Back to overview

Unwanted desire

The Pheromone Pursuit of the Perverted Peasant

The morning sun over Tomobiki High should have signaled a fresh start for Shūtarō Mendō. Having survived the psychological warfare of his own subconscious and the literal lightning of a jealous Oni, he felt reborn. His stride was confident, his white suit was impeccably pressed, and his mind was blissfully free of golden collars. He was the heir to the Mendō Zaibatsu, a man of fifty-one percent of Japan, and he was back in control.

That control lasted exactly until he reached the school gates and saw Lum hovering over a very disgruntled Ataru Moroboshi.

"Darling, you have to try it! It’s a special tonic from my home planet!" Lum chirped, holding a sparkling, heart-shaped vial filled with a liquid that shimmered like liquid rubies. "It’s supposed to make you feel all warm and romantic. Maybe then you’ll finally say 'I love you' without me having to shock it out of you!"

Ataru leaned back, his face twisted in a grimace. "Forget it, Lum! Every time you give me an 'alien tonic,' I end up growing a second head or turning into a giant space-slug. I’m not drinking anything that glows more than my bedside lamp."

"But Darling, I worked so hard to get it!" Lum’s lower lip trembled, and small sparks began to dance along her horns.

"Fine, fine! Just stop the fireworks!" Ataru snatched the vial, uncorked it, and downed the contents in one go. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve, blinking. "Tastes like strawberries and... electricity? I don't feel any different. I still think you’re a nuisance and I still want to go find Sakura-chan."

Lum clapped her hands, her eyes wide with anticipation. "Wait for it! The instructions said it takes a moment to settle!"

Mendō, unable to resist the urge to gloat, stepped forward. "Still resorting to chemical warfare to win his heart, Lum-san? How tragic. A true gentleman needs no such—"

Ataru suddenly stiffened. His eyes, usually darting around in search of a skirt to chase, glazed over. A deep, primal flush crept up his neck, turning his ears a vibrant shade of magenta. He swayed on his feet, let out a low, shuddering breath, and then his head snapped up.

He didn't look at Lum. He didn't look at a passing schoolgirl. His gaze locked onto Shūtarō Mendō with the intensity of a starving wolf staring at a prime rib.

"Mendō..." Ataru whispered. His voice had dropped an octave, vibrating with a terrifying, honeyed rasp. "I never noticed how... symmetrical your jawline is."

Mendō froze, his hand flying to the hilt of his katana. "Moroboshi? What are you—stay back!"

Lum’s face paled as she frantically pulled a crumpled manual from her bikini top. Her eyes darted across the alien text, her expression shifting from excitement to pure, unadulterated horror. "Oh no... oh, no, no, no! This isn't the 'Eternal Romance' blend! This is the 'Galactic Heat' pheromone concentrate! It’s illegal in seventeen star systems!"

"What does that mean?" Mendō demanded, backing away as Ataru took a slow, deliberate step toward him, his nostrils flaring.

"It means it doesn't make him romantic!" Lum wailed, clutching her head. "It makes him feel... extremely, uncontrollably attracted to the first person he sees! And he saw you, Mendō-kun!"

Ataru lunged. He didn't try to punch or kick; he threw his arms around Mendō’s waist, burying his face in the crook of the aristocrat’s neck. "You smell like expensive cologne and... and destiny, Shūtarō. Why have we been fighting when we could have been... exploring?"

"GAAAH! GET OFF ME! UNHAND ME, YOU FILTHY PEASANT!" Mendō shrieked, struggling to pry the lecherous teenager off his person. Ataru was like a limpet, his grip fueled by the chemical desperation of a forbidden space-potion.

"Mendō-kun, listen!" Lum flew down, her face frantic. "I have to go back to the UFO to get the neutralizer, but it’s hidden in my father’s private vault! It might take hours! You have to watch him! You can't let anyone know he’s like this! If the teachers see him, he’ll be expelled for sure, and if my planet’s authorities find out I brought 'Galactic Heat' to Earth, they’ll deport me!"

"You’re leaving me with... with *this*?" Mendō pointed a trembling finger at Ataru, who was currently trying to nuzzle Mendō’s earlobe. "Lum-san, I am a victim of his subconscious! I cannot be his babysitter!"

