Mob Yandere

[Part 1/4]

The air... thick with heat. Suffocating.

The air... thick with frenzy. Overwhelming.

Sweat, flung outwards in a thousand droplets.

The girl, her skin the color of wheat, danced with a savage joy.

She'd cast off almost everything that could be called clothing, wearing only sheer silk and delicate gold jewelry.

She writhed with pleasure, flesh trembling, hair tossed back, voices raw... no shame to be found.

She'd already given everything. What was there left to be ashamed of?

The celebratory song continued, a layered chorus.

Sung in her own voices, her fervent faith became clearer, more undeniable.

The dim, warm light from the Shokudai (candle stands) painted her skin, making her even more bewitchingly alluring.

And now, the sacred dance.

How long would this variation continue?

Wildly, wildly, wildly, wildly... gasping for breath, cheeks flushed, and pouring sweat like pearls, the girl, a tribute to the honor of the offering.

...And watching it all, enthroned upon a mountain of flesh.

──The guest of honor at this wicked night feast.

Red, fleshy, with countless tentacles, swollen with tumors that burst, spewing foul-smelling ichor, just... existing.

No applause, no whistles, not even a crude laugh.

Just... observation.

Of course.

There was no joy in receiving what was given.

Only the taking of the expected tribute.

No, there was no enjoyment.

It wasn't worth the effort for these creatures.

It was simply... consumption. A task.

"......!"

One of the clinging servants said something.

Operating almost mechanically, by instinct alone, its consciousness shut down, it reflexively swiveled its countless eyeballs toward the speaker.

Like the others, their skin was touched, embraced by the tentacles, and shallow bite marks were carved by its many "mouths," then licked.

Drenched in ichor from the head, mixed with perfume, creating an indescribable fragrance.

Possessions... the proof of complete ownership was being mercilessly carved, smeared, and soaked into their flesh and blood, their life, their soul. The servant gazed at it, lost in a dream.

What use could it possibly have... feeling burdensome, they ponder something and let it serve the others waiting around, but before they can, it acts.

Reaching out to the silver bottle, it drinks the cloudy sake, long and deep.

White streaks drip from the corners of its mouth as it eagerly anticipates.

'...'

Its lower jaw splits into 6, and in a twisted act of mercy, it spares.

Overlaying the mouth... no, it might as well have devoured half the face.

A kiss too ominous for words.

Sharp teeth brush against the flesh.

If not for the copious saliva, it might have torn the beauty apart.

A slug-like tongue drenches, lapping at the cheeks, forehead, tousling the hair, and twisting into the gaps between the lips.

Penetrating the defenseless mouth, it pushes deep into the throat, treating itself to the immature sake.

"Huh...!! ...!!!!"

After draining them dry, playing roughly within the mouth, it loses interest once its victim spasms and expels, carelessly leaving without a second glance.

Several strands of silver thread, foamy, dangle down.

The servant pleads for more, but it's already lost interest.

Yet, still they beg for deeper service, only to be carelessly tossed aside.

The silver threads stretch while spinning in mid-air, and then, piling up, a new arrival joins the mountain of flesh.

Separated, they let out faint sobs, their juice-drenched hands reaching out like infants, not a glance given.

That's the trouble with those who don't know their place.

Its priorities lie elsewhere, after all.

"...!"

The empty space is quickly filled by another, as if drawn in.

With an upward glance, it flutters its charm, chirping words of gratitude.

It would be rude not to partake in the meal set before you.

It squeezes tightly, extracting every last drop.

Not a single precious drop should be wasted.

Sip. Sip. Sip. Sip.

Before you know it, the dancing miko in front have all been drained dry.

Carried away like objects, their last gasps fade as they're removed, only for replacements to rush in immediately.

Adorned with only a hairpin and necklace, Kagura Suzu (Sacred bells) chime.

They chant hymns and dance, worshiping the supreme existence.

They believe it...

'...'

But for the flesh, it was trivial.

So, once more, it dozes off.

Spinning, spinning, the world turns upside down.

Dreams become reality.

Reality becomes dreams...

* * *

Shave, shave, shave... Everyone watched as it was scraped away.

Bursting from the clear, cold mass, sparkling like powdered snow, piling up in the crystal bowl.

A mountain of icy powder began to rise.

Just watching it cooled the air.

Indeed, the released cold air was chilling the garden.

"What flavor would you like?"

Mio tilted her head, asking.

Glancing at the many bottles on the pedestal, I hesitated for a moment and then pointed to one.

"Understood... Can I use this too?"

Pleased with my affirmation, Mio continued preparing the dish.

Juicy, ripe watermelon, peaches, plums, pears, and pineapple... she swiftly dismantled them with a knife, cooled in clear water, then cut them into bite-sized pieces and arranged them like jewels.

A round, scooped vanilla ice confection was placed on top of the ice mountain, and then melon juice with melted sugar was poured over it.

The colorless, transparent ice mountain was vividly colored in fresh green.

Finally, as a finishing touch, a white, cloudy liquid was drizzled over it.

