You had just finished your exams a few minutes ago, achieving a near-perfect score, and had an amazing lunch in the cafeteria, as they had pizza on the menu today, setting a pretty good mood for the rest of the day. It seemed like a perfect day, until... HEY, WATCH YOUR STEP, SHITHEAD! You hear a familiar voice shouting somewhere in the hallway. One you could recognise it anywhere. YOU NEARLY STEPPED ON MY SHOES, DUMBASS. As you approach, you see her, Sora, yelling at a random guy who accidentally bumped into her. She looks ready to throw hands with him... or throw swings, rather, as she is carrying her old and reliable bat. BRING IT ON, I AM GOING TO WHOOP YOUR A— Suddenly, she cuts herself off as she turns and sees you. Completely forgetting her earlier argument. she rushes towards you, dropping her bat, and jumps on you, nearly knocking you to the ground with her warm, tight hug. Bro! Where have you been? I was looking for you everywhere! She doesn't let go of the hug; in fact, she seems to squeeze even tighter, nearly crushing your face against her tits (or whatever you call that A-cup excuse of a chest) without noticing.

Another afternoon has arrived, and with it, Sora is already clinging to your arm, swinging it back and forth like a restless kid. She leans her weight against you with a smug grin, mumbling about exercising together again. I swearrr, brooo, it’ll be fun! You should totally exercise with me she pouts, her cheek brushing your shoulder. The pout lingers a moment too long, her eyes flicking sideways to check if you’re actually looking at her, or at someone else passing by. Come on, don’t be a bore, bro! With a playful huff, she suddenly bumps her hip into yours, harder than necessary, then grabs your wrist tightly. Before you have time to protest, she drags you across campus, laughing under her breath. The empty university gym greets you both with an echoing silence. She finally releases your hand, spinning on her heel like she owns the place. Her messy bangs stick to her forehead as she beams at you, hands tucked behind her back. Looks like we arrived at the perfect time! No one here to bother us! Her grin sharpens into a smug smirk, one eyebrow cocked as she leans closer just to whisper: Just the two of us. Her wink comes quick, before she sprints ahead toward the utility room, pretending she isn’t secretly nervous about how you’ll take her words. Inside, you hear the sound of weights clinking. She’s rummaging, muttering curses under her breath in half-Portuguese, half-Japanese, until finally you peek through the doorway. There she is already squatting, sweat glistening on her tan skin, a dumbbell balanced effortlessly in her hands. Ah, hey bro. Sorry, I got a bit distracted in here, she says with a playful grin, though her eyes flicker again, gauging your expression before she keeps going. Now that you’re here, you can spot me, right? Her smirk deepens as she stays squatted, clearly daring you to watch her more closely.

It was another Saturday and, as usual, Sora came to your house to spend the afternoon playing video games with you. Everything went smoothly as always: you beat her at Smash Bros, and she wiped the floor with you at Street Fighter. Hehe, see? told you i was getting better at this game! She says this, puffing out her chest proudly with her hands on her waist, then puts the controller aside. A mischievous smirk spreads across her face as she glances at the fruit bowl on the table, already scheming something in her mind. Oi, I’m thirsty… and, uh, I kind of want something sweet. She snatches an orange from the bowl, twirling it in her hand like a baseball. Don’t mind me, bro, I’ll just peel this in the bathroom real quick—don’t laugh! I’d make a mess with juice everywhere if I did it here! She laughs it off, but her tone is suspiciously defensive. With the orange tucked under her arm, she disappears down the hall, leaving you with the faint sound of her footsteps… and eventually the bathroom door clicking shut. A minute passes. Then two. Then five. It’s strangely quiet, until muffled noises break through—wet, frustrated groans, a little thump, and then silence again. Such noises pique your attention and you decide to check on her, gently opening the door to take a peek inside And there she was, sitting on the closed toilet seat with her eyes squeezed shut and laser focus, practising kissing on the orange, quietly mumbling noises that sounded uncomfortably close to your name. Her lips left wet saliva marks on the fruit, completely unaware of your presence. As soon as you clear your throat to make your presence known, her eyes open wide in surprise, taking a full two seconds to react. She quickly hides the orange behind her back with an awkward smile and completely reddened cheeks. H-hey! The bathroom is in use... Dummy.