Oh, This Is Jealousy

"Hahahaha!!!"

Hours had passed with him still riding in the shopping cart. The sun was starting to sink, and the streets were growing too dark to keep running, so they decided it was time to stop.

"Ah, that was fun. Thanks, Agrippa. You worked hard."

"If my baby master had a good time, then I'm glad~"

Leyre climbed down out of the cart and held a hand out to Marx.

"So how was it, Marx?"

Marx's face was red. She couldn't even take his hand properly. Her eyes darted around, and she looked thoroughly unsettled.

"What's wrong? You didn't like it?"

"I-it's... I did enjoy it, but..."

"Then that's a relief!"

"That's not the problem..."

She seemed to be trying her hardest to dodge the subject, and at the same time she seemed to know that staying silent would only make things worse. Caught between the two, she dawdled, stretching her legs out of the cart without ever quite managing to climb free.

"What's wrong?"

"It's..."

Marx took Leyre's hand. Then, carefully, she dragged her skirt all the way down so the inside of her thigh would be hidden from the other maids, covering something.

Leyre tilted his head. Agrippa did not miss the instant.

When Marx stretched her legs and climbed out of the cart, the flesh of her thigh showed, and with it a torn stretch of stocking. Agrippa smiled a warm, gentle smile and decided this would stay a secret from the other maids.

"Aaah..."

But Hias caught on anyway. Disappointment, anger, and jealousy followed in a rush—the question of why only Marx had been allowed, and the throb that came with it. The place that had never been permitted began to ache, and Hias pressed her legs together, staring at Marx with open envy.

Should she scold her for that, or not? Hias told herself that someday she would be given praise enough to more than make up for all the waiting, let out a long breath, and smoothed a hand over her chest.

Climbing free of the cart, Marx made a point of slipping around behind Leyre, trying to hide her body.

"What's wrong?"

"Well..."

Marx sighed and took her frustration out on him, tapping his back the way a sulking child would. This was his fault. Yes, they had agreed to it, but couldn't he have shown a little restraint? Even so, she couldn't keep it to herself. She couldn't keep hiding forever. She pressed her lips together, wrestled with it, and in the end opened her mouth.

"...I leaked."

She clutched her skirt, trying somehow to tug it lower. At words and behavior he had no choice but to react to, Leyre's head snapped around, and he looked down.

Some liquid was running down the thigh of her pantyhose. Drip. Drip. It fell to the ground like raindrops, gathered in place, and made a little puddle.

"Uh..."

Leyre had no idea what to do. That it was his fault was certain. And yet, strangely, he liked the situation. He had made that proud chairwoman thoroughly, completely embarrassed.

Still, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠he couldn't leave Marx like this. The maids had probably all noticed already, but that didn't mean he could abandon her to drip like a baby. So—

"Mm... hang on."

Leyre rummaged through his bag.

What he found at the bottom of the rummaging was a pair of his boxer briefs—very large, very roomy trunks. They were black, so the colors would even match, and he put them on Marx himself.

"How's that? Better now?"

Black trunks over black pantyhose, and a black skirt over those: a thoroughly ridiculous look, and one that covered her completely.

"..."

Marx clenched her fist as if to demand what on earth he thought he was doing. She couldn't take them off, though. They did a fine job of stopping the liquid.

"Human... this humiliation, one of these days I'll—!"

"Oh, by the way, those are the ones I wore yesterday."

The ones he wore yesterday. At those words Marx's reaction flipped at once. Humiliation turned to excitement, and the liquid that had been running began to change color. It was a mercy the trunks kept it from showing.

"..."

"Does it... bother you a little?"

Marx whipped her head aside, trembled all over, and clutched at herself.

I'm being treated differently from the maids over there.

She couldn't tell whether this was intentional or an accident that had simply happened, but the situation itself was special treatment. Between that fact and her imagination of what it meant, and the way her body answered—

"Because you're my human, I'll let it slide..."

She said it sideways, working hard to dodge the shame, the embarrassment, the delight, and the gratitude.

"Hehe~"

Watching the whole scene, Agrippa only smiled, thoroughly pleased.

"U-um... it's going to be dark soon..."

Toria pushed her glasses up and pointed at the sun. It was already slipping behind the mountain and starting to vanish, and as the dark came on, the moon was rising with it.

"Oh my~ oh my~ you two over there~? Baby master and Madam Chair~?"

Agrippa went over to Leyre and Marx and pointed out a decent building.

