Hiros53 - Reality Joker Boys' Night (P5 Various TGs/TFs/Expansions)

Okay, at least I am with the boys now. Surely now it will be easy to… not think about things like… Boobs… and thighs… and… God damnit, not again!

—

There were certain traditions in life that deserved protection, and boys' night was definitely one of them. 

At least, that was what I kept telling myself while standing outside Leblanc with one hand resting against the front door, staring at the handle like opening it might somehow make the evening worse before it had even properly started.

Everything was prepared exactly the way it should have been. Drinks were cold, snacks were waiting upstairs, controllers were charged, and I had even made sure we had enough games downloaded that nobody could spend half the evening arguing about what we should install.

We had been planning this for weeks, which made my current desire to suddenly fake an illness feel especially pathetic. Just me, Morgana, Ryuji, and Yusuke spending an evening playing games, eating junk food, talking nonsense, and generally pretending that adulthood had not made getting four people into the same room considerably harder than stealing hearts ever was.

Normally, I would have been looking forward to it.

Unfortunately, my definition of normal had experienced some severe damage recently. For years, I had managed to convince myself that my reality-changing imagination had one extremely questionable but at least somewhat reliable limitation. 

It seemed to only become dangerous around women.

That was how Ann, Makoto, Haru, and Futaba had ended up the way they were now. Every stupid little fantasy had somehow become another adjustment to reality, until my friends had turned into the sort of women who could only exist if anatomy, physics, and common sense all agreed to break a few rules.

The last beach trip had certainly proven that the problem was not getting any better. Ann's backside had continued doing terrible things to furniture, Makoto's chest remained large enough to block significant portions of the horizon, Haru looked capable of bench-pressing public transportation, and Futaba still possessed twice as many heads and arms as anyone reasonably needed.

It was ridiculous, but at least I thought I understood the rules.

Not ideal, obviously, but manageable.

At least my male friends were safe.

…

That particular assumption had aged extremely poorly.

So there I stood outside Leblanc, supposedly waiting for boys' night to begin, while privately wondering whether I could still claim some sudden stomach ache without anyone becoming suspicious. Ryuji would probably show up anyway, Morgana already lived here half the time, and Yusuke might interpret my illness as an opportunity to study suffering through charcoal, so cancelling probably would not save me.

That’s when something lightly tugged the back of my shirt, making me stop moving and stared forward.

Another tug came from slightly farther toward my left, followed a moment later by a third from the right. Three separate points of contact pulled against the fabric, all of them considerably lower than my shoulders, and I slowly closed my eyes.

Of course.

The first reason I had spent the last several minutes worrying was standing behind me.

"Ren, are you planning to keep staring at that door until nighttime?" Morgana asked from somewhere behind me while another impatient tug pulled against my shirt. "Because I'm pretty sure the door still opens the same way it did yesterday."

I sighed and began turning around.

I already knew what I was about to see. That did not mean I particularly enjoyed remembering how we had reached this point.

A few months earlier, I had been sitting in my room browsing through random artwork online when I came across a catgirl picture. There was nothing especially unusual about it, at least by internet standards. The girl had the usual ears, tail, cute expression, and enough little "nya" comments surrounding her that I wondered whether the artist had been contractually obligated to include them.

I obviously knew what catgirls were.

What surprised me was realizing that, throughout all the years I had known Morgana, I had somehow never properly connected those two concepts. Maybe it was because Morgana had spent so much of our younger years aggressively insisting that he was absolutely not a cat, or maybe knowing an actual talking cat-like creature had made fictional catgirls feel like something completely unrelated.

Whatever the reason, I stared at the picture for several seconds before Morgana walked into the room. My brain immediately did what it had become disturbingly talented at doing.

Something stupid.

"Hey, Morgana, could you ever imagine yourself as a catgirl?" I asked while turning away from my monitor, already expecting the usual offended reaction whenever I got too close to calling him a cat.

Morgana stopped and looked at me.

