Orengeflame
patreon
Chapter 42 The Store Opens
🕑 Added 2025-05-18 02:06:09 +0000 UTCHyoudou Residence, Morning
The door creaked open.
Sunlight streamed into the familiar entryway as Issei and Yuuka stepped inside with the kind of guilt only two teenagers with something to hide could wear. Their clothes were perfectly adjusted, their hair recently washed, and they walked in like cats who had clearly knocked something off a shelf and hoped no one noticed.
Issei closed the door gently behind them, trying not to breathe too loudly. Yuuka hugged her small plush tightly to her chest.
For a brief, miraculous moment—silence.
Then:
“Where. Have. You. BEEN?!”
The shout hit them like a sonic boom.
Tamamo stormed into the hallway like a wrathful goddess descending from the heavens, her tails flaring behind her in agitation. Her ears twitched furiously, golden eyes glowing with the heat of a thousand suns. Behind her stood Miya, calm but radiating quiet menace. Karasuba leaned against the wall cleaning her blade with the patience of someone waiting for drama to explode. Yashima and Akitsu peeked out from around the corner with wide eyes.
Issei froze. Yuuka stiffened. They hadn’t even made it out of the entryway.
“G-Good morning?” Issei offered, voice cracking with dread.
Tamamo narrowed her eyes. “It’s almost 10. You two vanished. No messages and you blocked the connection between us! I couldn’t find you!”
Yuuka, still holding her plush, stepped forward and offered a small, confident smile.
“Maybe,” she said, voice laced with smug satisfaction, “that’s because I was busy winning.”
Tamamo blinked. “Winning what?”
Yuuka’s smile widened. “I got him. All. Night. Long. Alone. No interruptions.”
The air left the room.
Tamamo’s mouth dropped open. Matsu audibly gasped. Yashima let out a soft, shocked whimper. Even Miya blinked in momentary surprise.
“You… you slept with him?” Tamamo asked, her voice trembling somewhere between betrayal and a banshee wail.
Yuuka nodded proudly.
Issei, standing behind her, looked like he wanted to melt into the floor.
Tamamo’s fury ignited. “You little—!”
She lunged, but Miya stepped in, raising a hand like an angel of restraint.
“Enough.”
Tamamo scowled. “She stole him!”
Yuuka folded her arms. “It’s not my fault you wasted your night.”
Miya’s eyes turned sharply toward the two culprits. Her voice was calm—too calm. “Did you two…” she began slowly, “…use protection?”
The room stopped breathing.
“…Huh?” Issei blinked.
Yuuka tilted her head. “What?”
Miya's gaze sharpened. “Protection. Did. You. Use. Any?”
Tamamo’s ears twitched in stunned silence. Karasuba actually paused mid-polish. Akitsu blinked slowly, like she was calculating odds in her head.
Then the realization dawned on them all.
Issei and Yuuka looked at each other—eyes wide, faces pale.
“Shit.” Issei whispered.
Yuuka’s face went from smug to terrified in a heartbeat. “We forgot!”
“WHAT?!” Tamamo shrieked.
“I thought you brought some condoms!” Yuuka shouted at Issei, panicking.
“I didn’t know we were going to end up in a love hotel!” He cried.
“Don’t put this on me! You’re the guy! You’re supposed to have a plan!”
Karasuba finally broke her silence, flipping her blade onto her shoulder with a sigh. “Well, it’s not like screaming is going to make a baby not exist.”
Everyone turned to her at once.
She shrugged.
“Look. You’re both idiots. That’s a given. But we won’t know anything for a couple of weeks.” She gestured casually with her sword. “If she starts missing her period, then we panic.”
Yuuka dropped to her knees. “God, I hope I’m not pregnant…”
“I’m not ready to be a dad!” Issei howled, collapsing beside her. “I can’t even file taxes! I still get confused when I do math!”
“I’m not emotionally stable enough to raise a goldfish, let alone a baby!” Yuuka cried.
Tamamo clutched her heart like she'd been stabbed. “I was supposed to be his first!!”
Yashima dabbed her eyes. “It would have been beautiful if I was the one.”
“I want two.” Akitsu muttered under her breath.
Miya sighed deeply, rubbing her temples. “Well. If it happens… we’ll handle it.”
Issei shot to his feet, wide-eyed. “Don’t say that like you’re already shopping for baby clothes!”
“I’ll have clothes picked out just in case.” Miya replied serenely.
Issei fell back on the floor, face down. “This is a nightmare…”
The tension in the room was still thick with panic and accusations. Yuuka clutched her dog plush like a child clinging to a lifeboat in an emotional ocean. Tamamo alternated between pouting and muttering curses.
Rrrriiinnnng.
That’s when the sound of a phone split through the household silence.
Everyone froze, startled by the sound.
Miya reached over and picked up the house phone mounted on the hallway wall. “Hyoudou residence. Miya speaking.”
Her voice was serene, but her eyes narrowed slightly.
The voice on the other end was immediately recognizable.
“Miya! Finally! You’ve got to send backup—now.”
