The bakery was quiet now. No customers, no chatter, and no clatter of dishes being stacked.
Just the low hum of the refrigerator, the gentle rush of water from the sink.
And the occasional creak of the old wooden floors as Yukari moved somewhere behind her.
The warm scent of pastries still lingered in the air, but the heat from the ovens had long since faded.
leaving the space feeling cooler, and calmer.
Akira barely noticed any of it.
Her focus was locked on the last of the dishes, her hands scrubbing automatically as her mind worked overtime.
Trying to ignore the aching fullness in her lower stomach. The pressure had been manageable at first—annoying, but not urgent. But now, with every passing second, it was getting worse.
The heavyweight in her bladder pressed down relentlessly,
throbbing with each movement.
Making her legs stiffen involuntarily.
She shifted her weight slightly, pressing her thighs together as subtly as possible.
The pants of her pants of her uniform felt too tight
The waistband dug into her abdomen, amplifying the discomfort.
Even the sturdy weight of her boots, normally grounding, felt like they were trapping her in place,
making her feel stuck.
But she was almost done.
Just this last tray. Then she could go. She just had to hold on a little longer...
Her mind was preoccupied trying to hold back.
A warmth pressed against her back
Interrupting her train of thought.
Akira froze.
Without warning, arms looped around her waist,
Yukari settled against her effortlessly, casually, as if this were completely normal.
"Thanks for doing the dishes for me" Yukari purred, her voice smooth and quiet, spoken close to Akira's ear.
Her chin rested lightly on Akira's shoulder, her embrace loose but steady.
It wasn't tight.
Wasn't restraining.
Just gentle. Just comforting. But to Akira—Right now, it was too much.
The warmth of Yukari's body pressed firmly against her back, her arms resting just a little too low, the light weight of them settling against her stomach.
A completely innocent touch. A completely unbearable one. The pressure against her bladder was immediate. Sharp, overwhelming, crushing.
Her stomach tightened instinctively, muscles locking up as a violent wave of urgency slammed into her.
A sharp gasp caught in her throat. Her fingers dug into the edge of the sink. Her legs pressed together on instinct, trembling with the effort to keep control.
"A…Ah—" she whimpered
Her breath shuddered, barely able to push out the sound.
Yukari noticed immediately.
"Hmm?"
She shifted slightly, tilting her head, her breath warm against Akira's skin.
"Is there something wrong?" Yukari murmured warmly
Akira's throat tightened. She needed to focus.
She needed to breathe through it.
She needed to make Yukari let go.
But then—
The running water.
The steady, gentle rush of it, swirling down the drain, splashing against her hands.
The constant sound of liquid moving freely.
The warm pressure of Yukaris's body against hers
It was too much.
Her bladder gave out. For just a second. A sharp, sudden spurt of warmth.
Akira's eyes widened.
No. No, no, no! Fuck
She clenched every muscle, fighting to regain control. Pressed her legs together even tighter. Held completely still.
But Yukari was still there. Still wrapped around her. Still caressing her waist.
Another pulse of pressure. Another leak. Stronger this time.
The warmth spread into the fabric of her underwear, soaking into the crotch of her pants. A slow, creeping dampness.
Akira stiffened violently.
Her heart pounded.
No.
No, she could still stop this!
She could still—
But then it happened.
A sharp, unbearable ache pulsed through her abdomen, and her body gave up.
A rush of heat spilled out all at once, flooding into her pants, and pouring down her legs in thick, unstoppable waves.
The fabric darkened instantly, soaking through too fast, the dampness spreading lower, faster, pooling at the seams.
The first few drops hit the tile with a soft, humiliating another. Then more.
A slow, steady trickle slipped down her thighs, racing toward her boots.
Akira stopped breathing.
The warmth spread too quickly, soaking the denim, clinging to her skin.
She could feel it.
The wetness sticking to her inner thighs, the gathering warmth at the back of her knees.
The way it pooled at the hem of her jeans, beginning to seep into her socks.
Her boots felt heavier. Uncomfortable. Damp.
The steady dripping grew louder, filling the silence, the only thing she could hear now besides her shaky breathing. And the beat of her heart echoed in her ears.
And then—
Yukari stiffened.
Her arms twitched slightly, barely moving. Then she froze completely. Because she felt it.
The warmth. The dampness. The slow, creeping realization.
She stepped back.
Quick. Almost like a reflex.
Akira's stomach dropped.
Yukari's eyes flickered downward.
