I was screaming.
Hands slick with red. Pipe clenched so tight it felt fused to my fingers. The android's face—her face—caved in under the blows. N3O-CHI, the prototype. The thing that came before me. The thing I couldn't stop hitting.
"You let them make you into this!" I shrieked. "I won't be next!"
Metal cracked. Wires split. But she didn't stop looking at me.
Her shattered eye blinked, twitching. Then her lips moved—
"Pon... you're just like me..."
"No I'm not!" I swung again, sobbing, trembling, my voice shrill with hatred.
"I'm not a doll—"
CRACK.
"I'm not you—"
CRACK.
"I'M NOT—!"
——
"—YOU!!!"
I lurched upright, gasping. My chest heaved, breath ragged and soaked in sweat. My jacket had ridden up—bare skin exposed to the cool air—and something soft was—
"Mmrrhhhnnn~ so warm… so smooth…"
My heart skipped.
"What the fu—?!"
My eyes shot down just in time to see Sakura's entire face nuzzled deep against my belly, like she was trying to absorb heat through her cheeks.
"SAKURA?!"
She blinked.
"Oh—AHHH!"
She flailed, flinging herself backward off the bed like a spring-loaded plush toy. Her legs went up. Her skirt flipped. Her voice hit a cartoonish octave as she landed in a squeaky heap on the floor.
"I—I can explain!" she cried from somewhere under a pile of stuffed animals. "You were sweating and mumbling about being a doll again and I thought maybe belly rubs would calm your nervous system!"
"WHAT. THE HELL. IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" I screamed, clutching my jacket down like it was armor.
Her head peeked up slowly from the floor, cheeks puffed, lips quivering. "You promised, remember?"
I froze.
"What?"
"That day. Before you snuck off with Korai." She stood slowly, dusting herself off, eyes a little too proud of herself for remembering. "I said if you ran off, I'd rub your belly the second you came home. That was the deal."
"I never agreed to that!!"
She blinked.
"But… you didn't say no either…"
"I was just trying to help out!!" I snapped. "That wasn't a yes! That wasn't a contract! You don't just get to—!"
My voice cracked.
Something inside me folded.
I staggered backward, eyes stinging, fists clenched at my sides. "You think this is funny? You think any of this is cute?"
"Pon…"
"I'm not your pet! I'm not your squishy doll! I'm—"
She froze.
The words had snapped out of me sharper than I meant, but I couldn't stop.
That damn dream kept echoing in my mind—N3O-CHI's cold voice telling me I was meant to be nothing more than a sex doll.
And Sakura… she was already using me like one.
Like a doll.
Like I wasn't even real....
Then her bottom lip trembled. "But… but I waited… all night… I was so worried…"
My heart thumped.
She sniffled. "I didn't know if you were dead, or worse..."
And then—tears. Her whole body hunched like she was collapsing in on herself.
"I just wanted to make sure you were okay…"
I stared, throat dry, rage draining fast.
Crap.
I really was being an asshole.
I left her alone. I didn't come back. I scared her half to death.
And now she was sobbing on the floor, tears streaming down her face, completely vulnerable and with no dignity left.
I sighed—long and tired—then slowly lifted my jacket again.
The fabric slipped off my skin, cool against my arms. A faint scent of worn leather and faint traces of my own sweat filled the small space between us.
Sakura blinked up at me, eyes wide and hopeful.
"…Pon?"
"You can rub it," I muttered, looking away, cheeks burning. "But just once. And nothing weird."
Her face lit up instantly. She dove back onto the bed with a soft thud, burying her warm, breathy face against my bare belly like it was a treasure.
The softness of her hair tickled my skin, a faint hint of shampoo and something sweet—like berries or candy—lingering in the strands.
Her breath was warm and gentle as she nuzzled deeper, her small hands pressing lightly against my sides.
"You're so soft and warm and marshmallowy~!" she whispered, voice muffled but full of joy.
I clenched my teeth.
The ticklish sensation made a strange noise slip from my throat—something I'd never admit to—and I yanked the jacket down over her face with a groan.
Now she was trapped under it, like some perverted ghost blanket. Her head wiggled and rubbed against my stomach, soft and insistent, like a cat claiming its territory.
And that's exactly when the door creaked open.
Juna appeared, mid-sentence.
"Hey, I suppose I should thank you for your assistan—ehhh?!"
She froze.
—though honestly, What kind of idiot just barges in like that?!
She stood in the doorway, wide-eyed, mouth open, then instantly slapped both hands over her face.
"PERVERTS!!" she shrieked, pointing an accusatory finger at the scene unfolding before her.
Her eyes darted between me—shirt half up, stomach exposed—and Sakura, completely hidden under my jacket with only muffled giggles and suspicious squirming to be heard.
Without missing a beat, Juna shrieked and chucked something toward the bed—a hairbrush? A shoe? A deadly compact mirror of judgment? Whatever it was, it bonked Sakura right in the head with a satisfying thunk.
"AH—!" Sakura yelped, ducking back under the jacket.
Juna bolted from the room, shrieking as she slammed the door. "You're all disgusting!! You're contagious!! I need BLEACH!!"
The silence that followed was thick with shame.
So much shame.
I groaned, dragging the jacket over my face even harder.
My dignity, already in pieces, now smoldered quietly in the corner.
Sakura, undeterred, rubbed her head where the brush hit… and immediately resumed rubbing her face into my belly like nothing happened.
"She didn't mean that," Sakura whispered happily, eyes closed in pure bliss. "She just doesn't understand our bond~"
"She just caught you face-first in my stomach under a jacket," I groaned. "Sakura, please. Stop talking."
She didn't.
She just hummed. And rubbed.
And I let her.
Because maybe… a small part of me was glad I wasn't alone.
Even if it meant losing the last shreds of my pride in the process.
✦ ✦ ✦