For several seconds, he seemed genuinely confused rather than offended, and then his expression slowly hardened into annoyance. "What exactly is that supposed to mean?" Morgana asked while placing both hands on his hips. "I am a catgirl, Ren. Have you somehow managed not to notice that after all these years?"

My first instinct was to laugh and brush it off, only to realize moments later the implication of the words he had just said.

There was a part of me that wanted to call it a joke immediately, frantically wanting to explain that Morgana absolutely was not a catgirl. Because unless my memory had become completely unreliable, he was a small male cat-like creature who had spent an impressive amount of his life complaining whenever anyone called him exactly that.

Then I actually looked at her and to my shock, Morgana was right.

Standing in front of me was a young woman with black hair, feline ears rising from the top of her head, and a long dark tail twitching irritably behind her. Her clothes still carried the same colors and design ideas I associated with Morgana, and her expression was exactly the same mixture of pride, annoyance, and suspicion I had seen thousands of times before.

Except she was human. Mostly human, anyway, because the ears and tail made that distinction somewhat complicated.

She was also very obviously female.

I stared long enough that Morgana's annoyance became visible in the way her tail snapped behind her. "Seriously, what is wrong with you today?" she demanded while reaching upward to flick one ear. "You ask me whether I can imagine being a catgirl, then look at me like you've never seen me before."

By then I had enough experience to understand exactly what had happened.

It was this stupid ability, wasn’t it? My reality bending power that had simply changed Morgana right in front of me.

Not with some dramatic transformation I could follow from beginning to end, but with the same infuriating certainty it had used before. Somewhere between my question and Morgana's answer, the world had apparently decided Morgana had always been a catgirl and corrected every contradiction around that fact.

Naturally, I investigated because apparently learning from previous mistakes was not one of my strengths.

Old pictures now showed Morgana exactly like that. Photographs from our Phantom Thief days included a catgirl standing beside us as though nobody had ever considered that unusual, and even pictures where Morgana used to ride inside my bag somehow existed without anyone questioning how a human-sized girl had accomplished that.

That should have been where the problem ended.

Instead, once I accepted that Morgana was apparently a catgirl now, my imagination began asking what kind of catgirl she should be.

Catgirls were supposed to be cute. I mean, the current Morgana was already cute, but maybe she could be a little cuter. The next morning her face looked slightly softer, her eyes somehow more expressive, and her ears seemed just a little larger in a way that made every annoyed twitch harder to take seriously.

Then I started thinking that catgirls were usually small, which led to Morgana losing several centimeters in height.

A few days later, I wondered whether being even shorter would fit her better, especially considering how tiny she had been in the version of reality I remembered. She shrank again, and then once more after another careless thought, until she barely reached my chest.

That was when the familiar cycle became impossible to deny.

Every change created something new for me to notice, and every new detail gave my imagination another idea. The more I noticed Morgana's smaller frame, the more my thoughts wandered toward exaggerating the contrast.

One afternoon, she stood beside me complaining about something while I found myself wondering how ridiculous it would look if such a tiny girl possessed much more dramatic curves. Low and behold, her chest immediately pushed outward beneath her shirt, swelling enough that I froze while Morgana continued talking without the slightest interruption.

A few days later, I wondered whether another increase would make the contrast even more striking.

Reality seemingly agreed.

Soon Morgana had become exactly the sort of tiny, absurdly busty shortstack catgirl that should have existed only inside extremely specific corners of the internet. She was still Morgana in every important way, except her petite body now supported proportions that looked like somebody had designed her specifically to test how far the word "contrast" could be stretched.

I tried not to think about it after that.

Yet naturally, that only made me think about it more.

The thing that bothered me was not even the obvious part anymore. Morgana had become smaller while also becoming considerably heavier in several places, and for some reason my brain started wondering where all that extra Morgana was supposed to go.

Reality clearly did not care about conservation of mass, Makoto alone had proven that beyond reasonable doubt.

Still, the question refused to leave my mind.

Where would more Morgana go?

