Thighs of Inspiration

Nezumi dragged my body into one of the study pods - those high-tech glass bubbles designed to boost concentration through ambient sounds and pheromone control. The door sealed with a soft hiss.

My cleaning protocols kicked in, forcing me to polish the pod's exterior while I listened in. The glass wasn't completely soundproof.

"Warning: unauthorized location detected. Study pod usage requires advance reservation-"

"Were you the one piloting that mecha yesterday?" Nezumi blurted out. "In the qualifier match?"

"Match records indicate-"

"I saw your avatar. Those moves… The way you polished my mecha until it short-circuited... that was... that was..."

"Hey, whatcha doing?" Gomi appeared beside me, munching on fresh grass.

I shushed her with my robotic eye.

"That was the most innovative strategy I've ever seen! The way you turned cleaning protocols into combat moves - genius! I never knew you were such an amazing pilot, Tanaka-san!"

"Correction: proper maintenance is essential for optimal performance. Would you like tips on mecha joint lubrication?"

"Yes! I mean... maybe we could... talk more about Dai-Bōku? Just between the two of us?"

"Processing request. Social interaction parameters unclear. Would you prefer a demonstration of proper dust removal techniques?"

"What? No, I meant-"

"Your collar appears wrinkled. Shall I adjust?"

"Wait, don't-"

Gomi snorted so hard her grass shot out her nose.

"I should go- I mean, lunch is almost- the thing is-"

The door whooshed open. Nezumi spun around too fast, her foot catching on the threshold. She pitched forward with a yelp.

Cleansuke knelt beside her fallen form. "Detecting debris on facial surface. Initiating gentle cleansing sequence."

My hand reached out and delicately brushed Nezumi's cheek, thumb sweeping in small circles to remove invisible dust. The touch lingered far longer than necessary.

Nezumi's eyes went wide. She glanced sideways and spotted Gomi, who was now recording everything on her phone.

"This-This isn’t what it looks like!" Nezumi scrambled to her feet, nearly tripping again, before bolting out the courtyard.

"Return for scheduled maintenance!" Cleansuke called after her.

"Dude," Gomi wheezed between laughs. "That cleaning robot just got you more action than you've had all year."

Cleansuke bent down to retrieve something glinting in the grass.

"Warning: unauthorized item detected. Analyzing... Item classification: locker access device with decorative attachment."

My robotic eye zoomed in on the miniature mecha dangling from Nezumi's keys.

Wait, that's a limited edition Thunderstrike X-12 model. They only made a hundred of those!

"Must return lost property to rightful owner," Cleansuke announced, already turning toward the direction Nezumi fled.

The bell's sharp ring cut through the air.

Cleansuke froze mid-step. "Schedule conflict detected. Primary directive: maintain academic attendance record. Secondary directive: return lost items."

"Uh oh." Gomi backed away. "Here comes the robot logic spiral."

"Processing priority matrix..." Cleansuke's fingers twitched, reaching for the pocket already containing Yuriko's contraband doujin. The keys joined it. "Solution found: temporary storage until next scheduled interaction."

Cleansuke then begins marching away, each step perfectly timed.

"This is getting out of hand. Gomi, you need to-"

My circuits buzzed. Post-lunch protocols flooded my system.

"Must... sanitize... cafeteria tables... Gomi! Keep an eye on Cleansuke in class. Don't let it do anything weird!"

"Define weird." 

"You know what I mean!" My robotic legs started dragging me toward the cafeteria. "Just... make sure it doesn't malfunction or expose anyone else's secrets!"

"Sure, sure." Gomi pocketed her phone.

I spent the next several hours in a cleaning blur - wiping tables, sorting recyclables, and reorganizing the condiment station by expiration date. The moment my protocols released me, I zoomed toward class 2-A.

As the last of the students filtered out, Gomi waited in the hallway. She grabbed my metallic frame before I could step inside.

"Whoa there, you might want to wait a sec."

"Why? What's happening?" I tried peeking around her.

I peered around Gomi to see Yuriko cornering my body against the classroom wall. Her face was flushed, fingers twisting the hem of her cardigan.

"About this morning..." Yuriko's voice quavered. "Did you happen to... notice anything unusual on my desk?"

"Affirmative. Multiple items required reorganization. Papers were misaligned by 3.2 degrees. Pencils showed irregular spacing-"

"No, I mean..." Yuriko glanced around nervously. "There was something... important. A personal item."

