"Rita, you're a pathetic weakling."
"...Pa... Pathetic weakling!? What do you mean by that?"
Rita had never imagined she would hear such an evaluation from Mashiro's lips.
Although she wasn't entirely sure of the specific nuances of "zako," she knew it wasn't a compliment.
"It means Rita's body is too weak. You couldn't even hold out for thirty seconds."
Mashiro held the 'Magic Sword' massager, clicking the power switch on and off repeatedly.
"Miss Aoyama... how... how long can she hold out?"
Mashiro held up a single index finger. "At least a minute."
"Miss Aoyama has a boyfriend, so she's clearly experienced..."
Rita could no longer maintain her facade of composed elegance.
"This was my very first time experiencing such a sensation."
"Then shall we go for a few more rounds?"
Click! Mashiro turned it on again.
The intense buzzing sound made Rita instinctively clamp her thighs together.
Having lasted thirty seconds just now, Rita estimated twenty seconds would be her absolute limit this time.
"No! No more! Mashiro, you've already memorized what I look like, right? That's enough!"
Mashiro nodded and didn't push further.
The fact that Rita had agreed to perform for her today was already beyond Mashiro's expectations.
Pushing her too hard might cause a backlash.
Rita hurriedly used tissues to wipe her thighs, her lower abdomen, and even Mashiro's face.
She had noticed earlier that the violently vibrating 'Magic Sword' had splashed quite a bit of her saliva onto Mashiro.
The thought of Mashiro smelling her juices made Rita's brain tremble with shame.
Why has Mashiro become such a perverted girl after only a few months in Japan?
No, that wasn't right.
Rita immediately dismissed the thought.
Mashiro, whose head was filled only with art, couldn't possibly have developed a love for lewd things in such a short time.
Mashiro was still Mashiro—the girl who would sacrifice anything for the sake of her art.
This was merely "gathering source material" to her.
That's right, it's just research. It's not actually something perverted.
After getting dressed, Rita took several deep breaths.
Aside from a faint cherry-blossom flush on her cheeks, there was no trace of what had just happened.
Only the wet massager resting on the side served as a constant reminder of the ordeal.
Mashiro, however, acted as if nothing had happened.
"Rita, do you plan to draw manga?"
"I..." Faced with the question, Rita hesitated. She felt her hands beginning to shake.
Should I pick up the brush again? Should I dare to pick it up in front of Mashiro? Am I ready to lose to her again and be ruthlessly crushed by her talent?
Painting was Rita's life. Painting was her very reason for existing.
But in the face of the despair Mashiro provided, none of that mattered.
Rin Ito had told her to pick up the brush—not in the world of oil painting, but to defeat Mashiro in the realm of manga.
Can I really do it?
Should I pick up the brush now?
Must I experience that crushing despair one more time?
Rita's right hand, the one meant for holding a pen, clenched into a tight fist.
The flush on her cheeks and lips drained away, leaving her face pale.
"Rita?"
Mashiro's confused voice snapped Rita back to reality.
Rita looked at her... a genius just does what she wants, never fearing failure because she never fails. That was a true genius.
"I..." Rita swallowed hard. "I haven't decided yet."
"Mmm."
Mashiro saw that Rita was acting strange, but she didn't know how to comfort her, so she simply nodded.
"When you've decided, we will draw together."
"Okay..."
Seeing Rita agree, Mashiro said nothing more and returned to her computer to continue her work.
Rita slumped into her chair, feeling a sense of relief.
Fearing failure before even beginning... retiring was definitely the right choice.
I... I really don't deserve to be called a genius like Mashiro.
At the same time, Nanami's mood had improved significantly after Rin Ito's "comfort."
After all, Mashiro really did want her to use her time for voice acting and game recording instead of caretaking.
Nanami knew that was true, even if she suspected Mashiro had other little schemes.
But today, Nanami had no energy left to practice.
"Honestly... you fill me up every single time. I can't even get clean."
Nanami's voice was thick with helplessness.
Her "baby's room" had been so thoroughly filled with cream puffs that it felt impossible to wash out.
She would wipe herself dry, only for more to seep out a moment later, making it impossible to focus on her script.
"Tch, tch, tch... you were clenching so hard that even if I wanted to pull out, I couldn't."
Faced with Rin's teasing, the blushing Nanami looked away.
Seeing her adorable, bashful state, Rin gave her a light kiss on the corner of her mouth.
"Just treat this as your own room and do whatever you like."
With that, Rin sat at his computer and began to draw.
While other creators might lose their drive after a climax, for an adult manga artist, it was the perfect time to work.
He had to draw while that wanton, lustful look was still burned into his mind!
To Rin, the most important part of a doujin was the eyes—a single seductive gaze was enough to tease every nerve in the reader's body.
As Rin focused on his work, Nanami felt she couldn't stay in the room anymore.
She couldn't practice while he was working, and she didn't have the heart for it anyway.
She had finished her homework during lunch breaks.
Slacking off on her phone next to someone working hard triggered a sense of guilt she couldn't handle.
After some thought, she decided to leave the room.
Even if she just scrolled through her phone, it would be more comfortable in the living room.
Plus, she wanted to check the hallway outside Mashiro's room to see if she had left any "messes."
He had been carrying her while they did it, so she had definitely splashed a lot of water.
It was fine if Mashiro saw, but it would be a disaster if Rita found out.
She had wiped it once, but a second check was necessary!
The moment she opened the door, she saw that Rita wasn't in her room either; she was standing in the hallway, looking calm again.
"Shh~"
Seeing Nanami, Rita held a finger to her lips and pointed toward the stairs.
Nanami nodded, and the two headed downstairs together.
"Drawing alongside Mashiro is too much pressure. I can't stay in that room while she's working."
Once they were downstairs, Rita stretched her back. Nanami couldn't agree more.
"Mmm. When they're drawing, I feel like even the sound of my breathing is an interruption... Wait, is there something weird on me?"
"Nothing~" Rita's composed face held a hint of shyness.
"I thought Miss Aoyama was the serious, strict type. I didn't expect... I didn't expect you would provide such 'source material' for Mashiro."
Rita, the first-generation owner, and Nanami, the third-generation owner, locked eyes.
An inexplicable competitive fire began to burn between them.
Nanami: "Mmh. I-If Miss Rita can't handle it, I'll do it. After all, as Mashiro's owner, helping her creation is a vital part of the job."
Rita: "I-It might be my first time doing this kind of research, but... but I won't lose!"