All Beautiful Girls Want to Stick with Me

Kotomi Izumi and Kazumi ultimately failed to come up with a good way to manage the Queen of All Females side effects. Throughout their discussion, Kazumi repeatedly hinted that if no method could be found, she’d be willing to help Kotomi release those side effects herself~

Her level of hinting was practically screaming ”Let me do it!”

And yet, what baffled Kazumi—who was the system itself—was that no matter how many times she set up the perfect opening, as if preparing to land a decisive strike, Kotomi always just barely dodged it by smoothly changing the subject. Every time, it felt like her punches were landing on cotton.

If it were unintentional, that would be fine. But Kazumi couldn’t shake the feeling that Kotomi’s precisely timed topic shifts weren’t a coincidence. In other words, Kotomi very likely understood her hints... and was just pretending not to.

Master Kotomi truly is a genius at playing dumb.

With that thought, Kazumi puffed her cheeks in frustration. If Kotomi had just obediently agreed earlier, there’d be no need to keep struggling to come up with a solution. Yet here they were, still empty-handed.

Kazumi was so annoyed she nearly revealed her true form right then and there. Forget consent—forced solutions might not be sweet, but they do quench thirst. She was on the verge of educating Kotomi with some good old-fashioned tentacle therapy.

”Fine, think it over yourself. I’m going back to sleep.”

Hearing the shower shut off in the bathroom, Kazumi realized Mashiro Shiina would be out any moment. She quickly stood up but still grumbled bitterly.

Then, without another word, she leaned in and lightly touched noses with Kotomi. A swirl of soft pink-blue light shimmered—and Kazumi disappeared back into Kotomi’s body.

Thinking back on Kazumi’s sulky little expression before disappearing, Kotomi couldn’t help but laugh. She really was a genius at pretending not to notice. Kazumi’s hints were so blatant—how could she possibly miss them?

There was no need for a dozen signals.

The first time Kazumi whispered she could help relieve the Queen of All Females side effects, Kotomi had already understood perfectly.

And how would she help? Obviously... through intimate skinship.

At first, Kotomi had been tempted to agree. When Kazumi leaned close and whispered it in her ear, there was something bewitching in her voice that nearly made Kotomi nod without a second thought.

Snapping back to her senses, she’d broken into a cold sweat.

She’d almost fallen for it right then and there.

All of Kazumi’s subsequent hints? Kotomi had deliberately ignored every one. She was deeply touched by Kazumi’s concern, but her ”solution” wasn’t really any different from the ones the other girls might offer—it still required, well... going all the way.

Kotomi’s legs involuntarily rubbed together, her face flushing a soft, wine-like red.

”My first time...”

The thought left her heart fluttering in a swirl of conflicted emotions.

”Kotomi, I’m done with my bath!”

Fresh out of the bathroom, Mashiro Shiina called out. She’d taken a bit longer because she needed time to dry her hair. Meanwhile, Kotomi had finished packing both their suitcases.

Originally, she’d only intended to pack her own. After all, she didn’t know if Mashiro would be okay with her going through her personal things—it was a matter of privacy.

But when she explained her hesitation, Mashiro answered without a second thought, ”Help me pack? If it’s you, Kotomi, I don’t mind at all. Thank you, Kotomi!”

It was only in front of Kotomi that Mashiro let down all her guard. Kotomi wasn’t sure if she should feel happy... or a little overwhelmed.

Out of everything this trip to Kyoto had revealed, the clearest takeaway was undoubtedly this:

Mashiro Shiina’s feelings for her were unmistakable.

Mashiro… she’s liked me for a long time now…

Every time Kotomi thought about this, she let out a long, ambiguous sigh. And yet, whenever the thought of Mashiro liking her crossed her mind, an unassuming but undeniably radiant smile would form on her lips.

”Alright, go lie down on the bed first. Don’t catch a cold.”

Even though the presidential suite was kept at the most comfortable temperature, Kotomi couldn’t help but say it out of habit. It reminded her of how Aimi used to run barefoot into her room after a bath when they were little.

Even though it was already bedtime, Aimi would always want to play with Kotomi—if only for a bedtime story, she had to spend some time in Kotomi’s room before sleeping.

Young Kotomi, worried that freshly bathed Aimi might catch a cold, would always tell her: ”Go lie on the bed first.”

So, whether they were playing games or reading stories, everything happened on Kotomi’s bed.

What was curious, though, was that Aimi would be full of energy while playing games, but the moment it was time to return to her own room, she’d become sleepy and doze off. In just a blink, Kotomi would turn around to find Aimi curled up on her pillow, fast asleep.

Even though Kotomi ate a lot as a child, she was tiny and not very strong—carrying even a few books made her wobble like a baby penguin. Naturally, she wasn’t capable of carrying Aimi back to her room. So she’d just cover her with a blanket, and the two of them would sleep in the same bed.

Once. Then twice. Eventually, it became a regular thing.

There was even a period when Aimi would sleep in Kotomi’s room every night.

Kotomi had always been a bit of a hopeless older sister, relying on Aimi more than the other way around. But in her heart, Aimi was her precious little sister—someone she wanted to protect no matter what.

Ever since her early kindergarten days, one nickname had followed Kotomi everywhere: ”Terminal-stage little sister complex.”

She had been a little embarrassed when she first heard the term, but after a while, she just embraced it. She couldn’t go three sentences without mentioning her sister. During kindergarten naps, she would even beg the teacher to let her borrow the phone so she could call home just to hear Aimi’s voice.

Even the teachers—and eventually the principal—grew used to it.

Kotomi gave the suitcases one last check. This was probably the first time she had ever packed a suitcase on her own. She rarely traveled, so she’d had little need for one. Even when she did, Aimi had always packed it for her.