It was Misuki, her tone a chaotic blend of exhaustion and urgency. In the background, Miya could faintly hear the distant hum of customers, clattering hangers, and what sounded like Uzume mumbling something about burning all the dresses and moving to the wilderness.
“Is everything alright?” Miya asked smoothly.
“Define ‘alright.’ The store is finally open, and it’s packed. Turns out people really like the custom-made outfits by Uzume, not to mention just how cheap we’re selling them. But the problem is, Uzume ais currently indisposed curled up in a clothing rack. And Matsu is passed out at her workstation surrounded by half-assembled smartphones.”
Miya raised an eyebrow. “I see…”
“So unless I start selling clothes myself—while also managing orders, stock, customer service, and keeping watch that the customers don’t shoplift—I need more help. Unfortunately I don’t have the money to hire employees at the moment. Luckily I seem to recall living with plenty of beautiful and gorgeous women that would be perfect to help out and draw even more customers to the store courtesy of my son-in-law.”
Miya’s eyes flicked to the group in the living room—currently composed of supernaturally beautiful women sulking, brooding, and arguing over hypothetical children.
“I believe we can manage that.” Miya replied.
“Perfect. I’ll be expecting reinforcements within the hour. Oh, and remind them that they will have to wear something that sells the product and that they should be on their best behavior.”
The line disconnected.
Miya returned to the living room with a thoughtful expression.
“Well? Who was it?” Tamamo asked, still stewing with crossed arms and puffed cheeks.
“That was Misuki. She needs assistance at the store. Apparently Uzume’s clothes are seeing success, and the crowd is overwhelming. Matsu and Uzume are too exhausted to manage it all on their own.”
“Oh no,” Yashima said, concerned. “Poor Uzume…”
“Poor Matsu.” Akitsu added blankly.
“She’s requesting help from us.” Miya continued. “Specifically, those who can charm the customers, and not collapse after three hours on their feet.”
“Wait,” Issei mumbled from the floor. “You want us to go work retail?”
Tamamo sighed, her anger temporarily forgotten. “I suppose if I must grace the masses with my divine beauty to help this family’s financial situation, then as the perfect wife, I will.” She said, dramatically brushing back her hair and glaring at Yuuka who was cradling her stomach in worry. “But only because Misuki is a treasured member of this household.”
“I’ll help too,” Yashima added quickly. “Uzume and Matsu are our friends and they worked hard to open the store.”
“I’ll go.” Akitsu said without emotion, already standing.
All eyes turned to Karasuba, who had casually pulled a blanket over herself on the couch and was curling up like a cat in midwinter.
“Karasuba?” Miya asked.
Karasuba yawned without opening her eyes. “Pass. I'm going to take a nap. I've been out all night.”
“That’s your fault for being gone all night.” Tamamo muttered.
“Wait. Where did Karasuba go last night?” The boy and father asked, confused at where Karasuba had gone.
Karasuba smirked, ignoring her Ashikabi. “And I’m planning to sleep all afternoon. You all have fun.”
Miya gave a delicate sigh and turned back to the group. “Very well. The rest of us will prepare and leave shortly. Dress appropriately. You represent Misuki’s store and, by extension, this household.”
Issei finally stood up and rubbed his face. “Wait. Do I have to go? I’m not exactly handsome material.”
Miya gave him a faint smile. “Oh. But in my eyes, you're the most handsome of them all.”
Causing a faint blush on Issei that made him stutter.
Tamamo was already halfway to the hallway. “I’m picking my cutest outfit. No one’s outshining this fox.”
Yuuka stood, quietly brushing her hair behind her ear. “If I have to face customers… it’ll distract me from wondering if I’m growing a Hyoudou.”
Issei groaned again.
Karasuba gave a soft snore from the couch.
—---------------------------------------------
Downtown Kuoh – Outside Misuki’s Store
The sun shone brightly above Kuoh’s commercial district, but no light could rival the radiant anticipation of the dozens of women gathered outside a newly opened storefront. A long line of customers snaked around the sidewalk, made up almost entirely of fashionable young women and curious mothers buzzing with excitement.
The store's exterior had a sleek black-and-white theme, accented with vibrant pink banners. Over the wide glass entrance hung a gleaming, stylized sign written in bold Japanese kanji:
「天空龍企業」
Tenkūryū Kigyō —Sky Dragon Enterprise
The group of beautiful young women approaching the entrance slowed their pace simultaneously.
“…Tenkuryu Kigyo?” Tamamo repeated aloud tilting her head. “Sky Dragon Enterprise? Really?”
Yashima blinked. “It sounds very… dramatic.”
“It sounds like the name of an action movie production company.” Miya muttered, scanning the signage with a critical eye. “Not a boutique.”
“I think it’s cool,” Issei said with a grin as he jogged to catch up. “It’s kind of flashy but mysterious.”
“It’s Mom.” Yuuka deadpanned. “Of course she’d name her business something cheesy.”
As they approached the entrance, a few women in line started whispering.
“Hey, isn’t that… the girl with the pink hair from the other day?”
