Ch 2.63 My Quiet Beach Vacation Is Actually a Government Population Initiative, as I Suspected
My Quiet Beach Vacation
Is Actually a Government Population Initiative,
as I Suspected
Story Starts
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Chapter 2.63 -
Obviously, All Scientific Progress and Governmental Reproductive Sponsors Are Entirely Above Board
Disclaimer: Everyone here is an adult!
Yukinoshita Yukino came back to herself in pieces.
First the smell—heavy musk, sweat, the sharp chemical undertone of whatever they had put in the air, and beneath it the thinner, cleaner note of the failed lavender dispenser. Then the ache. Her thighs trembled even though she was not standing. Her lower belly felt swollen and oversensitive. Something warm and sticky had dried along the inside of her legs.
A voice cut through the fog.
"Yukinoshita-san. Please. You have to wake up."
Then the sharp ammonia smell invaded her nostrils.
Kaguya.
Yukinoshita's eyes opened slowly. The overhead lights were still too bright. The mattress beneath her cheek was damp. She tried to push herself up and her arms nearly folded. Everything below her waist protested with a deep, bruised throb that made her breath hitch.
Kaguya was on all fours only a short distance away, dark hair clinging to her back in wet strands. Hikigaya was behind her, hands locked on her hips, driving into her with hard, relentless thrusts that made the entire mattress shift. The wet slap of skin against skin filled the small room. Kaguya's face was turned toward Yukinoshita, crimson eyes glassy, mouth open as she tried to speak between the impacts.
Between them lay her outstretched hand, slender digits straining toward the smelling salts that rested a few millimetres beyond her reach.
"He's already—nn—finished twice inside me," Kaguya managed, voice breaking on every other word. "The rules require the next two to be—ahh—received by you. Nakadashi. Both of them. Or the phase fails the scoring threshold. I couldn't reach the salts in time. If you manage to receive the next two we'll probably be in the lead—argh!"
Yukinoshita stared.
Her mind, usually so quick to catalogue and categorise, lagged behind the words. Scoring threshold. Nakadashi. Two more. The counter on the wall glowed an ugly red number that kept climbing with every brutal thrust Hikigaya delivered into Kaguya's body.
She tried to speak and only managed a thin, cracked sound.
Kaguya's arms were shaking. She still forced the words out.
"Kaguya might have teased Hikigaya-kun too much."
Yukinoshita turned toward a grinning Fujiwara.
"She still hasn't gotten that particular trait out of her system, and it might have tipped Hiki-kun overboard."
'Of course she did.'
Yukinoshita forced her body to obey. Every muscle in her thighs screamed as she dragged herself onto her knees. The motion sent a fresh trickle of earlier release sliding down her inner thigh. She felt open, used, and still half-numb from the three consecutive orgasms that had dragged her under. Her vision swam for a moment. She locked her jaw and crawled the short distance until she was beside Kaguya.
Hikigaya's gaze flicked to her. Those dead-fish eyes held something she rarely saw in them—determination.
Kaguya still moaned loudly beneath him, words tumbling out in contradictions: yes and no, more and stop, please and wait. Her teeth sank into her own finger whilst her other hand twisted the sheets into white-knuckled ruin.
Yukinoshita, on trembling legs, knelt up and shuffled toward Hikigaya. She lowered herself onto her back beside Kaguya, who remained on all fours, and extended her arms toward him in invitation.
He looked between Kaguya and Yukinoshita. Then gave Kaguya another thrust. Her feet bent upward from her knees, toes curling.
He slapped her arse once, then kneaded the reddened flesh.
"And what have we learned?"
"That I shouldn't tease you—too much—uhh!!"
Another thrust.
"I shouldn't tease you lightly—uhhh!"
Another.
"I should—uhhh… I'm sorry!"
Hikigaya delivered one final slap and thrust that somehow tipped her over the edge. Kaguya's entire body seized, a high keen escaping her throat as her arms finally gave out. His glistening cock pulled free of her with an obscene, wet sound.
He looked tired but also satisfied.
Yukinoshita gave him a questioning stare.
