I Sealed Sukuna’s Finger#382+383: Natsuki-chan? Time for the Two Witches to Dance Together

While Bokue Keikain was thoroughly "charging" Astarte in the office, in the break room next door, Natsuki Minamiya—who should've passed out immediately after an all-nighter—found herself tossing and turning.

After all, she hadn't fallen asleep by her own will in ten whole years.

For the past decade, though her body had been sleeping in the Prison Barrier, it was less "sleeping" and more being trapped as an anchor pinning down endless dreams.

Meanwhile, her consciousness remained perpetually awake—teaching students at Saikai Academy during the day, then working as a senior Attack Mage for the island's Special Security Force after school to maintain order in the Demon District.

Setting aside the income from such a workload, only someone like Natsuki who didn't need sleep could handle it.

But this created a new problem for her.

She'd forgotten how to sleep.

What should've been an instinct for all animals had been forcibly erased by Natsuki's decade of unhealthy habits.

She was now like someone who'd stayed up playing on their phone too long, brain abnormally excited—exhausted and desperate for sleep, yet unable to drift off no matter how tightly she closed her eyes.

Actually, she was worse off. She'd been pulling all-nighters for ten straight years.

"This is killing me..."

After lying motionless in bed for five minutes without feeling even a hint of drowsiness, Natsuki opened her eyes helplessly.

She'd tried everything—recalling how it felt to sleep back when she could, relaxing her entire body, clearing her mind.

But not a trace of sleepiness would come.

At this rate, she'd become the first witch to die from violent insomnia after leaving the Prison Barrier.

Maybe returning to the Prison Barrier would be better. At least it forced sleep and prevented insomnia, for the sake of her health... hmm?

'Master... Master...'

Just as the insomniac gothic girl was even considering rebuilding her Prison Barrier, faint sounds from next door disrupted her thoughts.

??

Though muffled by the wall, Natsuki was one hundred percent certain that was Astarte's voice.

After all, this break room and her office next door were originally a matched set. In fact, the break room door hadn't originally opened to the hallway—it connected directly to the office.

But later, finding the break room unnecessary, Natsuki had blocked the connecting door with a bookshelf and opened a new door to the hallway, normally just for Astarte to use when playing by herself.

But this voice coming through the gap behind the bookshelf sounded like...

And that "Master" address...

Though Natsuki hadn't known Astarte very long—barely half a month since summer—she'd basically figured out the subtle emotional changes in her speech patterns.

Again, Astarte's emotions were minimal, not nonexistent.

But this tone was unlike anything she'd heard before, and no matter how she listened, it sounded like... tch.

Without needing to think hard, Bokue Keikain's image instantly floated into Natsuki's mind.

After all, he was the only one Astarte would call "Master," while she'd only ever called Natsuki "Director"—a title, not a relationship.

Besides, she was a high school homeroom teacher. In Japan, where there was no concept of "too young to date," high school textbooks already covered physiology thoroughly.

So even as a twenty-six-year-old virgin, Natsuki knew exactly what that tone meant.

Wait, those two actually dared to do that in her office...?!

As if some strange switch had been flipped, with an odd feeling welling up, Natsuki's small toes wrapped in black stockings suddenly curled tight under the covers.

Wait, what was happening?

As if her heart skipped a beat, Natsuki held her breath sharply.

Recalling what just happened—after realizing what was occurring next door, her mind involuntarily conjured images of that guy with Astarte, then her body unconsciously...

Just remembering brought back that peculiar sensation, this time making Natsuki's legs shift under the covers, involuntarily pressing together slightly.

Damn it, why was just thinking about it doing this to her?

Natsuki couldn't help gritting her teeth.

She'd known accepting Bokue's power would have certain subtle "effects" on her body, gradually making her like Nagisa and Yukina, ultimately unable to leave him.

But this was happening way too fast! What kind of female-targeting special attack was this? This ability was way too perverted!

After mentally cursing several times, Natsuki irritably turned to face the wall, forcing her eyes closed to ignore those annoying sounds.

Not listening, not listening, time to sleep!

But despite her words, after Natsuki turned over and pulled up the covers, the moisture in the blanket only grew heavier, seeping unstoppably from deep within those black stockings.

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

Scene shift to the office next door.

As Bokue and Astarte finished another round of "charging," the two behind the desk paused briefly.

Bokue sat in the office chair where Natsuki usually wrote reports, hands supporting the slender waist of the blue-haired girl in his lap.

Whether Astarte had really "specialized" her body to fit him as she'd claimed, despite being even smaller than Nagisa, she could sit perfectly stable facing peaks nearly thirty centimeters high, fitting together flawlessly.

Even Yukina couldn't manage this.

"Astarte?"

"[Re... ceived.]"

Completely lacking her usual robot-like stability, the blue-haired girl was taking small breaths with her mouth open, her voice coming in fragments.

"Does Master have any... gulp... complaints about Astarte's performance today...?"

"None."

Bokue hugged the blue-haired girl closer, scooting forward in the chair to leave space between himself and the backrest, making it easier for Astarte to wrap her legs behind.

"Just noticed you seem especially invested today."

"...[Explanation.]"

As if embarrassed by his description, Astarte's blush deepened. After a pause, she spoke:

"That's because the Director is in the break room next door. She looked very tired when she left the office, so I wanted to wake her this way. When the Director comes over, Master can [charge] her too."