“Wait, and that’s Hyoudou! From school!” A highschool girl from Kouh said, as she was also skipping class to see the new store.
“Why are they cutting?!”
A sudden ripple of annoyance went through the line as several customers began to mutter their disapproval—crossed arms, narrowed eyes, and the subtle clench of shopping bags bristling with judgment.
Before a riot could break out, Miya stepped forward, calm as always, her miko oufit fluttering gently with the breeze.
“Pardon us,” She said with a gentle smile and a graceful bow. “We are not here to shop. We’re the additional staff Misuki-sama requested to help with the grand opening.”
Tamamo stepped beside her and offered her most radiant, dazzling smile. “Yes. We’re the saleswomen—and support.”
“And I’m just here for moral support.” Issei mumbled.
The tension among the waiting customers immediately softened. A few even lit up with excitement.
“Wait, they’re employees?!”
“They’re gorgeous!”
“I hope she’s helping me pick out something! Look at that woman with the pink hair so elegant!”
Miya gracefully ushered the group through the door as the customers stepped aside—more intrigued than angry now that they knew these weren’t line-cutters, but part of the reason the store had gained so much attention in the first place.
—--------------------------
Inside the Store – "Tenkūryū Kigyō"
The moment the group stepped inside, they were hit with the combined scent of fresh fabrics, subtle perfume, and light floral incense. The boutique’s interior was surprisingly stylish. It had a soft, modern aesthetic—white walls, warm lighting, and neat rows of beautifully arranged outfits: kimonos reimagined with a trendy edge, stylish jackets, fusion accessories, and clothing made for all body types.
Mannequins in striking poses wore Uzume’s creations—each outfit uniquely layered and surprisingly comfortable in design without sacrificing fashion.
Behind the register, Misuki stood like a queen in her element—wearing a fitted blazer and pencil skirt combo that screamed elegant CEO. Her hair was perfectly pinned, glasses perched on her nose, clipboard in hand. She looked up as they entered and gave a warm smile.
“You’re late,” She said.
“We got here as fast as we could.” Miya replied, bowing politely.
“I was about to start handing out bribes just to keep the crowd civil.” She turned to the group, eyes sweeping across the beautiful women she now had at her disposal. “But now… now we’re back in business.”
A moment passed.
Then, like a storm cloud rolling in, her expression shifted.
The clipboard was lowered.
The business smile was gone. Her eyes narrowed with the unmistakable glint of a mother who had just realized something wasn’t right. “…Wait,” Misuki said, her voice deceptively calm. “Why are you two here?”
The rest of the group went still, sensing incoming danger.
Misuki’s tone grew just slightly colder. “Yuuka. Issei. Shouldn’t you both be… at school?”
Issei straightened up instinctively, as if saluting a commanding officer. “W-We can explain—!”
But Tamamo was faster. She turned to Yuuka with the biggest, most innocent smile imaginable. “Well, Yuuka? Shouldn’t you be the one to tell your mother what you and Issei did last night?”
Yuuka groaned. “You’re enjoying this.”
“Immensely.”
Issei tried to shrink behind a clothing rack.
Misuki’s eye twitched. “What. Did. You. Both. Do?”
Yashima stepped forward nervously. “U-Um… We might have… stayed the night at a… love hotel and had unprotected sex.”
Misuki went still. The clipboard snapped in her hand from how hard she was squeezing it.
She turned to her daughter, who was now red from forehead to collarbone. “Yuuka.”
Yuuka didn’t look up. “Yes, Mother.”
“You skipped school,” she said in a level tone, “to spend the night at a love hotel. With a boy and now might even be pregnant.”
“…Yes, Mother.”
“My daughter.”
“Yes.”
A pause.
Then came a sigh. A long, drawn-out exhale of every emotion between fury, disappointment, exhaustion, and a surprising hint of resignation.
“We are going to have a very long talk about this after we close.” Misuki said, her voice returning to that cool CEO tone—but with unmistakable parental warning behind it. “For now… we have this store to manage.”
She turned to Miya, whose eyes sparkled with subdued amusement. “After this let’s go out drinking.”
“Of course,” Miya said with a bow.
Tamamo, now grinning, leaned toward Issei. “I hope you like awkward family dinners.”
Issei groaned again, hiding behind a display of scarves.
Yuuka muttered, “I regret everything.”
Misuki soon clapped her hands. “Tamamo, Yuuka—you’re on customer interaction. Smile. Be approachable. Yashima and Akitsu, you're helping in the changing room and bringing outfits. Miya, you’re watching the register. Uzume, Matsu, rest. You’ve done enough.”
Uzume flopped into the back corner like a noodle and gave a lazy thumbs-up.
“And me?” Issei asked, raising a hand.
Misuki adjusted her glasses with a smirk. “You? You’re gonna heal those two from their exhaustion.”
“Eh?”
She gestured toward the front display. “Take them to the second floor and just spend time. I kind of worked them to the bone and feeling a bit guilty.”
“I—Okay?” Issei slowly carried Matsu in a bridal carry and took her upstairs and then went to pick up Uzume, who quickly hugged him with full force and started cuddling up to him.
