Rest Day Mishap
"I don't need you fuckin' cleaning up after me like some overbearing mother! You don't even have the birthing hips needed to be a mom compared to my perfectly shapely hips!"
Iruma's laughter echoed, rolling over her tongue as spit shot past her teeth. Tojo glanced down at her tie, noting saliva specks staining her attire. She procured a handkerchief from her pocket, quickly scrubbing out Iruma's spittle and discarding the tissue into a nearby trash can.
Tojo took a sweeping glance around Iruma's lab. Like she assumed, it was a sanctuary for robotic pigs. With unfinished prototypes, gears, and other assorted metals lining the corners of Iruma's room, Tojo wondered when was the last time Iruma decided to clean. Her hunch had been proven correct when she spotted iruma's laundry bin filled to the brim with dirty clothing, and to her surprise, she spotted faint splotches of wax clinging to the fabric. Assorted candy wrappers and old containers of junk food littered the floor as well, permeating with the stench of oil and smoke.
Iruma caught Tojo's gaze. Scoffing, she crossed her arms and remarked, "Ain't that bad. I was gonna clean all this shit up, but I was too busy building my latest and greatest invention."
"And what might that be?" Tojo asked, clasping her hands in front of her waist.
Iruma smirked, flicking her thumb against her nose. "That's a secret! Now, move your ass outta here! My golden brain cells are tingling to get back to the grindstone!"
Following the tip of Iruma's finger to her door, Tojo sighed and shook her head. "I'm afraid that I cannot acknowledge that request. Your living quarters are really unhealthy, Iruma-san."
Iruma grimaced, playing with a few tresses of her hair. She gnawed on her lower lip. Her brow furrowed as she attempted to come up with a proper excuse. She knew she should have been cleaning up after herself, but when she was struck with inspiration for her newest idea, she immersed herself entirely in her work.
"B-but, um, I really, really gotta finish this up. It's s-super important," Iruma mumbled, fiddling with the hem of her shirt.
Tojo smiled, an idea popping up in her head. "If you'd like, then you may continue to create whatever it is you are making, and I'll clean up. I'll clean in silence so I don't disturb your golden brain cells at work."
Heat tickled Iruma's cheeks as she mulled over Tojo's idea. She jerked her head at the corners of her room, her hands curling into fists as her regular confidence returned. Iruma pivoted, her heels stomping through litter and leftover equipment as she stormed over to her workbench. Wrenching out her metallic chair, she slammed down into it and smirked. She tore off a wool blanket from her desk and launched it over her shoulder.
"Fine! You can be a busybody bitch and clean! Just don't make a peep, got it?" Iruma barked, her toothy sneer stretching into her cheeks.
Satisfied with the outcome, Tojo nodded. She announced she would be returning with her cleaning supplies and promptly left Iruma's lab.
Iruma listened to her doors slide open and slam shut. Heaving out a breath, Iruma scratched her head and wondered how to continue. She gazed down at her standing creation, her finger beating her skull like a drum beat. She had hoped to finish her invention before Tojo lightly reprimanded her for keeping her lab in rather dismal conditions. If Iruma had, then she would never have to worry about cleaning ever again.
Yet, that led to another problem. Iruma already had data on Tojo's cleaning skills. From the small scanners she placed in dusty areas of the school, she managed to capture Tojo's ultimate prowess. Real time data proved to be absolutely valuable for her creation, but with that in mind, she realized she did not exactly need Tojo's current help if everything went according to her hypothesis.
As her doors opened, Iruma thrust the blanket onto her creation and and shouted, "Hey! Go the hell away! I changed my mind!"
Tojo's eyes widened, and she gripped her broom, white knuckles burning against her skin. She relaxed, her shoulders lowering, and she counted to five as Iruma snapped at her to "GTFO back to the kitchen."
"If I may I retort, then I really think I should help you, Iruma-san," Tojo replied like a mother speaking to a rowdy child.
Clenching her fists, Iruma jeered, "Go take a break, maid fetish, but if you wanna stick around, then feast your eyes on my latest invention! It might be in alpha stages of development, but it'll kick your ass in the cleaning department!"
Iruma slapped off the blanket, watching Tojo's confused expression warp into gawking shock. Breaking into a gale storm of laughter, Iruma jabbed her hands at her invention. Pride swelled in her chest.
Before them was a perfect replica of Tojo in a metallic casing. From the robot's lace frills of her headband down to the threaded bows of her shoes, Tojo felt like she was staring in a mirror. If only the gray metal skin, which she assumed was some kind of silicon plaster, was the right color, then she might have assumed she had a doppelganger.
"Meet my soon-to-be-patented Maidbot! A classic kink wrapped up in a durable metal casing," Iruma announced, wrapping her arm around her Maidbot. "I've nicknamed this prototype Tojobot since I modeled her after you."
