Five Buns Full: Chapter 5 (Patreon)

Nino’s fingers worked like the feet of a dancer, twirling the next roll between her forefinger and thumb before dunking it into the creamy ginger sauce. The roll was almost as round as her sister, although which of the cows she meant, Nino couldn’t discern. 

She turned, nostrils flaring as her body took this first overburdened opportunity to breathe, to see the walking sculpture of dough embracing a startled looking girl that looked as if she’d just jogged here from the gym. Yotsuba, her hair as bright as the sudden surprise in her eyes, looked as if she were about to buckle beneath Itsuki’s excited embrace.

Nino couldn’t blame her, having the perfect view of Itsuki’s hammy behind. 

For the love of God, even her hair looked fat! It fell down to her calves, long waves of red curling around the rolls of her body. A red sea that spilled around her huge black pants, her ass made to look even bigger by pockets that were the size of Nino’s head. 

Miku, who only moments ago looked like an overburdened pig, was half of Itsuki’s size. Maybe even less! 

Itsuki took a step back, her mouth open in a huge and pleasant grin, which had dimples of excitement while Yotsuba looked as if she might just bolt for the door.

Again.

Nino immediately frowned at herself, stopping mid-chew to glare at her chest. As if that was where the judgmental thought had come from. She turned back to her plate, opening her mouth, and taking another roll without really paying attention. “Stupid wolf,” she whispered to herself.

Yotsuba running wasn’t her thought. It was her husband’s, infected into her mind through joined matrimony. He’d made his feelings on the topic known years ago, and while Nino had been… well, it hadn’t been a clean issue, but how could it be? He was right.

But that didn’t change the guilt that twisted in her mind as Yotsuba was guided to a seat by her much larger little sister. “You can sit next to me! I’ll go and make you a plate, I’ve got to talk with the waitress.”

“O-okay.” Yotsuba visibly swallowed as she stared at Itsuki’s waggling tummy, clearly uncomfortable. 

Miku took the seat on Nino’s right, having picked out a small plate from the buffet. “Do you want any more?” she asked Nino.

Nino realized that she was still chewing, and the taste of the ginger finally reached through to her head. The flavor was deep, heavily spiced, and bringing with it the enlightened feeling of pleasant content from her belly.

She swallowed before responding. “No,” she said, looking back to her plate. It still had two stacks of eight pieces, each packed with rice, vegetables, and different types of fish. “I’ve got more than enough.”

“Isn’t there a thing?” Ichika asked as she settled on her left. “Like, you can’t eat fish?”

Nino twisted to look, spotting that the actress had only taken four pieces from the bar, while the blush on her cheeks and the glass in her hand was beginning to signify that the drink might have taken her.

It took Nino a moment to realize what she was asking. “Oh, because- No. You’re thinking of the mercury that deep sea fish have, like sharks.” She began poking around on her plate. “Most fish are fine, like tuna or salmon. Oysters, some shrimp. Stuff like that’s okay.”

“When did you become an expert?” Ichika asked, her mouth pulled up at the side.

Nino scowled. “How couldn’t you?” she shot back, her fingers taking another piece. Tuna, likely a slice of toro by the look, glistened with a tasty pink fatness before she dunked it in the ginger. “You’re gonna be like this one day.”

Ichika snorted, lifting her drink. “Yeah, we’ll see.”

“You’ve chopsticks right here,” Miku offered, reaching past Nino’s plate and fingering a red paper pack of chopsticks.

“Sushi is a finger food,” Nino said back, dunking her piece until the white ginger soaked her nails. “You can eat it however you want.”

She dipped her head back and dropped the piece through her teeth, catching it with her tongue. The seaweed fell apart instantly, giving her the full flavor of ginger mixed into the soy-stained rice. The tuna was absolutely toro, as it was chewy with an extremely succulent fat. The fish must have been huge given the size of the rolls, and Nino decided in that moment that it was definitely as round as Itsuki, although assumedly more delicious.

“If you’re a slob…” Miku said back, tearing her own chopsticks apart.

“Hey!” Nino munched on the sushi, pushing it into the corner of her cheek with her tongue. The cold ginger spluttered on her lips and she covered her mouth. “How’s that sloppy? I’m just eating!”

The two sisters looked over as the growing argument was interrupted by a short, relieved laugh. Yotsuba had her hand to her chin, forefinger slowly sliding over her lips. She looked as if she’d been about to cover her smile but decided not to. “Sorry,” she said, drawing an inquisitive look from either girl.