"Let's rest for today~ Eat something, have a little chat~ and save our energy~"

The building was solid enough that it still hadn't collapsed, and the windows were intact. Aside from the dust, there were even chairs and a table worth sitting at. From the sign, it looked as if the place had once been run as a cafe.

"Let's get a light going and rest a bit~"

"Shall we? Marx, let's go rest."

Leyre took Marx's hand and headed for the cafe. Marx followed without resistance, only with her gaze turned away.

"Mmm..."

Whether she envied the situation or was jealous of it, Hias wore a pout and crept after the two of them.

"Oh my~ this won't turn into a scene, will it?"

Agrippa laughed, awkward and worried.

Deep night. The maids and Leyre sat in a circle around the fire.

"Hmph~"

Declaring that she was keeping score, Hias glued herself to Leyre's side, clamped onto his arm, and showed no intention of letting go.

"..."

Marx was unbothered. She ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had already been praised as much as she could stand, and she was receiving special treatment on top of it. Whether the maid called Hias carried on like that or not, the idea of my human was not about to disappear from Marx.

"Master... couldn't I sleep stuck right up against you tonight~?"

"Hm? Why?"

When Leyre asked, Hias acted as if he were asking something obvious, tapping his chest and whining.

"Just... because I want your love? If I fall asleep stuck to you... I feel like I'll be filled right up!"

"Mm... should we?"

"Really?!"

"Sure, why not. But we're only sleeping. Got it?"

Hias was a little disappointed on the inside, but the fact that she could sleep clinging to him was joy enough. All through the night, until morning, she could have her master to herself—ahead of every maid here.

"Okay! Thank you, Master! I love you!"

And with that, Hias planted kiss after kiss on his cheek. Leyre, content to say that was fine, stroked her hair and took in all the love she poured on him.

Marx watched and thought of everything at once.

Should I stop that? Should I ask to be included? No—should I sneak him out in the middle of the night so the two of us can have time alone?

But that felt too petty. She was the chair of a whole faction. Now and then she ought to be magnanimous and let things go. So, as a check and nothing more, Marx only sent Hias a sharp look.

"Hmm? Chairwoman Marx, are you cold? You don't look like you're in a very good mood."

"No. I'm plenty warm. I put on extra clothes, that's all. What about you—aren't you cold? Looks to me like you're running low on the fluid that keeps the heat up inside you."

"Hm~? I've got plenty. I had a proper checkup before we came. But aren't you supposed to be doing council work? I thought you said something about embassy duties..."

"And what about you? Aren't you supposed to be Lucia's aide, or on marksman duty? Security's meant to be outside, watching every direction, isn't it?"

"There are plenty of maids, aren't there? Someone besides me can do it~"

"And a maid with experience isn't going to take command?"

"You've got plenty of that yourself, don't you, Madam Chair?"

The two of them kept the argument going. Leyre didn't know what to do with himself—whether he ought to step in, or drag them both back into a back alley and praise the pair of them all over again.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Now then~ everyone?"

But a mediator of hope had appeared: Agrippa herself. She set her heavy breasts down on top of Leyre's head, and with her hands she squished and rubbed his cheeks this way and that as she spoke.

"Isn't it about time we slept~? Everyone has to get ready for tomorrow, so let's save our energy~"

As she said it, she pointed at the sleeping bags she had laid out.

"Oh. And since our baby master said he'd sleep with Hias~ I went and prepared a slightly bigger one~"

"Ah... thank... you?"

And with that, he oh-so-casually grabbed the breast resting on his head.

"Well then~ sleep tight~"

Agrippa answered with a kiss. A very long one, long enough to make a sound, shown off for everyone around them.

"Baby master? Sexual harassment is only allowed when I permit it~♡ Understood?"

"Uh... yes...?"

The kiss was sudden and practiced, and it knocked the wind right out of Leyre. Unlike the things he had led himself, this was the first time he had been worn out by an act spent purely on the real thing.

"Grr... Agrippa!!! Tonight Master is mine!"

"Hehe, I get to enjoy myself once in a while too, don't I?"

With that, Agrippa winked and set a fingertip to her lips. The provocation was deliberate. Honestly, she had wanted—after so long—to attend her master and receive his love. Seeing the two of them playing their little games of one-upmanship before she'd even gotten a turn, she couldn't stand it. So, to vent that discontent and to vent her frustration, she had decided on a kiss put on display. It worked beautifully, and Agrippa was satisfied.

