While Taking Care of My Shut-In Little Sister, I Somehow Ended Up Ejaculating Inside a Beautiful Girl - Chapter 28: When We Spent the Night Together, She Became Strangely Unsettled (4)

Chapter 28: When We Spent the Night Together, She Became Strangely Unsettled (4)

“Hot…”

I let the warm shower pour over my head. After washing off the soap, I sank into the milky-white bathwater.

Yuu had already bathed and was taking care of household chores for me, while I was utterly relaxed in the tub.

Closing my eyes, I felt a tingling warmth spread to my fingertips and toes. I’m not prone to cold hands or feet, but soaking in the bath boosted my circulation, warming me to the core.

With better blood flow and the scent of bath salts, my body and mind should’ve been completely relaxed, but oddly, my head felt sharper than ever.

Thoughts flickered through my mind, coming and going.

Come to think of it, it’s been a while since I soaked in a bath like this.

I usually fill the tub for my sister.

So she can bathe at night or while I’m at school.

I just take quick showers.

It feels unfair to make her use my leftover bathwater. Sure, it looks like plain clear water, but knowing it’s my bathwater? I can’t predict how much she’d hate that.

I’ve seen it in dramas and stuff—typical family scenes where teenage daughters treat their dads like they’re the plague. Learning that was a real thing shocked me back then. Health class taught me about physical and mental growth stages, differences between sexes, but nothing prepared me for scenes of dads being outright despised.

As a kid, I didn’t have enough life experience to process that. With just me and my sister a lot of the time, I worried she’d end up hating me. She used to follow me everywhere, “helping” with chores while mostly getting in the way—cute, but a hassle. The idea of her hating me someday was hard to imagine, yet all too easy, and it made me feel strangely lonely.

“Nostalgic…”

So much has happened since childhood.

I learned about things like dads and daughters from overhearing girls at school, and life inside and outside home taught me about the world. Compared to my powerless childhood, I can do more now.

I still can’t fully grasp how a father feels, but for my teenage sister’s sake—her mental well-being—I do what I can.

Draining my bathwater is one of those things.

Or, honestly, it’s also because swapping out the water feels like a hassle when it’s just my dirt in there.

Either way, the tub’s pretty much just for her now.

“So nice… Feels good… I’m happy…”

So this is a rare soak.

A bath purely for me.

If both Yuu and I have bathed, refilling the tub makes sense.

It’s not just my issue anymore, so the hassle doesn’t feel like a hassle.

In the end, even this relaxing bath is thanks to Yuu.

“Man… Am I too dependent on her?”

She’s already (way too quickly) taken over so much of my life.

Starting today, she’ll probably invade my space even faster.

I’ve let her get away with so much, but there’s a limit to “how much more.”

And going beyond that—beyond now—things will change, no doubt about it.

Before we officially started dating, I never really thought about life with a girlfriend. Even when we had a fake relationship, I treated her as my “childhood friend” or “neighbor,” keeping that line clear.

That’s about to change.

Wonder how it’ll turn out…

“Phew…”

A cold droplet hit my nose, and I shook my head to flick it off.

I got lost in pointless thoughts and ended up soaking too long.

Thud.

“…?”

A sound came from the changing room. Something small and heavy rolling.

Through the bathroom door, I saw a faint movement in the changing room.

The door’s acrylic panel is frosted, so all I could make out was a blurry blue haze. But it was definitely a person.

They crouched quickly, then stood, like they picked something up.

…Not to dodge the obvious, but there’s only one person it could be.

The blue silhouette matched the pajamas she’s wearing.

“Yuu? Something up?”

“Ah, R-Ren-chan…!”

My call got a flustered response from Yuu in the changing room. When did she get there? What was she doing? I was too lost in thought to notice her.

“Did you call me or something? Sorry, I didn’t hear. I was zoning out.”

“N-No, that’s not it! Just, uh—!”