That was when I remembered another image I had seen online, this one featuring three identical girls inspired by Cerberus. They were not exactly sisters, and they were not exactly separate characters either, but more like one concept expressed through three matching bodies.

The idea fascinated me for approximately five seconds.

Which was clearly four seconds too long.

What if Morgana was something like that?

Not Cerberus, obviously, because associating Morgana with dogs seemed absolutely unthinkable at this point. But three matching catgirls, all of them Morgana, seemed weirdly fitting once the thought entered my head.

Three bodies. One Morgana.

I blinked.

…

This is getting out of hand.

Now there were three of her.

One Morgana stood beside the bed, another leaned near my desk, and the third had somehow appeared against the wall. Every one of them wore the same confused expression, and for several seconds I genuinely thought I had accidentally created two entirely new people.

"How many of you are there?" I asked while looking between them, pointing toward the nearest body because my brain had not yet developed a better strategy.

The Morgana beside the bed folded her arms beneath her chest while the one by my desk rolled her eyes. "One, obviously," the first replied, and before I could react, the second continued the exact same thought. "Why would there suddenly be more of me?"

The third Morgana tilted her head.

"And why are you staring at my bodies like that again? Are you finally falling for my charm~" she finished, all three of them looking much prouder and more smug than they had probably any right to. 

That was when I realized the truth was somehow even stranger.

There were not three Morganas. There was one Morgana operating three separate bodies with a single perfectly shared consciousness.

I tested it carefully. I asked one body what she wanted for dinner and another answered without hesitation, then tossed a pillow toward one while a completely different body caught it without breaking conversation.

They did not communicate with each other because there was nothing to communicate. Morgana already knew whatever Morgana knew.

Then I made one final experiment, mostly because science had apparently become my excuse for poor decisions.

I scratched one Morgana behind the ear and all three bodies stiffened at once.

Six ears twitched upward, three tails snapped straight behind them, and three identical faces turned bright red as though I had triggered the exact same response through every body simultaneously.

"D-Don't do that without warning!" Morgana yelped through the body directly in front of me while the other two covered their ears in embarrassment.

That settled the matter.

One Morgana, three bodies.

Apparently reality considered this perfectly reasonable.

Which brought me back to the present.

Three identical Morganas stood behind me, each one barely more than half my height and each possessing the same petite body, dramatically oversized chest, black feline ears, and long tail swaying behind her. One still held the back of my shirt, another had crossed both arms beneath her chest, and the third already carried a controller she had apparently retrieved while I was busy contemplating my life choices.

Most importantly, every body wore the exact same annoyed expression.

It was strangely impressive. And also unfortunately absolutely adorable.

"Are you okay?" Morgana asked through the middle body while the one holding my shirt finally released me. "You've been standing out here looking like somebody just explained taxes to you."

"I was just thinking," I replied while opening the door before my imagination received any further inspiration. “Not really about interesting things though.”

All three Morganas followed me inside.

"That explains the expression," Morgana remarked through the body carrying the controller while another immediately headed toward the snacks. "Thinking has historically been extremely dangerous for you."

I stared at her. Three Morganas stared back with exactly the same smug little smile.

The girl had absolutely no idea how incredibly right she was.

We had barely gotten upstairs before the doorbell rang again, and a familiar voice came from below before I could even sit properly.

"Yo, Ren! You better not have started without me!" Ryuji shouted from downstairs while several quick footsteps moved through the entrance.

Several.

I already knew why.

Morgana's six ears perked upward while I walked back toward the stairs, and every step downward made me increasingly aware that I was about to look at another consequence of my imagination.

Ryuji's situation had started while we were running together.

He had gotten interested in training again sometime after we all settled into adult life, although whether he was seriously considering returning to competitive track or simply missed the feeling of running changed depending upon which week I asked him. Either way, he occasionally dragged me along because I honestly didn’t mind going with him. It was a nice thing, just between him and me.

One afternoon, we were jogging around a school track when Ryuji started complaining about motivation.

