Classroom Changes - Umako Chapter 6 - 1

The Jeopardy Masters Tournament show was scheduled to start at 8 p.m. It was about 15 minutes before the hour, and Hiroto began worrying that Umako would not show up.

knock knock knock “Hiroto” knock knock knock “Hiroto” knock knock knock “Hiroto” sounded at the front door. Even if he hadn’t recognized Umako’s voice, Hiroto would have known it was her by her imitation of Sheldon from ‘The Big Bang Theory’. It was an affectation they had been sharing since they first started watching the show.

Hiroto opened the door and found himself looking into Umako’s breasts. It was still hard for him to get used to how much taller than him she now was. She wore a tight-fitting t-shirt that said, “Of course I smell like a horse. Deal with it”. It didn’t escape his notice that she was not wearing a bra. She held two large popcorn bags, one caramel-coated and one cheese-flavoured

“Umako!” he said, looking up into her face,  “I’m glad you made it. And you brought my favourite popcorn flavours.”

He stepped aside from the doorway and motioned for her to enter. “Nice t-shirt,” Hiroto offered as she passed by him, then added, “and I like how you smell.” He blushed as he said the latter, wondering if he was too forward.

“I’m not late, am I?” Umako asked.

“Not at all,” Hiroto assured her, “The show’s just about to start. My parents went to a movie. We have the place to ourselves, so feel free to shout out the answers.”

They entered the family room, where the sofa was set up facing the television, as always when they had a TV-watching session.

“Umm…” Umako said, “There’s a problem. I can’t fit on the sofa anymore.”

“D’oh,” Hiroto grunted. “I should have thought of that.” He pushed the sofa into the corner, leaving an open space in front of the TV. “How’s that? Can you sit on the floor here?”

“That should work,” Umako agreed.

“Great,” Hiroto answered, “I’ll just get myself a chair.”

“Do you need one?” Umako asked as she lowered herself to sit on the floor, her body parallel to the TV, taking up the space the sofa had occupied. “You could lean against me.”

“Um, “ Hiroto hesitated, “Are you sure you wouldn’t mind?”

“Of course not, silly,” she giggled, “Get yourself a cushion for your butt and use me as your backrest.”

Hiroto did as suggested, settling down against Umako, leaning against her side, just behind where her forelegs were folded under her. She was solid, not shifting when he leaned against her. He could feel her body move slightly as she breathed. He laid his right arm along her front leg, using it as an armrest. Her horse hair felt rough against the bare skin of his arm. He could feel the firmness of her leg muscles. When he breathed deeply, he could smell a fascinating mix of horse, girl and whatever toiletries Umako used. It felt odd to him to be leaning against her equine body. It seemed like a foreign creature that had somehow been melded with the girl he had known for so long.

The questions for the Master’s tournament were more challenging than those for the regular show, reflecting the players' skill levels. Even so, Umako and Hiroto got many of the answers correct, each shouting the answer out about the same number of times. They were particularly proud of themselves when they could answer a question that stumped the contestants. Beating the contestants on an answer had always required a high-five. When Hiroto leaned his head back for one, he found himself looking directly at the bottom of Umako’s breasts, pressing against the fabric of her shirt.

The show lasted an hour, during which time they consumed all of the popcorn and some sodas Hiroto had fetched from the kitchen. Umako had no problem downing a 2-litre bottle of orange soda, while Hiroto was satisfied with a more modest 710ml Coke. Umako also ate most of the popcorn. Hiroto thought he now understood the term “eating like a horse.”

“That was a good show,” Hiroto remarked. “There were lots of tough questions.” He started to rise from the floor. Umako held him down with gentle but firm pressure on his shoulders. Strain as he might, he could not budge her hands.

“Can we sit here for a while?” Umako asked, stroking his hair.

“Sure,” Hiroto answered uncertainly. Unsure how to respond, he stroked her leg.

“So,” Umako started hesitantly, “What do you honestly think of me being a centaur? In one way, I know you’re impressed, as if one of the characters from your mangas has come to life. But what do you think of me as girlfriend material? Am I just a novelty?”