Mayumi returned home from the gym with a slow exhale, her muscles aching from training. Her black cat ears flicked as she kicked off her shoes, her black tail swaying behind her. She wore a red shirt and black pants, her body no longer skinny but still strong, carrying a slight softness around her middle that she tried not to think about.

The kitchen was warm. Too warm.

Yuki stood at the counter, pink hair tied back, pink cat ears twitching with focus. Her purple shirt stretched slightly over her back, tight black pants hugging her wide hips and heavy butt as she leaned toward the oven. “I’m trying again,” Yuki said brightly. “I think this batch might finally be perfect.”

Mayumi crossed her arms. “You already tried them?”

Yuki nodded. “Of course. But I need a second opinion.” She hesitated. “Do you want one?”

Mayumi swallowed. “You know I would… but I can’t. Tournament’s in a few months. I have to stay in shape.”

Yuki’s ears drooped. “Oh. Then never mind.” She turned away. “I don’t want to ruin your chances. They probably aren’t good anyway.”

The words hit harder than Mayumi expected.

Before she could stop herself, Mayumi grabbed an Eclair and shoved it into her mouth.

Yuki spun around. “B-but you just said—”

Mayumi froze mid-chew. Her face burned as flavor flooded her mouth. Her thighs pressed together without her noticing, a soft sound escaping before she caught herself. “They’re… fine,” she said too fast. “But they need more cream.”

“More?” Yuki blinked. “A good Eclair can’t be stingy,” Mayumi said. “Right?”

Yuki smiled instantly and rushed back to the oven. When she was gone, Mayumi whispered under her breath, “They’re already perfect.”

⸻

A month passed.

Mayumi struggled in her room, hoodie pulled low as she tried to button her pants. The fabric dug into her stomach. Downstairs, Yuki called out, cheerful as ever. “Mayumi! New batch!”

Her pants ripped as she stood. She went anyway.

The bite made her blush again. “Better,” she said. “But it’s missing something.”

“What about training?” Yuki asked. “You haven’t gone in days.”

“I’ll be ready,” Mayumi replied. “Just… keep baking.”

⸻

Another month. 260 pounds. “More sugar.”

Another month. 320 pounds. Wearing Yuki’s clothes. “Fluffier.”

Another month. 500 pounds. No clothes fit anymore. “I’ll burn it off easily,” Mayumi said, not believing it herself.

Yuki had grown just as round, tasting every batch beside her.

⸻

Tournament day arrived.

Mayumi stepped onto the mat at 750 pounds, struggling to set her stance. “And in this corner,” the announcer said, “Mayumi the fatty—er—Fiery Fangs Kurue!”

Her ears flattened. “Did… did he just call me fat?”

Yuki cheered anyway, barely fitting in the bleachers.

⸻

{{user}}, choose: • Sit beside Yuki, morbidly obese and cheering • Face Mayumi as her opponent (choose your weight) • Or take the rolls