Not real motivation, obviously. Ryuji could run for hours if someone made the mistake of turning it into a competition, but complaining during exercise was practically part of his breathing pattern.

"Man, you know what would make this way better?" Ryuji asked while jogging beside me and wiping sweat from his forehead.

In hindsight, I should have ignored him. But I asked what was on his mind.

"A cute girl training with us," Ryuji replied while throwing both hands outward with an enormous grin. "Come on, dude, tell me you wouldn't run twice as hard if some hot track chick was doing laps with us."

My imagination connected those words to the person currently running beside me before I even realized what I was doing.

What would Ryuji look like as that girl?

Reality apparently considered that sufficient instruction.

His shoulders narrowed while he kept jogging, his waist drawing inward as his face softened around the jaw. His voice climbed slightly higher between words, but Ryuji never reacted because, as far as he was concerned, absolutely nothing unusual was happening.

Even as I nearly missed a step, Ryuji just kept on talking.

"She'd have to be kinda tall, though," he continued while looking ahead, completely unaware that several centimeters were being added to his changing body. "Not some tiny girl who can't keep up once we actually start running."

His legs stretched with each stride. The change was smooth enough that every step simply carried him farther than the previous one. His hips widened enough to support his shifting frame, and the person jogging beside me became noticeably more feminine without losing anything recognizable about Ryuji's movements.

"Good legs too, obviously," he added while gesturing down toward himself. "Like proper runner's legs. Strong thighs, good calves, all that."

Again, his thighs thickened with athletic muscle while his calves sharpened into defined shapes designed for sprinting. His running became smoother as his changing body apparently adapted instantly, and I realized with growing horror that Ryuji was unknowingly giving my imagination a complete character description.

"Strong core too," Ryuji continued while tapping his stomach. His shirt tightened across a more defined abdomen, his waist narrowing around a powerful core while his hips settled into a distinctly feminine shape.

"But still cute," he added with another grin. "You don't want some huge muscle monster chasing you around the track."

That made his face change again. The remaining masculine edges softened while his blonde hair shifted around a face that still looked completely like Ryuji and yet had become unquestionably female. His eyelashes became more noticeable, his lips slightly fuller, and his grin somehow remained exactly as stupid as ever.

Every word Ryuji spoke made the situation worse, yet I didn't know how to stop him. Or even if I wanted to…

"Decent chest too, obviously," he continued while making a vague gesture in front of himself. "Nothing completely insane, though. Just enough that you definitely notice. A bit of bounce, you know~ Eyyy~"

His chest pushed outward beneath his shirt as two rounded shapes grew smoothly until they reached exactly the sort of ample but athletic proportions he had described. It wasn’t like that slowed Ryuji down in the slightest.

Meanwhile, I was so absorbed in this ridiculousness that I nearly forgot how to run.

So yeah. Her name was Ryuko now. Of course it was.

"So ain't you lucky to have a girl like that training with you?" Ryuko joked while flashing me the exact same grin Ryuji had worn ten minutes earlier. She laughed at her own joke and immediately accelerated away from me, leaving me standing there wondering how my best friend had accidentally designed herself.

That should have been enough for one afternoon. After nearly tripping twice, I asked Ryuko if I could take a short break. To catch my breath and sort my thoughts. Naturally Ryuko let me, although she herself wanted to continue running for a little while longer while she was in the zone.

Unfortunately, several students walked past me while Ryuko completed another lap. One of them noticed her and then started talking.

"Whoa, she's really cute," one student remarked while watching Ryuko sprint around the track.

His friend laughed and gave her another look. "Yeah, she kinda reminds me of one of those horse girls from that game everyone's playing."

Horse girl.

That phrase stuck inside my head immediately.

I looked toward Ryuko.

Fast, athletic, competitive, blonde, energetic, and exactly the sort of person who could somehow turn running in a circle into a personal challenge against everyone within sight.

Something about the comparison fit disturbingly well.

Then I realized what my imagination was starting to do.

No horse.

Absolutely not.

I was not turning Ryuko into a horse.

