When the knocking came this time, Kitahara Sota didn't panic or despair like before. In fact, he barely felt anything.
Not that he thought this situation was normal, or that there was no need to avoid others.
It was just—he'd already gone through this twice before.
Once strange, twice familiar… by the third time, you just got used to it.
So much so that the instant Special Week had pounced on him, he'd vaguely had the premonition: most likely, someone's going to show up knocking this time too.
And when he heard that familiar sound, there wasn't panic or despair at all—only a weird sort of I knew it sigh.
He even started wondering whether he had some strange ability—that whenever something like this happened, it would automatically summon one of his Uma Musume to knock on the door.
But regardless of how calm or ironic he felt, Kitahara knew the situation was awkward.
Especially since this wasn't like the time with Agnes Tachyon—he couldn't just brush it off as an "experiment accident."
If the one outside discovered this… him being embarrassed was whatever, his skin was thick enough. But if word got back to Grass Wonder, then things would be a disaster…
And this time too, Eclipse—the low-presence Uma Musume forever spacing out—was still in the room. Just like last time, when the knocking came, she quietly shuffled toward the door to open it.
But Special Week wasn't Tachyon. The moment footsteps stopped outside, she'd already started panicking.
By the time the knocking came, she'd let go of Kitahara on her own, which gave him a chance to reach out and stop Eclipse from opening the door.
The "biting" was over.
But Kitahara knew very well—with their current state, there was no way they could fool an Uma Musume's sharp nose.
So he chose the tactic that hadn't worked last time: pretend no one was inside.
Special Week cooperated. Eclipse, once blocked, stayed silent.
Their steady stillness let Kitahara exhale. And outside, the silence seemed to give whoever it was pause—the knocking weakened, then faded.
And as it faded, his taut nerves slowly relaxed. Finally, success for once.
But the instant his guard lowered—
♪ "Ore no…" ♪
Kitahara turned his head like a machine—only to see Special Week scrambling, fumbling out her phone, then hurriedly hanging up the call.
Ding.
The sound of the call ending left the room in eerie silence.
And outside, hearing that hang-up tone… the Uma Musume made no other sound. Just stood quietly there. No knocking. No leaving.
Dead stillness.
Kitahara's eyes twitched as he glanced at Special Week—her panicked face, the phone screen showing the name "Grass".
Swallowing with some difficulty, he braced himself, walked over, and opened the door.
Clack.
And with that, the smiling Yamato Nadeshiko appeared before him.
Grass Wonder.
Before Kitahara could speak, her small nose twitched.
Her smiling eyes narrowed, then opened just a slit—glancing into the room at Special Week, then down at a certain part of Kitahara—before she said, calm as water:
"Did I interrupt something?"
"No, Grass Wonder, you… forget it, come inside first."
Though her look made his scalp crawl, Kitahara still let her in. He quickly explained what had just happened, then looked over at Special Week, sighed, helpless.
"So tell me, Special Week—what on earth were you thinking just now?"
She lowered her head, poking her fingers together, muttering:
"They always do it like that on TV… so I thought maybe Kitahara-san would like it too…"
TV…
Hearing that answer, Kitahara went completely numb.
Then launched into a lecture—explaining that TV shows weren't real, that such things were only for lovers, and that between them it wasn't possible, blah blah…
Through it all, Grass Wonder only kept her gentle smile, silently listening, not saying a word.
When the lecture ended, Kitahara sighed, then, with some difficulty, turned to her, bracing himself.
"Grass Wonder, what did you come to see me about…?"
"Some matters related to the Black Forest."
Still smiling, Grass Wonder glanced at Special Week once more before turning her calm gaze back to Kitahara.
"But because some of it involves confidential details—could I ask Trainer Kitahara to speak with me over there?"
She pointed toward the small single room that used to be Kitahara's, now occupied by Nice Nature and Eclipse.
Kitahara smelled trouble.
But since it had come to this, there was no escaping it. After hesitating, he agreed.
He rose, walked in, closed the door.
Click.
The crisp sound of Grass Wonder locking the door behind her.
Noticing that, Kitahara turned immediately, trying to explain.
"Uh, Grass Wonder, listen—this really was just an accid—"
Before he could finish, his arms were full.
To his surprise, Grass Wonder wasn't angry. She didn't scold, didn't strike, didn't even question. Instead, she walked calmly over, sat right down in his lap, facing him.
Her familiar tail-wrapping closeness twined around his arm again—only now, instead of less, it carried even more intimacy. Faintly, even a shimmer of excitement.
After sitting like that a moment, Grass Wonder lifted her face from his chest, speaking softly:
"It's all right. I believe you, Trainer Kitahara."
And seeing his still-unconvinced look, she hugged him tighter, continuing gently.
"I know how much you've done for me. And I know things just now were awkward. You didn't want me to misunderstand—that's why you acted that way, right?"
"So there's no need to be nervous. I don't doubt you. I really did come to discuss Black Forest matters. And going forward—I may need your help even more with such things…"
At that, Kitahara let out a small breath of relief.