He awkwardly scratched his chin. "Uh—she was riling me up with her ojou-sama voice." He looked away, colour rising to his cheeks despite everything they had already done
Kaguya collapsed onto her side, one hand pressed between her legs as if trying to keep the previous loads from escaping. Her breathing was ragged, chest heaving.
"Hurry," Kaguya whispered. "The count is already too high."
Yukinoshita sighed. There was no point in prolonging this. "Come. We need to finish."
She spread her legs wider, and he positioned himself between them. The blunt head of his cock dragged through the slick mess coating her folds, gathering the remnants of earlier rounds, then pushed in.
She could not stop the broken sound that left her throat.
He was still thick, still almost painfully hard, and her body had not recovered enough to take him easily. The stretch burned in a way that was no longer purely pleasure. Her walls protested the intrusion even as they clenched around him, muscle memory from their earlier coupling warring with the raw tenderness left behind. He bottomed out in one long thrust and she clawed at the sheet, forehead pressing into the mattress. The fullness was overwhelming. She could feel every ridge, every vein, the heat of him seeming to radiate through her entire core.
Then he began to move.
There was no slow build this time. The pace was brutal from the first stroke, the same relentless rhythm he had used on Kaguya. Every impact drove the air from her lungs. The wet sounds were louder now—obscene squelches mixed with the slap of his hips against her thighs—layered over the soft, involuntary cries she could not fully suppress. Her oversensitive walls fluttered around him with every withdrawal, nerve endings screaming protest and pleasure in equal measure. When he slammed back in, she saw white at the edges of her vision.
"Hey! I thought you weren't allowed to help!"
Yukinoshita turned her head with effort. Kaguya was now wide awake, propped up on one elbow, glaring at Fujiwara who held the smelling salts with an unrepentant grin.
"Technically," Fujiwara said, tucking the salts away, "I didn't use them on anyway, technically, Kaguya's nose just happened to be in the immediate vicinity of the smelling salts as I popped it."
"That is not—I hate you."
Fujiwara just gave her a heart sign with both thumb and index fingers.
"Ahh!"
Whatever objection Kaguya intended to voice was cut short by Hikigaya's hand finding Yukinoshita's hip and adjusting the angle. The next thrust hit something inside her that made her spine arch off the mattress. Stars burst behind her eyes. Her fingers found the sheets again, twisting, searching for purchase against the onslaught.
Kaguya's hand found hers and laced their fingers together.
"Just a little longer," Kaguya said, voice still unsteady. "Two. Only two. You can do this."
Yukinoshita wanted to answer. She wanted to say that her legs were already shaking again, that the earlier triple climax had emptied something vital out of her, that she was not built for this kind of sustained demand. The words never formed. Another hard thrust punched a moan out of her instead, the sound embarrassingly loud in the small room.
Her body did not feel like her own anymore. It had become something foreign—a vessel of nerve endings and involuntary responses, every part of her tuned to the rhythm Hikigaya set. She could feel the earlier deposits still inside her, mixed with her own slick, being pushed deeper with each stroke. The sensation should have been mortifying. Instead it only added to the overwhelming fullness, the sense of being completely and thoroughly claimed.
'Focus. The count. The threshold.'
She forced her eyes open to check the wall display. The number climbed steadily: 1087, 1088, 1089. They were running out of pumps. If he did not finish soon—
Hikigaya leaned over her, chest pressing against her back. The new angle drove him impossibly deeper. One arm braced beside her head whilst the other wrapped around her waist, pulling her hips up to meet each thrust. His breath was hot against her ear, ragged and harsh.
"Yukino."
Her name. Not Yukinoshita. Her name, spoken in that low voice she had imagined in private moments she would never admit to.
The first of the required releases came sooner than she expected.
Hikigaya's rhythm stuttered. His grip on her hips tightened to the point of bruising. He buried himself to the root and held there, cock pulsing as he flooded her in thick, hot spurts. The sensation of being filled again—already so full from before—made her own body seize. A sharp, almost painful orgasm ripped through her with no warning, walls clamping down around him in rhythmic spasms that only seemed to draw more from him. She sobbed into the mattress, fingers crushing Kaguya's hand.
'One.'
He did not pull out.