“For what?”

“You don’t have to apologize!” 

“I’m thankful,” Yotsuba said, leaning back on her seat. “Nino and Miku seem so… familiar.”

The two girls looked at each other, each getting a reflection of their confusion.

“I was worried that everyone would be different,” Yotsuba went on. “That everything would have changed.”

“Things are different,” Nino automatically replied, looking down at Miku’s stomach.

The fat-girl’s hands wrapped protectively over her middle. “W-would you cut that out?” she stammered. “I’m well aware of my… size.”

Nino sagged back in her seat with a sigh, a protective hand wrapping around her middle. The more she focused on it, the more she could feel, and the hungrier she seemed. “Yeah, I’m aware of mine too. And to think I was sweating so much about just twenty-five pounds.”

“Twenty-five pounds is a lot,” Ichika chimed in. “I’m still a hundred and twenty.”

Like statues of ice, both Miku and Nino turned on their sister. The frost of their glares had Ichika raising her hands against the outpouring cold.

“N-not that there’s anything wrong with being a little over that!”

Miku’s stare became a glare.

“Well, to be fair, she’s right.” Nino reached down to the table, poking Miku in her pudgy tummy. She felt her finger sink into the warm blubber that surrounded her belly button. “You really did let yourself go.”

“It’s the baking,” Miku said in a soft whine, her lips puckered into a pout that grew hot on her cheeks. “I have to sample what I bake to make sure it’s right.”

“You’re supposed to sample a slice, not half of the cake.”

Very gently, Miku took Nino’s hand by the wrist. She lifted it until Nino’s finger was pointing at Itsuki, who was approaching the table with two full plates and a waitress bringing a spare chair.

“You know,” Ichika said, “I think that’s fair.”

“Yup! Right there, thank you Miss Moon!” Itsuki said cheerfully as the young waitress put the seat down next to the unoccupied one. She set the smaller of the plates, only three stacks of sushi filling the surface, in front of Yotsuba before placing her tower in front of herself.

Nino stared, knowing what she was seeing but not really believing it until Itsuki sighed, pulled the two seats next to each other, and then sat down on both seats. One full seat to contain either of her person-sized butt cheeks.

It was sort of like watching a car accident, but this was too involved. Rather than the twisting feeling of watching an unstoppable event, each wobbling step a terrific catastrophe, the low speed crash began to accelerate. Before each of their eyes the scene twisted, the semi-truck changed, and it was suddenly their own butterball reflection that filled up two heavy seats.

Four girls looked upon their own bodies, fatter than fat and rounder than round, before with a huff and a puff their sister retuned, wearing a smile as innocent as the golden glow of the sun. 

Itsuki, who was apparently used to such a necessity, wasn’t even bothered by the fact that she needed eight legs to hold up what most ladies used four. Her porky fingers rolled over the top of her tummy, which her sagging breasts were using for a table for themselves. They were by far the smallest part of the girl, but they still looked so massive, as if no tape could possibly measure such a high number.

It took her a moment to finish cleaning whatever invisible stain had marked her shirt, the ripples of flesh jiggling through her huge arms and her doughy belly. Then she looked up.

Then she started sweating.

“W-what?” she stammered, looking wildly around as each girl stared. Her brilliant blue eyes were highlighted by her chubby red cheeks. “Did I do something?” she blushed. Her hand went to her face. “Is there something wrong with my glasses?”

After a moment, Miku coughed. “I’m two hundred and fifty.”

Itsuki made a noise that sounded like an elephant trying to swim upside down. “Oh, God. Yes, alright, I’m fat. I know. You know. Everyone here knows,” her big arms waved around at the restaurant at large. “Now get over it! I’m twenty-five, I can eat what I want!”

The way she said it had Nino turn immediately to Miku. The exact same words, even the exact same tone.

Miku, catching the look, smiled, “She says it a lot.”

“I was wrong. You are still good at dressing up.”

Her sister sat up a little bit straighter before her tummy cut into two as she bowed. “Why, thank you.”

“D-did you quote me while you were disguised?!” Itsuki flared, her fat hands folded on top of her stomach like some obese dinosaur.

“You use the same phrases a lot,” Miku shrugged.

Itsuki scowled. “I’m twenty-five! I’ll use whatever words I want!”

