Yami slammed his bedroom door shut and leaned against it, running a hand through his messy black hair.
His chest was tight, his thoughts bouncing around like a pinball game. What the hell was his life even turning into?
He didn't want to think about what just happened, but the memory was already burned into his brain.
And then, because, of course, it couldn't let him have a moment of peace, the system chimed in.
[Congrats, Yami! Mission Complete: "Is this Normal, Mommy?"]
The glowing text popped up in front of him, and his body gave up and fell butt-first to the ground. He groaned, dragging both hands down his face.
"Seriously? Right now?" he hissed, glaring at the screen.
[Hell yeah, right now! You did it, champ! Mission complete, reward unlocked, you got mommy milkers MILF to stroke your chinchin. Ready to see what you got?]
"No," Yami muttered, but the system didn't give a damn. The mission window disappeared, and the stat screen appeared like it was the most exciting thing in the world.
==Harem System 1.1.07==
Name: Yami Iwatani
Age: 7
Quirk: Pillar Man (S-)
Mastery: F- (Bozo)
Strength: D- (Nothing crazy, but now you could probably beat an average high-schooler.)
Durability: D- (You might survive falling off a motorbike now. Maybe.)
Agility: D- (At least you're not tripping over your own feet anymore.)
Stamina: C (Mission Reward: +1 Minor Rank! Congrats, you got the stamina of a marathon runner on the body of a kid)
Intelligence: C (You've still got a brain, so that's cool.)
Luck: A (The universe keeps throwing weird shit at you, congratulations?)
Skill: D (You're not as awkward as you were. Progress!)
Harem: 1 (Your mom's officially on the team. Awkward, but hey, it counts!)
===
Yami stared at the screen, his fists tightening. "C stamina. That's it? That's what I get for all… that?"
[What, were you expecting a medal? Look, you're building a foundation here. You can't go from zero to hero in one mission. Baby steps, remember? Baby steps!]
"Baby steps my ass," he barked back to the system, standing up and flopping onto his bed.
He stared at the ceiling, the glowing screen still mocking him in his peripheral vision.
He felt weird—like all the emotions he should've been feeling had just short-circuited.
At first, he didn't know what to think. Should he feel bad? Gross? Angry? But then, something in him clicked.
Or maybe broke.
Either way, it didn't matter anymore. Why even bother caring about right and wrong?
"Alright," Yami said, "You win. I'll play the stupid game."
[Now that's the spirit! I knew you had it in you, champ. Ready for the next mission?]
"Not yet," he replied, sitting up and cracking his neck. His golden eyes glinted with something new—Dark determination. "But you're gonna tell me the second it drops. No holding out."
[Consider it done! I'll be your own personal assistant so long you keep adding bitches to the harem. You keep fucking, and I'll keep the missions rolling. Deal?]
"Deal," Yami said, at first sighing but then with a smirk.
The screen flickered and disappeared, leaving Yami alone with his thoughts.
He leaned back on his bed, his hands tucked behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. "I think... I like this..."
The next few weeks were different for Yami. After the kitchen incident with his mom and his "achievement" being logged by the system, something in him shifted.
He couldn't pinpoint when or how, but he stopped caring about many things he probably should've. Right and wrong? Meh. What mattered now was control—having it, keeping it, and using it. That's why he decided to change things up at school.
Yami wasn't naturally the "friendly" type, but he started being more social—or at least pretending to be.
It wasn't that hard. Most of his classmates were little kids who barely knew how to tie their shoes, let alone navigate social stuff.
He helped them when needed, stepping in during group projects, offering a hand with homework, and shutting down bullies when they tried to act tough.
It wasn't because he cared about them—it was about creating a role for himself—the dependable guy, the one people respected.
Momo, though? She was different.
From the start, Yami could tell she wasn't like the rest of the class. She wasn't just smart for her age; she had this natural intelligence that made her stand out without trying.
It wasn't annoying or arrogant, though—she didn't flaunt it. And her quirk, Creation, was insane.
Yami remembered it from the manga: she could create anything as long as she understood its composition and had enough body fat to fuel it.
That kind of quirk was borderline unfair, and he couldn't help but think about how overpowered she could be with proper training.
So naturally, Yami decided to befriend her.
Dropping his "I don't talk to kids" routine was easier than he thought. Momo wasn't like the loudmouths or the wannabe tough guys he usually ignored.
She was polite and kind and carried herself with this sense of calm maturity that felt… different.
She was also honest—sometimes brutally so. If someone screwed up in class or got something wrong, Momo didn't sugarcoat it.
She'd tell them straight up where they messed up and how they could fix it, all in her calm, polite way.
At first, some of the kids didn't like her for it, but Yami found it refreshing. She wasn't mean; she was just blunt.
Momo's upbringing definitely played a role in how she acted. Yami figured out pretty quickly that she was loaded—like, insanely rich.
Her house was practically a mansion, and the way she talked about things like vacations and family dinners was so casual it was clear she didn't even realize how out of reach that kind of stuff was for most people.
Despite all that, she was surprisingly down-to-earth. Momo had this natural respect for others, always saying please and thank you, and she absolutely hated it when people were rude or disrespectful.
Yami caught her sighing in frustration more than once when someone burped loudly or interrupted others in class.
Vulgarity, in particular, made her uncomfortable. If someone so much as hinted at a sexual topic, her face would turn bright red, and she'd either shut the conversation down or excuse herself.
It was honestly kind of hilarious to watch.
The two of them started hanging out more and more. Momo's family lived close—just a ten-minute walk from Yami's house—so it wasn't long before they were visiting each other regularly.
Angela was over the moon that Yami had made a friend. She encouraged it at every turn, practically throwing Yami out the door when Momo invited him over, thrilled that he was "coming out of his shell."
Of course, Angela wasn't exactly innocent in all this. She and Yami had… developed a routine of sorts.
Late at night, when the house was quiet, and Akio was off doing who-knows-what with his latest addition, Angela would knock on Yami's door under the pretence of helping him "manage his growing body."
At first, it was awkward—but as time went on, it became something they both expected.
Yami didn't even have to ask anymore; Angela stroked his cock at the phase he wanted. Sometimes, she'd touch herself, biting her lip to keep quiet, but Yami always noticed.
The system, of course, loved every second of it.
[Bonding time with mommy? How sweet~]
Yami had stopped reacting to its bullshit. It was just part of his life, like brushing his teeth or attending school.
Hanging out with Momo was a different kind of escape. She was so… innocent. She had no clue how messed up the world could be, and part of Yami liked that about her. She was a blank slate, untouched by the crap he dealt with daily.
Their time together was mostly spent studying at the library or walking through the quiet streets near their homes.
Momo loved learning and seemed genuinely happy to have someone to study with who wasn't intimidated by her intelligence.
Yami played his role perfectly, matching her enthusiasm and even impressing her a few times with how quickly he grasped concepts.
One afternoon, as they sat in her massive, sunlit living room, Momo set down her pen and looked at Yami thoughtfully.
"You know," she said, her tone serious, "you're really good at this."
Yami raised an eyebrow. "At what?"
"Everything," she said simply. "Math, history, even literature. You're always a step ahead. It's impressive."
He smirked, leaning back against the plush couch. "Well, I have to keep up with you somehow, don't I?"
Momo blushed faintly, her lips curving into a shy smile. "Still, it's nice. Most people don't care about studying the way we do."
If only she knew the thoughts that sometimes ran through his head and the things he did while in the privacy of his home.