Akira panicked. "I—I just got water on me," she blurted out, her voice too fast, too high, too desperate.
Yukari stared. She didn't speak. Didn't blink.
Just… stared.
Akira's face burned. She scrambled for anything else to say.
But her mind was racing too fast to even comprehend the situation.
No
She was soaked.
The dark stain was obvious, stretching down the front of her light blue paints.
The stain widened at her thighs, streaking toward her slow dripping onto the tile hadn't even stopped yet.
There was no way Yukari was going to believe her.
Yukari's gaze dragged back up to her face.
She raised an eyebrow.
Akira felt like she was going to die.
"I—I swear," Akira stammered, her whole body still shaking, her hands gripping the sink behind her like it was the only thing keeping her upright.
Yukari's expression didn't change.
Didn't soften.
Didn't give anything away.
Just… studied her.
Calm. Unbothered. Amused. Too amused.
Akira's stomach knotted. She wasn't going to let this go. Akira knew it.
And yet—
She still tried.
Tried one last time.
One last desperate, pathetic attempt.
"I—I just—"
And then Yukari smiled. Slow. Dangerous. Knowing. And Akira knew—
The silence was suffocating.
Akira was still shaking.
Her breath was uneven, and no matter how hard she tried to steady herself, she could still feel it.
The warm, drenched fabric clung to her skin. The lingering heat trapped beneath the layers of her pants. The damp weight around her ankles, pooled inside her boots. It was all too much.
Every nerve in her body screamed at her to move.
But she couldn't.
Not with Yukari still standing right there. Still watching her. Still too close.
And then—
A slow breath. Yukari laughed. Soft. Smooth. Mocking laugh "Oh, Akira…" She sighed
Akira stiffened up not knowing what to expect. Yukari tilted her head, dragging her gaze downward.
"You really couldn't hold it uh?"
Her voice was warm. Too warm. Like she was disappointed.
Like this was something she expected more from her.
Akira's face burned.
"I—I just got water on me," she blurted, her voice too fast, too high, too desperate.
Yukari just stared. Her expression was unreadable. Slow. Calculating. But then she smiled.
"Oh?" she said
She let the word hang in the air for a second, rolling it around her tongue like she was debating whether or not to believe it.
Then, just as slowly—
She stepped closer. Akira's breath hitched.
The warmth of her presence was immediate, pressing against the edges of her already overwhelmed senses.
She smelled faintly of cinnamon and vanilla, the scent still lingering from the day's baking, but there was something else too—something heavier, thicker, something dangerously amused.
Akira swallowed hard.
Yukari's gaze dragged downward again.
Lingering this time.
Lingering too long.
"Oh, sweetheart," she sighed, voice dipping lower. Too smooth. Too cruel. "You didn't just get water on you like that. And you know that"
Akira's stomach twisted. Yukari crouched down. Settling way too close. Akira's hands clenched weakly in her lap, her whole body locked up, trapped.
Yukari just smiled. "What a mess," she murmured.
Her voice was silk and honey, laced with quiet amusement, soft and taunting.
She reached out and lightly dragged her fingertips over the wet fabric of Akira's pants.
Akira stiffened violently. Her whole body jerked. The touch was barely there, just a slow, lazy brush against the soaked denim—
But it was enough.
Enough to make her breath hitch. Enough to make her spine stiffen. Enough to remind her exactly where Yukari was touching. Enough to make her face turn from warm to burning.
Yukari hummed. Getting amused, no excited.
She traced the damp fabric just a little lower. A little bit more tenderly, caressing the inner tight area ever so gently.
Akira squirmed, not used to the touch Her face burned, her whole body frozen in mortification. But also an underlying sense of arousal.
And Yukari noticed. She let her fingers linger—just a second too long. Akira's breath shuddered.
Yukari chuckled.
"Oh," she murmured, voice mocking. "Aww are you sensitive here?"
Akira couldn't answer. Couldn't move. Couldn't do anything except sit there, frozen, shaking with humiliation.
Yukari finally pulled back—slowly. She exhaled dramatically.
"You poor thing~"
Akira's stomach knotted, she didn't know what to do. Yukari didn't sound sympathetic at all. If anything she sounded disappointed and somehow—that was worse.
Akira curled her hands into fists, pressing them tightly against her lap, trying to steady her breathing, trying not to think about the way Yukari's presence was pressing into her senses.
But then—
"I can't believe you of all people would do something like this. Especially at our age" Yukari mused, voice smooth.