Nino snuffled, laughing into the back of her hand before Ichika, Miku, and Itsuki herself finally joined in, who laughed with the hearty chuckle of a bemused porpoise, earning another chorus of laughs from each of her sisters. It was such a cheerful sound, causing Itsuki to laugh even harder and bringing out the slightest of snorts from the others.

Nino lifted her arms, taking Ichika in one and Miku in the other. “I missed you girls,” she said sincerely. 

Miku blushed, lifting her arm to Itsuki, who took it and offered her own to Yotsuba. Yotsuba took both her and Ichika’s, completing the circle. “We missed you too,” Miku said. “We should meet more.”

“I’d love that!” Itsuki said.

“Me too.” Ichika was the first to let her arms drop, and the circle came apart as each girl reached down for her meal.

“Alright. Together?” Itsuki asked, tapping her palms together.

Nino snorted a laugh. “I’m like halfway done.”

Itsuki frowned disapprovingly. “You’ve still got so much left!”

“I was hungry,” Nino shrugged before a look from Miku had her sigh. She joined the other girls as they all clapped their hands. 

“Thanks for the food!” they each said aloud, bringing Nino’s mind back to five tiny girls, sitting at a plastic table and drinking fake tea.

She smiled, placing her hand on her belly. 

Fuutarou was going to lose it, but that idiot could get over himself. If they could manage one kid, they could manage two. She’d have to make sure her daughter had a nice little sister.

She laughed, feeling a pink blush coloring her own cheeks as she thought about her baby. Not even three weeks into her pregnancy, and she was thinking about how she’d have to make sure he knocked her up again. But it was important!

Almost as important as it was for Mama to have another roll of that overweight sushi.

The glowing mother-to-be picked another bite of the delicious fatty tuna, ignoring Miku’s eyes as she dunked it into the small ginger bowl before dropping it whole into her mouth. Sumo-sized piece for a sumo-sized hunger, Nino felt a growl travel up from her wanting tummy as the ginger sparkled against the warm coals that were her taste buds, bringing out the juicy flavor of the toro and of watery squirt of the rolled up veggies. She chewed twice before dropping another ginger-soaked piece into her mouth, letting the flavor really flow over her.

It was so delicious, so pleasant to just eat food and not think about calories or diets or the weight on her waist. Sure, her wardrobe had already returned to being form-fitting, but she was bound to rebound for a couple of pounds. She’d need maternity clothes anyways, and what mom didn’t have a few extra pounds? It was weight that would melt off after the pregnancy. She was as sure of it as she was that the perfect compliment to the tuna would be the bubbling sip of her carbonated soda.

A wash of grape tickled her tongue, pulling the ginger down along with a stream of bubbles as she took a deep swig from her bottle. The Mitsuya Cider was perfect, the carbonation washing her tummy and filling out where the rumbling hunger now purred with content. Another swallow and a slight pressure had formed in her belly from a roll swallowed too quickly. Nino sighed, patting herself before whispering the burp into her fist and then sagging into her chair.

She didn’t see Ichika looking down the line of her sisters like a line of progression, each thoroughly entertained by their meals. Itsuki and Nino were practically in sync, eating full mouthfuls and dropping rolls in their bellies, making substantial noises of enjoyment like soft foodie queens. 

Miku, in the center, was only a touch more reserved. Unlike the other two girls, she was aware of Ichika’s look, even seemed to be entertained as she looked from Nino to Itsuki while both girls dropped another roll into their mouths and rumbled through closed eyes.

Ichika chuckled, picking up her phone and framing the girls with Miku in the center. The middle quintuplet brushed her hand over her mouth before posing with her chopsticks while both Itsuki and Nino ate with their hands. Ichika snapped the picture, grinned at their expressions, and then poured herself another shot.

“What is that?” Yotsuba asked.

“Eh?” Ichika looked up. “Oh, it’s saké.”

Yotsuba’s chin curled into her chest and she gave Ichika a disparaging look. “I know what saké is! What flavor?”

Ichika was already moving to pour her sister a glass. “It’s plum! Here, try some.”

“Ooooh,” Yotsuba took the tiny cup before hesitating as Ichika poured herself another. She waited and, together, the girls knocked back their drinks. 

Ichika tucked into a snorting laugh as Yotsuba nearly fell out of her chair, making the retching noise of disgusted racoon. “Oh, hough God,” Yotsuba coughed, holding up the glass and squinting through tears. “At tast nothing like plum!” she spluttered, putting the glass back down. 

However, she didn’t pull back as Ichika poured another shot into her glass and, again, they drank together.