Victory Totem (90cm, Sleepyhead)
7 AM. WEEEEEEENG—!!!
“?!”
KABOOM—!!!!
“GYAAAH!!!”
A scream burst out of me on its own. I thought my eardrums were going to burst.
WEEEEEEENG—
Ten alarms wailed in unison. The whole room reverberated with the deafening noise.
“How the hell do you turn these off?!”
I flailed my hand around frantically, mashing buttons wildly.
Click! Clack! Thud!
One by one, I silenced them. Only after crushing the last one did the hellish cacophony finally stop.
“Haa… haa…”
Ringing echoed in my ears. My mind was blank. My heart pounded like mad.
How was this an alarm? It was a sonic weapon.
But then.
“……?”
Something felt heavy. Right on my chest.
I looked down. There was Elma. Sound asleep through all the chaos, clinging to my body.
“Mmm…”
Elma wrapped her arms around my neck. Her legs were haphazardly hooked around my waist. A perfect koala.
“Time to wake up, Elma.”
“Ugh… five more minutes…”
Sleepy whining. Her head burrowed in deeper. Her soft, warm cheek pressed against mine.
“I gotta head out.”
“Nooo…”
“It’s the exam.”
“Don’t care… not letting you go…”
Elma clung even tighter. Through her thin negligee, the plush give of her breasts pressed firmly against me.
“At least let go for a sec…”
“Don’t go… honey…”
A sniffle. Her sleepy murmur carried a hint of tears.
“Don’t leave me behind…”
Her voice was heartbreaking. Maybe she’d been tense all night. Or having a nightmare. She gripped me like letting go would spell disaster.
What now?
I checked the clock. Still some time, but…
“Wuuung—!”
Every time I tried to pry her off, Elma whined and twisted. Like an octopus sucker’s grip. Forcing her would probably make her cry for real, and soothing her would eat up ages. Worst case, I’d be late.
But I couldn’t just stay like this.
A way out…
My eyes landed on it amid my dilemma. My backpack on the chair. Her palanquin.
“……Haa.”
No choice.
“Mmm… so warm…”
Elma was still latched onto me. I carefully rose from the rug, supporting her.
One hand under her soft butt, the other grabbing the backpack.
Swish.
“Just hop in for a bit.”
No helping it. Skipping breakfast. Best to bolt to the lecture hall early like this.
Ziiiip.
I opened the zipper and slid her legs in first. Pushed her butt, then tucked her upper body in.
“Wuuung…”
Elma mumbled in her sleep but curled up obediently. The tiny professor fit perfectly in the bag.
I left a breathing hole and zipped it up.
“Alright, let’s go.”
I grabbed the straps, swung it onto my back, and—
Wobble.
“……?”
The bag squirmed. A weird vibration against my back.
“Wuuuung…!”
A dissatisfied sleepy grumble. She started wriggling inside.
Wobble! Wobble!
“Hey? Elma? Stay still!”
“Ughhh…!”
The bag thrashed wildly. She hated being on my back, apparently.
“Just hang on. We’re late.”
“Nooo…!”
Thump thump. Thump thump.
Elma pounded my back from inside. Crystal-clear refusal even in her sleep. No back. Gimme that warm belly.
“Haa…”
I was stumped. She’d dance the whole way at this rate.
I sighed, lowering the bag.
“Fine. Front carry from now on.”
“Mmm…”
I swung the bag around, strapping it like a baby carrier across my chest.
Thud.
The bag pressed against my stomach and chest.
And then.
“……Hyaaah~.”
Like magic, she settled. The wriggling bag molded to my body’s contours. A reassuring weight on my shoulders. Warmth seeping through from her body heat.
“So gooood…”
A satisfied sigh from inside.
Can’t win with her.
I chuckled, cupping the bottom of the bag. Her butt felt heavy there.
“Hold on tight.”
I headed out the front door, rode the elevator to the first floor, and moved as carefully as possible. Just in case she woke.
Sleep well.
I placed a hand on the bag, gently patting her back through the fabric.
Pat pat.
“Ughmm…”
I felt her burrow deeper into my embrace from inside. Closer. Snugger.
“Haaah… so nice…”
Blissful sleepy talk.
Sidelong glances from passersby. A guy with a huge backpack strapped to his front, constantly patting it as he walked.
Probably looks like a kangaroo…
Weird as hell, sure. But who cares? The world’s tiniest, cutest wife was tucked inside.
“Just a bit longer. Almost there.”
Feeling the warmth radiating through, I murmured softly.
Near the lecture hall. A deserted emergency stairwell.
“Hoo…”
I thought I’d gotten used to the weight, but coaxing her all the way here took more out of me than expected.
Panting, I set the bag down.
Ziiiip—.
I opened the zipper.
“Wuuung…”
Pop.
A small head poked out. Messy twin tails. Puffy eyes, clear imprints on her cheeks.
“……?”
Elma rubbed her eyes. Sleepy almond gaze stared up blankly.
Silence for a few seconds.
Then her eyes went wide.
“R-right! Wh-what time is it?! The, the exam!”
“Plenty of time.”
