The crisp autumn air carried a bite as Kaito stepped out of the apartment building, the city streets alive with the hum of evening traffic and distant laughter from nearby cafes. Neon signs flickered to life in the twilight, casting colorful glows on the pavement, while leaves rustled underfoot like whispers of forgotten battles. He adjusted his school bag over one shoulder, the weight a reminder of the dual life he juggled—mornings filled with lectures and subtle flirtations from Haruka and Sora, afternoons at Burger Baron where Reina's dramatic commands blended with Haruka's competitive energy and Sora's quiet diligence. Home remained the heart of it all, where Sayuri's nurturing presence anchored everything, her body now subtly rounding with the early signs of change, a secret shared in tender nights where her movements had grown more deliberate, guided by the pull of their shared moments.
That morning had been a quiet ritual: Sayuri in a flowing maternity blouse that draped softly over her emerging bump, her hands lingering on his as she passed him tea, the warmth of her touch promising more later. Akari had stretched in the living room, her tank top riding up to expose her toned midriff, a faint nausea she brushed off as "just a bug," her glances toward him holding a mix of possession and vulnerability. Yui had hugged him goodbye at the door, her school uniform skirt swishing as she pressed close, whispering about feeling "a little off" but excited for the day, her affection still blooming in those stolen, reactive embraces.
School passed in a haze of normalcy laced with tension—Haruka's ponytail swinging as she leaned over his desk during break, her blouse unbuttoned just enough to draw his eye, whispering challenges for their next "rematch." Sora sat nearby, her glasses slipping as she offered him a homemade cookie, her voice soft and adoring, the memory of their gentle union making her touches linger a fraction longer. But rumors swirled in the halls: jealousy over his growing "popularity," whispers about the "shut-in turned hero" and the girls who orbited him. The persistent bully leader, now suspended but not deterred, had escalated—recruiting older thugs from outside school, fueled by bruised ego and malicious gossip.
The attack came after classes, as Kaito walked toward the station with Yui and Sora in tow—Yui chattering about an anime club meeting, Sora clutching her bag with quiet contentment. They cut through a quiet park path, trees casting long shadows in the fading light, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and fallen leaves.
A group emerged from the bushes—six now, led by the stocky bully with a fresh scar from their last clash, flanked by older delinquents: one burly with a chain necklace glinting ominously, another wiry with a baseball bat tapped against his palm, the rest sneering with makeshift weapons like pipes and brass knuckles. Their eyes locked on the girls first—Yui freezing mid-step, Sora shrinking back with a whimper.
"Look who it is," the leader snarled, voice dripping venom. "The fake hero and his little harem. Heard the rumors—you think you're hot shit now? Time to teach you and your sluts a lesson."
Kaito's aura darkened, crimson glint flashing in his eyes as he stepped forward, positioning himself between the thugs and the girls. *These worms dare threaten my court? They will learn terror.*
Yui clutched Sora's arm, voice trembling. "Onii-chan…"
Sora whispered, "Senpai… be careful…"
The fight erupted like a storm.
Leader swung first—a brutal overhead punch aimed at Kaito's head. Kaito flowed aside with ancient grace, the wind of the blow ruffling his hair, then countered with a precise palm strike to the solar plexus—air exploding from the boy's lungs as he crumpled, wheezing and clutching his chest.
Burly chain-guy charged next, fists like hammers swinging in wide arcs. Kaito ducked low, weaving through the assault like a shadow, then rose with an uppercut to the jaw—minor strength snapping the head back, teeth clacking audibly. The thug staggered, blood trickling from his lip.
Wiry bat-boy swung his weapon in a horizontal arc, aiming to crack ribs. Kaito leaped back, the bat whistling past his chest by inches, then closed the distance in a blur—grabbing the bat mid-follow-through, wrenching it free with a twist that made the boy's wrist pop. Discarded the weapon, then a knee to the gut folded him in half, retching onto the grass.
Pipe-wielder and knuckles-guy attacked tandem—pipe thrusting like a spear, knuckles following with hooks. Kaito parried the pipe with his forearm, the metal clanging off his buffed resilience like striking stone, then disarmed with a swift chop to the elbow—pipe clattering away. Knuckles connected a glancing blow to his shoulder, but Kaito absorbed it, spinning to deliver a roundhouse kick to the side—thug flying into a tree trunk with a thud, bark cracking.
Last one hesitated, eyes wide at the carnage. Kaito locked gazes—mind trick pulsing, crimson eyes boring in. "Flee or fall."
The thug bolted, leaving his groaning comrades.
Crowd had gathered—phones out, murmurs of awe. "Did you see that?" "He's like a pro fighter…"
Yui rushed forward, hugging him fiercely. "Onii-chan! You were incredible…"
Sora clung to his other side, tears streaming. "Senpai… you protected us…"
Haruka arrived panting, drawn by texts. "Holy crap… you okay? That was insane."
Kaito nodded, scanning for threats. "The realm is secure."
Authorities arrived—thugs arrested, Kaito commended for defense. Rumors exploded: his role as protector solidified.
Home that night: celebration turned intimate.
Sayuri waited in a loose blouse that draped over her early bump, visible now under soft fabrics, her hands cradling it subconsciously. Akari paced in tight shorts and a crop top, energy high from adrenaline reports. Yui bounced in excitement, pajamas already on.
Dinner shared—stories retold, touches lingering. Sayuri's foot rubbing his under the table, Akari's hand on his thigh, Yui's hugs pressing close.
Bath followed—steam-filled sanctuary, water scented with jasmine.
Undressing: Sayuri's blouse slipped off, revealing rounding belly and heavy breasts. Akari's clothes peeled away, toned body glistening. Yui's pajamas discarded, petite frame eager.
In the tub: caresses built slowly.
Sayuri straddled him first—water sloshing as she guided him inside, sinking down with a sigh, her walls warm and welcoming. Slow rocks—her bump pressing against him, breasts in his face for suckling, nipples leaking faintly as lactation stirred early.
Akari joined—positioned beside, his fingers delving between her legs, stroking her slick heat while she kissed Sayuri deeply, their tongues tangling. Akari's release came quick—body arching, clenching around fingers with gasps.
Yui watched wide-eyed, then straddled his thigh—grinding shyly, small hands on his chest. He praised softly—"So eager, my precious"—her climax a trembling wave, juices mixing with water.
Group shifted—Kaito thrusting into Sayuri steadily, hands roaming to Akari's breasts, pinching nipples until she moaned. Yui's fingers explored Sayuri's clit, tentative but effective, drawing cries.
Climaxes cascaded: Sayuri first—walls fluttering, milking him as she came with tears of joy. Akari from his touch, body shuddering. Yui from friction and kisses.
Kaito released last—deep inside Sayuri, pulses filling her as the others held him.
After: tangled in towels, emotional vows—protecting their growing family.
Victory reinforced: provider, protector, lord.