Her fingers brushed lightly against Akira's hip. Akira whimpered.
A soft, breathy noise, barely more than a strangled gasp—
But Yukari heard it she let out a slow, chuckle.
Akira felt it before she heard it, the low vibration of Yukari's voice curling through the air, warm, amused, knowing.
Yukari sighed but gave out a small chuckle after. "You really are a dog, an untrained dog at that."
Akira's breath caught in her throat. The words hit too hard, too sharp, too real.
She ducked her head, curling in on herself, hands squeezing together tightly, but it didn't help.
Because Yukari wasn't done.
"You should be more careful, honey. Unless you want to start using puppy pads" She giggled
And before Akira could react—
Fingers brushed lightly against her hip again. Akira whimpered. Her whole body was locked up. Yukari sighed dramatically.
"You're trembling, how cute~!" she purred. She let the words hang in the air. Soft. Mocking. Then—
Akira felt like she was going to die of embarrassment. She had to get out of there. Now.
Her voice was weak, barely above a whisper. "I—I should go change—"
Yukari tilted her head. "Mmm. Yeah, I guess you should."
Akira nodded frantically. "Yeah—"
She scrambled to her feet, nearly stumbling as the heavy, damp denim shifted uncomfortably against her legs.
She barely registered the humiliating squelch of her boots as she stepped away too fast. Barely registered the way the wet denim clung worse now that she was moving. Barely registered anything— Except for the way Yukari was still watching her still smiling.
By the time they left the bakery, the sun had already set.
The night air was cool, crisp, fresh.
Akira barely registered any of it. She was too focused on not collapsing. Her legs still felt weak. Her breath still felt too fast.
And beside her—
Yukari was walking way too casually. Like none of it had even happened.
Akira didn't know how to think about Yukari now. She loved her but that was just odd, but to be fair she knew Yukari could be a bit hard to read and unpredictable at times.
But still, she went too far tonight, but Akira didn't know how to tell her, hell she kind of liked it unexpectedly.
But the silent night air felt too thick.
Akira stood stiffly in front of her house, gripping the strap of her bag, still flustered, still tense, still burning with embarrassment.
Yukari stood across from her, hands in her coat pockets, too casual, too amused, too relaxed—like she was completely unbothered by what just happened.
Akira was dying inside. She needed to go inside. She needed to be alone.
She needed to forget about all of this—
But Yukari just stood there, lingering for a few extra seconds, watching her squirm.
Then—slowly, smoothly—
"Are you sure you'll be fine hun?" Yukari murmured, her voice too soft, too knowing.
Akira shivered. She didn't trust that tone. She didn't trust that look in Yukari's eyes.
She definitely didn't trust the tiny smirk curling at the edges of her lips.
"I—I'll be fine!" she blurted out, too quickly, her voice too high.
Yukari's smirk deepened.
"Hmm," she hummed, tilting her head slightly. "If you say so."
Akira felt her face heat up all over again. She knew Yukari was teasing her. She knew Yukari was dragging this out on purpose.
And yet—
She still didn't know what to do. So she just stood there, waiting for Yukari to finally leave.
With a pause, Yukari took a step forward, giving Akira a gentle peek on the cheek
Then, finally—
"Goodnight, Akira," Yukari murmured, her voice cold and smooth, as she turned on her heel and walked away.
Akira didn't move. She didn't breathe. She just stood there, frozen, watching Yukari disappear down the street, her heart still racing, her hands still trembling, her stomach still twisting.
It was over.
She was safe.
She could finally—
"Akira?"
Akira flinched.
She turned her head quickly, her stomach sinking as she spotted—
Ichika.
She was standing just a few feet away, arms loosely crossed, her pigtails slightly messy from the long day, looking half-awake and mildly concerned.
Akira blinked in surprise.
"I—Ichika?" she stammered, shifting awkwardly. "What are you doing out here?"
Ichika let out a small groan, rubbing her eyes sleepily.
"I was waiting for you," she murmured.
Akira blinked again, her heart giving a guilty little tug.
Ichika must've seen her confusion, because she shifted on her feet, adjusting the oversized sleeves of her pajama shirt before adding, "You took longer than usual. I got kinda worried."
Akira's chest tightened.
She hadn't even realized how late it had gotten—or that Ichika had been paying attention to how long she was gone.
I mean I guess she always saw Akira standing on her balcony before bed but still. She bit her lip, suddenly unsure what to say.
