Chapter 23
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 23
Chapter Title: Classroom Command
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"Have a good day, Elma."
Tak.
Elma's hand, reaching for the hem of my pants.
I gently clasped it.
"No. You've got class."
"Hng... Why not! I just wanted to rub up against it for a second?"
"What good is it if the professor shows up late?"
Honestly, it was tempting.
But I pushed her away.
Elma pouted her lips.
The most aggrieved expression in the world.
She looked ready to burst into tears any second.
"That's not fair. Husband's such a tease. Getting me all worked up like this..."
"Instead."
I whispered in her ear.
Nibbling lightly on her earlobe.
"I'll do it when we get home."
"...R-Really?"
"Yes. All night long. Until Elma cries and begs me to stop."
"Uuu..."
Elma's face flushed bright red.
'Until Elma cries and begs me to stop.'
Those words must have hit her hard.
She started squirming her body.
"Promise? If you lie, I'll cast a lifelong erectile dysfunction spell on you?"
"Yes, yes. I promise."
Elma reluctantly pulled her hand away.
Her touch dripping with regret.
Smoothly.
She straightened her skirt.
"Tch. Fine. I can hold out."
She hopped up onto the sink.
Grumbling as she checked the mirror.
She looked a mess.
Her bangs slick with sweat.
Her clothes all disheveled.
"I can't go to class like this."
"Let me help."
I pulled out some wet wipes.
Gently wiped her face, smeared with sweat and saliva.
Pat, pat.
Like handling a porcelain doll.
Carefully.
"Your hair needs brushing too."
"Yeah. Make it pretty."
I ran my fingers through her tangled hair, smoothing it out.
She closed her eyes tight, savoring the touch.
Still feeling the aftershocks, maybe.
Her body trembled now and then.
Like a puppy relishing its owner's strokes.
Smack.
I planted a light kiss on her forehead.
"All done. You look stunning, princess."
"Hmph. Flatterer."
Elma shot back.
She hopped down from the sink.
The corners of her mouth twitched uncontrollably.
Clack.
Her 15cm heels struck the floor.
She looked far more confident than this morning.
Recharged with my 'energy,' perhaps.
"Walk slower on the way. It's making me nauseous from all the jiggling."
Just like that.
Back to her strict professor tone.
But her tiny hand gripped mine.
Our fingers intertwined tightly.
As if she'd never let go.
Creeak.
I opened the bathroom door.
"Hoo..."
Elma took a deep breath.
She let go of my hand.
Elma took the lead.
A small but spirited back.
'Have a good day, Elma.'
I waved her off with a smile in my heart.
Lecture hall.
Up front, at the podium.
"......"
Elma stood there.
In her 15cm heels.
Even so, her head barely crested the podium.
"Alright, let's begin."
Our eyes met across the void.
'You got this, darling.'
She read my gaze, perhaps.
The corner of her mouth twitched faintly.
As if saying, 'Thanks, husband.'
But.
The problem erupted sooner than expected.
"Today's topic is the Cayley-Hubert theorem."
Elma turned to the board.
Picked up the chalk.
Stretched her arm.
Screeech-.
"......"
Inevitable, really.
She couldn't reach.
The students' gazes turned odd.
Half curiosity.
Half mockery.
'What now?'
Should I help?
Go up and give her a boost?
As I shifted to stand.
Swoosh-.
Elma's hair stirred.
Her light brown twintails.
The right bundle floated into the air.
"Huh?"
"What's that?"
A small murmur.
"Whoa..."
"It can do that?"
Gasps of awe.
The hair tips coiled around the chalk.
Like a third hand.
Screeeeech-.
It even stretched.
Like a rubber band.
One meter.
Two meters.
'Holy crap...'
Magic treating hair like tentacles.
Length controlled at will.
An advanced spell known only by rumor.
Counted on one hand, they said.
She could really do it.
Four PhDs, after all.
Grand Archmage Engineer.
Awe washed over me anew.
Tat-tat-tat!
Crisp chalk strikes.
The hair danced in the air.
Chalk scrawled across the top of the board.
White dust flew as theorems etched themselves.
[Nonlinear mana collapse in open systems...]
Faster than any human hand.
And beautiful calligraphy, too.
"It can do that?"
"You hardly see it even online."
"Yeah. Gotta be someone who can use it for videos to exist."
Sneers turned to gasps.
Talent silences mockery.
Her shoulders perked up proudly.
'See that, husband?'
No outward show, but the pride shone through.
I smiled warmly.
That's my wife.
Then.
"Pffft..."
A mood-killer chuckle.
From the seat in front of me.
The department's 'popular' clique.
One returning student, a few freshmen.
Arrogant punks full of hot air.
'High schoolers who'd aged a few years.'
"Look at that."
"Totally like tentacles, right?"
My heart sank.
Those rotten bastards.
"So gross."
"Shrinking and stretching... Ugh, goosebumps."
"Bet she does weird stuff with it at night...?"
"You sicko. Now I can't unsee it."
Vulgar jokes.
Did they think she couldn't hear?
Or did they not care?
Blood boiled in reverse.
I wanted to smack their heads.
But.
Snap!
Elma flicked her fingers.
"...?"
Their mouths froze.
"...Mmph? Mmmph?"
One grabbed his own jaw.