Her blue silhouette flailed, scrambling around on the other side of the door. Was she handling laundry? Maybe bringing a towel? Her voice was loud, though. The bathroom door’s thin—not that thin, but I could hear her fine. Why’s she so rattled?

“What’s up?”

“Uh, what’s up? Nothing’s up, I mean, it’s nothing… yeah!”

“Did you bring a bath towel?”

“Y-Yeah! Exactly! I brought a towel! I rolled it up like a big sushi roll and put it in the towel basket!”

“Thanks~.”

I leaned on the tub’s edge, resting my elbow.

She’s in the changing room, so I can’t get out yet. I’ll wait—then it hit me how weird that is.

We’ve already seen each other naked—fully grown, bare as can be.

Yet I’m hesitating to let her see me fresh out of the bath. Some strange line I’m drawing.

No, it’s probably embarrassment. Even guys have that feeling. Call it manners, etiquette. It’s normal, I think.

Yuu seems to pick up on it too—she’s not barging in.

…Wait, barging in on someone bathing would be weird, right?

Yeah, that’s not normal. Normal people don’t do that.

Is my sense of “normal” shifting? It’s bizarre that I half-expected her to act like that, as if it’s natural.

What a strange change in myself. I bet being with Yuu will bring all sorts of weird feelings like this from now on. With her, my life is bound to—

“—Oh.”

Speaking of being together, I suddenly remembered something.

No time to daydream about the future. I might’ve made a huge mistake before my bath.

“Yuu, you haven’t started the washing machine yet, right?”

“Uh, nope, not yet! Why?”

“Hold off on the laundry for a sec.”

I might’ve left my smartphone in my pants pocket—a critical error.

It happens sometimes… That’s why I picked a phone with solid waterproofing, just in case.

“I might’ve left my phone in my pants. Sorry, but—no, never mind, I’ll do the laundry myself later—”

“Oh, here it is! Your phone! It was in your pants pocket!”

With that, Yuu zipped from the washing machine to the bathroom door in a flash, holding up a black rectangle—my phone—through the frosted acrylic panel.

She must’ve checked my pockets and pulled it out. Her movements didn’t look like she was digging through the washing machine, though…

Did she already check my pants and take the phone out beforehand?

…Wait, what? Already checked my pants? What kind of situation is that? I’m confusing myself here.

I can’t imagine why Yuu would need to mess with my pants in the washing machine. What would she even be doing?

…Right?

“You found it quick. Thanks, Yuu.”

“You’re welcome! I’ll leave the phone next to your clothes!”

With that, she bolted out of the changing room like she was escaping. She seemed a bit off, but maybe I’m imagining things.

Having a naked person of the opposite sex just a door away would make anyone nervous, I guess. Her voice was loud, too. If I were in her shoes, I’d probably feel self-conscious, so that’s likely why she’s rattled.

“Phew. Soaked a bit too long. Time to get out.”

I stepped out of the bathroom, steaming from the hot bath.

In the changing room, I dried off with a towel—

“…Oh. If my phone was in my pocket—”

That means other stuff might be in there too, like my handkerchief.

Today’s handkerchief was a delicate fabric, one I really like because it goes great with formal outfits. It needs ironing and gets damaged easily from friction.

And then there’s the nightmare of tissues left in pockets—ruins the whole load. Everyone’s been there, right?

So, always check your clothes before washing! Promise! …Even though I’m guilty of not doing it.

I’ve gotten too used to washable, no-iron clothes, so I’ve been sloppy. Convenience ruins people. Serious problem.

“Washable clothes are too damn good.”

I checked the clothes in the washing machine.

But, as expected, Yuu had handled everything perfectly.

My handkerchief was neatly tucked into a mini laundry net, and my phone and pocket tissues—also likely from my pants—were lined up tidily next to the towel and my change of clothes.

Even the shelves were organized, thanks to her.

“Wow… I had tissues in my pocket too? That was close…”

She’s covering all my shortcomings like a pro.