Misuki then turned back to the others. “Now let’s show Kuoh why Sky Dragon Enterprise is the future of fashion.”
Tamamo raised a brow. “I think that name sounds like a late-night anime.”
“And you are going to wear this dress with the deepest neckline because it will be our top seller. Hopefully this will attract some men to the store.” Misuki shot back smoothly.
Tamamo opened her mouth—then shut it. “…Fair.”
—--------------------------------
The front doors of the store swung open with flair, the little bell above chiming to signal the start of the day. The line of waiting customers surged forward like a wave, eyes wide with curiosity for fashion.
But what they weren’t prepared for was the visual assault that greeted them the moment they stepped in.
Standing proudly in a staggered line were the salesclerks of Sky Dragon Enterprise… and they were very beautiful.
Each of the girls had changed into tailored black-and-red professional clerk uniforms, customized to suit their personal styles and flair. Tight-fitting vests, elegant skirts with slits, sheer sleeves, and accent sashes.
Tamamo stood front and center, the vixen goddess positively glowing with charisma. Her low-cut uniform accentuated her already-dangerous charm.
“Welcome, ladies.” She said, voice a silken purr. “Are you ready to be transformed?”
A wave of gasps and whispered fangirling surged through the customers.
“Can she help me?! I want her!”
“I don’t care what it costs—just dress me, Queen!”
Tamamo basked in the attention, one hand on her hip, the other gesturing grandly to the racks behind her. “Then follow me and prepare to ascend into a new you~!”
—--------------------------------
Yuuka stood just off to the side of the main customer flow, positioned near a tastefully curated display of casual wear—cardigans, scarves, blouses, and skirts.
Her uniform was far more modest than the other girls’. A tailored black vest over a white blouse with embroidered silver cuffs, and a soft pearl brooch glinting gently near her collarbone. Her skirt flowed just past her knees, and the look as a whole gave her the aura of a quiet, stylish librarian or a thoughtful advisor.
And because of that, a small group of three customers—all soft-spoken, bookish girls wearing thick glasses and unsure expressions—slowly made their way toward her.
“Um…” One of the girls began, her voice barely audible over the background music. “Do you have anything that doesn’t show… too much skin?”
The other two nodded, shifting awkwardly, one gripping the strap of her backpack, the other holding a bulky sweater tightly around her frame.
Yuuka’s expression softened instantly.
She stepped forward and offered a small, warm smile, tilting her head just slightly as she met their eyes. “Of course.”
Yuuka gestured toward the mannequins behind her, dressed in elegant layers and pastel color palettes. “Fashion isn’t about revealing everything. It’s about showing who you are in a way that makes you feel confident—comfortable.”
She reached out and gently lifted a cream-colored blouse with a delicate floral trim. “This one’s one of my favorites. It’s soft, breathable, and pairs perfectly with a layered jacket for colder seasons.”
The girl who spoke first hesitated, then touched the fabric. “It’s really cute…”
Yuuka nodded. “It’s also light enough to keep you cool in the spring. Want to try it on?”
The three girls shared glances, then nodded eagerly.
Yuuka led them with calm authority toward the fitting room, talking quietly all the way. “We have a couple of neutral-toned jackets I think would suit your builds well. If you like longer sleeves, I’ve got a cardigan that adds elegance without hiding your shape.”
As the girls disappeared into the stalls, one of them peeked back out with a nervous laugh. “That thing you said earlier… about fashion showing who you are… that was really deep.”
Yuuka blinked, then smiled faintly. “It’s something I learned from someone close to me. I used to think I didn’t belong in the spotlight… but I’ve started to realize I don’t have to fight for attention to be valued.”
There was a brief silence.
Then the girl said, almost shyly, “You’d make a really good older sister.”
Yuuka turned away, trying not to let the compliment hit too hard, but her faint blush betrayed her pride.
She chuckled softly. “Thanks. I’ll take that as a compliment.”
When the girls emerged a few minutes later, dressed in new outfits that hugged their personalities more than their figures, they beamed. Not just from the clothes—but from the way Yuuka had made them feel.
“You look lovely,” she told each of them, genuinely. “If you like those, we can check out some accessories next.”
—-----------------------------
Yashima stood just outside the line of occupied dressing rooms, a clipboard clutched in both hands like a shield and her expression locked somewhere between anxious and earnest. Her hair, usually immaculately brushed, had a few strands falling loose. A fine sheen of stress glistened at her temple.
The boutique’s popularity had turned the fitting area into something akin to a battlefield.
“I-I’m sorry!” she squeaked as two teenage girls waved armfuls of clothing in front of her, demanding space. “That one’s still in use! Yes, I promise I’ll find you a room, j-just give me one second—!”
Behind her, the sliding door to a changing stall cracked open and a young woman leaned out, holding up a top.
“This one’s too tight around the shoulders—do you have it in a medium?”
“Ah! Y-Yes! I’ll get it right away!”
A girl behind her tugged her sleeve. “Miss clerk, I’ve been waiting fifteen minutes!”
