"Do you like it, boy?" Quint's master asked while petting his head. They were on their way back from the forest.
The boy, who was already half-asleep, just nodded and mumbled, "Uhum."
"Did you bring your mommy a souvenir?" his master asked again, this time teasing him.
Quint frowned slightly, then opened his eyes. "I took some teeth from the animals I slaughtered," he said, pulling two teeth out of his pocket—one from a snake and the other from a wolf. "Do you think she would like them?"
The man laughed. "I don't think so. But if you collect enough, they could make a nice bracelet. Your mom might like it... or Mila. She loves wearing weird jewelry."
"Okay," Quint said, putting the teeth back into his pocket.
"So, you're saying you want to do this again?" the man asked.
Quint nodded nonchalantly. "Sure," he replied before closing his eyes again.
And so, 'camping' became Quint's new yearly outbound activity. With each passing year, the locations grew more challenging—deserts, rainforests, even the North Pole.
Five years later.
On a bright June afternoon, Quint pedaled his bicycle excitedly. Today was Mila's graduation day. The girl, four years older than him, had finished high school at sixteen. Thanks to her exceptional academic performance, she had skipped two grades in elementary school—jumping from first to fourth.
Quint had just returned from a store downtown, where he had picked up something he had ordered a month ago—a small gift, specially chosen for Mila as her graduation present. Despite their age gap, he and Mila were quite close. Unlike his indifferent second sister, who was only a year older than him, Mila was thoughtful and caring toward him. Somehow, Quint found it easier to open up to her.
When he arrived home and saw his father's car already parked in the carport, his excitement grew. He jumped off his bicycle, abandoned it on the front lawn, and rushed into the house. Without hesitation, he dashed upstairs and went straight to the room at the farthest corner—Mila's room.
The door was slightly ajar.
Without thinking to knock first, Quint pushed it open and stepped inside.
He froze.
His eyes widened, nearly popping out of their sockets.
"AAAAAA!!!"
Mila let out a shriek, desperately trying to cover her completely naked body with both hands—managing only to shield her private parts and some of her chest.
"S-s-sorry...!" Quint stammered, face burning.
He spun around and bolted from the room, his mind blank with panic.
In his rush, he didn't even notice the small box he had been carrying—a gift for Mila—now lying near her door.
Quint sprinted down the stairs and dashed outside. His heart was pounding, his mind still reeling from what he had just seen. There was only one place where he felt safe.
His master's dojo.
For the past seven years of training, aside from his mother, no one else in the family ever set foot there.
He burst through the door, breathing heavily.
His master, who was standing in the kitchen with an apron wrapped around his front and a spatula in his hand, turned toward him with a puzzled expression.
"What are you doing here?" the man asked, clearly surprised. Today, because of Mila's graduation, practice had been canceled.
"I... I want to... practice," Quint said, still stammering.
His master raised an eyebrow. Quint rarely gave up a day off. Normally, he looked forward to them.
"Have you eaten lunch?"
Quint shook his head, visibly agitated. "I... I'm not hungry yet."
"Alright..." His master shrugged, then peeled back the rug beneath his feet.
"You can start your practice first. I'll catch up with you after I finish my lunch."
"Th-thank you," Quint muttered before quickly descending into the secret basement, desperate to clear his mind.
-
"Can I sleep here?" Quint suddenly asked his master just as the man was about to leave him in the treatment room.
"Why?" the man asked.
"I don't think I have the energy to walk home," Quint answered without opening his eyes.
"I'm still strong enough to carry you," his master replied.
Quint shook his head. "I'm too old to be carried like a baby." Ever since he turned ten, he had refused to let his master carry him home.
His master chuckled. "Something wrong at home? Did you fight with your mom or sisters?" He had noticed the boy acting strangely since noon.
Quint shook his head again. "No," he answered shortly.
His master studied his face, seeing nothing but his usual expressionless look. "Alright, but not here. You'll get cold if you sleep here. You can sleep on my couch if you don't feel like going home," his master finally agreed.
"Thank you, Master," Quint said, still without emotion.
Left alone, Quint slowly opened his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. He still didn't know how to act after… A vivid image peeked into his mind again. His face reddened as he quickly covered it with both hands. He shook his head hard, as if trying to physically force the image away.
Sitting cross-legged on an eight-inch diameter pole, ten feet off the ground, Quint was deep in his morning meditation when his master called out to him.
"Yes, Master."
"I knew you'd be here."
For almost a month now, the boy had been unusually diligent with his training. He was here right after breakfast and only stopped when the night was extremely late. He often even slept over on the couch.
His master suspected that his favorite disciple was running from something—or someone—at home. But he didn't pry. After all, this obsessive training was producing excellent results.
At twelve years old, Quint had advanced to the top level of both defensive and offensive techniques, reached the ninth level of physical strength, and was now accumulating his spiritual power to break through to the third level. Under his master's guidance, the boy was currently developing his signature movements and ultimate attacks—preparing for the big competition he would enter in several months.
"Are you planning to train here all day again?" his master asked.
Quint nodded.
"Alright, I'll leave the door open."
"Are you going somewhere, Master?"