"O-Oh," she muttered, looking down briefly. "I, um… I was just…"
Her voice trailed off.
What was she supposed to say?
'Sorry, I took forever because I completely humiliated myself at work and Yukari had way too much fun teasing me about it.'
No. No way.
No way in hell.
Ichika watched her for a moment, clearly noticing something was off, but she was too tired to push it.
"We just got a bit distracted while cleaning is all." Akira sputtered
Ichkia just hummed lightly.
"Oh well, you're back now," she said simply. "That's what matters."
Akira felt relief wash over her.
Ichika wasn't going to press. She wasn't going to dig deeper or ask too many questions.
She was just glad Akira made it home.
Akira swallowed, nodding quickly.
"Y-Yeah," she murmured. "I'm back."
Ichika gave her a small, tired smile, then tilted her head slightly toward the door.
"You should go inside," she murmured. "You look like really tired."
Akira let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding.
"…Yeah," she said again, softer this time.
She reached for the door, fumbling for her keys, but—
Before she could go inside—
Ichika spoke again, voice quieter than before.
"…Is everything okay?"
Akira's breath caught.
Ichika wasn't asking because she suspected anything. She wasn't teasing or prying. She was just… checking in.
Akira's fingers tightened slightly around her keys.
"…Yeah," she murmured after a pause. "I'm okay."
Ichika studied her face for a second longer—like she was trying to read between the lines—but in the end, she just nodded sleepily.
"Okay," she mumbled. "Goodnight, then!" The ginger beamed gently hugging the older girl for a short moment.
Akira gave her a small, grateful smile gently patting her head.
"Goodnight, Ichika."
Ichika yawned, giving a lazy little wave before heading toward her own house, disappearing behind her door with a quiet click.
Akira let out a deep, shaky breath.
Then—finally—she stepped inside.
And locked the door.
That night Akira could barely sleep. The night's events ran through her mind.
She tried to stop thinking about it "God that was humiliating."
She couldn't keep her eyes open much longer.
By the time Yukari finally showed up, the bakery had already been open for hours.
Akira had been keeping busy, carefully stacking fresh loaves of bread onto the display shelves, trying not to think too much about last night.
The mid-morning rush had already passed so there weren't that many people, it was a bit quiet in there, especially for a weekend.
But Akira didn't want to think about how busy or not busy it was.
She wasn't nervous anymore.
She wasn't panicking. She was just… moving on. That was what she told herself.
And then—
The front door chimed.
Akira heard the clicking of heels on the tiled floor
She knew exactly who it was. She didn't turn around. She just kept working. Sweeping the floor. Calm. Steady. Normal.
Then—
"Sorry, I'm late everyone."
A familiar voice. Low. Smooth. Amused.
Akira exhaled quietly through her nose. She kept her focus on the floor.
"I hope you guys weren't too busy" she murmured, even, collected.
Behind her, Yukari hummed lightly.
"It's fine we were fine."
Akira's fingers paused for half a second.
Then, without missing a beat, she grabbed the dustpan, pushing the dirt from the floor into the pan.
"Alright I'm glad," she said simply.
Yukari stepped closer.
Akira could feel her presence now, warm and familiar, lingering just behind her shoulder.
"Since it's not busy now Akira and I need to have a little chat alone" Yukari murmured.
Akira hesitated.
Not because she was nervous. Not because she was scared. But because she knew. She knew Yukari wasn't just asking to talk.
She was picking at something.
Something Akira wasn't ready to touch.
But still—
She exhaled softly.
Then—without looking at her—
"Alright."
And just like that, she let Yukari gently take her wrist, guiding her toward the spare room in the back.
Yukari gently closed the door behind them, knowing the three younger girls would be on the other side.
Listening, theorizing.
Not only because they liked the drama between the two older girls but also out of concern.
Akira wasn't angry. She wasn't annoyed. She was just… waiting.
Yukari studied her, lips curving slightly.
"Why are you acting like you're over it," she murmured.
Akira raised an eyebrow. "Am I?"
Yukari took a slow step forward. "Mhm."
Akira didn't react—didn't step back, didn't avert her gaze. But Yukari knew her too well. She saw the tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers curled slightly against her sleeves. "Oh, sweetheart"
"Did you really think we're going to ignore this" Yukari continued.
Akira exhaled, shrugging her shoulders. "It happened," she said lightly. "I don't see why we need to dwell on it."
Yukari smiled. "Dwell? Oh no, Akira. I don't dwell."