“I-I know! I’m sorry, I just—ahh!”
She almost tripped over a pair of abandoned heels lying in the path between fitting rooms. Her clipboard clattered to the ground. As she knelt to retrieve it, a soft chorus of “Awww” echoed behind her.
“She’s so cute when she’s flustered!”
“Adorable!”
Yashima stood up, red-faced, clutching the clipboard like it might somehow absorb her embarrassment. “I-I really am trying my best…”
A mother of three with a sharp bob cut leaned in toward her. “Sweetheart, you look like you need some tea to calm down.”
“I—That would be wonderful, actually,” She admitted before remembering she was on shift. “I-I mean! I can get you a tea-toned dress! Right now!”
In the chaos, a young girl with a soft voice tugged on Yashima’s vest from the side. She looked no older than twelve and stood beside her older sister.
“Miss,” the girl said softly, “my sister’s shy and doesn’t want to come out of the room. Can you help her pick something?”
Yashima blinked, then knelt to eye level, offering a gentle smile. “Of course. I’ll help pick her something nice. Everyone deserves to walk out of here confident.”
The little girl beamed and led her toward the room.
Inside, Yashima knelt beside the stall, gently coaxing the nervous older sister through questions about her preferences—no pressure, no pushing, just kindness. Minutes later, the girl stepped out in a floral dress with a light cardigan, eyes wide at her own reflection.
“You look amazing,” Yashima said quietly. “If you smile, it’ll complete the look.”
And the girl did.
The crowd watching from nearby let out a soft, collective gasp of approval.
More customers began approaching the fitting room line, not with frustration, but with admiration.
“She’s so gentle,” someone whispered.
Yashima rubbed the back of her head, overwhelmed by the attention, and laughed nervously. “I-I’m just trying not to cry myself…”
—----------------------------
Away from the bustling energy of the main display floor, Akitsu stood beneath the soft lighting of the boutique’s fitting and alteration area. The space was quiet, focused, calm—a perfect reflection of its current steward.
Armed with a thin measuring tape around her neck and a small pin cushion strapped to her wrist like a gauntlet, Akitsu moved with quiet precision. Her hands were deft, her posture exact, and her gaze unfaltering. Each adjustment she made was purposeful and fast, almost mechanical in its accuracy.
A woman in her mid-forties stood on the platform before the mirrors, examining her reflection in a deep plum dress with a high collar and long sleeves. It was lovely, but the waist needed taking in.
Akitsu stepped beside her wordlessly, crouched, and in one smooth motion, tugged a few folds into place and secured them with temporary clips. The fabric now curved more naturally along the woman’s figure, subtly flattering her posture.
“You’re very… efficient,” the woman noted, watching Akitsu's movements through the mirror.
Akitsu nodded once. “Thank you.”
“You’re so professional,” the woman added with a smile. “I love it.”
Akitsu’s expression didn’t change. “I aim for precision.”
The woman chuckled. “It’s refreshing. Most of the other girls here are bubbly or overly enthusiastic.”
Akitsu’s hands paused. She blinked once.
“…I do not know how to be bubbly,” she admitted, tone perfectly neutral.
The customer laughed. “You don’t have to be. You’re perfect just like this.”
From the side, another woman—easily in her twenties—stepped forward shyly, holding a long velvet skirt in her arms. “Um, excuse me. Could you help me, too? The hem’s dragging a bit, but I really want to wear this tonight.”
Akitsu gave a small nod. “Come. Stand.”
As the second customer stepped onto the small raised platform, Akitsu kneeled again, lifting the fabric and adjusting it silently. Her movements were gentle yet firm, and she didn’t hesitate or fumble—each clip placed with the ease of someone who had done this a thousand times.
More customers began to drift over—ones who had been overwhelmed by Tamamo’s confident pitch or intimidated by the dressing room crowd. In contrast, Akitsu’s silent professionalism was a kind of sanctuary.
“I feel like she’s judging my posture with her mind.”
“She doesn’t smile, but she still makes me feel welcomed…”
One bold customer leaned forward and whispered to her, “Have you done this for long?”
Akitsu paused, then answered honestly: “No. Today is my first time.”
The woman’s eyes widened. “Seriously?! You’re pretty good.”
Akitsu blinked again.
“…Thank you,” she said softly.
Though her expression didn’t change, her movements grew just a fraction smoother, her pace slightly lighter—as if that one compliment had settled somewhere in her chest like a warm coal, quietly burning.
—----------------------------
Seated behind the boutique’s main counter, she moved with grace and precision, her hands folding receipts and sliding garments into crisp bags. The register chimed rhythmically under her touch, each transaction processed smoothly, each customer met with a smile so serene it made even the most anxious shopper relax.
“Three blouses and a fitted coat.” She said gently to the woman standing across from her.
The customer, a middle-aged mother with a child tugging at her sleeve, leaned in with a fascinated look on her face. “You’re far too graceful to be working here. ”
Miya chuckled, the sound like soft chimes in the wind. “I’m just a simple housewife.”
“Simple?” the woman laughed. “You’re terrifyingly composed.”