“Oh? Good… then we eat…”
Elma rubbed her eyes and tried to crawl out, still half-asleep.
“Hold on!”
“Why? Gotta eat.”
“We’re outside. And look at your clothes. Clothes.”
I pointed at her chest.
“……Huh?”
Elma looked down. Sheer negligee. Her skin visible through it.
“Kyaaak!”
She shrieked and dove back into the bag, peeking out with just her face. Beet red.
“Wh-why am I out here in this?!”
“You wouldn’t let go.”
“Me?!”
“Yeah. Stuck like gum.”
“L-lies!”
Elma bit her lip. No memory of it, probably. Or desperately denying.
But soon, her eyes wavered.
“So… you carried me?”
“Yup. Front carry.”
“……Must’ve been heavy.”
Her voice shrank. Dripping with guilt.
“Couldn’t wake you… skipped breakfast too…”
A sulky hamster. She fidgeted inside the bag.
“Sorry… I brag about being a good wife and all… but I’m just baggage…”
Tears welled in her eyes. Here we go. Self-esteem crash time.
One thing to do.
“Nah.”
“……Huh?”
“Thanks to you, I woke up on time.”
Lay it on thick.
“Didn’t hear the alarms? Your clock did the trick.”
“W-well, yeah. It was loud!”
“Without it, I’d have been late and flunked. You saved me.”
“……For real?”
Her ears twitched.
“Totally. As expected from our professor’s invention. Top-notch performance.”
“R-right?”
Her face softened. Simple as ever. Thank goodness.
“Plus, your scent cleared my head on the way. Gonna ace this exam.”
“Really? My smell helps?”
“Better than caffeine.”
True story. That nutty, rich aroma soaked in overnight. Incredibly soothing.
“Hmph…?”
Elma snorted. Corners of her mouth crept up.
Swish.
She reached out, wiping her mouth. Drool glistened on her hand.
“Ahem!”
A fake cough. Then she boldly lifted her chin.
“Of course! I calculated it all!”
So brazen.
“Humans’ biorhythms vary by REM cycles! I woke you at the perfect time!”
“Sure, sure.”
“And this!”
She patted the bag.
“My consideration for stability on the move! ‘Portable Hug’!”
“Stretching it.”
“Shut up! Show some gratitude with a kiss!”
Elma closed her eyes and puckered up. Her little face poked out, messy hair, drool smudge and all.
A total mess.
But weirdly adorable.
I chuckled, brushing her tangled hair behind her ear.
“Thanks, Elma.”
Mwah.
A light peck.
“……Hehe.”
Elma beamed.
“Ace the exam, honey.”
“Don’t worry. Treat after.”
“Yay! Meat! Huge meat!”
I zipped the bag back up. She tucked in.
“Leaving a little air.”
“Got it. I’ll be good.”
I strapped it front again. Solid warmth against me. Soon, her heartbeat synced with mine.
Peak condition.
I opened the lecture hall door. Confidence surged.
My victory totem (90cm, sleepyhead) was in my arms.
The exam was over. A hellish week.
“Haa…”
I collapsed onto the sofa. Soul utterly threshed.
Nothing today. This semester’s major-heavy load, plus Elma’s spartan tutoring, had fried my brain.
“Honey?”
A tiny shadow shuffled in my peripheral vision. She clambered onto the sofa.
“Oh god, you okay? Your face is half-gone.”
Elma. Worried eyes poked my cheeks, checking my color.
“I’m fine. Just beat.”
“Really…? Then you need tonic food.”
Elma’s tone turned grave.
“Tonic food?”
“Yeah. We have this from home for low energy.”
Her eyes sparkled with resolve.
This glint spells trouble.
Elma toddled to the fridge.
Snap.
Whirr—.
The fridge slid aside smoothly.
Was that there?
Revealed: a hulking steel safe. Covered in yellow caution tape.
[DANGER!]
[NO ENTRY / BIOLOGICAL HAZARD WARNING]
A total police line vibe.
Riiip—!
Elma tore off the tape.
“What the heck’s inside?”
“Arcadia ingredients!”
“…Why the storage like that?”
“Arcadia stuff has strong egos, needs isolation. Expiration? Nah, it ripens instead of rotting!”
Why do ingredients need egos?
No energy to argue.
“Wait just a sec, honey. I’ll whip up something amazing.”
She flung off her negligee and tied on an apron.
“……”
The classic naked apron look. Pale barley skin. Sideboob spilling out. Thong string precarious between her plump cheeks.
Eye candy for me, probably. Sweet and cute.
“Need help?”
“No! Secret recipe! You, go wait!”
Elma shoved my back.
“Nah, together. Dangerous alone.”
Truth: worried about accidents.
“It’s fine! Fine! Worry later!”
I got shoved into the study.
“Surprise! No peeking till done!”
Her shout from beyond the door.
Uneasy as hell.
And soon, my unease became reality.
CHIIIIIIRK—!
“……?”
Welding? In the kitchen?
Rumble…!
The floor trembled faintly. Something being crushed. Hydraulic press.
What the hell is she making?
Then.
Whiiiiiir—!
Electric drill.
And.
“SKREEEEEK—!!”
Someone’s scream echoed.