"Oh~ I see."

Bokue made an understanding sound.

"Then after I finish charging you up, I'll go check on Natsuki."

"...!"

As those words fell, in the break room next door, the gothic girl wrapped tightly in her blanket—seemingly asleep—reflexively twitched.

The humidity under her covers increased several degrees more.

<><><><><><><><>

After about another hour, as the blue-haired girl's body trembled violently like a robot receiving a command, Bokue Keikain pulled her into a tight embrace.

For nearly two hours, they hadn't left this desk once. Now came the final moments.

"Now I'm... completely charged."

The speaker wasn't Bokue but Astarte.

Perhaps the long, intense charging session had drained her energy, preventing her from maintaining her usual machine-like precision of thought. This time, she didn't use those system-prompt-like prefixes.

As Bokue's arms tightened around her in the office chair, Astarte wrapped her pale arms around his neck, lifting her face to whisper in his ear:

"Thank you for the meal, Master. Astarte loves Master most of all."

"...Mm."

Even Bokue was momentarily stunned by the blue-haired girl's sudden declaration.

After all, Astarte would never have said something like this before. Having been treated as a disposable biological weapon since birth, she'd always considered herself a tool.

And tools didn't need subjective consciousness—they only stated objective facts.

Yet this was Astarte's first time expressing subjective feelings—likes or dislikes.

Thinking about it, if this continued, Astarte would gradually become more like a normal girl rather than the artificial life form she'd been.

That wouldn't be bad at all...

As Bokue pondered this, the blue-haired girl nestled in his arms gently tugged at his collar.

"[Reminder], Master said earlier that after charging Astarte, you'd check on the Director. I believe now would be perfect timing."

"Right."

Bokue hadn't forgotten.

Though was it his imagination, or did Astarte's tone carry a hint of anticipation when mentioning this?

Was that... right?

Buzz buzz—

Just then, his phone vibrated in his pocket.

"Wait, someone's calling..."

As shameful as it was to admit, Bokue's heart dropped when he realized he had an incoming call.

He'd promised Asagi last night he'd come home early, yet he'd stayed out all night. This morning had been Yuuma and Aya, now Astarte, and probably Natsuki next.

He'd completely forgotten about his actual girlfriend...

But when he saw the caller ID, he was both surprised and relieved.

It was actually Yuuma calling?

"...Hello? Yuuma?"

Without hesitation, he answered and brought the phone to his ear.

The moment he spoke, the short-haired girl's energetic voice came through.

"Hey Bokue, Bokue! Reminder—you forgot something this morning."

"I forgot? What was it?"

Bokue grew more puzzled.

"Tsk tsk, looks like you really did forget."

Yuuma clicked her tongue on the other end.

"Remember what you promised Miss Minamiya yesterday in the Prison Barrier? About having Aya Tokoyogi wear a maid outfit and work for Miss Minamiya to earn her own living?"

"Oh..."

Bokue froze.

Come to think of it... yeah, that had happened.

"That should jog your memory, right?"

Yuuma hummed.

"But you forgot to take Aya with you this morning. Though since I'm a prison escapee and shouldn't appear before Miss Minamiya, I'll just teleport her directly over. You handle the rest, Bokue."

"Uh, sure." Since he was going to charge Natsuki anyway, Bokue agreed.

"OK, I'll hang up then. I'll send her right over, then I need to catch up on sleep." Yuuma seemed to stifle a yawn on the other end, adding drowsily:

"Got up so early this morning, now it's noon and I'm tired again... Well, that's it then."

The call ended.

Bokue believed the short-haired girl's promise to "send her right over," so after pocketing his phone, he waited quietly.

But a minute passed with no sign of the promised delivery.

Did she get the wrong place?

Bokue fell into contemplation.

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

Meanwhile, in the break room next door—

Unable to fall asleep even after completely soaking her black stockings, Natsuki stared expressionlessly at the suddenly teleported, disheveled twelve-layered beauty before her. She threw off the covers and sat up on the bed's edge.

"Disheveled" was putting it diplomatically.

More accurately, she was covered in semi-transparent white glue-like liquid, reeking of hawthorn flowers from head to toe.

The smell was so strong that even Natsuki, sitting three meters away on the bed, could clearly detect it.

For the first time, the psychologically twenty-six-year-old gothic girl experienced the feeling of "not knowing what expression to make."

"Aya Tokoyogi, though I don't know why you suddenly appeared here, we've known each other this long—this is the first time I've seen you in such a state."

Like she'd just been fished out of a pool full of semen.

Natsuki added mentally.

But that was too explosive to say aloud.

"Well, now you've seen it..."

Aya rolled her eyes, too exhausted to argue.

She had no energy left to argue anyway. Since arriving at the hotel last night, she'd become a fountain—except for a few hours of sleep, she hadn't stopped. This morning had been even worse, then that sudden "pressure release" had knocked her unconscious.

Now she'd just regained consciousness only to be dumped here.

"Looks like that guy really put you through the wringer."

Natsuki sighed, complaining casually. But before she could ask, the break room door suddenly pushed open from outside.

Then came a certain youth's voice from the doorway.

"Oh, so that's where Yuuma teleported her—right here."

!!!

In the break room, both witches trembled at that voice, turning toward the source like a switch had been flipped.

Natsuki managed better, just instinctively shifting her gaze.