Miya inclined her head modestly. “In this chaos, someone must be.”
The register pinged as she passed the receipt with two hands, eyes warm. The child peeked over the counter, chewing on his fingers and staring up at her with wide eyes.
Miya looked down and offered a small wink.
The boy instantly hid behind his mother’s leg, peeking again with curiosity.
What would you recommend.” the woman added quickly, handing over her card without even checking the total.
Miya bowed slightly. “Then I’ll also recommend our limited-seasonal line of hand-stitched scarves—designed by our in-house seamstress, and very popular with children and elders alike.”
The mother beamed. “You’re good.”
“I’ve had practice,” Miya said, turning smoothly to the next guest.
Another woman approached the register, visibly nervous, hands fumbling with her phone.
“I-I was going to just browse,” she began, “but I saw you up here and—well—next thing I knew, I was trying on half the store.”
Miya gave a soft, knowing smile. “Sometimes the best purchases are the ones we never planned.”
Behind her, Tamamo could be heard laughing loudly, while Yashima squeaked in apology over something collapsing.
From the side, Misuki stood observing the floor with crossed arms, watching Miya work the register like a queen gracing her subjects. She exhaled, half-impressed, half-defeated.
“She’s outselling me without even trying.” Misuki muttered.
—------------------------------
The second floor of the store offered an oasis of calm. Which was the workshop for Uzume to make her clothes and Matsu’s lab.
Unlike the high-energy buzz of the main floor, this area was bathed in the afternoon light that filtered in through the curtains. The air was warm and still, the scent of fresh tea and soft cotton lingering in the background. Plush cushions were scattered across the floor, and a low, comfy couch dominated the room’s center.
Issei sat right in the middle of that couch, his arms outstretched in quiet surrender.
Uzume was sprawled over his lap like a content house cat—one arm draped across his chest, her cheek pressed against his side, and a lazy smile playing on her lips. She was humming a soft tune, something wordless and familiar, like a lullaby remembered from childhood. Her eyes were closed, but her smile made it clear: she was awake… and at peace.
Matsu, on the other side, leaned into his right shoulder, her head tilted so that her fluffy red hair tickled his neck. Her tablet, once buzzing with blinking graphs and security feeds, now lay facedown in her lap—abandoned in favor of warm proximity. Her eyes were half-lidded, body relaxed but clearly tuned into his presence.
“Do you girls need anything?” Issei asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper, careful not to disturb the tranquil silence.
Uzume gave a low, sleepy giggle, her fingers lightly curling around the hem of his shirt.
“You’re here,” she murmured. “That’s all I need.”
“Warm… safe…” Matsu added, her voice groggy. “Ideal for physical and emotional recovery…”
She nuzzled closer against him, her cheek pressing into his bicep. Issei felt her lips curve into a faint smile, even as her eyes remained closed.
He blinked, cheeks tinting slightly as he looked down at both women clinging to him like oversized plushies.
“Guess I’m being used as an emotional battery again,” he muttered.
“Yes,” both girls said in perfect sync, without moving.
Uzume let out a sleepy laugh and gently poked his side. “You're the only one that can motivate us to continue, hubby.”
Matsu added, “If it wasn't for you, I would already run away from this.”
He then rubbed the backs of the two girls with a sheepish grin. “So I’m basically just a power outlet for my tired Sekirei?”
“A handsome, loveable power outlet,” Uzume teased, lifting her head slightly to look at him with a grin. “And you’re warm. Like a human kotatsu.”
Issei gave a chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re both unbelievable.”
“And yet,” Matsu murmured, “you let us cling to you.”
He looked between them. “How could I not? You both look like you’ll break down if I move.”
Uzume gave a dramatic whimper. “Don’t jinx it! I just got comfortable.”
They sat there in silence again for a few minutes, the warmth of the sun and the muffled laughter from downstairs wrapping the trio in a soft, familial calm. Every once in a while, Uzume would shift slightly, adjusting her head or curling her legs beneath her. Matsu’s fingers twitched from time to time, like she was dreaming of typing.
Issei, for all his panic and confusion earlier in the day, felt a rare kind of serenity settle over him.
‘This… this isn’t bad.’ he thought. ‘But moments like this... make it all worth it.’
A quiet knock at the door broke the peace.
“Issei?” came Yashima’s voice, muffled through the frame. “Misuki said we’re closing in fifteen minutes.”
Uzume groaned.
Matsu pouted in her sleep.
Issei smiled faintly. “Time to get back to work.”
As he gently nudged them both upright, Uzume gave one last stretch, arms around his neck. “You’re carrying me downstairs.”
And I’m next.” Matsu mumbled. “It’s in your job description now.”
—------------------------------
Back downstairs, the store bustled like a festival. Laughter, compliments, and camera flashes filled the air. Tamamo winked at a group of college girls, causing one to faint. Yuuka adjusted a scarf with surprising tenderness on a nervous high schooler. Yashima balanced three outfits on her arms while taking notes. Akitsu returned from the fitting area, completely unruffled.
And Miya, behind the counter, calmly rang up another customer.
