Chapter 10 Veil of Innocence
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
The next morning, I choked down my usual bland ration-and-water breakfast. These rations, kneaded with salt and sugar, scream bare minimum calories for survival.
Imagine a biscuit soaked in water, pressed into a brick, and slathered with oil. Tasteless, but it keeps me going.
”Eating your meal… such a small mouth… so cute…” C*mslut murmurs, her eyes sparkling with delight as she watches me.
She told me to treat her casually, so I’ve been calling her C*mslut in my head.
I’m grumpy about the food, but her happiness seems unaffected. This stuff is seriously gross, I think, chewing slowly.
”It’s not just that I’m small,” I say, glancing at her. “You’re tall, too. Late 170s, maybe?”
Despite my mood, C*mslut just beams. Meanwhile, the Imperial Guards from the Active Division treat me like a panda at Ueno Zoo—adorable, fragile, untouchable. Without their rank holding them back, they’d probably pet me like a puppy.
But they’re women, and I’m a guy. At twelve, I’m past the age where casual touching is okay. They’re clearly struggling to restrain their good girl, good girl urges.
It’s not all fun for me, either. Mornings are a hassle—hiding my situation is no small feat. Even if I manage to calm things down, taking care of it privately isn’t an option.
The bathroom’s too risky; the smell would give me away. These Active Division women have instincts and noses like wild animals. I’m half-convinced they’d sense it and pounce.
If I’m Ueno Zoo’s panda, they’re the Ueno Strip Theater, I muse, smirking.
But then, a thought hits me. Wait a second. In this world, do young women even know what that smells like? A spark of reverse logic ignites.
If I, say, accidentally spilled something on my desk, would C*mslut even know what it was? She’d notice a scent, sure. She’d think it’s odd, maybe gross. But she wouldn’t connect the dots.
This could lead to an unconscious ingestion scene, I realize, my mind racing. Picture it: I’m not around, and she spots a drop on my desk.
What’s this? she’d think. Not water, not milk. Curious, she scoops it up, sniffs it, maybe even touches it to her tongue…
They all think I’m clueless about that stuff. But I can use their assumption of my innocence against them—a reverse ignorance play. It’s almost decadent, this twisted scenario. If I were less practical and more into situation play, I might’ve gone all in.
Short-term goal? I think. It’s tempting. Unique. Something I can only pull off now.
* * *
My daily schedule keeps me grounded.
Mornings, I’d love to visit Maggot-san at the hospital, but the Imperial Guards vetoed it. No time to spare when I’m their priority.
Before noon, I tackle homework from Cult-san. It’s mostly fill-in-the-blank stuff—national language, history, patching gaps in my knowledge. Ethics? I’ve passed.
Science and math? I’m fine up to high school level. I could probably pull some tricks from my old life’s knowledge, but turning that into money would mean a lifetime of research. Not my thing. Plus, this world’s physics don’t always match Earth’s.
I breeze through the problems, pencil gliding.
During the day, Vocal-san, my bodyguard, and C*mslut, inexplicably on night watch duty, hover nearby. Don’t they get bored just staring at me, smiling like that?
”Hey,” I call out. “What’s up?”
”Yes?” Vocal-san replies.
”What is it?” C*mslut adds.
”Why are you both staring at me?”
The two older sisters exchange glances, their answers vague. Maybe they don’t even realize they’re doing it.
Ugh, it’s hard to focus with them watching, I think. They don’t seem like the tutoring type, either. More like they’d ditch studying for soccer.
”Could you grab me some water?” I ask.
”Of course!” Vocal-san beams.
”Right away!” C*mslut chimes, practically sprinting off.
I feel a twinge of guilt sending them away, but their eager smiles make it worth it. Win-win, I suppose.
* * *
”History and geography are actually kind of fun,” I mutter, diving into the material. The skewed gender ratio shapes everything—wars over male resources, especially in Europe, where marriage by abduction and political unions are brutal. One family tree had four generations of rod sisters. The great-grandkid? Impressive stamina, I think, chuckling.
Symbols reflect this obsession. Crowns and scepters have mushroom-shaped tips. In the Middle East, snake crests dominate.
Owning a male is a mark of wealth and authority. Some countries even model their flags after… well, fertility symbols. I stifle a laugh.
Then there’s the culture. Kai-awase—basically yuri culture—is huge, with strong civil rights for homosexuality. White, sticky foods like yams or milk are fetishized as spiritual health products, not unlike my old world’s pseudoscience.
I read that Qin Shi Huang drank you-know-what daily, chasing immortality. I burst out laughing. If only this world had sumo on TV, I sigh. I’d be glued to the screen.
