99. With Aki, in Japan. (1)

“……Haaah.”

I sighed deeply, and drew Aki close.

Once with the mouth.

Once by lifting.

Once in the futon.

…Having done it three more times like that, I’ve reached my physical limit.

Having thrown myself into the heated moment the instant I woke, without so much as a bite, I was drenched, every inch of me slick with sweat. A peculiar sweetness lingered on my tongue. Only after strenuous exercise did I usually taste such a thing, meaning I was that depleted.

“He-ack, he-ack…”

Aki seemed no different, her forehead pressed against my chest, only the tip of her tongue peeking out as she panted.

Her face was crimson, as were the nape of her neck and the edges of her ears. The hands wrapped around my back trembled slightly; she was truly exhausted, it seemed.

Well, perhaps I had been a bit…intense.

“…Are you alright?”

I felt guilty seeing her so drained. I placed my hand on Aki’s slender waist, gently caressing it.

As if taking it as a signal from me, Aki startled, lifting her head.

“…?!”

Her face was as red as a beet. Though she didn’t speak, her eyes seemed to say, ‘After *all* that, you want to…again?!’

*Not like that,* I whispered, calming her, *just touching.* I softly stroked the curve of her waist.

Aki, still a little uncertain, maintained her guard. But as I continued to merely caress her slender waist without further advances, she gradually relaxed.

“…Unn.”

She snuggled deeper into my embrace, as if asking for more.

Seeing her so completely unguarded, a mischievous impulse welled up inside me. I gently stroked Aki’s waist, wondering if it was possible for it to be *this* narrow, and asked,

“Aki, what’s your size?”

“Why do you ask that all of a sudden…?”

“Just…curious.”

With only the slightest exaggeration, Aki’s waist was maybe half the size of my own.

And earlier, when I lifted her up, my hands could wrap around her entire waist with room to spare, my thumbs overlapping top and bottom.

Which meant Aki’s waist circumference was smaller than the span of my two hands combined, and considering my hands were on the larger side, it was probably in the early to mid-20s.

“I haven’t measured recently, so it’s not accurate, but…”

*Thump.*

Aki lightly cupped her left br*east with her hand.

“Well, my br*easts…a 65J bra is a tight fit…”

“…Uh?”

“My waist was a 21 last time I checked, but it’s probably around 22 or 23 now. I gained a bit of weight after the college entrance exam, going out for snacks with you, darling…”

Aki mumbled, her face flushing slightly.

It seemed she felt embarrassed confessing she had gained weight.

Honestly…

From where I was standing.

All I heard was that her br*easts were now overflowing her 65J bra.

“……”

Well, that explains it… No matter how tightly I grabbed, there was still so much left, spilling out all over the place.

So, to behold such an astounding sight, one’s chest must be around 65J. A crucial fact I’m learning.

“And what about, Husband’s…?”

“Huh? Me?”

“Uh-huh, Husband’s size….”

“I’m a 30, but these days I’ve gained muscle and a bit of weight, so…”

I was about to say I was considering moving up to a 32 when.

Aki shook her head, back and forth.

“No, not that… …This.”

“……”

My words caught in my throat.

I never imagined she’d ask *that*…

“…Ho-how many centimeters?”

“…I don’t know.”

How many centimeters was it again?

She’s talking with her hand on her chest, but I’ve never actually taken a ruler to it. So I can’t say for certain how many centimeters it is… But, the distance from my wrist to the tip of my middle finger is 24cm. I know this because, after the college entrance exam, my friends and I measured the size of our hands with a ruler and compared them.

“Like, 20 centimeters…?”

“……”

My hand length is 24cm.

The length of *that*, which Aki is asking about, is roughly similar to the length of my hand.

Which means….

“…You said your waist is around 23, right?”

“Uh-huh, yeah…?”

“Mine, is probably around that too….”

“…Gasp.”

Aki gasped.

And then she started glancing at my thing, then staring at her own waist, comparing them…

That was… subtly embarrassing for me, so I gave Aki’s behind a light pat and said,

“…How could you even compare the two?”

“Ah, can’t I…?”

“Of course not. The numbers are the same, but the units are different…”

I gave Aki’s bottom a soft squeeze, the dolt.

Aki made a small, restrained hiss, then lightly punched my pectoral muscle.

“…Pervert.”

“I suppose I am a pervert…?”

Saying it like that makes me sound like a real one, but Aki calling me a pervert is… somewhat arousing.

What to say? Maybe I want to tease Aki, who is blushing because of me, to draw out more of that seemingly unpleasant reaction, just to see it…?