Another step forward. Akira still didn't move.
"But I do reflect," Yukari murmured, voice slow, deliberate. "And last night was… enlightening, to say the least."
Akira's fingers twitched.
Yukari took her time, circling Akira slightly, watching her with the kind of interest that made her feel like a specimen under a microscope.
"I wonder," Yukari mused, "if it would be different under other circumstances."
Akira frowned raising an eyebrow. "Other circumstances? What the hell do you mean by that?"
Yukari hummed.
"You know, going longer, having more.."
Akira stiffened, unfortunately, she knew what Yukari was getting at but why is talking about this? Why was she talking about this at all
Akira clenched her fists.
Akira swallowed hard. "Not happening."
Yukari sighed, slow and disappointed. "You always say that."
"Because I mean it." She barked back
Yukari just smiled. Pleased. Patient.
Akira hated that smile.
The lazy tilt of her head. The way she stepped forward with zero hesitation like she knew Akira wouldn't—couldn't—run. Like she was enjoying this.
Akira was trying so hard to stand her ground, but god, she felt like a dog with its ears pinned back, tail between its legs, growling just to pretend it wasn't already trapped.
And Yukari?
Yukari was the cat who had her cornered. Watching. Amused. Taking her sweet, sweet time.
"Funny," Yukari mused. "I thought you liked a challenge."
Akira exhaled sharply. "That wasn't a challenge. That was—" She swallowed, forcing herself to hold eye contact. "That was an accident! A mistake"
"Mmm." Yukari's voice was slow, smooth—silk winding around Akira's throat. "Sure."
Another step closer.
Akira clenched her fists.
"You were such a mess last night," Yukari murmured, her voice dripping with amusement.
Akira's stomach twisted.
Yukari sighed. "You are so pitiful sometimes ."
Akira's face burned. "Shut up."
Yukari smiled wider.
"Poor thing," she crooned, tilting her head. "Already getting defensive."
Akira's jaw tightened. "I am not—"
"Oh, sweetheart." Yukari exhaled, slow and indulgent. "You're practically trembling."
Akira was not trembling.
She straightened her back, crossing her arms to prove it.
Yukari's eyes flickered down. Slowly. A deliberate once-over, like she was checking.
Like she was evaluating her.
Then—her gaze flicked back up, lips curling.
"You do remember how it ended last night, don't you?"
Akira's stomach dropped.
Yukari leaned in, just a fraction closer, voice dipping low.
"You can still feel it, can't you?"
Akira sucked in a sharp breath, heat crawling up her spine. "I—I don't—"
Yukari tsked, shaking her head. "Lying doesn't suit you, sweetie~."
Akira stiffened. Yukari's smirk widened.
"Oh, that got to you, didn't it?" she purred. "You hate that, don't you?"
She was right Akira hated it.
She hated how easily Yukari slipped under her skin. Hated how sure she sounded. Hated how her stomach twisted at the mocking lilt in her voice.
Yukari exhaled, tilting her head again—like she was savoring it.
"I get it," she murmured. "Maybe it was too much for you. Maybe you just… couldn't handle it."
Akira's breath hitched.
She knew she shouldn't bite. She knew Yukari was just playing with her.
But god, she wanted to wipe that smug expression off her face.
"That's not—"
"Oh, no, no, it's okay." Yukari gave her a slow, mocking pat on the shoulder. "Some girls just aren't cut out for it."
Akira jerked away. "I handled it better than you ever could!"
Yukari's eyes gleamed.
"Oh?" she said smoothly. "Then prove it."
Akira blinked. "What?"
"If you're really over it," Yukari murmured, "then this should be easy."
Akira felt her pulse hammering in her throat. "I—I don't—"
"Just one little test," Yukari crooned. "You and me. Same conditions. Let's see who handles it better."
Akira swallowed, heat creeping up her neck.
Yukari watched her hesitate. Drank it in. Let the silence stretch just to see her squirm.
Then—
"Unless…" Yukari dragged a single finger along her jawline, slow and deliberate. "You're worried you'll fall apart again."
Akira bristled.
Her face burned.
"I didn't fall apart," she snapped.
Yukari exhaled, voice dripping with amusement. "Mmm."
A slow, knowing smile curled on her lips.
"I remember it differently."
Akira clenched her fists. "I—"
"Oh, sweetheart." Yukari sighed, shaking her head. "You poor, poor girl."
She tilted her head, her eyes flickering with cruel amusement.
"Maybe you'd like it if we made it a game."