He kept moving, slower now but no less deep, stirring the fresh mess inside her. The overstimulation was vicious. Every stroke dragged against swollen tissue. Yukinoshita's arms gave out completely. She went flat against the mattress, only her hips still held up by his hands. Kaguya shifted closer, brushing damp hair from Yukinoshita's face, murmuring soft, almost frantic encouragement that Yukinoshita could barely hear over the blood roaring in her ears.
"You're doing wonderfully. Just one more. Just one more and we'll have made it. Hold on for me."
The words should not have helped. They were meaningless platitudes delivered by someone she had only just met, someone who had been equally wrecked only minutes before. Yet Kaguya's voice was steady despite its hoarseness, her fingers gentle as they stroked Yukinoshita's cheek, and somehow that steadiness became an anchor.
Yukinoshita forced herself to breathe. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. The motions were mechanical, divorced from the chaos happening between her legs where Hikigaya continued his relentless pace.
The counter climbed: 1143, 1144, 1145.
'Not enough time. We won't make it.'
The second required release built with terrifying speed.
Hikigaya's breathing turned harsh. He adjusted his grip, pulling her hips higher, and the angle change sent fresh sparks through her already overloaded system. Each thrust now rubbed against that spot inside her, the one that made coherent thought impossible. Her third orgasm of this round—sixth overall—began building at the base of her spine, a coiling pressure that threatened to shatter her completely.
'Wait, how many did I have before round two?'
"Hachiman." The name left her lips without permission. "Please—I can't—"
"I know." His voice was strained. "Almost. Just—"
He slammed into her one final time and held.
The orgasm hit them simultaneously. Yukinoshita's vision whited out entirely. She felt him empty into her again, pulse after heavy pulse, the excess immediately beginning to leak around his cock and down her thighs in thick rivulets. Her walls convulsed around him, milking every last drop, her body acting on instinct whilst her mind floated somewhere far above, watching the whole scene with detached disbelief.
'Is this really me? Is this really happening?'
When he finally stilled, the only sound in the room was their combined breathing and the soft electronic chime from the wall.
Yukinoshita forced her eyes open.
The counter read 1202.
It no longer climbed.
Kaguya made a small, stricken noise.
Two pumps over the limit. The final release had come outside the threshold.
Yukinoshita stared at the frozen number. Her body was still trembling with aftershocks, her legs refusing to obey the simple instruction to move. She tried to push herself up and failed. The muscles had submitted their resignation and were not accepting counteroffers.
'I failed.'
The thought was quiet. Clinical. The same tone she used when receiving exam results that fell short of perfect. Ninety-eight per cent. A single careless error on question twelve. Except this was not an exam, and the error had not been careless, and there was no teacher she could petition for a remark.
Kaguya's hand was still holding hers.
"It's all right," Kaguya said quickly, though the tight edge in her voice betrayed her. "Yukinoshita-san—"
"We went over."
"By two. Two pumps. That's within the margin of—"
"We went over." Yukinoshita's voice was flat. "The limit was twelve hundred. The count reads twelve hundred and two. That is a failure by any reasonable metric."
"Metric? Limit?" Hikigaya's voice, somewhere behind her. "What limit? What are you two talking about?"
Both women ignored him.
"Wait. Has there been a rule this entire time? Has there been a rulebook? Am I the only person in this facility operating without documentation?"
They continued to ignore him. Some questions were kinder left unanswered.
Kaguya's grip tightened.
"I passed out." Yukinoshita finally managed to roll onto her side, though the motion sent fresh discomfort radiating through her lower body. "I required revival. The burden fell disproportionately on you during my absence. Whatever points my eventual participation earned were offset by the time lost whilst I was unconscious."
Somewhere behind her, she heard Hikigaya shift. The soft sound of him sitting back on his heels. Then the quiet, bewildered silence that always followed when he failed to parse the emotional weather of a room. She could have drawn his expression from memory: brow slightly furrowed, mouth half-open, a man watching two people grieve over a scoreboard he hadn't known existed.
Fujiwara's flag was no longer waving. Hayasaka's camera had powered down. The aroma dispenser gave one last weak hiss of lavender—a single soldier firing into an advancing army—and surrendered to the atmosphere it had been hopelessly outmatched by from the start.
