I Don't Like Being Alone

A few days had passed since that day's meeting.

The brutal insult to her dignity. Her self-esteem shredded to pieces. I'd comforted her with my whole body, and Elma had even smiled for me. But wounds of the heart don't heal that easily.

"...."

One morning, as I tried to get up. Thud. Something heavy weighed on my waist. I looked down. It was a tiny hand clutching the hem of my pajamas tightly.

"Elma. You awake?"

I turned to the side. Elma had pulled the blanket up to her chin, peeking only her eyes at me. It wasn't her usual whining or clinginess. Her pupils were drowned in deep sadness.

"I'm just gonna hit the bathroom real quick."

I tried to gently pry her hand off. Twitch. Elma clung even tighter, wrapping her arms and legs around my calf like a koala.

"...Yeah. Go ahead."

But her hand didn't let go.

"Hey, Elma. Gotta let go if I'm gonna go."

"...Door."

"Huh?"

"Leave the door open then."

A mumble full of anxiety. Was even not seeing me too hard for her?

"...Got it."

In the end, I had to leave the door cracked while I took care of business. Through the slightly open gap, Elma huddled under the blanket lump, her eyes tracking me. Every time our gazes met, a faint sigh of relief escaped her.

More worry than embarrassment washed over me. Separation anxiety. It was the symptom Elma had been suffering from these past few days.

Elma would sometimes stare blankly into space. Even when sitting on the sofa watching TV. Even while eating. Her unfocused eyes would gaze down at her tiny palms or fiddle with her short legs.

'Freakish body.'

The elders' vicious words. Were they still swirling in her head?

Every time, I'd wordlessly approach and pull her into a hug. Share my warmth, whisper over and over that she was beautiful. Then Elma would quickly bury her face in my chest and whine.

The nights were the hardest.

"Hic...! N-No... D-Don't go...!"

In the early hours. Elma woke up trembling. Her face soaked in cold sweat. Panting, she burrowed madly into my arms.

"Honey...! Honneeey...!"

"I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere, Elma."

Nightmares. They'd been repeating every night lately. I hurriedly pulled Elma close, stroking her back repeatedly.

"Did I run off somewhere in your dream?"

"Hic... Sob... Yeah."

Elma clutched my pajama collar tight. The look in her eyes as she lifted her head to gaze at me. It was heartbreakingly sad. Her pupils brimmed with tears.

"Don't abandon me... Don't throw away this freak...!"

Anxiety. Fear that because she was 'abnormal,' she'd be discarded. Words alone couldn't easily soothe it.

"H-Honey."

Elma panted raggedly as she climbed on top of me. She hastily hiked up her negligee. Pale breasts filled my vision.

"Touch me...."

"Elma. We'll be tired tomorrow. Let's sleep first...."

"No. Touch me. Please."

Elma forcibly pulled my hand, placing my palm on her breast.

"Say I'm a real woman for you, honey. Say I'm pretty."

A craving to confirm our love. She wanted proof this way that she was needed by me.

"...."

How could I refuse such a sad expression? Such pitiful eyes? My heart ached sharply. I gripped gently. Her hand filled with supple, full flesh.

"Nngh...!"

"You're beautiful. Elma. So beautiful it's driving me crazy."

I kneaded softly and wrapped my arms around her waist. Elma collapsed onto my chest. Wet forest scent. Nutty aroma. Her body filled my embrace.

"Haa... Yeah... Feels good...."

Our lips met. Clumsy, urgent kisses. I sucked on her lips, matching our tangled breaths. Tongues intertwined. I licked the inside of her cheek. Elma let out pleased hums through her nose, wrapping her arms around me. My hand slid down. Between her legs. I stroked the valley of her plump ass. Already soaking wet. Trembling with anxiety, yet desiring me.

"Ahh...! Haa...! More...."

"It's okay. Slow and easy. Nice and slow. I'm not going anywhere."

I gently teased her delicate folds. Elma's tiny body quivered. She whispered repeatedly into my ear.

"I love you, honey."

"Love you so much, honey."

"You love me too, right?"

"You won't abandon me, right?"

I coaxed and comforted her all night. Until she crested multiple times, melting into a daze. Until she had no energy left even for nightmares. Until she fell peacefully asleep in my arms. I held my little queen close, sharing our warmth.

Afternoon's drowsy sunlight. The professor's droning voice. And crashing post-meal sleepiness. I was so sleepy. But I couldn't sleep. No, I couldn't possibly.

Because of the heavy sensation squirming on my thigh.

Naturally, it was Elma.

"...."

