Story: Chilly Harem

 

My dearest diary,

After some insulation mishaps, I now crave Darling's penis like nothing else. I would gladly crawl over broken glass, swim through molten lava, or engage in any number of foolhardy things if it meant being able to have it in my mouth for two seconds.

It is taking a considerable amount of willpower to engage in this entry, if I am being entirely honest with you. At this very moment I yearn to head out to Earth, stumble dishevelled out of his closet via the space-time corridor and get laid. Get laid good and hard.

But no, I must hold on, for even a little longer. I must ensure that the harem proceeds apace. In order to better ensure that it is properly maximised, I must take careful notes. I must. I must, no matter how much this new thirst begs to be slaked. It shall. It shall! I must temporarily tame it - and then get exactly what I need, only when I understand the answer to one important question.

Is this a temporary effect, or a permanent one?

======

There's a saying that comes up in Japanese media quite often. It goes something like, "Every man experiences three periods in his life when he’s popular with romantic prospects." Often called a Moteki. There were times when Ataru Moroboshi would wonder when his would finally come for him - but do let us remember that he was, at present, living with an extremely pretty alien princess who, for reasons that likely only make sense to her, had the fullest intention of marrying him.

There are boys going through such a popular period who would look upon Moroboshi with great envy at having Lum clinging to him.

Ataru sees himself as the eternally unlucky everyman, starved for affection, convinced fate has denied him his “three popularity periods.” But from the outside, he already has what most boys would consider the ultimate moteki - a beautiful, loyal, powerful girlfriend who adores him so much she’d zap anyone who tries to steal him away

Meanwhile, Ataru obsessively chases fleeting illusions of popularity—girls who barely notice him, romantic fantasies that crumble instantly—while ignoring the one person who genuinely wants him. That mismatch between perceived popularity and actual devotion is what makes his complaints so funny.

Boys who dream of having a moteki would absolutely look at Ataru’s situation and think: “You fool… you have one! You’ve had one since the day she fell out of the sky!”

Yet Ataru remains convinced his time just hasn’t come yet. That’s peak Moroboshi. Through and through.

Oh well. It was currently lunchtime at Tomobiki High. Lum had been pulled out of class by her friend Oyuki for an emergency. It was pretty funny to watch, actually - One moment the class was going as normal, with Onsen-Mark rattling on and on about boring nonsense in that rote, terrible teaching style that he seemed convinced actually worked.

Then, out of nowhere, a blizzard poured into the room, followed by Oyuki herself.

"I'm taking her," she had said, pointing to Lum.

"The heck you are, we're in the middle of -"

Onsen-Mark's objection was stopped cold in a quite literal sense when, with a wave of her hand, Oyuki sent a burst of snow his way that buried him up to his waist.

"I'll give permission this one time," Onsen-Mark said. Phew. It made things clear, didn't it? About the kind of power Oyuki had, able to budge that stubborn teacher!

Anyway. Lunch was now here, and for once he wouldn't have to worry about Lum trying to spend time feeding him whatever alien food she'd whipped up. Although, he also couldn't ask her about her weird behavioru this morning. Zapping every girl that he talked with, instead of him. That just felt rude! 

But then came something that Ataru had dreamed of - fantasized, really. A shining moteki descending upon him like a divine blessing from the heavens. But what actually descended on him more literally was several girls at once, each latching onto a part of him with startling determination. First came Shinobu, hands firm around his right arm.

“I—I was thinking maybe we could eat lunch together today, Ataru…” she said, smiling in that sweet-but-slightly-scary way only Shinobu could. The normal girl with abnormal strength, his ex-girlfriend who he'd kind of given up on. Oho? That sounded like a fun lunch to him.

Then Ryuunosuke grabbed his left arm. That was rather less expected. Ryu-chan wanted to spend time with him as well?

“What are you talking about? He promised we’d spar later! Lunch with me first!”

“I promised no such thing!” Ataru yelped. Spending time with Ryu-chan was one thing! She was adorably boyish, which might seem like it would be a turn-off for him, but the way she carried herself, her natural good looks... She had charmed the boys and the girls in the class alike!

Then two more girls - whose names he did not currently recall, in no small part because only certain members of the class were given actual names within the series itself and the author is pretty sure he will wind up forgetting those names come future installments - latched onto him as well.

“Ataru, sit next to me today!”

“No, next to me! I called dibs!”

“<B>D-Daaaaaah!</b>" he yelped in genuine shock as the four of them tugged and pulled in different directions, while glowering at one another fiercely. "One at a time! One at a - aaagh!”

Within seconds Ataru was being pulled in three, maybe four directions at once. His legs stretched. His arms twisted. His torso elongated in a way that would’ve made a chiropractor cry. Oh, why is it that when being given a glimpse of heaven, it so readily turns into hell?

Meanwhile, across the room, Mendou froze mid-step, staring at the unfolding scene in genuine amazement and shock.

“…What,” he whispered.

This was—this was wrong. This was cosmically, philosophically, morally wrong. Girls. Ignoring him. Ignoring<b> him</b>. And instead swarming Ataru Moroboshi, the human cockroach? They never even treated him like this when they were trying to flirt with him! Instead, they would simply gush and swoon, but now? Now they were all over him like ants on a pile of rice! Mendou’s right eye twitched.

“Moroboshi,” he growled, fingers tightening around his kendo sword, “what spell of depravity have you cast upon these maidens!?”

Ataru, being pulled like a Stretch Armstrong doll, wailed back:

"If I knew I'd turn it off!" he yelled. "My arms are going to pop off like a doll's! Get help!"

Shinobu tugged harder on his arm, clinging to it possessively. “No! It’s my turn to talk to him!”

Ryuunosuke counter-tugged. “You had years, Miyake! Move over!”

One of the unnamed girls seized Ataru’s leg in a tighter grip. “Let’s eat together under the trees!”

The other took the opposite leg just as firmly. “No! He’s sitting with <I>me</i>!”

Ataru’s entire skeletal structure made a sound a human body isn’t supposed to make.

"This is not a Moteki! It's a motetsu! A popularity dismemberment! Somebody help meeeee!"

Mendou’s eyebrow twitched harder. He didn’t know what kind of cosmic anomaly he was witnessing, but one thing was certain: If Moroboshi was having a moteki, the universe was broken. Possibly beyond repair.

======

Dearest diary

Want dick

Want dick so bad

Must have 

Dick

Can't think

Need dick.

Faithfully yours, as ever,

Oyuki

Ps: need dick so bad please send aTaru's diCk