No fur, no hooves, no horse body, no tail, and absolutely nothing remotely equine.

I repeated that thought so many times that I accidentally accomplished the exact opposite of what I wanted. Instead of removing the image, my brain started trying to imagine a horse-girl shaped Ryuko while obeying my increasingly desperate requirement that there could be absolutely no horse parts involved.

So as Ryuko ran around the far side of the track, her backside started to shift.

Not larger, but backward.

Her hips moved farther behind her as her midsection stretched between her waist and lower body, adding another long section of completely human torso where no human torso should reasonably continue. Her original pair of legs moved farther beneath the rear portion while the new length expanded smoothly between them.

I stared in horror as two rounded shapes formed beneath the forward part of the stretched body. They pushed downward and lengthened, shaping themselves into thighs, knees, toned calves, ankles, and finally another complete pair of human feet.

Ryuko stumbled for barely half a second, before catching herself again, all four legs having found the rhythm almost instantly.

So she accelerated again, running through the course even faster than she did before.

Technically, I had succeeded in getting my thoughts under control.

There was no fur anywhere. No hooves, or horse anatomy. No tail or weird ears. Nothing. 

She was definitely not a centaur, but to say that she was a human was stretching it.

She was something considerably harder to explain: a completely human woman with an elongated second midsection and four athletic human legs.

A human-taur… maybe? Naming it really did not help.

The sound of another footstep downstairs pulled me back into the present, and I reached the bottom of the stairs before reluctantly looking toward the entrance.

Ryuko stood there grinning at me.

From the waist upward, she looked almost exactly like the girl Ryuji had accidentally described that day. She was tall, athletic, and toned without becoming excessively muscular, with strong arms, a defined stomach, a cute blonde face, and a chest large enough to be obvious without becoming the sort of architectural issue Makoto dealt with.

But then my gaze moved lower. Her waist continued backward into that bizarre elongated second torso, giving her the rough silhouette of a centaur if someone had removed every single horse feature and replaced it with human anatomy. One pair of powerful legs supported the forward half while another equally toned pair stood beneath the rear, and all four currently wore sneakers.

She looked ridiculous. She also looked annoyingly good and surprisingly sexy.

What is wrong with me…?

My power continued having very specific priorities.

"Bro, why're you staring like that again?" Ryuko asked while stepping inside with her front pair of legs. "Please tell me you didn't already start playing."

"We haven't started properly," I replied while moving aside to give her considerably more room than the average person needed.

Ryuko gave me a suspicious look before beginning the process of removing her shoes.

One sneaker came off, then another.

I waited while she shifted her rear body slightly and removed two more, making four shoes land beside the entrance.

Morgana's three bodies had followed me downstairs and now watched silently from the steps.

"When you take off your shoes, you are taking up the entire entrance again," Morgana complained through the body standing farthest forward.

"You've got six feet!" she protested while gesturing toward all three Morganas. “Like you would be any better.”

All three looked downward at themselves, then back at Ryuko with a smirk. “I bet the three of us still take up less space combined than your horse butt.”

"What did you say, you big tiddy kitty?" Ryuko shouted back, to which I placed my hands on each of their shoulders… Well, one of Morgana's shoulders at least. That seemed to at least always calm them down a bit, and this time was no different.

So I walked upstairs again before anyone could ask me to determine who currently had the most unreasonable footwear requirements.

The two of them had barely finished arguing about which game we should start with when a faint vibration moved through the floor.

A glass on my desk rattled slightly. Then another small vibration followed.

Morgana's ears lifted across all three bodies while Ryuko glanced toward the window with a grin.

I closed my eyes.

It seemed like our final guest had arrived.

The doorbell rang several seconds after the ground had already given her away.

I returned downstairs once again and placed one hand on the front door, already knowing I would have to look considerably farther upward than usual once I opened it.

Yusuke's transformation had started with his largest painting.