Akira froze. Yukari's voice dipped all honey and razor wire.
"Or if I gave you a treat for being a good girl for me." She wispred.
Akira's breath hitched. Yukari smirked. "Oh, I know you'd love it then~!"
Akira felt her whole body lock up. Her hands clenched into fists, nails digging into her palms.
"That—" Her voice wavered. "That's disgusting."
Yukari chuckled, low and indulgent.
"Oh?"
She took another step, and Akira knew—knew—she was losing as Yukari put one arm around her waist and the other on her cheek.
"That got to you, how cute," Yukari murmured, her voice practically purring as she caressed Akiras body.
Akira clenched her teeth trying to not melt into her touch like she normally would.
She had to shut this down. She had to end it.
"Fine," she bit out.
Yukari's eyes gleamed.
"Fine?"
Akira tried to escape her grasp not forcefully but just like an annoyed nudge. "But when I win, you drop this. Forever."
Yukari let out a slow, satisfied hum.
"Yeah sure alright, but you will still be a dog that needs training." She whispered, letting a a little bit of a giggle after saying it.
Akira stiffened.
Yukari stepped back just slightly, her eyes flicking down—then up. That same, evaluating look.
"I just hope you last long enough to make it fun."
Akira's breath hitched.
But the game was on, who could hold on longer...
The door clicked shut.
For a long moment, silence
The three girls listened in and tried their best to get everything. It didn't help that they were whispering. So half of the words were incoherent
Ichika exhaled sharply. "Okay. What was that about?!"
Himari clutched her head. "I don't know but I know I regret listening in."
Aoi stared at the door like it had personally offended her. "Yeah honestly same here"
Ichika gestured wildly. "Do you guys think it's just some weird couple thing?"
Aoi shook her head. "No idea. But that does sound plausible "
Ichika whispered back. "No, it's definitely a couple thing."
Aoi nodded. "Yeah, you're right, if it wasn't they wouldn't have to talk about it in private."
Himari crossed her arms. "If that's fully the case I don't think we should be eavesdropping like this-"
Ichika nodded. "Yeah true still Akira has been acting weird since last night. Something happened last night that led up to this. Honestly I kind of worry me"
Himari exhaled. "Okay, fair, but still—"
Aoi frowned. "yeah something happened last night, Akira didn't want to bring it up but you know Yukari did anyway."
Ichika froze. "Yeah, hmm"
Himari whispered, "I mean that is weird but we really shouldn't be talking about this I mean its none of our business.'"
Aoi exhaled. "…Yeah I guess we should just let it be I guess."
Silence.
The three of them sat there in quiet horror.
Still trying to piece together the mystery.
Still having no idea what they just overheard.
Still completely clueless to the battle that was about to begin.
And then—
They heard movement inside.
The sound of their footsteps coming towards the door
Himari took a deep breath. "Okay. We should go."
Aoi nodded slowly. "Yeah."
Ichika hesitated for a second longer, then sighed. "Let's just… pretend we never heard anything."
Without another word, the three of them quietly stepped away from the door, heading into the kitchen—completely unaware of the battle unfolding just behind them.
The kitchen smelled of flour and sugar, the air thick with the warmth of baking bread. The countertops were lined with ingredients—bags of flour, cartons of eggs, bowls of softened butter.
Everyone had their tasks.
Himari kneaded dough. Ichika measured the ingredients. Aoi portioned butter.
And in the middle of it all—Akira and Yukari.
Side by side.
Both calm.
Both focused.
Both pretending nothing was wrong.
Then—Yukari made the first move.
She grabbed a full water bottle.
Uncapped it.
And drank.
Not just a sip.
Not just half.
The whole thing.
Akira paused mid-whisk.
The girls noticed.
Aoi's eyes flickered toward her. "…Thirsty?"
Yukari wiped her mouth, completely unfazed. "A little."
She grabbed another bottle.
And drank that too.
Akira raised an eyebrow.
Ichika almost dropped a measuring cup.
Aoi, trying to act normal, kept kneading dough. "…Damn."
Himari leaned over towards Aoi and whispered. "Is she alright?"
Yukari set the empty bottle down, exhaling slowly. Then—she turned to Akira.
Smirking lightly
Akira's jaw tensed.
The challenge was clear.
But Akira wasn't taking the bait.
She simply rolled up her sleeves, grabbed a whisk, and continued working. Steady. Unbothered.