Tojo went to reply, her lips parting, but Iruma was faster. From her cleavage, she wrenched out a remote control and slammed her thumb on the start button. Tojo took a few tentative steps forward with her cart, beginning to ask why Iruma would go through the trouble of making a robot when Tojobot's elbow slammed into Iruma's stomach.
Iruma gagged, chomping down on her tongue and stifling her own shriek. Spit burst out of her mouth as she was knocked into her table, collapsing with the blanket quickly covering her body. Metal gears dug into her skin, and she shrieked, her eyes bulging in pain as Tojobot leered down at her.
"Iruma-san!" Tojo shouted, swiftly leaping into action.
Tojo held her broom like a blade. She darted towards Tojobot as it cast it's emerald glare in her direction. Tojobot rushed for her, hands appearing like claws as it swung for her throat. Tojo ducked, positioning her broom for the handle to face upwards. With a quick jab, she penetrated the handle through Tojobot's neck.
Sparks burst like small fireworks from the opening in Tojobot's neck. Tojo heaved a breath, pressing her foot against the robot's chest and kicking off. Eyes rolling back into it's head, Tojobot teetered backwards and collapsed with a thud that echoed throughout Iruma's lab.
Tossing her broom aside, Tojo hurried to Iruma's side. She knelt by her, gathering the shocked inventor in her arms. She brushed Iruma's bangs out of her eyes and asked if she was okay.
Feeling like she was in the arms of her guardian angel, Iruma sputtered, her spit hitting Tojo's face. She shook her head, which Tojo took as a sign of distress and announced she would take Iruma to the infirmary.
"N-no! That's not, uh, that's not it!" Iruma blurted, sitting upright and scooting out of Tojo's grasp. Rubbing her stomach, she groaned, "Dumbass fuckin' machine. Ya give it life, and it tries to take yours."
"I'm glad you're acting like yourself," Tojo said, and she uttered a sigh. Surveying Tojobot's inactive frame, she added, "I'd also like to know why you created that...being."
Wincing, Iruma played with her hair and glanced at her fallen table. She collected two gears, hitting them together and watching them spin, The swirls calmed her as Tojo rubbed her back.
"It was supposed to be a surprise, y'know? Give you a break from all that shit you do," Iruma admitted, and Tojo hummed, her eyes wide. Huffing, Iruma chucked the gears at her failed creation. "What a fuck-up! I couldn't even get the alpha programming right."
"You are not a…" Tojo pressed her hand to her lips and cleared her throat. Setting her free hand on Iruma's shoulder, she smiled. "You know, you're not that. I prefer to work for everyone, but I appreciate you looking after me. If you'd like to give me break, then perhaps you could help me clean your room?"
Iruma's lips quirked into a weary grin. "Yeah, yeah, sure. I guess that's the least I can do for making you battle my first Maidbot."
"Also, are you injured? That strike looked quite painful." Tojo touched Iruma's stomach, earning a hiss in return. "It must have bruised. Let's take a look at it."
Frowning, Iruma rolled up her shirt and allowed Tojo to inspect the violet swelling spreading across her belly. Like dots, red marks rimmed the edges of the injury. Tojo narrowed her gaze on Iruma's wound, hearing her grumble that it was her own fault.
"You don't have to belittle yourself. There was no way for you to have known your creation would rebel," Tojo replied, tugging Iruma's shirt down and fixed her leather straps. Helping Iruma stand, she smoothed the fabric's creases and clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth.
"Oh, I get it," Iruma suddenly purred, her eyes glazing over.
Tojo tilted her head, asking, "What do you get?"
"This is the part where we totally make out, right?" Iruma teased, leaning against Tojo. She laced her arms around Tojo's firm back, drinking in the warm blood pooling in Tojo's face. "I mean, you're like my heroine right now. You deserve some kind of...reward for helping me out in a real pinch."
"Your forward appreciation is unnecessary," Tojo began, but at Iruma's fluttering lashes, her lips pressed outwards into a thin smile, "but I suppose it wouldn't hurt."
Iruma captured Tojo's lips, eagerly leaning against her. She closed her eyes, melting into Tojo's strong embrace and savoring the moment, mesmerized by the softness of Tojo's mouth. She felt Tojo dip her, her hair trailing towards the floor as Tojo's curls caressed her cheeks. Their fingers laced together, making Iruma feel like she was a princess right out of a storybook.
Tojo parted, heat still present in her cheeks as she asked, "Was that satisfactory?"
Iruma hummed as if pondering an idea before smirking. "Nah! I ain't done yet! One more time, baby!"
Tojo chuckled. "As you wish, Iruma-san."