His master frowned slightly. "Did you forget? Today, Mila leaves for college. I'm driving her and your parents to the airport."
Quint stiffened. "M-Mila is leaving?"
"Didn't she tell you already?" his master asked, surprised. Since Quint and Mila were close, he had assumed she would have told him herself.
Without another word, Quint jumped down from the pole and ran straight out of the dojo, heading home.
As he neared her room, his steps slowed, and his heartbeat quickened. The door was slightly open. This time, he knocked.
"Come in," Mila's voice called from inside.
Hesitantly, Quint pushed the door open.
Mila's wide smile greeted him. "Hi, little bro. Come in."
Quint's gaze swept across the room and landed on three large suitcases near the nightstand. His chest tightened.
"Are you… really leaving?" His voice betrayed his sadness.
Mila shrugged, raising her eyebrows. "Yeah. I'm going to Y University for college."
Quint nodded gloomily.
"Hey… I'll be back for holidays and summer break," Mila reassured him.
Quint forced a thin smile.
"Besides, you'll be too busy training anyway," she added with a teasing grin.
Hearing that, Quint awkwardly lowered his head.
Mila giggled, then approached him, closing the door behind him. She wrapped an arm around his shoulder and guided him to sit on her bed before sitting beside him.
"Mom told me you're training for the competition," Mila said.
Quint glanced at her in surprise. "You know about the competition?" His master had told him it was a secret, reserved only for the most gifted prodigies in the country.
Mila nodded nonchalantly. "Mom asked me to join it a few years ago." She lay back on the bed. "But I refused."
Quint, following her lead, lay on his side, facing her. "Why?"
Mila stared at him deeply. "Tell me, Quint… do you really want to be a soldier?"
Quint answered without hesitation. "Yes."
"Why?"
Her gaze made him uneasy. He turned his head to stare at the ceiling before replying, "Because… I want to protect Mom." He glanced at Mila. "And you."
Mila parted her lips as if to say something, then simply smiled and gently ran her fingers through his hair. "Thanks," she murmured.
Quint's eyes flickered downward.
For just a moment, his gaze drifted below her face—to her chest.
Mila smirked and stretched her left arm, deliberately blocking his view with something wrapped around her wrist—a silver bracelet adorned with pearl-white teeth.
"You're wearing it!" Quint exclaimed, his eyes widening.
Mila nodded, lifting her arm to admire the bracelet.
"I collected those teeth over the years I went camping with Master," Quint explained.
"What do you mean?"
"They're the teeth of animals I slaughtered," he admitted truthfully, then looked at her with slight nervousness. "Do you think it's disgusting?"
Mila shook her head, still admiring the bracelet. "It's beautiful. I love it." She turned to meet Quint's gaze and, slowly, leaned in—placing her lips over his in a soft kiss.
"Thank you," she whispered.
Quint's body froze. His mind went blank.
Mila smiled at his reaction. "Did you like it?" she asked.
"W-What?" Quint stammered.
"The kiss."
Quint blinked rapidly. "Y-Yes."
"Then… why don't you kiss me back?"
He stared at her, stunned. But a second later, as if moving on instinct, he nervously closed the gap between them and pressed his lips against hers.
Mila giggled, parting her lips slightly and nibbling on his lower lip. Quint, lost in the moment, mimicked her movements. When she sucked gently, he did the same.
After a while, Mila pulled back, tilting her head. "Your first time?"
Quint shyly nodded.
Mila giggled. "You need a lot of practice."
Quint was about to respond when he saw her eyes flick downward.
She caught him sneaking glances at her chest.
"You want to see them again?" she asked suddenly.
Quint's breath hitched. "N-No!" He quickly denied it, but his eyes refused to look away.
Mila smirked. Slowly, she undid the top buttons of her shirt.
Quint gulped. His throat felt dry.
His entire body stiffened when Mila unhooked her bra, letting her breasts spill free.
"You like what you see?" she teased.
Still mesmerized, Quint silently nodded.
Mila giggled, then took his hand and placed it on her bare breast.
Quint gasped.
But when he instinctively squeezed, Mila moaned softly.
Hearing that sound sent a wave of excitement through him.
His hands explored her soft, warm flesh, while Mila let out small sighs of pleasure.
Suddenly, his mind went blank. A different sensation overwhelmed him.
Mila's hand had reached down, gently gripping his hardening length.
The pleasure surged through his brain like electricity.
Her fingers moved slowly at first, then picked up pace, stroking back and forth.
Heat spread across his entire body. His face flushed deep red.
Overcome, he let go of her breasts, one hand covering his eyes while he bit his lower arm, trying to muffle his moans.
But he couldn't last long.
With a muffled cry, his body tensed, and he released himself into Mila's waiting palm.
Panting, Quint covered his face in embarrassment.
Mila chuckled. She gently pulled his hands away and kissed him again.
"You're working hard for the competition, right?" she whispered near his ear.
Quint slowly nodded.
"Then, every time you place first in your grade…" she smirked, brushing her lips against his, "…we'll practice more."
@@@@@Author's Note@@@@@
Sorry... I deliberately forgot to put the + sign.. hihihi *bad author* :D
Please vote : :*