I chuckled, pulling Aki into a hug. And gave that bottom a firm squeeze.

“How did you know, missy with the plump derriere?”

“…Honey, that sounded *genuinely* perverted just now.”

“…….”

Her reaction is too adorable to bear.

I hugged Aki even tighter, pressing our navels together, and gently placed my hand beneath her chin, making her look up at me.

And then, I leaned down and k*ssed her.

Softly aligning my lips with hers, following the navels, I gently kneaded Aki’s behind while our tongues entwined.

“Ugh, unh…”

“…….”

“Eung…. Mmm….”

“…….”

“…Smack. …k*ss.”

“……Aki.”

“Un…?”

“Should we do it again…?”

“…Smack, without eating?”

“…….”

We’re still hungry, that’s right.

Only belatedly did that fact register, and I broke the k*ss.

Then, Aki, eyes half-melted with longing, gazed at me in silence…. A desire rose within me, a ravenous urge to throw aside decorum and claim her then and there, but I bit it back, staunchly resisting as I gently wiped the trace of s*liva from the corner of her lips.

“…Then, shall we eat first?”

“Ah, yes. …B-but, before that.”

Aki cautiously grasped my wrist.

“I t-think I should wash up. Sir Husband, on your thigh…”

A furtive glance.

Aki’s eyes flickered downwards, indicating my lower half.

“S-something white is… there…”

“…Ah.”

* * *

Precisely thirty minutes later.

After washing, hastily tidying the battleground that was our futon, and restoring ourselves to some semblance of presentability, we emerged from the suite at a leisurely pace.

To the female employee who greeted us on our way out, inquiring if we had a pleasant night, I could only manage an awkward smile. We headed directly to the dining hall to assuage our gnawing hunger.

Normally, the hours for meals would have passed, and we’d have to wait until evening. However, Aki, being the granddaughter of the ryokan’s owner, was not bound by such temporal restrictions. The menu was none other than a special omakase crafted by a sushi master.

According to Aki, this chef was one of the most renowned artisans in all of Japan…. As I held a distinct lack of interest in sushi, I wasn’t familiar with his name. (Though the taste, of course, was undeniable. Exceedingly so.)

Anyway, having finished our meal in such a manner, we went to pay our respects to Aki’s grandmother.

We’d exchanged basic introductions the previous day, but her grandmother was occupied, and we hadn’t managed a proper conversation. This was to be a chance to finally share our stories.

Guided by another female employee, we ascended to the second floor, where the staff quarters were located, and carefully entered the room where her grandmother resided.

But.

“Grandmother, I’m sorry. Are we too late…?”

“……”

Her grandmother, without acknowledging our greeting, stared intently at Aki.

For a moment, I panicked. ‘Is she angry because we came so late…?’ I thought, fearing the worst.

“…My little pup. Come here, would you?”

Her grandmother quietly beckoned Aki closer, then whispered something inaudible to me into her ear.

“Your father and… his sweetheart, used to frequent it when they were courting…”

“Ah, y-yes….”

“It’s about ten minutes from here…. They say it’s very efficacious…”

“…….”

“Be careful driving, and take care of yourselves. Understood?”

“…Yes. I’ll be going now.”

Aki slowly rises from her seat.

Judging by the looks, their conversation seemed to be over, but they spoke in such hushed, small voices that I couldn’t understand a thing. Not even a clue.

“Let’s go, my dear…”

“Huh? Already? I just got here?”

Fl*stered, I looked at her grandmother.

I thought it was too soon to leave, even though I had greeted her yesterday, but rather than stop us, she gestured for me to hurry on our way.

“Ah, well… we’ll be going then…?”

I bowed my head deeply in farewell.

Her grandmother, as if she’d said all she needed to, sipped her green tea, and I, still bewildered, left the room with Aki.

“Is it alright to leave so soon?”

“Mmm, it’s fine. Grandmother told me to go to the shrine before it gets too late…”

“Shrine visit?”

“Oh, you probably don’t know about that, do you, my dear…?”

Aki snuggled her arm around mine. And in a soft, even voice, she began to explain.

“A shrine is a place where gods are enshrined, and a visit is when you go to the shrine to pray. You know, how in dramas or movies, people clap twice in front of a Buddha statue and bow their heads? That’s a visit.”

“Oh, so that’s what you call it?”

“Mmm, that’s right. But the way you visit is different at each shrine. Some you bow once, some twice. Some you clap and bow. The one we’re going to, we just clap twice.”

“I see. But where is the shrine we’re going to? Is it famous?”

“I don’t know if it’s famous… but it’s close by. It shouldn’t take more than twenty minutes, at most.”