"Yukinoshita."
Hikigaya's voice. Uncertain. Awkward in a way that was achingly familiar.
She did not turn to look at him. She could not. Not with the evidence of her inadequacy displayed in glowing red numbers on the wall. Not with the memory of crying into his chest still fresh enough to sting.
"...You did fine."
"The counter would suggest otherwise."
"The counter is a number on a wall that someone invented to gamify reproduction. It has the moral authority of a pachinko machine."
"It has a threshold, Hikigaya-kun. Thresholds exist to be met."
"It—" He stopped. She heard the sound of him rubbing the back of his neck. She knew that gesture without seeing it; he deployed it whenever sincerity was required and sarcasm had failed to report for duty. "Look. You lost consciousness because of—circumstances. Circumstances that most people would classify as the opposite of failure. There are entire industries built around achieving what you just—"
"Do not finish that sentence."
"Understood. Retracted. The point stands, though."
"The point is invalid."
"The point is that I'm not keeping score."
"The wall is keeping score."
A pause.
"...Okay, yes, the wall is literally keeping score. The wall has always been keeping score. That's a fair rebuttal." Another pause, and when he spoke again his voice had dropped into something quieter. Something that had stopped reaching for cleverness. "But I'm not the wall."
Yukinoshita's breath caught.
'Unfair. Entirely unfair. He fumbles through every conversation like a man assembling furniture without instructions, and then—then he produces a sentence like that, unplanned, unpolished, and it lands harder than anything he could have constructed deliberately. He doesn't even know he's done it. He never knows he's done it.'
'That's half the problem.'
Kaguya shifted beside her, moving until they were face to face on the ruined mattress. Her crimson eyes held a softness at odds with her usual composure.
"Listen to me." Kaguya's voice dropped, pitched low enough that perhaps Hikigaya could not hear. "This is the first event of what will apparently be many. A two-pump overage in the opening round means nothing in the larger context. There will be additional activities. Additional opportunities. This singular result does not define your standing."
"You sound like a corporate strategist."
"I was raised by corporate strategists." A ghost of a smile. "My lullabies were quarterly projections. The point stands. You performed under conditions specifically designed to be overwhelming. Your partner—" a slight glance toward Hikigaya, "—was pharmaceutically enhanced to levels that would challenge a professional. The fact that you regained consciousness and immediately returned to the task speaks to your determination."
"I cried."
"So did I, during my portion." Kaguya's hand reached up to brush a strand of hair from Yukinoshita's face. "Though I admit mine were more audible. Fujiwara was counting."
"Twelve distinct sobs," Fujiwara confirmed from somewhere behind them. "Very elegant sobs, though. Very ladylike. I gave them nine out of ten."
"What was the deduction for?"
"Kaguya-sama, you snorted on number eight."
"I did not—"
"It's on camera."
"Hayasaka. Delete the footage."
"The footage belongs to the government, Kaguya-sama." Hayasaka's tone did not change. "You'd need to file form 27-B with the programme administrator."
"The programme administrator is a nineteen-year-old with an eyepatch."
"Then I suggest attaching Komachi Points to the request. Processing is faster."
Konuki's calm voice came over the speakers.
"Phase complete. Medical evaluation in six minutes. Please remain in place for post-session monitoring."
Yukinoshita closed her eyes. The clinical announcement felt like a final punctuation mark on the entire experience. Remain in place. As though she had a choice. As though her legs were currently accepting instructions from anyone.
"Yukinoshita-san."
She opened her eyes. Kaguya was still there, still close, still watching her with that unexpectedly gentle expression.
"This programme is clearly designed to be impossible on an individual basis. The entire structure presumes cooperation. Partners working in tandem, supporting each other through the more demanding elements." Kaguya's fingers traced along Yukinoshita's jawline, feather-light. "You and I were assigned together for a reason. Perhaps the administrators saw compatible elements. Perhaps it was random chance. Either way—I intend to treat this partnership seriously."
"We just met."
"We just shared an experience that most partnerships take years to reach, and held hands throughout." Kaguya's smile widened slightly. "I believe that accelerates the usual social timeline."