Leyre could not sleep at all. Whether Hias was actually asleep or only pretending, she kept squirming, stimulating him here and there. Because of that, he couldn't endure it. He considered taking care of it in secret while everyone slept, but even so, that didn't seem like the right thing, and he gave up on the idea.

"Haa... I'll just go handle it alone and come back."

He stepped outside. And the moment he did, what he found was—

"Ah, Master?"

Toria. She was holding a large notebook and writing something in it.

"What... were you doing?"

"Ah, well, you see..."

Toria fidgeted, embarrassed.

Toria was sitting on a chair among the ruins. When Leyre dragged another chair over and drew close, she opened her book and showed it to him. There were a year, a month, a day, the weather, and—

"Ah... so that's what it is."

"Yes."

What was written there was an account of the day's events. A diary, in other words. Come to think of it, Leyre didn't know much about Toria.

Lucia was the leader. She always wore a calm expression, but she held him the way a maman would, and sometimes she let her possessiveness show and tried to have him for herself.

Hias was lively. She always greeted him with a bright face, and sometimes she looked like a maid with no shame left in her—and once you actually dealt with her, she really was. But that was only when you set her off. Ordinarily she was just an ordinary, cute maid who liked her master and nothing else.

Karin looked gloomy. At times she seemed sorrowful, an impression of listlessness. And yet, in the opposite direction, she was a masochist who chased strong stimulation, which left him flustered now and then. Still, if you just learned how to handle her, she was a maid who listened well, so she wasn't bad.

Agrippa was, on the whole, like a maman too. Her capacity to embrace was enormous; in the way she fed the maids through farming she was like a maman; and the love in the way she sometimes held him and petted him was like a maman as well. But she had shown him that intense side earlier, proving once again that a MILF really does get you going.

Marx was a tsundere. She had a strong spirit. She worked hard at acting tough—and she really was tough—but look inside and she was a cute maid who wanted to be acknowledged as a maid and who loved being praised. On top of that, perhaps because she had only ever been abused and never loved, once you gave her love her reaction was cute beyond imagining.

But Toria? She talked a lot. She was the maid who managed the library. Beyond that, he knew nothing. So this seemed like a good chance. If he got to know Toria while he was at it, living together and working together from here on would surely go more smoothly. On this night when everyone else was asleep, just the two of them under the moonlight.

"Do you write in your diary every day?"

"Mmm... you could call it a diary... but it's also a kind of historical record."

Toria spun her pen this way and that and swung her legs back and forth.

"A record?"

"Yes. Would you like to take a look?"

Toria handed him the notebook. Leyre opened it and decided to read from the very front. The title read Thirtieth Record Book, and at the top of the first page it said:

Strangely, the year was not one humans had used. They were using an era count that read Year ●●● after the extinction of humanity. To put the contents briefly—

That was all. And it went on like that. It had been a monotonous life. Only looking toward humans. Only waiting for humans. Now and then Toria's own thoughts were written down as well. Among them—

Entries like those were written there. It seemed Toria had truly waited and waited for her old master, and even if it wasn't him, she had been waiting for a master she could serve—a master who would tell her the old stories.

"...Toria, from the look of this book... your former master told you old stories often?"

"Ah... yes... He was a history professor. He told me so many fun stories from old history. So many! The rise and fall of nations, humanity's greatness and its desire, and sometimes its evil and its pitifulness. Even the ways human beings developed..."

Toria's eyes sparkled, and she began pouring out all the old stories she had heard. She looked genuinely excited—like a child who wants to tell a parent about the fun things she experienced, the times she played.

"It was such an enormous amount of history... How did the professor know all ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of that? He was an incredible person!"

"Must have been fun. So what kind of person was that professor?"

Toria scratched the back of her head and laughed, shy. She was proud of her former master, but telling the story to her current master made her embarrassed, and she worried he might end up comparing himself for no reason.

"Um... you won't be jealous, will you? A history professor is... a fine profession, as I understand it..."

"Hm? No! Your master right now is me, isn't he? Why would I need to be jealous?"

"Th-then...!"

Toria went on for hours about her former master, the history professor. Not once, as she went on, did he see her expression fade. Every time, she looked happy. Sometimes she grew so excited her voice rose; sometimes she brimmed with delight and grew lively; sometimes a wistful memory quieted her.

"...That's the kind of person he was."

"He must have been remarkable. And you must have been happy at his side."