“You’ve been there before, Aki?”

Of course, she knows, that’s why she is explaining things to me. I asked casually, and Aki held my arm tighter.

“Yeah, I went about two years ago when I came here on a family trip. Because that shrine is where Papa and Mama used to go to pray a lot before I was born. You could say it’s a place of memories, or something like that?”

“Oh, really?”

“Mmm, really. They say they’re good at blessing you with a baby…”

“Huh? What was that?”

“…Oh, it’s nothing.”

Aki quickly swallowed her words.

I have enough sense to realize that Aki is hiding something from me. But even if I asked what she was hiding, she wouldn’t tell me, would she?

If I probed just right, she might spill it. But since I’ll probably find out when we get to the shrine, I just kept my mouth shut.

“Ah, anyway…. If we go late, the sun might set, so let’s hurry…!”

“…Right, let’s go.”

We changed from our yukatas into our outdoor clothes and left the ryokan.

Our destination was, of course, the shrine that Aki’s mother and father often frequented. Just as Aki had said, it wasn’t too far away; we were able to arrive in about fifteen minutes on foot.

“Darling…! This way. If you go up here, you’ll reach it.”

“The shrine is on a mountain…?”

“Mm-hm, it’s up there. But not too much… Ah, before going up, let’s give our respects first!”

“Respects? …Like this?”

“Yes, good job…! Now, let’s go up.”

The entrance was at the foot of the mountain, a faded torii gate, weathered by time, marking the boundary.

Aki walked beside me, side by side, ascending the stone steps, explaining this and that for me, who knew so little about Japanese culture. For example, one must show respect upon arriving at the torii, the shrine’s main gate; one shouldn’t walk in the center of the path leading to the main hall; and one must offer a donation when praying.

“I understand everything else, but why can’t you walk in the center?”

“The gods walk in the middle of the path. A living person shouldn’t walk in the center…!”

“Ah….”

I continued to climb the stairs, listening to interesting trivia. For about five minutes.

I’d heard that there were roughly 200,000 to 300,000 shrines in Japan, and that each shrine enshrined a different god. Just as I was hearing about this, the end of the stairs came into view.

“That’s it over there, right?”

Having finally climbed all the stairs, I pointed to a wooden building and asked. That must be the shrine’s main hall, but the overall atmosphere was similar to, yet slightly different from, temples in Korea.

For example, there was that woman over there wearing flowing robes. Temples usually have monks, but this shrine had a woman sweeping the floor with a broom instead of a monk.

Her top was white and her skirt was red; she seemed to be a shrine maiden guarding the shrine. But what was surprising was that she looked about our age……

“…Eh?!”

Just then, Aki’s eyes widened.

“Could it be, Mia-chan…?!”

“……?”

The shrine maiden lifted her head.

The shrine maiden, broom in hand, tilted her head and looked at us……

“…Oh, Aki-chan?”

Her eyes widened just like Aki’s.

“Aki, do you know that person?”

“Mm-hm, that’s right. That’s Mia-chan, a friend I’ve been very close with since I was little…!”

“Ah, really…?”

Which meant, this Mia-chan, the shrine maiden, was Aki’s Japanese childhood friend… or something?

“Aki-chan, right…?”

“Yup yup, that’s right! Mia-chan…!”

“Uwaaa, Aki-chan…!”

Mia-chan, as she was called, the shrine maiden, suddenly embraced Aki.

“What brings you here, what brings you here…!”

It was a sudden hug, but Aki didn’t seem fl*stered at all, returning the shrine maiden’s embrace.

“Aki-chan, Aki-chan…!”

“Heh…. Mia-chan, it’s been almost two years since we last saw each other, hasn’t it…?”

“That’s right…! Almost two years…! Aki-chan, what have you been up to…?!”

“Hmm, Atashi is….”

“…….”

Awkward.

I was the only one who felt a little awkward at this sudden reunion between friends.

They were greeting each other with such glee, embracing tightly, and it felt weird to b*tt in, but also weird to pretend I didn’t notice them. I was pretty much a sack of forgotten barley, suppressing my presence as I waited quietly.

“Ah, but….”

After waiting for about a minute like that, the shrine maiden, who was chatting intimately with Aki, glanced at me. Then, she turned her gaze back to Aki.

“Aki-chan, who is this gentleman…?”

“Ah, it’s nice to meet you. I am….”

I was about to introduce myself as, ‘Aki’s boyfriend.’

“……Ah, let me introduce you!”

*Thwack-*

Aki linked arms with me.

“This is Woo-joo~chan, Atashi’s husband…!”

“…….”

“……Ehhh?!”