"Please, Mendō-kun! You’re the only one strong enough to hold him back!" Lum pleaded, already beginning to ascend. "Keep him in the classroom! Don't let him see anyone else, or the effect might spread! I’ll be back as fast as I can!"

With a streak of yellow light, Lum vanished into the stratosphere, leaving Mendō alone in the schoolyard with a boy who was currently trying to nibble on his shoulder.

"Moroboshi, if you don't release me this instant, I will have you flattened by a Mendō-brand steamroller!"

Ataru pulled back just enough to look Mendō in the eye. His pupils were blown wide, shimmering with a dark, lustful energy. "You’re so handsome when you’re threatening me with industrial machinery. Come here, you big, beautiful bank account."

Mendō’s scream of pure terror echoed across the campus.

The first period was English, and it was a descent into a very specific type of hell. Mendō sat at his desk, his back rigid, while Ataru sat directly behind him, leaning so far forward that Mendō could feel the boy’s hot, rhythmic breathing against the back of his neck.

"Moroboshi," Mendō hissed through gritted teeth, "if you touch my hair one more time, I will commit a crime that will make the history books weep."

"I can't help it," Ataru murmured, his voice a sultry purr that made Mendō’s skin crawl. "Your hair is like silk. I want to weave a nest out of it. Let’s ditch class, Shūtarō. I know a spot behind the gym where the grass is very... soft."

In the seat next to them, Shinobu watched with a look of profound confusion. "Mendō-kun? Is Ataru... okay? He’s been staring at the back of your head for twenty minutes without blinking. And he’s... is he purring?"

"He is suffering from a localized, alien-induced neurological malfunction!" Mendō barked, sweat beading on his forehead. "Ignore him, Shinobu! He is a void! A non-entity!"

"A non-entity who wants to take you to the roof and see if your suit is as easy to take off as it looks," Ataru added, his hand creeping onto Mendō’s shoulder.

Mendō slammed his hand down on Ataru’s wrist, pinning it to the desk. "One more word and I’ll use my katana to perform an emergency lobotomy!"

The teacher, Onsen-Mark, slammed his book shut. "Mendō! Moroboshi! If you two are quite finished with your... whatever that is... please pay attention to the board!"

"We’re just discussing the poetry of the human form, sir!" Ataru called out, his eyes never leaving Mendō’s flaming red ears.

By lunchtime, Mendō was a nervous wreck. He had spent the morning physically barricading himself behind his desk, using his briefcase as a shield against Ataru’s wandering hands. He tried to hide in the cafeteria, but Ataru tracked him like a bloodhound, following the scent of Mendō’s sheer, aristocratic panic.

Mendō finally ducked into an empty hallway, only to be cornered against a row of lockers. Ataru slammed a hand on either side of Mendō’s head, a classic *kabedon* that felt like a death sentence.

"Nowhere left to run, Shūtarō," Ataru whispered, leaning in close. The smell of the potion was overwhelming now—a cloyingly sweet, floral musk that seemed to fog the brain. "Why are you fighting this? You know you’ve always wanted a 'good dog.' Well, I’m ready to be your best friend. Your *very* best friend."

"This is the potion talking!" Mendō yelled, his back pressed painfully against the cold metal. "You don't want me! You want anything with a pulse and a skirt! I am a man, Moroboshi! A man!"

"Gender is just a social construct when the pheromones are this high," Ataru countered, his gaze dropping to Mendō’s lips. "And right now, you’re the only construct I’m interested in. Give me a taste, Mendō. Just one. I’ll make it worth your while."

Mendō closed his eyes, praying for a meteor strike. "I’m going to die. I’m going to be kissed by Ataru Moroboshi in a hallway, and my life will officially be over."

"Not yet, you aren't!"

A heavy wooden kendo stick slammed into the floor between them. Ryūnosuke stood there, looking disgusted. "I thought the school felt even weirder than usual today. Moroboshi, what the hell are you doing? You look like you’re trying to eat Mendō’s face."