Looking at her first self-packed suitcase, Kotomi chuckled with pride. Then she took the unicorn hammer she’d been keeping in her coat pocket and tucked it back into the bottom of the suitcase.

Ever since she’d been stalked by a murderer, Kotomi never went anywhere without that hammer. In private, she’d often practice using it alone, figuring out how to maximize its effectiveness.

Thanks to the Queen of All Females constitution, Kotomi may not have been a kendo expert, but when it came to hammer-wielding? She was a queen. With that unicorn hammer, she was undefeated—anyone who stood in her way was doomed.

Even a casual swing from her could slice the air with a deafening crack. A regular person wouldn’t stand a chance. They might literally drop dead on the spot.

One strike to decide life and death—ghosts flee before her.

The sheer destructive beauty Kotomi displayed when wielding that hammer even made Kazumi nervous.

Thinking about that, Kotomi sighed internally:

I’m not someone who likes violence. I just thought I was too weak... so I learned a hundred ways to use a hammer for self-defense—or, well, murder. I didn’t mean to take it this far...

If the God-Level Heroine System interface had a skill level related to hammer usage, Kotomi might not be at max level—but level 85 wouldn’t be an exaggeration.

The past three days in Kyoto had passed peacefully. Tomorrow, she’d be taking the Shinkansen back home. With nothing dangerous expected, Kotomi finally felt safe enough to pack the unicorn hammer away in her suitcase.

No one—not even Kazumi—knew she always carried that hammer around.

Well… maybe Kazumi did know. Every time Kotomi saw her expression, even if Kazumi didn’t say a word, Kotomi could pretty much guess what she was thinking. The fact that she walked around with a hidden hammer, ready to draw it at a moment’s notice, made her look more like a villain from a horror novel than anything else!

But I’m the weak one here! Kotomi thought, feeling wronged. Still, she couldn’t deny the truth—carrying a hammer all the time did make her seem like a villain. So, into the suitcase it went.

”That said, I feel uneasy without a hammer when I go out. But if I carry it and someone notices, it’d definitely raise eyebrows... Hmm, maybe I should ask Kazumi if the system has some sort of storage function? Like an inventory screen where I can stash stuff.”

Kotomi muttered in an extremely low voice—the kind only Kazumi or she could hear.

And right on cue, from within her, Kazumi’s voice rang out loudly and firmly:

”Nope!”

Seriously?! Since when has this pink-haired goddess been eavesdropping?!

”You didn’t have to shut me down that hard...”

”No means no, Kotomi.”

”Aren’t you supposed to be a system?”

”Even systems have limits. Inventory-type storage spaces? Those are luxury features! Especially the ones that can carry infinite gear, like a fourth-dimensional treasure bag? Only top-tier systems get that stuff. Even if you scored perfect marks on every exam, it wouldn’t be enough to qualify.”

Kotomi thought for a moment, then muttered:

”So even systems have social classes...”

”Exactly.”

”Still, aren’t you kind of useless? You can’t even give me a place to put my hammer. I’m so hurt. You should compensate me with, like, a hundred thousand Fame Points.”

Kazumi: ”...”

Speechless.

She’d heard of systems exploiting their hosts, but this was the first time she’d seen a host squeeze the system for perks. Kotomi might be the only person in the world who could shamelessly extort her system.

Kazumi didn’t want to talk to her anymore.

Still, before drifting off to sleep, she quietly sent Kotomi 100 Fame Points.

If Kotomi had caught her hint earlier and agreed to it... maybe that number would’ve come with another zero.

After Kotomi finished her bath, she returned to the room and found Mashiro Shiina already lying in bed, seemingly fast asleep. Kotomi tiptoed around, quietly turned off all the lights, and gently slipped into bed beside her.

Mashiro’s steady breathing suggested she was sound asleep. It was late, and Kotomi didn’t linger. She plugged in her phone and closed her eyes.

She always fell asleep quickly—head on the pillow, eyes closed, and within ten seconds she’d be dreaming.

Just before she drifted off, Kotomi opened her mouth slightly and whispered. Whether Mashiro—”asleep”—heard or not, she didn’t know:

”Good night, Mashiro. I had a really great time spending these past three days in Kyoto with you.”

With those final words, Kotomi completely surrendered to sleep. Even without hugging Kazumi, her sleep quality was usually excellent.

The presidential suite was quiet at night. Outside, the starry sky seemed so peaceful and gentle—it made one want to pull up the covers and drift off to sleep.

No one knew how much time had passed.

From beside Kotomi came the sound of faint movement.

It was Mashiro Shiina, who had been pretending to be asleep. She slowly and carefully sat up in bed, the sound of her nightgown rustling against the blanket echoing softly.

Mashiro turned over and climbed on top of Kotomi. Her serene, gentle eyes gazed calmly down at the girl beneath her. With her left hand, she gently ran her fingers along Kotomi’s arms and legs. Then, with a soft breath, her cherry-colored lips parted:

”Good night, Kotomi.”

And with that, Mashiro leaned down.

Their lips met once more.

This was their first goodnight kiss.

Kotomi dreamt she was in a candy house, eating sweets and cake all night long. It wasn’t until her phone alarm rang that she slowly woke from the delicious dream.

With practiced ease, she silenced the alarm with one hand. Then she smacked her lips, blinking in surprise as she opened her still-drowsy eyes, a little dazed.

She swallowed, feeling like something was off.

”Did I eat something sweet before bed? Why is there this faint, fragrant sweetness in my mouth...? Am I imagining it?

I dreamed about a candy house… don’t tell me I sleepwalked?

Did I get up in the middle of the night and sneak a snack? If that’s the case, am I... a closet glutton?!”

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