But before it was fully released—her voice rose again.
"However…"
She tilted her head up, leaning close, her nose twitching, her eyes glinting strangely.
"I believe you, Trainer Kitahara. So I also hope you'll be honest with me. Tell me truthfully, in detail—what exactly just happened."
Meeting her serious gaze, Kitahara's face twitched.
After a silence, he chose to tell her everything.
He'd already given her a rough explanation earlier.
But because he'd wanted to be quick, to avoid her blowing up, he'd glossed over most of it—especially anything that might trigger her.
Now though, he spoke in detail.
Even the specifics of his and Special Week's "contact." Things he really didn't want to mention—but Grass Wonder pressed him, asking after the smallest movements.
And when she'd heard enough, she wrapped herself against him in the same posture Special Week had just used, gazing up at him, whispering:
"Is that so?"
Looking down at the small body nestled in his arms, feeling her warmth seep through the fabric, Kitahara's expression grew twisted.
"It is… but Grass Wonder, you—"
He never finished.
"Then… she did that to you, didn't she?"
"…She did."
He paused—then hurriedly added:
"But it was an accident! And just now, Special Week also said—"
His words broke off.
Because soft, slippery warmth had sealed his lips, sweetness spreading across his mouth.
Like Special Week, it was her first time—clumsy, but earnest.
Yet unlike Special Week—Grass Wonder's habits, the way she savored food, sipped tea—had made her tongue unusually flexible.
After only a short while, she adapted. And then, with far more agility than Special Week, she began "biting" at him.
And in her eyes, along with enjoyment, a flicker of excitement glimmered.
Kitahara's body still carried Special Week's taste—but bit by bit, with her every movement, Grass Wonder was overwriting it with her own.
Touching, twining, entangling.
Because the little room's walls were thin, she could clearly hear Special Week moving outside. That only sharpened the glint in her eyes.
She didn't reject that Special Week had kissed him.
Quite the opposite—when she smelled it on him at the door, she hadn't felt revulsion. She'd felt her heart quiver.
If it had been anyone else, she would have rejected it.
But because it was Special Week—when she caught that trace of her on him, the dark water inside her surged, spilling over, whispering to her: drown it all in my own scent.
*If something I like this much gets taken away—even by Special Week—it'll hurt, won't it?
And more than being taken outright… seeing it, having it, then losing it in front of her eyes—that will hurt even more, won't it?*
Thinking so, Grass Wonder pressed harder, even deliberately making more sound, enough that the noises reached the outer room.
Just as she expected—Special Week's movements outside grew restless, frustrated.
Grass Wonder knew she was wrong. Even by ordinary standards, let alone as a Yamato Nadeshiko, this was far too much. She knew it betrayed Special Week.
But she couldn't stop.
Memories came—nights of being overlooked, dismissed, treated like a roadside weed.
And yet now—
The one who'd once been ignored—was stealing what Special Week held most dear.
The thought of her reaction when she realized—that made Grass Wonder's heart tremble even harder.
And more than that—it was Kitahara who had seen her, valued her, given her things she'd never had no matter how hard she tried.
She knew this was wrong. Her reason told her to stop. Even her feelings protested.
But the more reason pulled, the less she could stop.
Something inside trembled strangely, more and more, until she couldn't let go—until she was clinging greedily to the warmth in her arms.
Something must have broken somewhere, she thought.
Normally—even if shaken, she could restrain herself with her will, and correct herself little by little.
But now—feeling the heat of him—she couldn't restrain or correct anything. As time passed, darker thoughts began to bloom.
It was Trainer Kitahara who made me like this, wasn't it?
So… isn't it natural to make him take responsibility?
At last, she let him go—looked up at him, smiling.
"In that case… I suppose I've tasted Special Week too, haven't I?"
"You—"
Kitahara started, but she pressed a finger to his lips, cutting him off.
"Even if it was an accident, it's still your fault, isn't it? Isn't a little punishment for betraying me only fair?"
Then, without missing a beat, she pulled out the files she'd brought, still seated in his lap, flipping through them as though nothing had happened. Her words quickly shifted his focus to work.
Later, after finishing their talk on the Black Forest—just as she'd predicted—Kitahara didn't dwell on what had happened, his mind already absorbed by the work.
When it ended, Grass Wonder walked out with him, smiling, and sat down next to Special Week—whose face was dark with stormclouds.
"Grass…"
Special Week's voice was low, trembling with suppressed fury.
"What… did you just do to Kitahara-san?"
Grass Wonder glanced at Kitahara—already fully sunk into work mode—then leaned close to Special Week's ear, her breath warm, her scent heavy with Kitahara.
"Nothing much. Just the same as what you did. Only a little longer. And a little deeper."
Her whisper curved like a smile.
"After all… Trainer Kitahara tastes wonderful, doesn't he?"
Silence stretched. Special Week's knuckles whitened, her voice rough with rage, pressing up from her throat.
"Grass. Wonder."