Yukari tilted her head. "What aren't you thirsty it's kind of warm in here"
Akira smiled. "I'm fine."
Yukari scoffed under her breath. "Doubt it."
And for the first few minutes, she didn't.
She went back to work, kneading dough, moving smoothly, handling tasks like normal.
But then—it started to creep in as the day went on.
The oven timer beeped.
Aoi stretched, checking the clock. "Alright, I'm heading out."
Himari wiped her hands on a towel. "Yeah, me to."
Akira rolled her eyes. "Alright goodnight you two."
Yukari waved them off with a lazy smile. "See you tomorrow."
Ichika stacked trays on the counter, glancing up as the front door clicked shut.
And just like that—it was down to three.
The air in the kitchen shifted.
No more distractions.
No more casual conversation.
Just the three of them—and the competition.
Ichika, stirring chocolate, felt the tension creep back in. She didn't know what was happening, but she knew it was happening.
She just kept working.
Pretending not to notice.
Waiting.
Yukari was fine.
Totally fine.
…Mostly fine.
The water she had chugged earlier was settling.
The warmth of the kitchen, the constant motion—it wasn't helping.
She shifted her weight, kneading dough with too much force.
Ichika saw.
"Are you okay?" she asked casually.
Yukari didn't even hesitate the lie coming to her instantly. "Yeah, just that time of the month."
Ichika nodded. "Oh! Want some tea or something?"
Yukari smirked. "Nice try."
Ichika blinked. "…What?"
Yukari shook her head. "Nothing."
She rolled out dough aggressively, forcing herself to focus.
It was fine.
It was totally fine.
But Akira was watching.
And she knew.
Akira rinsed her hands under cold running water.
Let it run longer than necessary.
Yukari ignored it.
Kept kneading, kept working.
Akira turned off the water.
Dried her hands.
Then—she grabbed a glass.
Ichika's eyes flickered toward her.
Yukari didn't react.
Akira filled the glass with ice water.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
The sound of water trickling into the glass filled the quiet kitchen.
Ichika glanced between them.
Yukari's hands tensed.
Akira picked up the glass.
Took a slow, calm sip.
Then—she set it down next to Yukari.
Right. Next. To. Her.
Yukari exhaled through her nose.
Akira smiled. "Here since you really need it."
Ichika stared at both of them. "…Are you guys okay?"
Yukari picked up a rolling pin. "Perfectly fine."
Akira wiped down the counter. "Never better."
Ichika stirred the heavy cream and sugar mixture, whispering to herself. "…They're insane."
The battle was even again.
And neither of them was backing down.
Ichika checked the clock.
6:58 PM.
She stretched, rolling out her shoulders. "Alright. I'm heading out."
Akira kept rolling the dough. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea it's getting dark."
Yukari kept piping cream. "See you."
Ichika squinted.
They were too calm.
Way too calm.
She glanced between them, expecting one last weird moment.
Nothing.
Just the sound of the kitchen. The hum of the ovens. The scrape of utensils.
She grabbed her bag, still watching.
"…Are you guys sure you don't want help cleaning up."
Akira smirked. "No where good besides I know you have homework to do."
Ichika opened her eyes wide. "Oh shoot you're right thanks for reminding me!"
She had work to do
But she wanted to stick around to find out what was actually happening.
"…Alright. See you later Akira! Night Yukari!."
She stepped out, closing the door behind her.
The second it latched shut—
Everything changed.
The kitchen was too quiet.
The kind of quiet that meant something was about to happen.
The kind of quiet that felt heavy.
Loaded.
Yukari was stiff.
Still.
But not the kind of carefree stillness she usually carried—no, this was calculated.
Too controlled.
Too tense.
Akira leaned against the counter, watching.
She didn't need to say anything.
She could see it already.
The subtle shift in weight. The way Yukari's fingers curled slightly against the counter's edge. The way her breath had turned just a fraction too sharp.
Oh, this was getting good.
Akira turned, moving deliberately slow, reaching for the sink.
She twisted the faucet.
Water poured out in a steady, relentless stream.
Yukari flinched.
She didn't move. Didn't react. Didn't look.
But Akira saw it.
The way her shoulders stiffened.
The way her knees pressed together—just slightly, just barely—but enough.
Oh.
Oh, this was even better than she'd hoped.
She poured herself a glass, lifting it slowly to her lips.
Took a sip.
Let the cool liquid roll over her tongue.
Swallowed.
Let out a soft, satisfied sigh.
Yukari exhaled too sharply through her nose.