He invited me to some enormous temporary studio because he wanted to show me what he proudly called the greatest physical undertaking of his artistic life. The painting covered an entire wall and stretched so far in both directions that standing close enough to work on it made seeing the complete composition practically impossible.

Yusuke loved the challenge.

He also complained about it constantly.

"I fear I may have underestimated the consequences of scale," Yusuke explained while standing beside me and staring at the massive canvas. "Whenever I remain close enough to work upon the finer details, I lose the ability to understand the whole."

That sounded exactly like Yusuke.

He began walking backward while I followed, both of us moving far enough away that the entire piece gradually became visible.

"It needed to be enormous," Yusuke continued while gesturing toward the painting. "Something whose sheer size captures attention before the viewer has even properly understood what they are seeing."

Large.

My imagination connected that concept to Yusuke immediately.

He grew taller. It was not dramatic at first, only enough that I noticed his eye level had shifted compared with mine. Yusuke remained completely focused on the painting.

"However, overwhelming might not be the correct feeling," he continued thoughtfully. "I do not want its size to become threatening."

Therefore, his body softened. His shoulders narrowed slightly, his waist pulling inward while his features became more delicate. The changes continued quietly as Yusuke talked, turning his frame increasingly feminine without giving him any reason to stop.

"It should invite someone closer," Yusuke explained while stepping toward the painting again. "Something immense, yet still gentle."

Every word made his hips widened, every breath pushed his chest further outwards.

At the same time his face softened farther until the person standing beside me was unmistakably female, even though every expression and movement remained completely Yusuke.

Once again, apparently turning one of my male friends into a woman required almost no effort from reality anymore.

But if you thought that would stop Yusuke from saying dangerous things for my head, you would be solely mistaken.

"I want someone to look at the piece and feel comfortable remaining there," he explained while folding one arm beneath the other. "Something they can observe without pressure, almost as though the size itself provides a strange sense of safety."

My gaze drifted downward, watching as my mind was read and Yusuke's thighs started to thicken.

"It should be a place someone could mentally rest," Yusuke continued while studying the painting.

As he used the word “rest” right as I was staring at his evergrowing thighs, I knew this was going to be a disaster. 

Low and behold, they grew again, and again, and again, increasingly thicker. So. Much. Thicker.

The fabric around them tightened while reality quietly adjusted the clothing before anything could tear. They became broader, softer, and increasingly prominent compared with the rest of Yusuke's changing body.

In a word, Comfortable.

That was the thought that finally ruined everything.

Those thighs looked comfortable.

They grew.

I imagined resting my head on one.

They became larger again.

At that point, the name Yuuka simply felt natural inside my thoughts, and apparently reality had already decided it had always been her name. Yuuka kept discussing the artwork while her lower body expanded beside me, completely unaware that I had stopped paying attention to almost everything she was saying.

Those thighs looked like pillows.

More growth.

Actually, they looked better than pillows.

Maybe I could sleep on one.

They became bigger.

Maybe an entire thigh could work like a mattress.

Bigger again.

Then my imagination asked whether both thighs together could form an entire bed.

My ability seemingly loved that idea.

Yuuka started growing taller at the same time, her body stretching upward until she towered far above me. Two meters became three, then continued climbing until she eventually settled at somewhere around four meters tall.

By the time Yuuka finally knelt beside me to examine part of the lower painting, each thigh rested across the studio floor like an enormous cushion. They were broad enough that I could easily imagine lying across one without any part of my body reaching the edges.

The painting was supposedly Yusuke's greatest artistic achievement, yet I had stopped looking at it several minutes earlier. There was something much more enticing near me, and eventually, my dignity just lost the fight to my intrinsic thoughts.

"Yuuka, can I touch your thighs?" I asked while staring at them and immediately realizing there was probably no elegant way to phrase that question.

Yuuka finally looked away from the canvas.

She seemed confused.

Not embarrassed, just confused.

"Ren, you do not require permission for something so ordinary," Yuuka replied while placing one enormous hand against her thigh. "You rest upon them whenever you wish. Why would today be any different?"