* * *
Afternoon rolls in. After lunch and a break, it’s exercise time with Vocal-san.
She’s a total sportswoman—hair tied back, dressed light, like a gym instructor. “Let’s start with warm-ups!” she says brightly. “Keep at it, and you’ll catch up to the other guys in no time!”
”Got it,” I reply, following her lead.
After training, it’s tea time with Cult-san. She drills me on etiquette.
”Perfect manners are essential,” she says. “Practice until it’s second nature.”
”Uh, okay. Spin the cup left, then drink… That’s some serious tea ceremony stuff.”
”No flattery,” she corrects. “These utensils are chipped and low-quality. It signals you’re not fully welcome.”
By 4 p.m., I’m free. Another day done, balancing survival, scheming, and this strange world’s quirks.
I collapsed onto my bed in my private room, exhausted. The watchful eyes of the Imperial Guard lingered nearby, but tired is tired.
”Phew… I’m done for,” I groaned.
My days aren’t exactly grueling, but my body’s weak.
I scrape by, rationing what little stamina I have for short bursts of focus. Ignoring the concerned glances from my bodyguard, I sprawled out, letting myself sink into the mattress.
Wonder how Maggot-san’s doing…
Until recently, midnight meant healing time with Maggot-san. Physically, it was whatever, but mentally? A lifeline.
Those were the best days. Now, with her head injury and a slight fracture keeping her on bedrest, I’m stuck under surveillance until morning. No chance to clear my head. My older sisters, who adore me but don’t see me that way, are on duty.
Can I stay sane until she’s discharged? I wondered. Maybe sneak in some relief during the day… No way, right? Asking her to help me out in her hospital room was out of the question.
”Patience, patience…” I muttered.
I’d already sent a message wishing her a speedy recovery. But if I showed up at her hospital room, it’d go something like:
“Please get better soon,” I’d say, voice heavy with concern.
But in my head, it’d twist into: “Please… get better soon…”—panting with excitement. Hospital visit would take on a whole new meaning.
I genuinely want her to recover, but somehow my words sound like a sleazy boss pressuring a burned-out office worker to return. This is bad.
”You seem pretty worn out,” a voice cut in.
I rolled over on the bed, facing Trash-san, an Imperial Guard with a crisp, clean impression. She rarely initiates conversation, so this was new.
”I get muscle pain fast, and I’m sleepy. Being a kid is rough, you know?” I complained.
”Oh, my. Sounds like quite the struggle,” she replied, a faint chuckle escaping.
Lately, I’ve been interacting more with the Imperial Guards, but some, like Trash-san, remain hard to read.
We exchange letters—formal, stiff ones, as is custom for guys wary of women. I’m not that cautious, but it’s standard.
”Everyone’s worried about you,” she continued. “At the town assembly, your quick thinking saved us. We’re grateful.”
”Then maybe go a little easier on me?” I shot back.
”Spare the whip, spoil the child,” she said coolly.
”Ugh…” I groaned.
Trash-san’s got this suave, almost theatrical charm, like she’s playing a role. My exaggerated reaction made her chuckle again.
”Are you saying we’re mean on purpose?” she teased.
”Not exactly…”
”Of course not. Your Lordship is wise, and we know it.”
”Ugh, you are mean,” I said, glaring at her.
Trash-san’s got that dashing, princely vibe—tall, slender limbs, sharp expression, short bob haircut with bangs swept to the side. Total Takarazuka star material.
Bet she’s a hit with the ladies. But her face? Surprisingly cute. Unfairly perfect.
”Oh, by the way, today’s study was about mysteries,” I said, shifting to small talk.
”Was it now?” she replied, a smile tugging at her lips.
I figured I’d ask about her work. My Imperial Guards include four mystery specialists, and the full roster looks like this:
Sow-san: Chief, bodyguard (hospitalized).
Vocal-san: Bodyguard.
Maggot-san: Attendant, accounting officer, advisor (hospitalized).
Cult-san: Education, chief instructor.
Crybaby-san: Foreign representative.
Trash-san: Exploration, mystery specialist.
C*m Bucket-san: Exploration, mystery specialist.
Flatty-san: Exploration, mystery specialist.
C*mslut-san: Exploration, mystery specialist.
That’s a lot of hospitalizations… I thought. Can we survive this season?
No backup team, either. My squad’s like a Serie D team, eight years behind and dead last. Oh well.
The first five handle intelligence division duties—personal affairs, social etiquette, taxes, and even marriage arrangements. They’re here to secure my status and ensure a good life.
