When Millie finished with the laundry and came out of the bathroom, she saw Alain in the living room, looking dejected and heartbroken.
Seeing him , the young woman sighed silently.
While she was alone earlier, she had also thought things through. Perhaps Alain had a really important use for her game controller.
It was just that, in the heat of the moment, he had grabbed her short skirt along with it.
The main thing was, she had carefully sniffed her skirt in the bathroom earlier and didn't detect even a hint of that particular smell people talked about online.
"Alain…" Millie walked over to him and tugged his sleeve. She found him still muttering to himself like a zombie.
"Heh. My efficiency is very high."
The young woman lowered her head and apologized.
Seeing him still in a daze, as if his mind was elsewhere, she glanced at the bulge in his pants.
"You… you didn't actually… do it just now, did you?"
"…Do what? Where would I find the time?"
Her good bro's gaze finally refocused, and he slumped onto the sofa as if all strength had left his body.
Alain briefly and appropriately explained what had just happened.
"Eh? You mean… on the computer screen, that human-headed spider from last time appeared?"
Millie looked at the game controller in her hands again. "You took this thing just to defeat the enemy?"
The young woman felt waves of guilt rising within her.
Although Alain was trying to protect that "other dimension's" pocket-sized Mita, wasn't he, in reality, also protecting her and her best friend?
After reaching this conclusion, a dark sense of guilt even clouded her face.
"I'm really, really sorry…"
She kept her head down, her eyes only able to glimpse the hidden little Alain.
It was true. After she came to Alain's house, it seemed like his "grand undertaking" had never succeeded.
As this thought occurred to her, Millie's hand gripping the game controller trembled for a moment.
At least, she couldn't be the one to do it. Not to mention whether their relationship had even reached that point…
She definitely couldn't go behind her best friend's back…
But how could she compensate Alain?
An idea flashed through the young woman's mind. Yes, it was definitely not okay for her to do it herself.
But Millie had forgotten that she was now her bro's wingman in love!
Having reached this conclusion, the gloom on her face cleared up like a storm passing, replaced by a bright and cheerful expression.
"Bro! I know a way for you to have a really good time!"
Then, before his eyes, Millie, like a knight heading onto the battlefield, strode quickly towards Misha's bedroom.
Just as she was closing the door, she gave him a "just as planned" look.
What did that mean? Alain didn't understand.
The two young women stayed in the room for five minutes, and he didn't know what they were discussing.
Soon, with Misha's cry of "Ehh—?!", Millie walked out of the room.
"Anyway, good luck, bestie!"
"B-but… I'm not mentally prepared at all?!"
Thud—Millie didn't wait for her best friend's reply and closed the door.
The young woman walked over to him, took Alain's hand, and pulled him up from the sofa.
"Alright, my bed isn't that comfortable, you know," she whispered in his ear.
"Go back to your bed!"
At the last moment, the young woman half-pushed the young man's back, guiding him to the bedroom door.
"Good luck, my good bro~"
The door opened, then closed.
Inside the bedroom, besides Misha, there was now Alain.
He slowly turned his head, still not quite understanding the situation,
when his eyes met those of the young woman on the bed.
Misha's face still carried a lingering blush, and it seemed she hadn't quite recovered from Millie's pep talk.
Then, she took a deep breath, opened the covers, and patted the space beside her.
"I don't quite understand what's going on, but come here for now."
Alain knew very well that in Misha's current state, she definitely couldn't "battle" with him.
Even if little Alain sometimes got the upper hand in his thoughts, both big Alain and little Alain understood one thing:
His feelings for them were not just physical.
Driven by this thought, he lay down under the covers. Misha gently tucked him in.
The two of them lay down together, staring at the ceiling.
A silent atmosphere drifted gently, filling their line of sight.
Alain was the first to speak. "How's your body feeling?"
Entering the game seemed to be a dive of consciousness. Alain didn't understand if the in-game state would carry over from reality.
He could see out of the corner of his eye that as soon as he spoke, the young woman's face twitched slightly.
Soon, realizing Alain was talking to her, she replied,
"Mm... my stomach still hurts a little. Tomorrow's mission…"
"Right, about that." Alain turned his head and looked at her seriously.
"Tomorrow, you should get some proper rest."
"Eh?" Misha heard the implication in Alain's words and thought it was her fault.
But then she heard him continue,
"If you continue with me in your current condition… I'll feel distressed."
"After all—" Alain's tone shifted, and he looked back at the ceiling, a smile playing on his lips.
"I'm still waiting for my dear to be in perfect condition to go with me to the Civil Affairs Bureau and get our marriage certificate."
Misha stared blankly at his side profile, a warmth flowing from her heart to her lips.
"You haven't forgotten? I thought that was just a joke between us."
"Hmm? So it was a joke?"
Alain pretended to look shocked at her, but his eyes were clearly full of playfulness, making the young woman chuckle.
"How could it be a joke? My affection for my dear Alain, from the very beginning—"
Her hand, which had been resting on the covers, slipped underneath.
"—has been at maximum."
After she said this, she gradually recalled the advice Millie had given her when she came into the room.
["You need to properly reward your hardworking bro. You have no idea… just now… when he was using you as spellcasting material, he was interrupted by the monster on the screen."]
"Reward… you mean?" Misha had wondered at the time. Her first thought was: to make a meal for Alain.
By the way, spellcasting material was…?
Then she heard Millie whisper those three words in her ear, vividly forming her hand into a ring and showing it in her peripheral vision.
Bringing her thoughts to the present, she exhaled a breath of embarrassed heat, a bright smile still on her lips as she gazed at Alain's side profile.
Misha slid her hands under the blanket, first gliding over Alain's stomach, feeling his warmth and the rhythm of his breathing.
Her eyes were fixed on Alain's face—one eyebrow arched as his skin made a soft, subtle sound.
She slowly lifted Alain's shirt, feeling his chest rise and fall at a gradually quickening pace.
She decided not to overthink it, afraid she might lose her nerve. So she slipped her hand into Alain's pants and, in an instant, grasped something long and throbbing.
And he, suffering the most direct attack, suddenly felt his weak point assaulted and subconsciously looked towards Misha.
She mouthed the words:
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