"That is not a standard basis for partnership."
"Nothing about this is standard." Kaguya leaned closer. "So let us agree to be non-standard together. You cover my weaknesses. I cover yours. Neither of us faces these ridiculous tasks alone."
Yukinoshita studied her for a long moment. The offer was logical. The reasoning sound. And there was something in Kaguya's expression—a flicker of vulnerability beneath the boardroom polish—that suggested this was not merely strategic calculation. It was the expression of someone who had spent her whole life negotiating and had just realised she wanted, for once, simply to be accepted.
Yukinoshita recognised it. She'd worn it herself.
"Very well."
Kaguya's smile brightened. Then, with no warning whatsoever, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to Yukinoshita's.
The kiss was soft. Brief. Before Yukinoshita could process it, Kaguya had already pulled back, looking slightly pink herself.
"A seal on our agreement," Kaguya said, as if that explained anything.
"I— That is not how agreements are sealed. Agreements are sealed with signatures. Hanko. Witnessed documentation."
"The Shinomiya Group seals its most important agreements in person." Kaguya turned, then, and looked at Hikigaya—who had been watching the entire exchange with the expression of a man who'd wandered into the wrong meeting and was too polite to leave. "And our agreement concerns him. So."
"So?"
"So he should also receive the seal. For legal completeness."
"That is not—"
But Kaguya had already leaned across and kissed him. Brief. Businesslike. The corporate handshake of kisses.
Hikigaya made a sound like a kettle being switched off mid-boil.
Kaguya settled back and looked at Yukinoshita expectantly. Yukinoshita looked at Hikigaya. Hikigaya looked at a fixed point on the far wall with the desperate focus of a man attempting to astral project.
'Legal completeness,' Yukinoshita thought. 'She has constructed a contractual framework in which kissing him is a notarisation requirement. The Shinomiya Group's legal department has much to answer for.'
She kissed him anyway. Briefly. For legal completeness.
His ears went red. Hers, she suspected, matched.
"Yaho!"
The familiar greeting cut through the room like a cheerful knife. Yukinoshita turned her head—a motion that cost more than it should have—to see Yuigahama Yui standing in the doorway. Her usual warm smile was firmly in place, though her eyes had gone very wide as they took in the scene: two women tangled together on a ruined mattress, Hikigaya sitting to one side with the posture of a man awaiting sentencing, and the general devastation of a room that had thoroughly earned its six-minute medical intermission.
Beside her stood Sarashina Ruka—chestnut hair, sharp eyes, an expression that combined assessment and amusement in precisely equal measure.
"Oh," Yuigahama said, her voice going slightly higher than normal. "Oh wow. That's. Um." Her gaze made a full circuit of the room, catalogued everything, and returned visibly changed by the journey. "That's a lot."
"The counter says 1202," Ruka observed. "Impressive stamina."
"The limit was 1200," Yukinoshita said flatly.
"Ah." Ruka nodded slowly, absorbing this with the gravity of a physician reviewing a chart. "Unfortunate timing, then."
"Thank you. Finally, someone who understands the significance of—"
"Still impressive stamina, though."
"That is not the relevant metric."
"It's relevant to me," Yuigahama muttered, apparently to herself. Her gaze had drifted toward Hikigaya, then to the counter, then to some middle distance where the mathematics of her own upcoming slot presumably lived. Whatever she found there made her squeak.
"Yui-senpai and I are up next," Ruka clarified, since her partner had temporarily left service. "We came to prepare."
"The room does require preparation," Kaguya agreed mildly. "We appear to have exceeded the expected parameters."
Yuigahama made a small, strangled noise.
Ruka just smiled. One hand rose to rest against her own sternum—that habitual gesture, pressing against her heart—and her eyes moved from the mattress to Yuigahama to Hikigaya with the calm of a specialist who had reviewed the case file and found it survivable.
"Six minutes," she said, to no one in particular. "We should stretch."
"Stretch?"
"Athletes stretch, Yui-senpai."
"I'm not an athlete! This isn't a sport!"
From the mattress, without lifting her head, Yukinoshita said: "There is a scoreboard, a time limit, and a live audience. I regret to inform you that it is a sport."
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End
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