Cat-Print Boy Shorts

Cleansuke sprinted through my front door, still completely naked, and immediately dropped into a combat stance.

"Initiating pest control protocols." Cleansuke grabbed cleaning supplies from my closet. "Deploying multi-surface disinfectant."

The holographic stink bugs scattered as Cleansuke sprayed wildly, accomplishing absolutely nothing since they weren't real.

"Target insects displaying unusual resistance to chemical agents. Switching to physical removal methods."

Cleansuke grabbed my prized limited edition Mecha-Baka flyswatter and began swinging it. The holograms simply flickered and reformed.

"Alert: Standard pest control protocols ineffective. Initiating experimental cleaning maneuvers."

Cleansuke began incorporating moves from yesterday's Dai-Bōku match into its cleaning routine. My coffee table didn't survive the spinning mop attack.

"Warning: Infestation spreading to upper levels. Implementing vertical pursuit protocols."

"Gomi, shut it off before it destroys my whole house!"

"Aww, but it just started the interpretive cleaning dance!"

"NOW!"

The holographic bugs flickered and vanished. Cleansuke froze mid-pirouette with a feather duster held like a sword.

"Scan complete. No further insect signatures detected."

Cleansuke gave a formal bow to absolutely no one, then began methodically cleaning up the mess it had made. Still naked.

-

My internal clock jolted me awake at precisely 6:45 AM. Gomi's cow drone had disappeared sometime during the night, probably low on battery after yesterday's chaos.

Right on cue, Cleansuke emerged from the front door at 7:00 AM sharp, hair perfectly combed and uniform wrinkle-free. It had clearly spent the pre-dawn hours organizing my closet again.

"Proceeding to scheduled meeting with Tsukumo-san."

My mechanical legs twitched, fighting the urge to follow and clean up the leaves scattered in my body's wake. Instead, I watched helplessly as Cleansuke marched toward Yuriko's house, probably to continue their "romance practice sessions."

After the mess Nezumi at the Dai-Bōku match and that disaster with Reiko at the penthouse, I couldn't imagine what fresh hell Cleansuke would create today. The robot had somehow managed to entangle my body in a love pentagon within 72 hours.

Cleansuke marched up to Yuriko's front door. Her house looked modest compared to the others in the neighborhood, though the smart-glass windows and quantum-locked door gave away her family's tech-savvy nature.

Cleansuke raised my hand and knocked. No answer. Another knock, this time with exactly 15% more force according to my sensors.

"Tsukumo-san, I have arrived at the predetermined time for our scheduled meeting."

Still nothing. My circuits nearly fried when Cleansuke shifted into a stance I recognized from yesterday's Dai-Bōku match.

"Door integrity analysis complete. Calculating optimal breach point-"

"Wait! I'm coming!" Yuriko's voice called from inside.

The door slid open with a soft hiss. Yuriko wore nothing but an oversized t-shirt and... were those cat-print boy shorts?

"Sorry, I was working on a new chapter and lost track of time," Yuriko said, tugging at the hem of her shirt.

"Your attire appears to be missing several standard components."

"Oh, let me change real quick-"

"Current attire meets minimum coverage requirements. No adjustment necessary for romance practice protocols."

"Oh my, who's at the door?" A woman's voice called from inside.

Yuriko's parents appeared in the living room doorway, coffee mugs in hand. Cleansuke executed a perfect 90-degree bow.

"Good morning. I am Tanaka Shiku from Class 2-A. I apologize for the early intrusion into your residence."

"My, such perfect manners!" Yuriko's mother beamed. "Yuriko hasn't stopped talking about you since yesterday. It's all 'Tanaka-san this' and 'Tanaka-san that.'"

"Mom!" Yuriko's face turned scarlet.

"And so well-dressed too," her father added. "It's refreshing to see such a proper young lady these days."

"Thank you for the kind assessment. I strive to maintain optimal presentation standards at all times."

"Oh god." Yuriko grabbed my body's arm. "We're going to my room now. For studying. Just studying!"

"But what about break-"

"NOT HUNGRY!" Yuriko practically dragged Cleansuke down the hallway.

I caught a glimpse through her bedroom window as they entered - walls covered in anime posters, a desk buried under manuscript pages, and what looked suspiciously like character relationship charts pinned everywhere.

"Your living space requires immediate organizational intervention. Beginning with proper alignment of these wall decorations. They deviate from true horizontal by approximately 3.7 degrees."

Yuriko frantically waved her hands as Cleansuke reached for a crooked poster.

"No, no! The mess helps me think. It's like... organized chaos."

"Processing... Chaos cannot be organized by definition. However, acknowledging creative workspace requirements."

Cleansuke lowered my arm, though I could tell it was fighting every cleaning protocol in its system.

Yuriko flopped onto her bed, hugging a pillow. "Actually, I need your help with something else. You know how Yu-U-U Con is coming up?"

"Affirmative. Annual anime convention. Location: Inverted Dome."

"Well..." Yuriko buried her face in the pillow. "I'm doing a panel there. About Dorm Room."

My circuits practically shorted out.

"They're marketing it as a 'critique of modern romance literature' to dodge the ban." Yuriko peeked over the pillow. "But I'm terrified. I've never spoken in public as Fukui-sensei before. Could you... maybe help me practice?"

"Analyzing request. You wish to utilize my presence for panel simulation due to my knowledge of your secret identity?"

"Yes! You're literally the only person besides my editor who knows." Yuriko jumped up and grabbed a stack of index cards. "Here's my outline. I thought we could-"

"Accessing romance literature protocols." Cleansuke snatched the cards and began reading in a monotone: "The metaphorical significance of shared umbrella scenes represents a 47.3% increase in relationship progression when combined with accidental hand touches..."

"Wait, that's not-"

"Statistical analysis indicates hand-holding initiates cardiovascular acceleration in 89.7% of subjects..."

"You're making those numbers up!"

"Incorrect. Numbers derived from extensive cleaning observation data of student couples in hallways, courtyards, and unauthorized storage closet locations."

This panel is going to be a disaster.