LCIH: Here's the second installement! Hope it meets your standards~! And please, no flames~!

He wasn't sure whether or not he should do it. Spying on a girl? On (y/n)? Wasn't there a term for a male who spied on a female? It was something like Tom Peeping. Or maybe the expression was Tom Love to Peep…

But spying on a girl. That was bad. If he was caught, he would hear no end of it, and he would likely be arrested…

But Yamamoto was no Tom. And he didn't like to peep. So in that sense, it was all right.

The other thing was that if he refused to go, Gokudera would blow him up. Mukuro would possess his dead body and use it as a puppet for his evil biddings. Yamamoto wasn't sure how he felt about bombs exploding his body and a dual-eyed trickster controlling his corpse.

So he had to go. If he wanted to become a true man, he had to go. It was the only way for him to lose his innocence.

Wait. Weren't there other ways?

In the end, Yamamoto worked up enough nerve to race on over to (y/n)'s house. He knew where it was. It was on the same route as his (and no, he didn't stalk her home, where did that come from?). It was a pretty little house, with only two stories, and as he cautiously rounded the house, he saw that only one of the windows was open with light spilling out. Steam drifted out gently, hanging in the slight breeze.

True to Mukuro's word, there was a conveniently-placed rose bush right in front of the window. Seeing as it was the only window with a bush placed before it, Yamamoto darted on over there, sliding into the brambles like he was sliding into home base.

"Why am I even doing this?" he asked himself as he wrestled with the brambles, pushing them away. "If she sees me here, I'm dead…" He was lucky the sun had started to set. Twilight's fingers bled across the sky, crimson and purple and beautiful. Stars were beginning to show. It was a picturesque sky and Yamamoto gazed at it for a moment, reveling in its beauty.

Then he heard the soft sound of singing.

It startled him and Yamamoto jolted straight up in the bush. He hit his head on the windowsill. "Ow, jeez," he muttered, holding his aching forehead tenderly. Once the pain cleared his vision, he leaned close to the window and peered in through the glass.

He was surprised to find that it was a room. With its (f/c) walls and big, fluffy bed covered in pillows and stuffed animals and its posters of handsome actors everywhere, it was undoubtedly a girl's room.

"Cute," he said, smiling. So this was (y/n)'s room. He had somehow expected it to look like this. Sure, she didn't talk much in school—well, what would he know? He only shared math with her—but this suited his vision of her.

There was another room adjacent to hers and he could see the door, not so far away from where he hid. Tendrils of steam spiraled outward from the open door and he could just make out the outline of a bathtub, white and fancy and made of marble. It was the bathroom.

Was (y/n) in there? He couldn't tell. Furrowing his brow, Yamamoto squinted in concentration—

Then he saw her enter her room, a towel draped over one arm. She walked over to her bed and spread out the towel on the bed sheets, folding it perfectly. As she did this, she continued to sing, and though Yamamoto couldn't decipher the words, he thought her singing voice was pretty. High and clear and strong. Like an angel.

This is your last chance to back out, Yamamoto Takeshi. There will be no turning back once she starts taking off her clothes.

Dry-voiced thoughts ran through his brain and Yamamoto recognized the voice but he was alarmed. Mukuro was talking in his head? Had he already started to possess his body?

"Oh, I get it," he mumbled, half to himself. "Gokudera blew me up and now you're taking my soul, right, Mukuro?"

What? No. Unless you want me to, Yamamoto Takeshi. Your body is absolutely divine. So strong and in shape. I could get many things done with your body…but Sawada Tsunayoshi is my first priority. You will have to wait.

"Uh, sure." Yamamoto decided not to question why Mukuro was currently in his head. It was better if he didn't, it seemed. So he turned back to the window and answered the initial question with, "I promised you guys that I would do it, so I will."

Excellent choice.

Even if he wanted to back out, his hormonal senses were telling him not to. (Y/n) had started to take off her school uniform. Her dainty fingers unbuttoned her blouse and in a few seconds, the silky top fell to the (f/c) carpet. Then she shimmied out of her tight-fitting plaid skirt and it soon was a crumpled heap, too.

Now she stood in nude-colored leggings and a white lacy bra. For such a quiet girl, Yamamoto didn't think she would be wearing such a sensual bra. The clasp on the back just begged to be unhooked and his fingers itched with the desire.

Mukuro chuckled. For an innocent infant, Yamamoto Takeshi, your fantasies are quite dirty, he commented.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't look into those," Yamamoto replied breathlessly, his eyes trained on (y/n) as she stepped out of her leggings, leaving her exposed in just a bra and panties. God, the panties matched the bra, both in design and color. It looked great against her skin. And it left barely anything to the imagination. A groan built up behind his lips and he fought it down.

He'd come here regretting the decision but now he couldn't care less about being caught. The girl had a fantastic body. Slender and petite, with only a little excess fat where needed, it was the body of a temptress and Yamamoto knew he was being tempted. He felt strangely hot and bothered and she hadn't even bared all of herself yet. At this rate, it was only a matter of seconds.

You're almost there, Mukuro coaxed lazily. Those panties and that bra are in the way, hmm? Just wait they come off.

"You make it sound like you've seen her naked before," he said under his breath.

Perhaps I have…

And then the bra was on the floor, too. She was standing with her back to him but Yamamoto could just see the swell of her breasts, if he looked hard enough. With a soft sigh, (y/n) reached up and undid the bun that concealed her (h/c) hair. Her tresses came tumbling down like London's supposed bridges, glossy and voluminous and beautiful, falling past her breasts and stopping just short of her tiny waist.

Yamamoto inhaled sharply. "Oh, shit." His face was uncomfortably warm and he felt like he was on the verge of a nosebleed. No wonder she kept her hair up all the time! That hair alone could cause immense blood loss and amnesia.

Now she was running her hands down her neck, her breasts, her stomach, as if she knew she had an audience. Inside his head, Mukuro perked up, grinning with a rumbling laugh that said he liked where this was going. Slowly, she hooked her thumbs in the corners of her panties and tugged down ever so lightly—

At that point, it was all Yamamoto could handle. He would love to see more but it was too much already and his exploding imagination, plus Mukuro's laugh, and the blood bursting from his nose caused him to faint and he fell backward, landing hard in the bushes. The impact was loud and (y/n) gasped when she heard the rustling noises.

"Ugh, is it a Peeping Tom?" she questioned. "I shouldn't have left my window open…"

She ran over to the window and pulled it shut, locking it for emphasis. In her haste, she didn't see Yamamoto's legs sticking out from the brambles, where the bush had caught his fall.

Too bad, Yamamoto Takeshi, Mukuro purred, before peeling out of the boy's mind. Had you not fainted, you would have lost your innocence and you would have seen (y/n)'s lovely breasts from up close…

Attempt One: Peeking as she bathed.
Suggestion: Mukuro.
Result: Fail.