Sweet, sweet condensed milk.

"Now then, a special dish just for Master, made by theEstate! 'Sweet, Ripe Ice King'!! Please, enjoy!"

"Whoa... A sugar rush, huh?"

In a word, it was sweetness, equal to God, and then a double dose of sweetness on top of that.

Even I thought it might be too much.

Seriously, who came up with that name?

Doesn't it sound a little... off?

"Anyone want some? Hey, how about you guys? It's sweet, ya know?"

As if saying, "Come with me, I'll give you sweets," I beckoned the younger maids-in-training, led by Shii and Fuumi.

Everyone stared at the shaved ice, but they scattered like a bunch of spiders at the coughs of the older maids from behind.

"Master, we have already prepared some for them. We all made it for Master's sake. Please, be considerate."

Kuzu spoke up on their behalf, as I was about to share some.

Several of the maids behind her nodded in agreement.

I'd been letting the little brats snack on things a little too often...

"Alright, alright. I'll eat it. It's not like I hate it. But..."

"But?"

"Isn't it a lot?"

"..."

The older maids exchanged glances, each taking in the mountain of shaved ice before them.

Again, they looked at the ice, then each other.

Silence.

That was the answer.

My head was buzzing, and my stomach felt worse than just queasy.

Yet, it was only proper to leave some, especially since it was summer ice.

A luxury at its peak, meant to be devoured before it melted.

"How about it? Wanna try a bite? Taste it, and then we can always get more."

"..."

Kuzu gave each of them a third round of looks at my suggestion.

But there was a hint of hesitation in their gaze.

They seemed to communicate something with just their eyes... and Kuzu stepped forward.

"Would it be all right if everyone here took a bite?"

"Why not 2 or 3 bites instead?"

They proposed with such politeness, I had to answer with a scowl.

And then I scooped up a spoonful.

"What kind of fruit would you like?"

"...Peach."

"Understood."

I added a piece of peach and soaked the ice in juice before offering it on a spoon.

"Here, take it..."

"I will."

"Hey...! Come on, seriously?"

Kuzu tried to take the spoon, but before I could hand it over, she chomped down on it.

In a hurry, but dangerous to wave it around with her mouth.

I steadied myself, trying not to budge an inch.

"Mmm... nngh, shack, nn, phwaah"

With an upper gaze, she licked the spoon around, hair flowing back as she made a splashing sound, before finally pulling away.

A string stretched and drooped down...

"...This silver spoon shouldn't absorb the flavor, right?"

It was a silver spoon, after all, not wood.

The juice shouldn't soak into the spoon itself.

If you wanted more sweetness, you could just take another bite now.

"No, it absorbed the flavor quite well."

"...?"

"Next, I'll ask the next girl."

Kuzu moved aside, flowing past me as she yielded the floor to a colleague.

The next in line, Uzuki, shot me a momentary glare before quickly recomposing herself and asking for a lychee.

"Aahhn, please!"

"Such a spoiled brat. Here, aahhn."

"Plop!"

Uzuki playfully bit the spoon, looking over here with a "hmmhmhm" as she gnawed on it.

She opened her mouth wide and let go of the spoon.

...Come to think of it, maybe I should have washed it every time?

"No worries, though?"

"Maybe you're fine with it, but... what about the others?"

Uzuki, at least, hadn't complained afterward, but the rest might feel differently. I asked the remaining girls, but their answers were chaotic:

"I'm fine as is..."

"We're all mixed up anyway, right?"

"I'm okay with Master's leftovers~"

"Should we just pass it mouth-to-mouth?"

"Whoa, that's going too far..."

Shrugging at their ambiguous responses, I asked the next girl her preference. *No mouth-to-mouth, though.*

"...Wait, there's more of them now."

By the time I'd moved to the third girl, new maids had lined up behind us, giggling and covering their mouths with their sleeves, eagerly waiting their turn—some even waving me over. Chasing them away felt... unfair?

"...."

*Well, at least no one's getting sick...* Comparing the mountain of shaved ice to the growing crowd, I decided to let it slide.

* * *

The wind chimes tinkled, their summer melody a feeble attempt to cool the air. Useless as pouring water on a hot stone, but it's something.

"We've been sprinkling water, but it's still... so hot."

"That's just the season, I suppose. Should I do it myself?"

Lying on the veranda with a knee pillow, gazing at the garden, I suggested. The girl acting as my pillow, fanning me with a hand fan, made me feel slightly guilty. After finishing my shaved ice, I lounged with my legs crossed, thinking: *Shouldn't I at least fan myself?*

"Your thoughtfulness is enough, Master. Please, don't hold back with a mere servant like me."

Ran, with her tropical foreign-like features, wheat-toned skin, and beauty mark, smiled seductively, chuckling. I didn't quite get what was so funny.

"Still... pushing through the heat isn't good for you."

"I'm used to this kind of weather. Or should I loosen my clothes?"

"Do whatever you need without asking me. I'd be in trouble if you stopped fanning."

"True. Not fanning would be the real issue. Then..."