me.
Her mother nodded, agreeing it was better.
Why not just tell me?
It didn't matter. I followed obediently.
The room we entered was spacious, tucked in a corner.
What greeted me was shocking.
"Huh…"
Dozens of gutted computers littered the space, and…
'Is she assembling a supercomputer?'
A colossal machine dominated, seemingly designed to house all those salvaged parts.
To a layperson, it might look monstrous, but I—from the future, with some tech knowledge—recognized it.
Not just a PC, but a supercomputer in the making.
Or intended as one.
Seeing it, I was half-convinced.
'Haruka is the talent I need.'
She was exactly the expert I required right now.