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7/31/2025, 6:36:32 AM
It was an average Saturday night. In a rare wave of willingness on your part, you decided to visit Geidontei. Times haven't been easy as of late. Nothing a little booze couldn't wash away, perhaps a glimpse of the waitress's boundless bosom for a morale boost.
As both you and the unusual bar played your parts, a pair of infrequent visitors showed up. You sadly couldn't recall either of their names, but you recognized their faces from a flyer somewhere, next to an ad for the next Horismriver. You paid little attention to it, feeling a mix of pity and righteousness at what seemed like second-rate musicians.
Unfortunately, it seemed as though this dark joke of yours might be the reality they were living through. As any of the alcoholics roaming this bar could tell you, drinking your sorrows away is rarely a sign of a prosperous, healthy life.
In what could only be described as a move motivated by guilt over your inner thoughts, you asked if they were okay with you sitting beside them. Soon enough, you came to know them as Benben, the quieter, older sister, who delusionally spoke of her big brain to her gullible, yet much more fragile sister, Yatsuhashi. It had been particularly tough for her. As newly born Tsukumogamis content with their former lives, they did not carry the same confidence as Raiko, which ultimately led to a downward spiral of social unease, daily life struggles, and an overall sense of missing purpose.
Emboldened by both booze and the mere fact that a man had stayed and shown empathy for her, the young Koto's soft, plectrum-covered hands explored your body, taking hold of your hands, seeking to make her sing. She could feel it in your touch. Yes, you were not the most musically inclined, but you had listened to her lament long enough; she sought to change the tune to a more heated melody—more bouncy, more lively.
She just wanted to be used again...
It was by a hair that you were saved from complying with this cheerful Tsukumogami's excited ballad. The waitress, charming as she usually was, told the two of you that clients found your lecherous hymn quite uncomfortable to witness.
Seeking no trouble from your own little sanctuary of vice, you managed to gently push the enamored Koto away, pretexting a night shift to lay down and think about what had just unfolded.
In the meantime, Yatsuhashi, shamelessly wet on the bar stool, seemed to have found her way out of this miserable routine. Benben, ever the cautious sister, stayed on guard, believing that, despite the trio parting ways, Raiko remained a model to follow rather than a guide to navigate the unknown seas of interspecies relationships.
Yatsuhashi disagreed. Her panties did too. There is no deeper relationship than the one between a man and his crafts, and that is impossible without tools. It wasn't a rejection Yatsuhashi experienced, but a mere reminder that you were most astute to the rules of this world, and willing to comply when needs be. There's no way you wouldn't get it next time the two of you meet...
As both you and the unusual bar played your parts, a pair of infrequent visitors showed up. You sadly couldn't recall either of their names, but you recognized their faces from a flyer somewhere, next to an ad for the next Horismriver. You paid little attention to it, feeling a mix of pity and righteousness at what seemed like second-rate musicians.
Unfortunately, it seemed as though this dark joke of yours might be the reality they were living through. As any of the alcoholics roaming this bar could tell you, drinking your sorrows away is rarely a sign of a prosperous, healthy life.
In what could only be described as a move motivated by guilt over your inner thoughts, you asked if they were okay with you sitting beside them. Soon enough, you came to know them as Benben, the quieter, older sister, who delusionally spoke of her big brain to her gullible, yet much more fragile sister, Yatsuhashi. It had been particularly tough for her. As newly born Tsukumogamis content with their former lives, they did not carry the same confidence as Raiko, which ultimately led to a downward spiral of social unease, daily life struggles, and an overall sense of missing purpose.
Emboldened by both booze and the mere fact that a man had stayed and shown empathy for her, the young Koto's soft, plectrum-covered hands explored your body, taking hold of your hands, seeking to make her sing. She could feel it in your touch. Yes, you were not the most musically inclined, but you had listened to her lament long enough; she sought to change the tune to a more heated melody—more bouncy, more lively.
She just wanted to be used again...
It was by a hair that you were saved from complying with this cheerful Tsukumogami's excited ballad. The waitress, charming as she usually was, told the two of you that clients found your lecherous hymn quite uncomfortable to witness.
Seeking no trouble from your own little sanctuary of vice, you managed to gently push the enamored Koto away, pretexting a night shift to lay down and think about what had just unfolded.
In the meantime, Yatsuhashi, shamelessly wet on the bar stool, seemed to have found her way out of this miserable routine. Benben, ever the cautious sister, stayed on guard, believing that, despite the trio parting ways, Raiko remained a model to follow rather than a guide to navigate the unknown seas of interspecies relationships.
Yatsuhashi disagreed. Her panties did too. There is no deeper relationship than the one between a man and his crafts, and that is impossible without tools. It wasn't a rejection Yatsuhashi experienced, but a mere reminder that you were most astute to the rules of this world, and willing to comply when needs be. There's no way you wouldn't get it next time the two of you meet...
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