That… took me by surprise. Apparently, according to the new reality, sleeping on Yuuka's thighs was something I did regularly.

Naturally, there were photographs.

I checked.

One showed me sleeping across one enormous thigh while holding a book. Another showed Yuuka drawing while I leaned between both legs like somebody had replaced an expensive couch with an artist.

The door handle beneath my hand reminded me where I currently stood, so I opened it.

At first, all I saw was fabric near Yuuka's knees.

Then I raised my gaze, and raised it farther.

Yuuka stood outside Leblanc with her upper body bent slightly forward so she could properly see the entrance. Even at roughly four meters tall, she retained the elegant, almost delicate appearance Yusuke had always possessed above the waist, with long blue hair framing the same thoughtful expression I remembered.

Her body was unquestionably feminine now, but otherwise relatively balanced. Except for her thighs. Damn, those thighs. Even compared with the rest of her gigantic body, they were enormous.

Each one was broad enough to support my entire body and thick enough that my brain immediately stopped categorizing them as normal anatomy. They looked soft, heavy, warm, and unfairly comfortable.

I knew they were comfortable, apparently I had years of experience.

It really did not help me trying to resist doing embarrassing things.

"I apologize if I am somewhat late," Yuuka greeted while lowering herself slightly closer to the doorway. "Travel proved more complicated than expected."

"Didn’t you walk here?" Ryuko called with an amused grin, leaning far enough down the stairs that her head appeared behind me.

"Yes," Yuuka replied calmly while glancing back toward the street. "That was the complicated part."

That’s our Yusuke for you. Good to know that some things survive any changes.

Obviously, Yuuka could not enter Leblanc without turning the building into a renovation project.

Fortunately, reality had already created a solution.

Outside the window to my room stood an enormous reinforced stool that I had absolutely no memory of anyone building. According to everyone else, it had always been there specifically because Yuuka liked sitting outside the window whenever we gathered upstairs.

Apparently Sojiro ordered it years ago and apparently Ryuko once helped move it. According to everyone, I had sat outside with Yuuka countless times, of which I, naturally, had no recollection whatsoever.

A few minutes later, Morgana, Ryuko, and I were upstairs while Yuuka settled onto her enormous stool outside my open window. Her upper body remained easily visible from inside, and she immediately pulled out her sketchbook because video games had never really been Yusuke's favorite part of our gatherings anyway, and that hadn’t changed now that she had boobs.

Ryuko dropped herself onto the floor in front of the television, somehow folding four long athletic legs around herself without kicking anything important. Morgana spread her three bodies across my room, with one holding a controller, another already stealing snacks, and the third claiming my desk chair before anyone else could object.

So there I was, sitting between them.

This was boys' night.

So naturally there were three tiny busty catgirl bodies sharing one mind, one tall athletic woman with four human legs, one four-meter giantess sitting outside the window because her thighs could probably destroy the staircase by themselves. 

And one normal guy.

Me. 

Phenomenal.

"All right, nobody touches the racing game until I've had at least one warm-up round," Ryuko declared while grabbing a controller and pointing it threateningly toward Morgana.

The Morgana sitting closest to the television immediately looked offended. "You only want a warm-up because you know I'm going to destroy you again," she replied while another Morgana casually opened a bag of chips.

Ryuko pointed toward the third body. "And no hopping in front of me to block my vision in case you are losing! I can and will kick you if you do."

"Where did that accusation come from?" she answered, folding her arms beneath her massive chest with tremendous dignity. “Me? I would neeeeever~”

I sighed and looked through the window.

As expected, Yuuka was already drawing.

Then my eyes drifted downward.

Those thighs rested beneath her like two gigantic cushions, broad enough that even from my room they somehow looked softer than my actual bed.

I stared for several seconds.

Boys' night had changed quite a bit, hadn’t it.

Still, maybe that was fine.

At least everyone seemed to be having fun.

And if Yuuka happened to ask whether I wanted to sleep on her thighs later...

Well.

Those things had been calling my name since she arrived.