"Yes. I was. But when humanity fell... I watched the professor's end... all the way to the last..."

Toria's face turned sorrowful, and she looked away.

"That must have been hard."

"I-I'm all right. Now..."

Toria smiled brightly.

"Because I met my master of now."

And with that, she opened her hand wide toward Leyre.

"Would you give the book back?"

"Hm? Ah, right. Sorry. I was holding onto it too long."

Leyre returned the book, and Toria began to record again. It held a great deal. Unlike the old, monotonous entries, today had been full of events, and among those events—

"...?! Wait, Toria?!"

Mid-record, he stopped Toria's pen for a moment. What was written there was far too bewildering. Two entries of it, no less.

"Toria, why are you writing this down?!"

Toria tilted her head as if he were asking something obvious, her face full of curiosity.

"Well... because it's our master's auspicious first official act, of course?"

"E-even so, you don't need to write it in that much detail! Wh-whoa, hey?! Look at that pen go! How do you even know that part?!"

Toria adjusted her glasses, let out a proud little heheh, and laughed with her chest puffed out.

"As the scribe in charge of the records, an auspicious occasion must be observed in full and preserved in writing without fail..."

"Do not record that. Absolutely not! If any more maids find out about it, I'm done for!"

"Done for with Big Sister Lucia? Because she's the leader? Well, Big Sister hasn't even gotten to try it yet. If she hears the other maids have, who knows what that incredibly possessive big sister might do?"

"R-right? Right? So we shouldn't write it, should we?"

As if agreeing, she paused the pen, looked at Leyre, and smiled a soft, bashful smile. Then, very quickly, she began copying his words without getting so much as a particle wrong.

"H-hey?!"

Leyre grabbed Toria's arm.

"M-Master! If you keep that up, the record will be ruined!"

"Erase it! I said erase it! Honestly, I'm not ashamed I got caught, but recording it is a whole different problem! You're going to keep this for a long time, right? Right? For hundreds of years!"

"Yes. That's the plan?"

He held her arm and tried to snatch the pen and the book.

"Master... please don't... do this!"

"Absolutely... not!"

Toria smirked. A maid is an android. Did he think human strength could win? That meaning was in her smile. She let her strength go, as if she might be about to lose—

"Uh... uhh?!"

—and then yanked Leyre's whole body in toward her, so that she was the one holding him against her chest. Right after that came a love-hug with her legs. She put real strength into it on purpose, so he couldn't slip free. Now Toria was the one on the attack. Like a leech that would never let go, she meant to suck him dry.

"Master... I think you've been taking me a little too lightly."

"W-wait, hold on? What are you..."

Buried in Toria's chest, Leyre tried to resist. He couldn't get out of that powerful love-hug of a bind.

"Hias said she had a monopoly on tonight, didn't she?"

Toria smacked her lips.

"Now what do we do? I think tonight's record is about to get longer."

"Uh... huh?"

For a moment, Leyre broke out in goosebumps. Was this the picture of him being the one getting eaten? Was that it? He had thought Agrippa would eat him first. No—Agrippa's capacity to indulge meant the odds of being forced were actually low. But Toria, whom he had thought was nothing but a talkative exposition machine? He was beginning to regret having come over to get to know her...

"...Please be gentle."

As if. He felt fantastic. Hell yeah! Leyre shouted it on the inside. He had come out to talk with Toria in the first place because Hias's deliberate squirming had stirred him up all over, and he had stepped out like that. If he could resolve that stimulation through some colorful new experience, then it was a full-throated oh yeah, and he was more than happy to welcome her with an irasshaimase.

"Of course♡"

"...What's this, Master. You didn't sleep?"

The next morning. In the sleeping bag he had shared with Hias, Leyre faced her with hollow eyes. Hias rubbed at her eyes, smiled softly, and fiddled with his cheek.

"Ah... I couldn't sleep..."

"What do we do... We still have to force-march all the way to the university... Maybe you can sleep a little in the shopping cart?"

"If that's possible..."

Leyre got up. And his eyes met Toria's.

"Did you sleep well, Master?"

"...Yeah."

Perfectly bright and chipper, Toria beamed and bowed her head to him in greeting.

"Please get ready quickly. We have to go. Oh! And don't worry about sorting the books at the university either!"

With that, Toria left, and where Leyre could not see, she secretly took out the notebook. In Toria's notebook, it was written: the record of the night before. And the records of Hias and Marx as well.