Chapter 63 - If You Can't Take The Female Heat...

Akira Maximilian was on a mission. Or rather, more of a sidequest of sorts. The objective: to find a certain special type of somebody, for a certain special job she had in mind. As a gift, for Ai.

Classes had ended for the evening, so she knew just which spots to look at. Starting at the stove room...

"Can you train my friend in her cooking skill?"

She asked every [Dragon Monk Pizza Chef] that was there the same exact question, receiving mostly grunts and angry glares in response. Not an encouraging start.

'Well, I guess it makes sense. They're employees, so they can't just be pulled away at random."

Finding no success there, albeit a few tasty pilfered pepperonis nonetheless, Akira moved on to the primary dojo where she had even less luck, since Kanna and Vash were there.

Kanna had just downed the latest in a string of sparring opponents she'd faced in a row that evening, winning against every single one feeling glorious with her shoddy wooden false katana in hand. She was pulling her head back, wiping the sweat off her brow, when Akira entered and stood frozen in the doorway.

"You're training today, Akira?" she questioned, showing her teeth in a mocking grin. "I thought you were always too high and mighty to train with us maggots."

The tension in the air came on so thick, one could slice through it with a wodao.

Vash was seated in a corner of the room, almost like she was cowering at Kanna's back, glancing up briefly with a feeble wave as Akira had entered. "Hi, Akira," she softly said, earning a rebukeful stare from Kanna.

But Akira Maximilian wasn't interested in any of this petty drama, and nor was he one to beat around the bush when it came to resolving personal matters.

"Quit being a jealous bitch, Kanna," she said with a plain face, her voice barely rising a few decibels to exude any remote hint of anger. "I know you and Ai are still talking. And well, I'm only here for her sake—to find someone that'll help teach her how to quit burning stuff."

Kanna bristled, her eyes wide in a menacing glare. "But where's your new girl now, huh?"

"Training," Akira succinctly replied, briefly sighing. So immature…!

Kanna laughed. Akira raised an eyebrow.

"What's so funny...?"

"Since you've started fattening up Ai, I was the last fit person in the party," she said, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes. "Nice to know I've already been replaced."

"I'm not 'fattening' Ai—she's doing it by herself!"

"Suuuuuuuure."

"And what do you mean by 'replaced?' You couldn't mean…"

Kanna strode right up to Akira's face, resting the false katana on her shoulder while smirking; unintimidated by the latter's resolute stance. Her reply, as she leaned downward, bringing their faces so close that their noses almost touched, was like snake's venom:

"Vash and I are quitting the party."

Akira's previously restrained eyes shot open, the corners of her mouth turning to a frown. "You can't be serious…!"

"Oh, but I am!" She leaned back, giving a wicked laugh. "Vash is going to change back into his Human form, and we're going to buy a house in Acquama Town to settle in for the late-game lifestyle!"

"Shh!" Vash sprang forward suddenly, looking embarrassed. "Don't talk about our future plans so loudly…"

"But why not, babe? I want Akira to know we'll be safe," Kanna said with a mischievous glint in her eye, her gaze never once breaking from Akira as she proceeded to wrap both her arms and a leg around Vash. Not even while "passionately" seizing her by the lips.

Her true intent was brazenly obvious.

Akira bit her lip. So, this is how you want to play it?

Vash, meanwhile, gave Akira a sheepish grin". I'm really sorry, Akira. I don't really want to leave you. It's just, I've always wanted to be a father, and Kanna—"

Akira held Vash's shoulder, stopping her before she could finish. "You don't have to apologize," she said, smiling warmly. "If this is your stab at a life you've always dreamed of, then take it." Adding under her breath, "you deserve it, friend."

Vash looked to be on the verge of tears. Her lip fumbling, too emotional to speak.

"It's alright," Akira said, her lips sliding into Vash's for a kiss lasting the span of a breath. After which, she partially turned away while casting one final, sideways glance at Kanna—recieving daggers in return—with her own gaze hardening once more, before then quietly retreating from the dojo.

...

Eventually, Akira found what she was looking for, and sought out Ai resting in the ample shade of a tree on the monastery grounds.

"Ai, this is Guy Fly..."

"He's agreed to help train you in your Cooking skill."

Ai, jumping up, looked at the man: tall and masculine, with bizarrely spiked bleach white hair, wearing a pair of color tinted sunglasses and a flame-patterned black gi with black cargo pants--and let out an excited gasp, her precious brown eyes shimmering.