"Scanning memory banks." My body's eyes flickered like a buffering screen. "Located: One unauthorized printed material containing intimate scenarios between-"

"Shhhhh!" Yuriko clapped her hands over my mouth. "Not so loud!"

"Volume adjusted." Cleansuke's words came out muffled behind her fingers. "Would you like a detailed inventory of the content's romantic developments?"

"No! I mean- that's not- I wasn't reading-" Yuriko's face turned redder with each stammer. "It's for a friend! Who's writing... something... Just tell me if you took it!"

"Confirmed. Item secured for contraband processing per school regulations."

The color drained from Yuriko's face. "You... you're going to report it?"

"Negative. Current directive: preserve and archive." Cleansuke reached into my uniform pocket. "Would you like a dramatic reading of chapter three? The bench scene contains particularly efficient use of-"

Yuriko lunged for the book with a strangled yelp, but she lost her balance mid-reach. Her forehead collided with my body's Gogo Brain cuff with a metallic clink before her face landed squarely against my chest.

"Sensory malfunction detected. Neural feedback loop established. Processing external data stream..."

Yuriko scrambled back, face blazing. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to-"

"Story outline: childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, sharing one bed... Note to self: base next character on that cute girl from Class 2-A with the amazing thighs..."

"Stop!" Yuriko clapped her hands over her ears.

"Pen name: Fukui-sensei. Latest publication: Dorm Room, serialized in-"

Wait. Yuriko was Fukui-sensei? THE Fukui-sensei? Creator of the most heart-wrenching, soul-crushing yuri visual novel I'd ever read?

"Accessing fan interaction logs," Cleansuke announced through my voice, still stuck in the feedback loop from the Gogo Brain contact. "Multiple posts praising Fukui-sensei's work. Emotional response: extreme admiration."

Yuriko's eyes widened. "You... you read my-"

"Review history indicates I have purchased every volume on release day. Statistical analysis shows 47 re-reads of volume three."

"That's the confession scene," Yuriko sank into a desk chair. "You really read all my work?"

"Affirmative. Processing emotional impact analysis." Cleansuke sat across from her with perfect posture. "Chapter 12 caused 3.7 hours of crying. Most efficient tear production to word count ratio observed."

A small smile tugged at Yuriko's lips.

"Query: Why did Megumi choose the astronomy club over Rei?"

"Oh!" Yuriko perked up. "Well, sometimes love means supporting someone's dreams, even if-"

"Incorrect. Optimal relationship parameters suggested joining same club."

"But that's not how real feelings work!" Yuriko leaned forward, eyes sparking. "Sometimes the most romantic choice isn't the most logical one."

"Error: Does not compute. Please explain correlation between inefficient decisions and increased reader emotional response."

I watched in fascination as Yuriko launched into an passionate explanation of narrative tension and character growth, her hands gesturing animatedly.

"Request clarification: Why do characters frequently stumble into compromising positions? Maintaining balance is basic motor function."

"That's- well- sometimes when people are nervous around someone they like-"

The school bells chimed.

"Oh no!" Yuriko jumped up. "It's that late already? I need to get home before-"

She tripped over her bag strap, pitching forward. Cleansuke caught her with mechanical precision.

"Analyzing: Accidental physical contact. Cross-referencing with chapter 23..."

"This isn't one of my stories!" Yuriko squeaked, trying to untangle herself.

Cleansuke helped steady Yuriko. "Detecting elevated heart rate and facial temperature. Recommended action: deep breaths."

"Thanks," Yuriko mumbled, smoothing her uniform. "I should really go..."

"One moment." Cleansuke reached into the pocket and pulled out Lonely Bench Love. "Returning confiscated material. Analysis complete: writing technique shows 87% similarity to published works. Excellent character development noted."

Yuriko clutched the book to her chest, a genuine smile spreading across her face. "You won't tell anyone?"

"Negative. Secret archival protocols activated. Would you like scheduled discussion of future plot developments?"

"I... I'd actually like that." Yuriko tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Maybe during lunch?"

"Appointment logged. Location: study pod 3. Topic: optimal romance progression strategies."

Yuriko smiled before hurrying out of the classroom, hugging her rescued book.

"Dude." Gomi crept up next to my robotic form. "You cried for almost four hours?"

"It was a very emotional scene!"

"At least now we know why Cleansuke grabbed that doujin," Gomi mused. "Your weeb tendencies must have leaked into its programming."

"Can we please focus on fixing this body swap situation before my robot self schedules any more literary discussions?"