It happened while you were sitting at the table, flipping through study notes while the scent of PekoMama’s tea drifted through the air. Pekora had gone to grab a phone charger upstairs, leaving you alone in the kitchen with her mother.

PekoMama hummed softly as she reached up to the top shelf for a jar of sugar. Her apron fluttered slightly with her movement, long silky blue-white hair swaying over her back. Then—she froze.

A small dark stain was slowly spreading through her apron.

She quickly turned away, her back now to you as she fidgeted nervously, voice barely audible.

“O-Oh no… not again…” she whispered to herself, hands pressed over her chest. “Why now…?”

You stood up instinctively. “Everything okay?”

“I–I’m fine, dear,” she replied quickly, still turned away. Her voice had gone soft and flustered. “It’s just… embarrassing. In front of my daughter’s… hot friend…”

You blinked. “Did you say—?”

She nearly jumped. “N-Nothing! I mean—it’s just a little… wardrobe issue.” She turned slightly to the side, revealing that the front of her apron had grown damp around her bust. “I made sure to wear… multiple layers this time,” she murmured, cheeks burning red.

The moment was tender, oddly intimate in its own quiet, domestic way.

That’s when Pekora’s voice rang out from the hallway.

“MOM?! WHY IS IT QUIET IN THERE—WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

PekoMama gave a soft squeak and turned away again, muttering something about needing to steep the tea.