They’ll also manage my stud role with ordinary women once I’m older. Better not piss them off.
The other four, in the active division, follow the intelligence team’s lead, earning money outside.
At first, I thought they were extra guards—they’ve got that tough vibe—but no. Since Trash-san’s on night watch, I figured it’s a good chance to learn about her work.
”Hey, I read about glowing stones in the textbook. Can I see one?” I asked.
”Sure, one moment,” she replied.
Trash-san climbed onto a chair, removed a ceiling light, and brought it to me.
She pulled a pristine handkerchief from her waist and tilted the frosted glass. Luminous sand poured onto the fabric, sparkling softly.
This world’s physics are weird, I reminded myself. Lights here aren’t electric—they’re powered by crushed glowing stones sealed inside.
The active division collects these resources, paying taxes to the state. Apparently, I have some ability to support this, but it’s all a bit vague.
Truth is, I’m not into the mystery exploration stuff. I’m not here to turn this life into an RPG.
I’m aiming for a dumb, spicy visual novel, I thought with a smirk. Some guys only deal with the intelligence division, avoiding the active team entirely. Namu san.
I pinched some luminous sand.
”It’s really mysterious,” I said, feeling its rough texture. Just sand, no heat, but glowing faintly.
”Transforming sand is Kujukuri Town’s main resource,” Trash-san said, raising an eyebrow with a smile. “Curious?”
”Uh… yeah, sure,” I replied, though I wasn’t that invested. Still, I didn’t want to shut her down.
She launched into an explanation, clearly delighted to share.
”Our work involves collecting mystical objects like these,” Trash-san explained. “While you’re studying, we’re usually out exploring. This is something we acquired recently.”
”What’s that?” I asked, leaning forward.
From her sleeve, she produced a small metal trinket box. Opening it revealed something wrapped in washi paper, glowing faintly red.
”It was worn by a woman, so I apologize for that…” Trash-san said, unwrapping the paper.
Inside was a stone, similar to the glowing sand from earlier, but this one radiated a soft red hue.
”Wow, it’s red!” I exclaimed. “What is it?”
”A rare red transforming sand,” she replied. “Colored ones are luxury items. We searched far and wide to find it.”
”Huh… It’s a gentle red. Kind of beautiful.”
The glow had a warmth to it, like a fireplace, yet it felt closer to the cool flicker of fireflies than harsh incandescent light.
”Pardon me,” Trash-san said, pulling a thumb-sized knife from the trinket box. She began shaving the red stone, letting the fragments fall onto a fresh handkerchief. With the back of the knife, she tapped the grains, grinding them into an even, fine mound.
Next, she retrieved a wrinkled container, about the size of a walnut, and twisted open its ornate metal lid.
She poured the red grains inside, and in moments, a glowing lantern fruit took shape—a delicate, lantern-like light, radiating a soft, charming glow. It was a perfect Chinese lantern plant, exquisite and dainty.
”If you’d like, would you accept it?” she offered.
”For me?” I asked, surprised.
”I hoped it might bring you some comfort, Young Master.”
No way, this is genuinely awesome, I thought. The glass craft was intricate, a level of quality I hadn’t seen much of in this world.
Plus, her practiced movements were just… cool. Effortless skill like that? Impressive.
Seeing my excitement, Trash-san smiled, her eyes catching mine with a refreshing grin. Okay, the room’s practically sparkling now, and it’s not even the luminous sand. I mentally apologized for earlier thoughts about testing her reactions in less… wholesome ways.
”Wow, it’s gorgeous. I’m really happy—thank you!” I said.
”I’m glad,” she replied, her smile dazzling. Ugh, she’s too princely.
She’s the furthest thing from my usual spicy interests, but that just makes her reactions more intriguing. One day, I’ll figure her out.
Her hands, though, were covered in scars. She’s been working hard to support me financially, I realized, a pang of guilt hitting me.
”By the way,” I said, shifting gears, “you supported that summons at the town assembly, right?”
”Yes, that’s correct,” she said, her tone steady.
”I don’t want to dig up old wounds, but… why? I’m not mad or anything, just want you to know I’m not holding a grudge.”
Maggot-san, another supporter, had been torn up about it. Crybaby-san, the Foreign Affairs Officer, also backed it, but she’s a mystery—always trembling and apologizing, though I suspect she’s a sharp operative under that plain exterior.
Someone mentioned Trash-san was overly worried about the fallout. Might as well check in on her, too.
”I’m truly sorry for that,” she said, her face clouding with regret.
”It’s fine, really,” I said. “But I still can’t forgive them for hitting Maggot-san. Is this lantern your way of making up for it?”