“Will that be all today?” she asked.
“No, I’ll take the boots too.” The girl said, dreamily.
By mid-afternoon, the line outside the boutique was still stretching down the block. “Tenkūryū Kigyō” had officially become the hottest topic for clothes in Kuoh.
And Misuki, standing just behind the curtain near the stockroom, allowed herself a rare smile as she watched her "staff" in action. ‘This is where my dreams will finally begin.’
—--------------------------
Closing Time, 8:00 PM
The store lights dimmed slightly as the sun finally dipped beyond the horizon. Outside, the once-bustling line of customers had long dispersed. The store, still faintly humming with soft ambient music, now felt more like a home than a business.
Inside, the girls had gathered in a semi-circle in the workshop space upstairs, tired but glowing with pride. Their uniforms were a little wrinkled, their makeup slightly faded, and their hair just the tiniest bit undone. But they were smiling out of a job well done.
Miya passed around a small tray of herbal tea and light snacks she’d brought from home.
At the center of the group stood Misuki, clipboard tucked under her arm, dressed as perfectly as she had been at the start of the day. She looked over her makeshift team with pride, her expression a rare mix of maternal warmth and shrewd business acumen.
“Everyone,” she began, “you did incredibly well today.”
Cheers, claps, and soft whoops rang out.
“Not only did we survive the opening rush, but we’ve established our store as the fashion hotspot of Kuoh City. Customers already want to come back. We’ve started a buzz that will keep growing—and it’s all thanks to your hard work.”
She walked over to a display rack and held up one of Uzume’s beautifully stitched coats, pointing to the Sekirei emblem neatly embroidered on the brand tag near the collar: a delicate, winged feather design wrapped in a soft spiral.
“This tag means more than branding. It’s identity. It tells every customer that these designs are made with heart, with hands, and with skill.” She turned, nodding respectfully to Uzume.
Uzume, still half-curled into Issei’s side, gave a sleepy thumbs-up. “Aw, you’re making me blush…”
“And now,” Misuki continued, “I’d like to show you what comes next.”
She gestured to Matsu, who stepped forward from the back room, wiping her glasses with her sleeve before revealing something beneath a silk-draped table.
“Ta-da,” Matsu said with a grin, yanking back the cover.
The girls leaned in as a sleek, glass display case came into view—inside rested six newly finished smartphones, each lined in metallic frames of various colors: black, gold, silver, blue, red, and white.
Each one gleamed under the soft lighting, bearing on the back a stylized winged dragon insignia, etched in silver over a circuit-like design that pulsed faintly with light.
“Whoa…” Issei muttered. “These look… amazing.”
“I call it the Dragon Wing Series,” Matsu said proudly, resting her hand against the glass. “Custom-built using fusion tech from 2020 and 2008. Durable, secure, and powered by a strong chargeable battery. Not to mention top-tier processing and a camera that could catch a fly mid-flight.”
“They’re really pretty.” Yuuka whispered, eyes sparkling.
“So phones that are smart?” Tamamo said with a tilt of her head confused but amazed. “We’re entering a new era.”
“They’re not just pretty,” Misuki added. “They’re practical. And I want them to spread.”
She reached into the case and pulled out the red and white phones. She handed them to Issei and Yuuka, respectively.
“You two will use them at school. Don’t do anything special—just be seen using them. Let your classmates take interest. Show off the features if anyone asks. That’ll do more for marketing than any ad campaign.”
Issei held his phone like it was made of gold. “You sure? Aren't these prototypes or something?”
“No,” Matsu said. “They’re fully functional and optimized. Just don’t drop them in lava or get run over by a truck.”
Yuuka turned hers over in her hands, admiring the sleek interface. “This is the most advanced thing I have ever owned.”
Misuki then pulled out two more phones, the silver and gold units.
“These are for Issei’s parents. Let them show them to their coworkers and friends. Subtle but effective promotion. If the adults like them, word will spread fast.”
“And the last two?” Miya asked.
Misuki tapped the final pair in the case—the black and blue phones. “These will remain in the store. One for our promotional displays, the other as a demo unit for customers to test.”
Tamamo raised her hand. “And the rest of us?”
Misuki smirked. “Once Matsu finishes building a larger batch, each of you will get your own. Trust me, this is only the beginning.”
The girls all glanced at one another, their tired faces lighting up at the thought.
“Wait…” Yashima raised a finger. “If the store’s main draw is fashion and now we’re pushing high-end tech—are we still a clothing store?”
“We’re going to become an enterprise,” Misuki said confidently. “Sky Dragon Enterprise. Clothing. Tech. Lifestyle. Power.”
Issei leaned into Yuuka and whispered, “...She’s scaring me a little.”
Yuuka smiled and squeezed his hand. “She's happy. Let her have this.”
Matsu beamed. “We’re going to revolutionize all markets.”
—-------------------------------------------
Hyoudou Residence – Late Evening
The front door opened to a warm glow and the comforting aroma of freshly cooked food.
Inside, the lights of the Hyoudou home. Miki and Gorou were already bustling around the dining table, having prepared a celebratory meal to welcome back their son and his ever-growing family.