Akira smirked. "Thirsty?"
Yukari's fingers tightened on the counter. "No."
Akira set her glass down.
Right. Next. To. Her.
"You sure?" Akira murmured her voice light, teasing. "You look a little… tense."
Yukari scoffed. "You're trying too hard."
Akira tilted her head. "Am I?"
She could see it—
The way Yukari's breathing had turned shallow. The way she was focused, not on Akira, but on keeping still.
Oh, she was close.
Akira smiled, slow and pleased. "Getting nervous?"
Yukari exhaled sharply. "Of what?"
Akira leaned in slightly, eyes gleaming. "Of losing."
And then—
Something in Yukari's expression shifted.
Something sharp.
Something dangerous.
And suddenly—she moved.
Too fast.
Too sudden.
She pushed off the counter, turning on her heel—
Akira blinked.
Oh?
She was running.
Akira's stomach flipped.
Oh, this was better than she could've asked for!
She smirked. "Going somewhere?"
Yukari didn't stop. "I need a break."
Akira didn't chase her.
She didn't have to.
She just crossed her arms—
And waited.
Yukari strode across the kitchen, her steps too controlled, too carefully measured, her body stiff with restraint—
And then—
She reached the door.
Her hand slammed against the handle.
She twisted. Pushed. Nothing.
Her heart stopped.
She yanked it again.
Still nothing.
No.
No, no, no—
She twisted the handle harder, jiggling it, pulling, pushing—
The door didn't budge.
It was locked.
Deadlocked.
Her stomach plummeted.
She turned.
Akira was leaning casually against the counter.
Watching.
Waiting.
Smirking.
Yukari's breath caught.
"...You."
Akira shrugged. "What about me?"
Yukari's eyes narrowed. "You locked it."
Akira's smirk widened.
She lifted her glass.
Took another slow sip.
Set it down.
Then—
"Maybe."
Yukari's hands curled into fists.
"Unlock it."
Akira sighed. "Hmm… no, I don't think I will."
Yukari twitched.
Her thighs pressed together.
She was running out of time.
Akira saw it.
Felt it.
Her voice softened. "Something wrong?"
Yukari inhaled through her teeth. "You—"
And then—
It hit.
The wave of pressure.
Sharp. Sudden.
Too strong.
Too much.
Her breath stuttered.
No.
Not here.
Not now.
She forced herself still, clenching, gritting her teeth—
Akira watched.
The moment Yukari's legs locked up.
The way her hips twitched—
The way her fingers gripped the handle, as if that could somehow stop what was coming—
And then—
She froze.
Her whole body went rigid.
Akira barely had a second to process it before—
Yukari jerked forward.
A sharp inhale.
The smallest, tiniest gasp.
And Akira knew.
Oh, she knew.
She had heard that breath before.
The sound someone made when their body gave up.
Yukari shuddered.
Her head dipped forward.
Her hands clenched so hard that her knuckles went white—
And then—
Then she whimpered.
Soft. Involuntary.
Barely audible.
But Akira heard it.
She heard it.
And then—
Then Yukari's body buckled.
A sharp, wet hiss—
Heat.
Fast.
Unstoppable.
It bloomed beneath her apron, soaking straight through the soft fabric, spreading.
Yukari gasped.
No, no, no—
Her thighs pressed together, but it didn't stop anything.
The apron—
Oh, the apron.
It was tied tight around her waist, clinging to her stomach, pressing flat against her hips—
And now—
It was saturating.
Heavy. Hot. Clinging.
Akira felt her own breath catch.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Yukari shook.
Her body trembled.
Her jaw clenched.
And still—still—she refused to look at Akira.
Akira's voice was a purr. "Something wrong?"
Yukari hissed through her teeth.
Akira smirked.
But—
But she wasn't invincible either.
She had pushed herself too far.
She could feel the dampness beneath her own apron.
Not much.
Not noticeable.
But there.
And that was her victory.
She had hid it better.
Yukari turned, her breath still uneven, eyes flicking downward—
And she saw.
The way Akira's apron was untied.
The way she was holding it just right.
Yukari's lips curled.
"You cheated."
Akira smiled, slow.
"I played smarter."
Yukari let out a low, dangerous chuckle.
Then—
She stepped forward.
Slow. Deliberate.
Until there was barely any space left between them.
Her voice was silk and steel.
"Next time, puppy."
She leaned in—
Her breath warm against Akira's ear.
"I won't go easy on you."