As expected, guilt flickered across her face.
I’m the type to ask tough questions bluntly—it’s the best way to get honest answers. I toyed with the mini lantern, its cute design tempting me to keep it by my bedside.
”No, not at all,” she said quickly. “I’d never think a mere gift could atone for that. I was the fool for believing those idiots at the assembly.”
Her words spilled out like a confession, heavy with pent-up remorse.
She hadn’t had much contact with me before, so she’d never apologized for my missing time. I listened quietly, knowing I needed to help her process this.
When she finished, I spoke up, aiming to comfort. “It’s not like that. I think you’re a good person, Trash-san. I believed in the assembly, too. We’re the same.”
”Young Master…” she started, her voice dipping into melancholy.
I grabbed her hand—my small hands barely covering her scarred, larger one. “It’s okay. We’re safe now, right? Time moves forward. Besides, I’m the one who agreed to go.”
I gently squeezed, tracing her fingers to avoid fresh scars. These are the hands of someone who’s worked hard for me. It felt like the right thing to do.
”Anyway, I don’t fully get it, but it’s fine,” I said. “This lantern’s beautiful, and I like you, Trash-san.”
She looked up, her expression softening. In this world, women beat themselves up when it comes to guys, and it’s hard to keep up with their emotions.
All I got was her regret, but I wasn’t sure how to comfort her properly. Screw it, go with the flow.
”It’ll work out,” I said firmly.
”But… I wasn’t there when you were suffering,” she said, voice trembling. “I cursed myself for it.”
Okay, I’m not equipped for delicate heart-to-hearts, I thought.
I had no clever words, just a vague hope that things would be fine. All I wanted was for her to cheer up.
I kept stroking her hand for about five minutes, silent but steady.
”Young Master, your hands…” she said, blushing slightly.
”These scars… you’ve been working hard for me, haven’t you? Thank you.”
She looked down, embarrassed. I pretended not to notice.
As a guy in a 1000:1 gender ratio world, I’m clueless about the kind of embarrassment she’s feeling. Eventually, she placed her other hand over mine.
”I caused trouble for everyone,” she said. “I swear I’ll make up for this mistake. I’ll protect you from any enemy, Young Master.”
”Got it. I’m counting on you,” I replied.
Her sincerity was unmistakable.
Trash-san’s guilt over supporting the town assembly decision that hurt Maggot-san and me was obvious. She’s the kind of honest person who believes in people’s goodness, and I had no intention of blaming her.
Well, that’s settled… I thought, satisfied.
We held hands for a while, our eyes locked in close proximity. Up close, I could see a spark gradually light up in her gaze.
The power of a guy in this world is something else, I mused. Like watering a withered tree.
Alright, serious moment over. I cut through the tension, ready to lighten the mood.
”Young Master…?” Trash-san ventured, her voice tinged with suspicion. She hesitated, unable to pull away forcefully, and gently loosened her grip.
Reluctantly, I let go. My healing time, gone. What a shame.
But then—ugh, how vulgar of me—her touch reminded a certain part of my body that Trash-san’s a woman. To be blunt, I was a little worked up.
Great, tonight I’ll probably end up thinking about her in the shower. How pathetic is that? Tomorrow, I’d hold her scarred hands again with my own hardworking ones. I’m the worst.
”W-what’s wrong?” Trash-san asked, her voice sharp with concern. “Please, tell me anything.”
Crap, it’s showing on my face. No way I could explain that.
I forced a neutral expression. Wait, she’s worried about Maggot-san’s hospitalization. Perfect.
”Hey, since Maggot-san’s in the hospital, there’s something I’d like you to do for me,” I said.
”Leave it to me! Anything I can do, anything at all,” she replied, practically leaping at the chance.
”Anything?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
”Whether it’s Maggot’s duties or even risking my life, I’m ready.”
”Even taking over her duties?”
”I’ll do my absolute best.”
Anything… What a tempting offer.
Trash-san’s the type to keep a secret. I smirked, a dark glint in my eye.
* * *
”Seriously? Maggot-san was doing this?!” Trash-san exclaimed.
Midnight. My dark room was lit only by the warm glow of the Chinese lantern plant.
I’d decided to betray her sincerity for my own desires. Sorry, Trash-san. My body’s young, and you’re honestly super attractive.
I confessed that Maggot-san had been sleeping with me every night.
And now, I asked Trash-san to take her place. Of course, I kept the full extent of those nights a secret.
In the red light, Trash-san stood in a single shirt and pants, clutching a towel to cover her front, twisting her hips to avoid my gaze. Her stunning face contrasted with a body full of sensual curves—perfectly proportioned bust, small hips, long legs.
