<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/4/4a/Iris_Heart_-_Hyperdimension_Neptunia_-_2x3_portrait_-_mischeivous.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Natsuki Akuzawa<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Booth in a diner, then outside the diner<br/><strong>Time:</strong>Second day, afternoon<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>School uniform, without panties... then later with men's zebra-print silk boxers instead.<br/><strong>With:</strong>Biscuit<br/><br/>Natsuki thoroughly enjoyed the meal, which was an entirely new experience for her and all the more thrilling for it. She didn’t even care how awkward she looked with the cutlery – indeed, by the tine she was a few bites in, she’d forgotten about it.<br/><br/>Of course, with as much concentration as it took to manoeuvre the knife and fork, and deal with cutting the steak, she didn’t have a lot of mental capacity left over for any conversation. That was probably for the better; she didn’t really want to talk right now anyway. She wanted to put the day behind her and get back home to the dorm, to set up her phone and continue the process of settling in to this new life.<br/><br/>So the meal passed without further incident, and afterwards, Natsuki was so stuffed by the unaccustomed heavy food that she couldn’t put up any kind of argument to Biscuit paying. She’d cover a future meal, to be sure. At the moment, all she wanted to do was just lay back and<em>digest</em>.<br/><br/>And so, as she walked outside, her mind was in a bit of a lazy haze. There was a bit of a breeze, and in a few moments she was going to be on the back of the bike, nestled against Biscuit’s back, with the wind whipping her hair back, so she casually reached up her arms to gather her locks and restrain them a bit – pity she’d lost most of her hairpins when she went insubstantial.<br/><br/>That was what was on her mind as her arms were raised, gathering up her unruly hair, when a gust slipped between her legs, and lifted the front of her skirt all the way up.<br/><br/>In truth, Natsuki had known this was going to happen from the first time she put on the uniform skirt. She didn’t really have a problem with its shortness – to her it was no different from a pair of really short shorts… but its<em>looseness</em>was something almost completely alien to her. For most of the last decade of her life, she’d only worn institution jumpsuits – or occasionally just underwear – she hadn’t worn skirts since she was a little girl. It was a constant distraction walking around Denai the last two days, always conscious of how short her skirt was, and how<em>easy</em>it was to flip up, or see up when she was climbing stairs, and so on. For the last two days, at the slightest breeze, her hands were always defensively near her hem, ready to hold the skirt down at a moment’s notice if the wind gusted.<br/><br/>But now, in her post-gluttinous stupor, she let her guard down. Just for a moment.<br/><br/>Even then, it wouldn’t have been such a catastrophe. She would have preferred<em>not</em>to flash her panties at Biscuit, but that was hardly the end of the world.<em>Except</em>… when she had gone insubstantial earlier, she had been distracted, and left her panties behind. Again, in her post-meal lethargy, that had slipped her mind.<br/><br/>It only came back to her about a half second too late… when her skirt front was already fully raised, with Biscuit standing right in front of her tragically looking directly her way… and she felt the chilly brush of the breeze over smooth, clean-shaven flesh of her most intimate area.<br/><br/>For a moment, she just froze in shock and confusion, as her food-addled brain slowly tried to piece out why she was suddenly so<em>cold</em>down there. And then, after she realized what had just happened, she noticed exactly where Biscuit’s eyes were pointing.<br/><br/>And as innocuously as it had come, the mischievous breeze passed, and her skirt fell back down into place. Truth was, the whole flash had lasted for less than a second. But the damage had been done. Natsuki was still frozen in place, with her arms still raised to rein in her hair. Except now her eyes were wide, and her face was beet red.<br/><br/><strong>“Aaah~,”</strong>she made a noise, barely a squeak in her throat, as if she wanted to say something. But her brain was far too damaged trying to process the horrifying humiliation she had just endured. She stood rigid, not moving but for a not-too subtle tremble. She couldn’t even muster the presence to<em>scream</em>, she was so shocked and mortified. Indeed, she looked just about to faint.<strong>“Haaa~aaah~… Haaaahn~… Nuh-haaaaah~.”</strong><br/><br/>Thankfully Biscuit was able to recover faster than she was, and while she was still standing, frozen in her trembling, catatonic state, he thought quickly, and produced a pair of underwear for her. Men’s underwear. Rather<em>flashy</em>men’s underwear.<br/><br/>When he held them out to her, she took them mechanically, her body moving out of sheer habit because her brain was yet to full reboot from its crash. But when Biscuit turned around, that snapped her back to her senses, somewhat. She didn’t even have time to think any thoughts more complex than “need underwear”, followed by “have underwear”, followed by “must put on quickly”.<br/><br/>And so that’s what she did. Moving with twitchy, panicked fury, she awkward slipped her feet into the boxers – luckily they were large enough that it was no challenge to do so even with her shoes on. When she pulled them up, they were unsurprisingly loose, but thanks to her wide hips and rather full rear, she had enough curvature to keep them in place.<br/><br/>However, the legs were just long enough that they only just<em>barely</em>remained under the length of the skirt. Just about any move she made – even<em>walking</em>– would reveal them.<br/><br/>But that wasn’t the worst of it. Because a second or two after she had pulled the boxers on, she belatedly realized…<em>she had a swimsuit in the saddlebags</em>. Specifically, a two-piece, whose bottoms could certainly serve as an emergency panty. Sure they were brand new and she would prefer to wash them first… but these boxers were apparently brand new, too. And the bikini bottom, unlike the boxers, would at least stay comfortably hidden under her skirt. They’d also actually<em>feel</em>like she was wearing underwear, which these boxers didn’t.<br/><br/>So by the time Biscuit turned back around, she might have<em>looked</em>alright from the outside – so long as she was simply standing upright, it looked like the boxers would stay completely hidden under the skirt – but her face was a mask of horrified embarrassment: pale, eyes wide, a single tear rolling down her cheek, with a shell-shocked expression.<br/><br/><strong>“I’m ruined for marriage,”</strong>she whimpered.<strong>“I can never be a bride now.”</strong>