“There you all are!” Miki beamed as she came forward, still in her apron. “Misuki told us the news. The store’s became the talk of the town!”
The entire group crowded around the small dining table—chatter, laughter, and tired sighs blending together as plates of teriyaki chicken, grilled vegetables, and freshly steamed rice were passed around. Even Karasuba took a seat this time, already chewing halfway through a skewer before she had finished sitting down.
Matsu and Uzume wolfed down three bowls like women possessed. “Now this is a reward,” Uzume sighed, patting her stomach.
After dinner and light cleanup, the group began to trickle upstairs.
“Okay, okay, I finally get to sleep and cuddle with my hubby!” Uzume declared, grabbing Issei’s hand before he could protest.
Matsu tugged at his other arm. “He promised he’d let us use him as a pillow all night.”
“I never—” Issei tried, but the two Sekirei were already dragging him upstairs.
Yashima hurried after them. “Wait! I want to cuddle too!”
Akitsu followed in silence.
Tamamo stood and stretched, yawning as her tails flared behind her. “Hmph. I suppose if they’re going to hog him, I’ll just have to take my place too.”
Miya only chuckled softly and brought up the rear, carrying extra blankets.
But just as Yuuka stood from her seat, Misuki’s hand gently caught her wrist.
“Yuuka,” she said, voice quiet but firm.
Yuuka froze.
“...Can we talk for a moment?”
The others glanced back briefly before disappearing up the stairs. The house quieted around them, the warmth of the kitchen now a little more focused, a little more serious.
Yuuka sat back down, biting her lower lip.
Misuki crossed her arms and gave her daughter a look—not angry, but full of disappointment laced with motherly concern.
“I didn’t want to bring this up after such a successful day,” she began, “but you left school. You disappeared for an entire night. And the first I hear of it is when the other girls tell me in the middle of the store.”
Yuuka kept her gaze on the floor. “I know…”
Misuki sighed, leaning back slightly. “I understand emotions run high. I was your age once. I also know what it means to be in love.”
Yuuka glanced up, surprised. “You don’t mean?”
Misuki smiled wryly. “Before I knew his true colors. I was quite blind to his faults and actually believed that he loved me back. Now I'm not saying Issei is going to take everything away from us and abandon us later.”
Yuuka's shoulders relaxed.
“But,” Misuki said firmly, “you’re still in school. You still have responsibilities. And you still need to think ahead. Skipping class to run off to a love hotel—without protection—was irresponsible.”
Yuuka flushed crimson. “I… I didn’t plan that! It just—happened…”
“That’s the problem,” Misuki said, her tone soft but unyielding. “You didn’t plan.”
A pause hung between them.
“I just didn’t want to be left behind,” Yuuka murmured. “Every new girl Issei brings is strong, beautiful, confident… I was afraid I’d lose my chance.”
Misuki reached out and cupped her daughter’s cheek gently.
“Yuuka. You don’t have to fight to be loved. Not by me. Not by him. But you do need to grow. Love isn’t a race. It’s a responsibility.”
Yuuka looked into her mother’s eyes and nodded slowly.
“I’ll be better,” she said. “I promise. I won’t let my feelings get the better of me again.”
Misuki’s sternness melted just slightly, replaced with a small, genuine smile. “Good. That’s all I ask.”
Then she leaned back, lifting her teacup. “Now go on. I’m sure he’s already buried under half of them.”
Yuuka stood, blinking rapidly to keep her eyes from watering, and gave her mother a quick bow before heading upstairs.
—-----------------------
Upstairs
By the time Yuuka entered the bedroom, Issei was already horizontal, looking utterly defeated but pleased at having naked girls around him. His arms were pinned by Uzume and Matsu, with Yashima curled at his feet, Akitsu on his other side, Tamamo nuzzled against his chest, and Karasuba taking up the corner like a lounging wolf.
Yuuka stood at the door, blinking.
“You saved me a spot?” she asked, voice teasing.
Tamamo lazily gestured to a sliver of open blanket. “If you can wedge yourself in, I guess you can get in.”
With a quiet giggle, Yuuka tiptoed over and nestled herself beside Issei, wrapping an arm around his waist.
Issei, nearly unconscious, murmured. “I wanted a harem but I never thought my body would be a pillow for the girls.”
“Because you are,” Matsu muttered sleepily.
Tamamo purred, “And we love you for it, darling.”
Yuuka rested her cheek against his shoulder and whispered just loud enough for him to hear, “Thank you… for not forgetting me.”
Issei smiled drowsily. “I never could.”
And just like that, surrounded by warmth, affection, and maybe a few elbows, the house fell into a peaceful sleep.
Finally done. Once again sorry this took so long. Please comment and tell me if I made any mistakes.
Comments
Galaxy Shard Star
Osiris no Tenkūryū
Orengeflame
That's what I thought when I wrote it. But I do wonder if I should add actual consequences.
salv369
Love the constant quality and it make sense they didn't have protection they just reckless teenager but he should know now. Wonder who will be next.