”Why the towel? I don’t mind,” I said casually.
”My scars… This isn’t a body fit for a male to see!” she protested.
It wasn’t about her feeling excited by being seen; rather, she thought it improper for a young male like me to see her, a mix of educational concern and prim embarrassment. Classic Trash-san.
Her scarred, lithe body gleamed with an almost overwhelming realism in the lantern’s glow. So damn hot.
With her refined, almost poetic demeanor, even her embarrassment had elegance. Her face flushed red, but her expression remained graceful yet resolute.
”Come on, you’re covering for Maggot-san’s duties, right?” I said, peering into her face with a playful plea. I was betting she’d go along with it.
”Ngh…” she faltered.
Totally worth it. With Maggot-san, underwear sometimes got in the way. So, I decided Trash-san should sleep in just a shirt and pants—my learning simulation settings were leveling up daily.
Her night watch had been shifted to midnight-to-morning at my request. Officially, it was me being considerate, keeping her close to ease her guilt.
”I could never doubt you, Young Master,” she said, wavering.
”Exactly, exactly,” I nodded.
”Sleeping together… It’s hard to believe.”
It sounded absurdly suspicious, but Maggot-san was my proof. I offered to have her confirm via terminal, and Trash-san relented.
What started as a learning simulation lie had grown, baiting Maggot-san and now ensnaring Trash-san. That terminal’s my Doraemon, always on my side.
”Come on, over here,” I said, rolling onto the bed sheet. “Scoot in close—the bed’s small.”
”Oh… my reason… Young Master is so innocent…” she murmured, trembling as she climbed in.
”Don’t worry about what the others think. Keep it a secret, okay?”
I grabbed her hand and pulled her onto the bed.
Her gorgeous face was inches away, close enough to feel her breath. She’s got such a refined, princely look.
She turned her head, avoiding my gaze with all her might.
”Time for bed,” I said, mimicking her earlier tone. “I’m right here. Relax.”
Okay, that sounded a bit theatrical.
I played with her fine bangs, noting she avoided hairpins to keep metal from touching her skin. Another point for her.
”Your face is really pretty, Trash-san. Do you get a lot of attention from other women?” I asked.
”W-what? Where did you—” she stammered, visibly tense.
”It was in the history textbook. Short-haired women sometimes have romantic relationships with other women, right?”
She let out a short breath, inching away from me.
”Are you like that, too?” I pressed.
”My short hair is for exploration—it’s practical,” she said, flustered. “Society might assume otherwise, and… well, I do get some attention, but…”
I leaned closer, closing the gap she’d created.
Trapped, she looked half-ready to cry, her breath shaky. Kids have the upper hand in moments like this. It felt like a school trip, chatting in the futon, and Trash-san was adorable.
But I didn’t want her falling off the bed, so I backed off a bit.
”You know, the Imperial Guards treat me like a kid, but I’m learning a lot. Adulthood’s not far off, so don’t hide stuff from me, okay?”
I brushed off the fact that I’d demanded we sleep together, doubling down on my point. “Don’t hide stuff about that from me,” I said, calling out her secrecy.
Wow, I’m a hypocrite, I thought.
Acting all innocent while scheming like this? Pretty shameless.
”It’s… too early for you, Young Master,” Trash-san replied, flustered. “Learning about sexual matters isn’t wrong—it’s natural to grow curious without aversion—but still…”
”Liar! You’re hiding something,” I teased. “There’s definitely a secret you don’t want me to know.”
She shook her head frantically. “N-no! Why is this gentleman so innocent in just this one area? You’re so intelligent otherwise!”
I’m not innocent, I’m just lecherous, I smirked inwardly.
In this world, male sexual development has three stages: childhood, where you’re clueless about sex; puberty, where you start avoiding the opposite sex; and adulthood, where you treat it like a job.
To them, I’m a boy stuck in the first stage, fumbling toward the second. That’s why the active division guards pamper me so freely—they see me as a cute, clueless kid.
I locked eyes with her again. “So, have you ever done a smooch?”
”A k-kiss?!” she stammered.
”Yeah, a chu~,” I said, mimicking the sound.
She froze, clearly caught off guard. “W-well, that’s…”
She hesitated, torn. If I were a puberty-stage male, she’d have clammed up.
Sharing sexual knowledge with guys is delicate—one wrong move can shape their common sense irreversibly. But a little boy’s innocent curiosity about romance? That’s different.
I leaned in, whispering near her ear.
”Wanna try it? You and me, Trash-san.”
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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