(A/N: Maybe I'll start putting these annoying end of chapter notes at the beginning instead of the end, just to make sure everyone has to suffer.
Yo, I'm playing chess while y'all still playing checkers. It's all apart of the plan.
Yup, you can skip past this today.
But can you do it tomorrow? What about the day after that?
You ever heard of the Latin phrase 'Ad Nauseam', which directly translates to 'a sickening degree'.
That's basically what this is.
I can do this over... and over... and over... and over... until the sun sets and then I can do it over again.
It's your choice fellow reader, cough up those powerstones and this can all end!
If not... well, you know what to expect next chapter...)
"No way! Who's your mom!?" Aoba snapped, yanking me out of my daze.
Okay, yeah—that "Mom" hit hard. Addictive stuff.
"Then what do I call her? You're Natsuki-san," Miyagi said.
"You—uh…" Aoba fumbled.
"How about I call Natsuki-san 'Aoba-chan' and your mom 'Natsuki-san'?" he suggested.
Ooh, bold move—love it!
"Idiot, stop! That'll mix me up," Aoba groaned.
Idiot's you, Aoba! A guy offering to first-name you—why shoot it down!?
"Wow, Natsuki-san's so picky," he teased.
"Why's it my fault!?" she huffed.
Your fault, dumbass!
"Uh, then… can I get your mom's name?" he asked me.
"Oh, me? I'm Natsuki Suzuka—call me Suzuka," I said, slipping into my real tone.
"So, Natsuki-san's Aoba-chan, and Mom's Suzuka-san—works, right?" he grinned.
"'Chan'!? Quit screwing around—mmph!" Aoba started, but I cut in.
"Sounds good! A kid like you calling me by name? Keeps me young," I beamed.
"Suzuka-san's super youthful," he added.
"Heh, thanks." Flattery or not—best feeling ever, getting first-named by a cute young guy.
"Guess I'll head out for real now," he said.
It was nearing 4:30—shortest overtime ever. "Come back anytime," I chirped.
"Definitely, Suzuka-san. Aoba-chan—see ya," he said, tossing her a playful blown kiss.
First time seeing a guy do that, but damn, he pulled it off. Bold as hell in front of her mom, though.
"Mmph—mmph!?" Aoba flailed.
"Bye-bye," he waved, stepping out.
I let her go. "Mom!" she barked, glaring.
Yeah, she's pissed—but first: "Why'd you hide him from me?"
"Uh…" she stalled.
"Not a peep, even when I was in the hospital?"
"…He just transferred in recently," she mumbled.
New kid, huh? Fair—two years local, and I'd have heard of a face like that running this shop. Still, the real question:
"You into him?"
"…Not like that. But I don't hate him," she said, cheeks pink.
Smitten face, you liar—totally gone.
Ugh, so slow! "He's throwing himself at you—don't let him slip!"
"I-I get it, okay?" she muttered.
"You like hot guys, right?"
"…Yeah, I'm a girl," she admitted.
No woman hates a stud.
"I'll back you up—need me gone for a night, just say it!"
"…" She blushed harder. So green—I'm worried.
"If you don't want him, I'll—"
"What!? No way!" she yelped, then froze. "Uh…"
I grinned. Gotta jolt this coward into gear.
"Do it right, and he might be my step-son—and your kid's dad. Step up!"
"…Kid aside, marriage? No chance," she said.
…Huh? Kid aside!? She's in for it!
"Great, let's buy new bras—those goddess ones that slim you down!"
"Those are pricey!"
"Investment! What, you don't want 'em?"
"…I'm fine. He doesn't mind my chest anyway," she shrugged.
True—he didn't blink at it.
"Skip the bras then?"
"…No, I'll take 'em. Something… colorful," she muttered.
I smirked again. Oh, that angle? Not bad—solid play.
Fancy undies stretch a student's wallet, but the surprise factor's killer. Big boobs are a hurdle—gotta swing every trick.
"Alright, we'll shop after closing!"
"Uh, okay," she nodded.
"I'll grab some too. What's his vibe—red? Black?"
"Huh? Mom!?" she gawked.
I knew—I'd seen it. Two flashy pairs stashed deep in her drawer. Plain white or beige won't cut it for the big moment with him. Gotta wear 'em daily, and two's too flimsy a rotation.
"Leave it to me—week's worth, covered," I said.
"Th-Thanks," she murmured.
Hospital bills stung, but for my grandkid—and maybe a step-son?—no skimping.
"Hurry up, clean up, we're out! You hit the sink!"
"Okay," she agreed.
We rushed closing and hit the stores—first parent-daughter shopping in ages.