Mouth flapping open, no sound.
"Mmph! Mmmph!"
The others too.
Mouthing like fish out of water.
Exchanging terrified glances.
Silence fell.
"Now, now, focus."
Elma spoke leisurely.
Her hair settled smoothly.
"Too much chatting during class."
She glanced back.
Icy eyes.
Fixed on the gossipers.
"Stay quiet for the rest of the day. Silent meditation's good training."
Elma grinned.
"You'll be able to talk again by tomorrow morning, so no worries. Oh, anyone else want to join the practice?"
Dead silence.
Of course, no takers.
The atmosphere shifted.
Like when she soared on her 'insole' platform.
"Good. Let's continue."
Tat-tat-tak, tak.
Chalk rang out again.
Hair extended, striking the board.
The punks kept their heads down.
Faces beet red.
She nailed them.
I covered my mouth to stifle a laugh.
That dignity from such a tiny frame.
Unforgiving personality.
That's Professor Elma Bronzebeer.
After class.
Break time.
Deserted emergency stairs.
"Uuuu..."
Where'd that charisma go?
"Husbaaand..."
Elma melted into my arms.
"I did great, right? Huh? Super cool?"
"Yes. You were the best."
"Did you see those guys' faces? Flapping like fish? Kyahaha!"
Elma laughed frivolously.
Pounded my chest.
"Feels so good! Daring to talk smack in front of me? I almost ripped their tongues out!"
"You held back a lot, then."
"Of course! I'm magnanimous!"
Elma stuck out her chest.
But her eyes wavered.
'Praise me more,' they pleaded.
"The hair-writing trick was amazing."
"Hmph. Basic for a mage of my caliber!"
"It was super sexy."
Twitch.
Elma's ears turned red.
"...R-Really?"
"Yes. The allure of an intellectual woman."
"Hehe..."
Elma hugged my waist tight.
Rubbed her face, sniffing me.
"Alright. Reward time: lab."
"Is that a reward?"
"Duh! Secret date with the professor!"
"Yes, yes. Honored."
I swallowed 'usually torture.'
"You just thought something weird, didn't you?"
"No."
Her instincts are sharp.
"Hurry. Not much time till next class."
Elma snapped her fingers.
Fwaaah-.
Her form dissolved into the air.
Ziiip-.
The bag mouth unzipped.
Thud-.
The bag sagged heavily.
"Carry me!"
"Yes, yes."
Calling me husband while treating me like a porter.
Well.
Not that I mind.
Underground lab.
Click.
Door locked.
Flop.
Elma threw herself onto the sofa.
"Aah-. Feels like I'm alive."
She kicked off her shoes.
Bare feet exposed.
Wiggled her toes, basking in freedom.
"Husband. Come here."
"Why?"
"Couple healing time."
She patted her thigh.
"Lie down. I'll clean your ears."
"Ear cleaning?"
"Yeah. Men all dream of this, right? Wife's lap, ear cleaning."
Not wrong.
"Sure, please."
I approached the sofa.
Elma stretched her legs out.
Tiny thighs.
A bit unsteady.
"Lying down?"
"Yep."
I eased my head onto her lap.
Thump.
"Ngh..."
Elma's groan.
My head covered her thigh.
Too small for a pillow.
Cute, though.
"You okay? Must be heavy."
"O-Of course! Dwarven legs are sturdy..."
Tremble tremble.
Less than a minute.
Her legs started shaking.
"Elma?"
"W-Wait a sec..."
Her face paled.
"B-Blood flow... cut off..."
"......"
"No... feeling in my legs... Why's your head so heavy? Got rocks in it?"
I shot up.
"Rocks? Harsh words."
I sat up.
With a timid protest.
Soon, Elma clutched her leg, rolling on the sofa.
"Ow!! Damn! Cramp!!"
"Told you it might be heavy."
"No! It's 'cause I lack technique! Practice makes perfect!"
Stubborn as ever.
The result was obvious.
"Uuu... My leg..."
Elma shuddered nonstop.
Drool from mouth to nose.
"Let me do it for you."
"...Tch. Fine."
Elma pouted but accepted.
This time, me sitting, her lying down.
"Lie down."
Elma rested her head on my thigh.
"Comfortable?"
"......No."
Elma grumbled.
"Too high."
"Pardon?"
"Your thighs are too thick... My neck's gonna snap."
Pillow too tall.
"Urgh... Lap pillow's gonna give me neck disks..."
"Won't work."
I sat her up.
She looked ready to cry.
Eyes brimming.
"What's this..."
"......"
"Can't give husband a lap pillow... Can't get one myself..."
Tiny fists pounded the sofa.
"Why am I so small? Can't do normal couple stuff! Damn it!"
"Elma."
"Embarrassing. Can't even wife properly."
Self-recrimination again.
Quick fix needed.
I adjusted the sofa backrest.
Semi-reclined.
"Come here."
"...?"
"You can lie here."
My chest and stomach.
Spacious, soft human bed.
"Climb on."
"...On top of husband?"
"Yes. Prone."
Elma hesitantly crawled up.
Lay flat on my stomach.
Chin on my chest.
"How's that?"
"...Mm."
Elma wriggled.
Adjusting position, body shifting.
Heavy, chewy sensation.
Like a big cat on my belly.