"A pleasure—"she hugged him, taking turns pecking him once on each side of his face, then drawing her neck back to face him with a beaming smile. "I hope you'll take good care of me, Fly-Sensei."

You'll teach me so I won't burn grilled cheese no more?!"

In his reply, he leaned back sharply--performing an odd, perhaps arcane gesture: with his left hand reaching forward, and his other held back with a pointed "finger gun."

"That's right, little momma!" He said. "I'm the best in town, and always glad to help newbies!" 

His can-do attitude seemed to abruptly shift, though, just as his gaze lingered for an inordinately long time on Ai's belly, although it was hard to tell for sure on account of his super cool sunglasses.

"Yeesh, little lady!" he shouted, the low corners of his lips curled in horror. "Did you have some bad kebabs, or something? 'Cuz that belly is lookin' ULTRA gnarly!" 

Ai didn't care that she looked "ultra gnarly," though; she remained ecstatic, as she quickly changed out of her sauna towel back into her gi: which now, due to her ever-expanding motherly physique, couldn't be closed and barely covered her drooping large breasts. After which, she happily followed Akira and Guy Fly, back to the scene of her earlier sandwich-related crime that had prompted all of this.

At once, Guy Fly had already retrieved a set of ingredients: bread, lettuce, tomatoes and [Daoist Squeeze Mustard], planting them all on the counter before Ai.

He then explained, "it's important to know the Cooking rank requirement of a meal you're trying to make."

"How might I do that?" She asked dearly.

"Simple as pie," he answered as he swiftly loaded up his Dao Menu, then proceeded to navigate through it via his deep fried brain thoughts, until he found the [Life Skills] tab. Upon selecting it, a sprawling list of culinary recipes filled the menu screen, sorted by their cooking rank requirements ranging from Novice, to Grandmaster. "Every recipe you gain: whether you know it from your past life, by reading about it, being taught by another player or discovering it through your own experimentation--it all gets automatically added to this list."

Ai's face lit up with awe, watching him scroll through the seemingly endless collection of curious cuisines."Wow, Fly-Sensei!" She exclaimed. "Which one are you gonna show me how to cook?"

"You're a Rank Novice chef, so we have to start small."

He laid two pieces of bread on a plate.

"We're gonna make what's called a [BLT]."

"BLT?" Her tail swished in the air cutely. "What's that?"

"Bacon. Lettuce. And finally--"

Suddenly, Ai felt a strong, American hand clutching at her plump right buttcheek, like it was the last hot dog on the barbecue grill on the fourth of July.

"Fly-sensei!" she gasped. "Are you--"

"Listen here, little momma," he whispered intensely, into her ear, "You're my piece of squirrel jerky now--and if you say a word to anyone, you can just kiss your chances of learning from the best chef there ever was goodbye." 

He squeezed her again, even harder, as this time, all she mustered was a frail moan: too unfit to fight in her current state, both in mind and in body.

As a devout mother, she belonged to any man that could claim her.

"Do I make myself clear, sweet-cheeks?" He asked, hovering close behind her, massaging his hands gently as a pastry cook, kneading in circles across Ai's doughy back as he waited with bated breath for an answer.

Ai glanced around, seeing Akira had gone.

She bit her lip, swallowing nervously. Wanting so badly to learn how to cook a BLT for her future baby—but at what terrible cost?

Guy Fly's hands grabbed at her breasts, lacking the softness and subtlety of Akira's one touch. Like he was tacitly claiming the milk stored therein, as an ingredient for his next [Mystery Cheese Heart-Stopper Fondue; almost like he already knew her answer—simply desiring to experience the sadistic joy and satisfaction of hearing it said out loud.

"Of course." Ai said. "I'll dedicate my heart and soul to you, as your wife, from this day on."

"So long as you—"

"Tomato!" Guy Fly abruptly said in his normal, boisterous tone, while drawing away from Ai as though nothing extraordinary had happened at all. "Bacon. Lettuce. Tomato. That's what [BLT] stands for!"

"Wow! You're so talented," she said. Then, giggling vapidly before immediately latching onto his arms—such that her lovely breasts wrapped around it, shrouding it in her intimate warmth that was, only mere seconds ago, only catered to Akira.

She licked her lips, overwhelmed by the salacious thoughts now swirling through her head.

"Let's take this somewhere more...private."

Fernispla meanwhile, during this unfolding affair, only had one thing to say on the matter...

"Bitch! I don't even like BLTs!"