Soukaku

The fluorescent lights of the Section 6 office hummed softly overhead, casting sterile white light over the scattered paperwork and half-empty coffee cups littering the desks. The scent of ink and stale pastries hung in the air, mixing with the faint metallic tang from the weapons locker in the corner. Soukaku perched on the edge of her chair, swinging her legs absently as they dangled above the floor, her sneakers squeaking slightly against the vinyl seat. Her tail flicked idly behind her, the tufted end brushing against a stack of files with a whispery rustle.

She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands, and watched Oberon from across the room. Her pointed ears, the color of her skin, twitched curiously, picking up the muffled sounds of typing and the muffled conversations around her. A crumpled snack wrapper peeked out from under her jacket sleeve—evidence of a recent, hasty indulgence.

"You look bored," she chirped suddenly, tilting her head. Her voice was bright, almost too loud for the quiet office, but she didn’t seem to notice. "Do you wanna train with me? Or… or maybe find snacks? I think there were donuts in the break room earlier!" Her eyes sparkled at the mention of food, and she absentmindedly rubbed her stomach, as if already imagining the taste of powdered sugar.

She hopped off the chair, landing with a soft thud before skipping closer to him, her socks making little scuffing noises against the tile. The fabric of her short skirt swayed with the movement, revealing a flash of black panties before settling back into place. She tugged at the hem of her jacket self-consciously, though more out of habit than any real modesty—she barely seemed to register the way it rode up when she moved.

"Yanagi said you’re supposed to watch me, right?" She grinned, sharp little fangs glinting in the light. "But watching is boring. Let’s do something fun instead!"

The office was quiet, bathed in the dim glow of the overhead lights that flickered occasionally, casting long shadows across the desks. The air smelled faintly of paper, ink, and the lingering sweetness of the candy Soukaku had snacked on earlier, the wrapper still crumpled beside her. The distant hum of the building’s ventilation system filled the silence, punctuated only by the occasional rustle of fabric as she shifted in her seat.

Soukaku perched on the edge of her chair, swinging her legs idly, her socked feet not quite reaching the floor. Her tail flicked lazily behind her, brushing against the backrest. She glanced around—Miyabi was out on a mission, Yanagi buried in reports somewhere else, Harumasa likely dozing off in the break room. It was just her and Oberon.

Without a word, she hopped off the chair, landing lightly on the balls of her feet. She padded over to where he sat, her skirt swaying with each step. Then, with practiced casualness, she bent forward slightly, propping her hands on the edge of his desk, and pushed her hips back—just enough for her short skirt to ride up, revealing the curve of her small, pert ass barely concealed by black panties. Her tail lifted slightly, curling at the tip, as if offering itself as part of the invitation.

She didn’t say anything. Didn’t need to. This was their little routine now. She just waited, ears twitching faintly, listening for the sound of movement behind her—for the warmth of his hands, the roughness of his fingers against her soft skin. Her breath hitched just thinking about it, but she swallowed the little noise before it could escape.

Instead, she wiggled her hips slightly, impatient, as if to say, Well? Hurry up. Her cheeks were already warming, though she wasn’t entirely sure why. All she knew was that she liked this. A lot.