I glanced down furtively. My pants were oddly pressed. Invisibility magic. Wiggle, wiggle. Her chewy ass rubbed against my thigh relentlessly.

An extension of her separation anxiety. She did this often, but lately it was every time.

Smoothly. An invisible tiny hand slipped under my shirt hem. Finally groping my bare lower belly.

Flinch.

"Stay still...."

I whispered quietly into my embrace, pushing the hand away. That's when.

Swish. Tap. The pen on my desk lifted slightly.

The magic Elma used during lectures. One transparent twin tail gripped the pen like a tentacle.

Scratch, scratch. Words etched into the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠corner of my notebook. Her handwriting wobblier and more slanted than usual. Clearly sulky.

Her hair swiftly added the next line.

A heartbreaking excuse that softened me. I carefully wrote my reply below.

Before the question mark even finished.

The floating pen bobbed as if nodding, then scratched out lines.

Cheeky written words.

I scribbled hurriedly. Elma's pen moved again. This time, the nib dug in roughly. Hard enough to nearly tear the paper.

Scratchscratchscratch!

What kind of miraculous logic was this? Canceling her own class to stick by a student's side. This bordered on malpractice.

I was about to scold her sharply.

Before I could finish the last line.

Twitch. On my knee. Elma's body stiffened. The floating pen trembled. Where'd her boldness go? Drooping letters followed, ink smudging slowly.

The strokes wiggled. You could almost hear the sniffles from the handwriting alone.

Clatter. The pen rolled limply off the desk. A wriggling motion trying to slide down from my knee. I panicked, stretching both arms. I hugged the air tight.

Poof. Elma's waist fit perfectly in my arms. This soft, chewy lump. To shield from surrounding eyes, I draped my outer jacket over.

Squeeze. I held ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her tight so she couldn't escape. With my other hand, I scribbled frantically.

The scratching stopped. Under my jacket-covered knee. The tiny lump flinched. Then it wriggled, rubbing her crown deeply against my solar plexus. A sigh of relief? The presence on my thigh rose and fell leisurely.

Swish. The pen floated up again.

Only then could I relax. But at the same time, I sank into deep worry. This was serious. Couldn't keep going like this. This sadness, this anxiety, this wound. How to shake it off?

Something to ease it was needed. Yeah, like rest and stability.

As class neared its end. I firmed my resolve and turned to a blank page. Carefully pressed big letters.

Instantly. The invisible body trembled.

The airborne pen hovered uncertainly. Finally, small, shaky writing in the corner.

The hesitant pen tip. Elma's doubt seeped through.

Trauma in full force. I set the pen down. Slid both hands under the jacket. Invisible Elma's cheeks. I cupped her tiny face fully. Gently rubbed her eye corners and chubby cheeks with my thumbs.

Grabbed the pen again, drew a thick line.

Finally, pressed hard to add.

Thump, thump-thump. Against my solar plexus. Beyond Elma's invisible back. Her heartbeat pounded fiercely.

"R-Really... I can pick whatever I want...?"

Elma huddled on the sofa. Clutching the tablet PC tight. Her curled-up body looked just like a tense hamster.

"Of course. I said I'd go along with anything."

"B-But...."

Elma averted her gaze, lips twitching. Her almond eyes shook violently.

"Don't mind skipping... pretty places normal couples go...?"

"Elma."

I sat right beside her, wrapping her trembling little shoulders.

"With you, what's normal or not? If we're happy together, that's it."

"...."

"I've got you, right? Even an active volcano crater with you would be luxury hot-spring vibes."

Praise and reassurance bombardment. Elma's ear tips heated like a thermometer.

"For real? Even a volcano? No take-backs?"

"Never. Where'd you pick?"

Elma shyly offered the tablet PC she'd been hugging. I peered at the screen. And.

"...."

I was speechless for a moment.

- Abandoned mine left untended since Japanese colonial era.

- Recently discovered.

- Extremely dangerous.

- Restricted access zone.

And more brutal keywords.

"...Whaddya think?"

Elma glanced up nervously. Her tiny fingers fidgeted intertwined. Voice thick with unease.

"S-See? Weird, right? A couple vacationing in some dingy place like this...."

"No!"

I cut her off hurriedly. If I hesitated here, she'd sink back into depression for sure.

"Sounds perfect!"

"R-Really?"

"Totally! It's getting hot anyway—underground'll be cool and awesome!"

I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠nodded exaggeratedly, swiping the tablet screen.

"Feels like a real adventure. Food tastes best after sweating, y'know."

"Right?! That's what I said!"

Color returned to Elma's face. Her gloomy eyes sparkled with life for the first time in ages.