What a perfect wife.

…No, girlfriend. What am I saying? Am I losing it?

I don’t doubt her perfection, but at this point, I needed to check my pants pockets myself to feel at ease. Not because I don’t trust her—I don’t trust myself. Sad, but true.

I rummaged through the washing machine, pulling out my pants—

“…Hm?”

Something felt off in my hand.

“What…?”

It was the texture of brand-new fabric, stiff and unfamiliar, catching my fingers.

I pulled the item out.

“Underwear…”

It was my underwear. The odd texture was the elastic waistband.

The elastic was neatly folded, perfectly aligned, like it was fresh off the shelf.

I’m pretty sure this pair was like that when I bought it—prim and proper. After a few wears, the elastic and fabric should’ve softened, but this was… flat, thinly folded…

Like it was brand new, tossed into the washing machine.

“Huh…? I mean, I’ve only worn these, like, three times, but still…?”

Black, high-quality fabric, with a white brand logo on the waistband. A boxer brief that gently hugs the thighs while cradling the crotch. A fancy one I haven’t worn much lately.

I’m not telling Yuu this—too embarrassing—but these were my “lucky” underwear, my win-the-day pair.

I bought them earlier this year, never imagining I’d actually wear them for their intended purpose. I put them on this morning, thinking, Good thing I got these, and wore them all day.

And now—

“Whoa, the fabric’s, like, super smooth…”

Yeah. They’re made of smooth, comfy material, but…

“What’s going on?”

They feel exactly like a brand-new pair.

The texture is too smooth, too clean.

It’s uncanny.

Is this… a new pair?

Not the most dignified move, but I sniffed my underwear (?).

…Nope, this isn’t right.

These aren’t the ones I wore all day.

It’s not even the scent of laundry detergent—it’s that industrial smell of fresh-off-the-shelf clothes.

By some fluke, I stumbled onto a major anomaly.

I want to think it’s a mistake, but my fingers, my nose, they’re screaming this isn’t my imagination.

…

Okay, what’s happening here?

It’s…

I mean…

I put the underwear I wore all day in the washing machine, and somehow, it’s brand new.

…Huh?

What kind of magic is this?

Wait, I know a story like this.

The one about the woodcutter who drops his axe in the river. A god pops up and asks, “Is this gold axe yours?” The honest woodcutter says no. The god asks, “Is this silver axe yours?” Again, no. Finally, the god shows the woodcutter’s real axe, and he confirms it’s his.

Impressed by his honesty, the god gifts him his axe plus the gold and silver ones—a sweet three-piece deal.

So… am I being tested right now?

Instead of a river, it’s a washing machine. If some creepy laundry god shows up, I’d have to say, “These aren’t my underwear. Please give mine back.” And if I keep answering honestly, maybe the god, impressed by my integrity, will hand over my original pair plus a deluxe three-pack of fancy briefs.

What a deal—nah, that’s not it. That’s ridiculous.

Calm down, me.

It’s gotta be… something else.

…What, though?

…

“…No way, it’s just my imagination.”

It’s gotta be, right? A weak question mark floated in my head, then faded.

Maybe I wore them all day and they just didn’t get dirty.

I mean, I had raw, unprotected sex with Yuu, and these were wrapped around my crotch before and after, but somehow, they stayed miraculously clean all day.

My crotch wasn’t dirty, so the underwear wasn’t either. Both stayed pristine.

Or… since they’re this clean, maybe my crotch purified the underwear?

Is my crotch a holy sword…?

No, I’m an idiot. My “sword” down there is a sexy sword, not a holy one—wait, that’s not the point. Calm down.

The underwear I put in the washing machine getting swapped for a new pair?

No way that’s real.

“…It’s definitely just my imagination.”

I decided to believe that.

I’m ignoring the weird vibe from these underwear.

That’s my call.

No more thinking about it.

It’s better that way.

I stopped thinking.