The clock struck eleven.
The old schoolhouse's nightly "pool party" had finally wound down, and Bokue had carried each of the exhausted girls back to their rooms one by one.
Now he sat on the edge of the bed in Rias's second-floor bedroom, the soft glow of a bedside lamp carving a small circle of warmth into the darkness. Rias had already changed into clean pajamas and burrowed into her covers, the blanket pulled up just below her lips, looking for all the world like a well-behaved child tucked in by her parents on a cold night.
Venelana sat beside Bokue, her head resting against his shoulder, wearing the quietly radiant expression of a woman who wanted for nothing.
"Good night, Rias. I'm going to walk your mother back."
"Mm..."
Rias nodded obediently.
But as Bokue scooped Venelana into his arms and turned to leave, the red-haired girl called out from beneath her blankets.
"W-wait."
"...What is it?"
"Nothing, I just remembered..."
Meeting the young man's gaze as he glanced back over his shoulder, Rias's cheeks colored faintly.
"Mio and Maria didn't come to the bath tonight. They said they weren't feeling well and stayed home to rest. Maybe you should go check on them?"
Not feeling well?
Bokue exchanged a look with Venelana.
There was no chance either of them was actually sick. Both had attended school that day without issue. If they'd genuinely been unwell, they would have stayed home from class.
Which meant this was Sheila's "preparation" in action. Exactly as they'd discussed that afternoon in the beach villa.
Obviously, Bokue couldn't explain any of that to Rias. He simply nodded.
"Got it. There should still be time. I'll drop your mother off first, then swing by their place."
"Mm-hm..."
Rias gave a satisfied nod, then added with a small pout:
"They're all yours, you know. You can't play favorites. Take care of each and every one of them."
"I always do."
Bokue raised an eyebrow.
Venelana couldn't resist. She touched her cheek and sighed with theatrical pride.
"My, my. Our little Rias is saying things like that now? She's really growing into the role of first wife. I might be able to hand over my 'Acting Queen' title sooner than I thought~"
"Mom, stop teasing me..."
Already flushed pink from the lingering afterglow of the evening's activities, Rias's cheeks burned even hotter.
❁❁❁❁
Minutes later, Bokue had returned Venelana to the beach villa and teleported to the front door of Naruse Mio's penthouse suite.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
He tapped lightly and waited.
Three or four seconds passed. Soft footsteps approached from behind the door.
The handle turned. The door swung inward, and Sheila appeared in the gap, dressed in a black leather ensemble that was less "clothing" and more "concept art for a dominatrix catalog."
She looked up at the young man in the doorway, tilted her head, and smiled.
"Good evening, Bokue. Like what you see tonight?"
"..."
Bokue went uncharacteristically quiet for a beat.
Sheila was undeniably beautiful. Even in her current compact frame, echoes of her full-figured elegance were unmistakable. But whether it was a species-wide quirk or a personal obsession, both she and Maria shared an inexplicable fixation on this particular aesthetic: black leather, strategic cutouts, maximum skin exposure.
The outfit consisted of a cropped leather bustier up top and matching hot pants below. Objectively? Provocative. In theory.
In practice, the woman wearing it barely came up to his waist.
"How do I put this," Bokue said carefully. "I think the gown you usually wear suits you better."
"Oh? So you prefer the noblewoman look."
Sheila understood instantly. A knowing smile crossed her face, and she twirled in place. When she completed the rotation, the leather had vanished, replaced by the elegant aristocratic dress she typically wore.
Then she activated her magic, rising smoothly from the floor until her eyes were level with his. She leaned in close, cheek brushing his, and whispered against his ear in a voice meant for no one else:
"You really do love the mature wife aesthetic, don't you."
She pulled back with a laugh, took his hand, and tugged him inside.
"Come on in. Everything's ready. I've been waiting."
The living room was empty. The hallway leading to the bedrooms was dark, every light switched off. Only the main room remained lit, casting the space in the kind of quiet, intimate stillness that made it feel like the rest of the world had already gone to sleep.
"Where's Maria?"
Bokue glanced around. The afternoon's plan had specifically included Maria and the others. Their absence was conspicuous.
"Well, that's what you get for showing up so late~"
Sheila said it with an exaggerated pout, then immediately undermined herself by giggling.
"Maria and the others have school tomorrow, so they went to bed early."
"But I told you, everything's prepared. Just trust me. Now, the first thing you need to do is... hold me?"
In Japanese, "hold" carried the convenient double meaning of both the physical act of lifting someone and the decidedly less innocent alternative.
Bokue didn't need clarification.
He swept her up in a princess carry, pivoted, and drove her down into the living room sofa.
One thrust, and he buried himself to the hilt inside her already-dripping core.
"NNGH—!!!"
Sheila's back arched off the cushions. Her neck craned upward, eyes going hazy and distant.
Bokue gave her no quarter. He set a punishing rhythm from the very first stroke, driving into her with long, forceful thrusts that rocked the sofa against the wall.
Sheila wrapped both legs around his waist, locking her ankles together, matching his pace with desperate rolls of her hips.
"So deep—!!!"
❁❁❁❁
Meanwhile, in the pitch-dark bedroom down the hall, a certain Nightmare girl had been roused from sleep by the sounds filtering through the walls. Her brow furrowed. Her eyes drifted open.
"...The same dream again?"
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