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With a heavy sense of reluctance, Hiroshi had no choice but to follow Asta to her private quarters.
Asta's bedroom was a sanctuary of soft pinks and girlish charm. Plush dolls of every conceivable shape and size were scattered across the floor, the bed, and her desk, giving the space a cozy, cluttered feel. Near the window stood a massive white telescope supported by a sturdy black tripod, its barrel as thick as a heavy artillery cannon.
While a thin layer of dust had settled on the rest of the room, the telescope was meticulously maintained—so clean it practically sparkled under the artificial lights.
In the corner, a small yellow dog wearing a custom-made sweater propped itself up on four short legs. Upon seeing the pair, it began wagging its tail with frantic joy, panting happily as it ran to greet them. This was Peppy, Asta's loyal pet.
"Come... come in," Asta said, her face turning a soft shade of crimson. She leaned over to pet Peppy, her voice carrying a hint of guilt. "Since I'm usually so busy, it might be... a bit of a mess..."
"That's why you need me, Station Master," Hiroshi replied.
The awkwardness on Asta's face flashed and vanished, replaced by a playful, tsundere pout. "Hmph. As long as you know. This is your chance to make up for those budget discrepancies, so make sure you perform well."
Though she spoke with a firm, authoritative tone, her heart was racing with a completely different set of thoughts. Hehe, this is the perfect excuse to spend more time with Hiroshi.
As she watched him, a scene unsuitable for a public station broadcast began to play in her mind. She imagined herself sitting regally in her chair, looking down at Hiroshi as he knelt before her. In her fantasy, she used her toe to tilt his chin up, her voice a seductive, threatening purr: "Brother Hiroshi, you don't want to lose this job, right?"
And Hiroshi, with teary eyes, would beg her: "I'll do anything, Sister Asta... please don't fire me..."
Hehehe... A silly, dazed smile spread across Asta's face. Or maybe... The fantasy shifted. She saw Hiroshi hugging her calves, pleading bitterly: "Sister Asta, I don't want to work hard anymore. Please take care of me! I want to be your kept man!"
"Pfft!" The image was too much; Asta couldn't hold back a sudden giggle. If only things could really be like that...
"I'll do my best, Station Master. Shall I begin then?"
Asta snapped back to reality, her cheeks flushing even darker. "Ah! Oh! Yes, go ahead!"
Hiroshi set to work. He knew how much Asta valued that astronomical telescope—a single scratch would likely result in him being "physically corrected" by the Security Department. He rolled up his sleeves and approached the task with the precision of a master artisan.
After a while, the three-bedroom apartment was transformed.
The metal floors were polished until they could reflect the stars outside.
The mountain of plush dolls was arranged in a perfect, orderly hierarchy.
Even Peppy had been given a full bath and a thorough grooming, leaving the dog's fur sparkling and fluffy.
As for the telescope, Hiroshi had been incredibly careful, using only soft tissues to clean the delicate lenses and the intricate gaps in the machinery.
Whew... finally done, Hiroshi thought, wiping sweat from his brow. He looked over at Asta. She was slumped at her desk, buried under a mountain of bills, IPC envelopes, and station reports. She looked utterly defeated, occasionally pinching the bridge of her nose and letting out a heavy, weary sigh.
Acting on instinct, Hiroshi stepped behind her and placed his soft, warm hands on her shoulders, beginning to knead the tension away.
"Hmm?" Asta turned her head, startled to find him so close. "Brother Hiroshi?"
"Yes," he whispered. "I can't help you process these documents, but I can at least do this. Do you... dislike it?"
"No, it's... quite comfortable," Asta replied, her eyes fluttering shut as she leaned into his touch. "Since you're being so proactive, I suppose I'll reluctantly accept."
His hands are so warm, she thought, her stiff muscles finally melting under his touch. He's so... considerate.
"By the way, Hiroshi, how is the cleaning going?"
"It's all finished, Station Master."
Asta rotated her neck—nearly ninety-five degrees in her surprise—to check the room. Seeing the immaculate space and a sparkling, fluffy Peppy, she was stunned. He did all this so beautifully in such a short time? His housekeeping skills are extraordinary.
Her mind drifted again. He's so virtuous. He would make a perfect husband... She began to imagine scenes of them watching the stars, bathing together, and eventually her wearing a white wedding dress with a small, growing bump... She quickly shook her head, rattling the thoughts away. What is wrong with me?!
Then, a sharp thought hit her. She looked up at him suspiciously. "Hiroshi, do you usually serve Madam Herta like this, too?"
"Ah? Yes..." Hiroshi responded honestly, thinking of his nightly massages for the Genius.
A flash of sharp dissatisfaction crossed Asta's face. She puffed out her chest and pointed a finger at him. "Then treat me as if I were Madam Herta right now. Serve me exactly as you serve her!"
I want to see exactly how you please her every night, Asta thought defiantly.
Hiroshi's eyes widened in pure terror. How can I do it exactly the same?! Most of those scenes are censored by the laws of space-time! They aren't even PG!
Seeing him hesitate, Asta leaned in, her eyes narrowing with a playful threat. "Hmm? What are you waiting for? Do you want me to tell Madam Herta about those material costs?"
"I... I understand..." Hiroshi whispered, his heart full of silent tears.
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