"Ryūnosuke! Save me!" Mendō scrambled under Ataru’s arm, hiding behind the crossdressing girl. "He’s been poisoned! He’s obsessed with me! It’s a biological catastrophe!"

Ataru turned his gaze to Ryūnosuke, and for a second, the potion flickered. He looked at her rugged, handsome features, her sharp eyes... then his gaze slid back to Mendō. "She’s alright, but she doesn't have your... sparkle, Shūtarō. Come back here. I wasn't finished measuring your shoulder width."

Ryūnosuke raised an eyebrow. "Sparkle? Mendō, did you give him drugs? Is this some weird revenge for the dream thing?"

"It’s Lum-san’s fault! She gave him a 'Galactic Heat' potion!" Mendō wailed. "Help me keep him away! If he touches me again, I’ll lose my mind!"

"Fine, but you owe me a year’s worth of lunch sets," Ryūnosuke grumbled, stepping in front of Ataru. "Alright, Moroboshi, back off. Go find a tree to hit on."

Ataru didn't back off. He lunged at Ryūnosuke, not with a punch, but with a desperate, lunging hug. "You’re in the way of my happiness! Move, you beautiful tomboy!"

The hallway erupted into chaos. Ryūnosuke tried to shove Ataru away, but the potion had given him the tenacity of a starving badger. He was dodging her strikes, weaving through her defenses, all while blowing kisses at a horrified Mendō.

"Shūtarō! Don't listen to her! Our love is written in the stars—and the illegal alien chemicals!"

Mendō turned and bolted. He ran through the corridors, his expensive shoes clicking on the linoleum, Ataru’s rhythmic shouting of "My darling Shūtarō!" echoing behind him. He burst into the school nurse’s office, slamming the door and locking it.

Sakura looked up from a medical chart, unbothered. "Mendō. You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Or perhaps another collar?"

"Sakura-san, please!" Mendō gasped, leaning against the door as something—presumably Ataru’s head—began to thud rhythmically against the wood from the other side. "Moroboshi... potion... sexually aggressive... save me!"

"Oh, the 'Galactic Heat'?" Sakura said, taking a calm sip of tea. "Yes, I smelled it as soon as he entered the building. It’s quite a potent aphrodisiac. Usually used by space-whales during mating season."

"Space-whales?" Mendō’s voice cracked. "I am being hunted by a space-whale in a school uniform! Do something! Exorcise him! Sedate him!"

"I can't interfere with alien biology without the proper permits," Sakura said, her tone professional. "Besides, it’s quite fascinating to watch. Your subconscious has been projecting him as your master, and now the universe has made *you* his obsession. It’s a very poetic irony."

"I DON'T WANT POETRY! I WANT SECURITY!"

The door suddenly groaned. The lock clicked, and the door swung open to reveal Ataru, his shirt partially unbuttoned, his hair a mess, and a look of absolute, unhinged devotion in his eyes.

"Found you," Ataru whispered.

He ignored Sakura entirely. He walked toward Mendō with a slow, predatory grace. Mendō backed up until he hit the nurse’s cot, tripping and falling backward onto the thin mattress. Ataru was on him in an instant, pinning Mendō’s wrists above his head.

"You’re so loud, Shūtarō," Ataru murmured, his face inches from Mendō’s. "Always yelling. Always fighting. Why don't we just... quiet down?"

Mendō’s heart was drumming a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He could see the sweat on Ataru’s brow, the heat radiating from the boy’s skin. For a terrifying, fleeting second, the sheer intensity of the attention—the kind of absolute, singular focus Ataru usually reserved for a dozen different girls at once—felt... overwhelming.

Ataru leaned down, his breath warm against Mendō’s lips. "Just one kiss. To seal the deal."

Mendō squeezed his eyes shut. "Lum-san, if you’re coming, do it now!"

*CRACK-BOOM!*

The ceiling of the infirmary didn't just leak; it exploded. A silver saucer-shaped projectile smashed through the roof, followed by a very frazzled Lum. She was holding a large spray canister labeled 'EXTINGUISH.'

"STAY AWAY FROM HIM, DARLING!"

Lum dived through the air, hitting the 'Release' valve. A cloud of thick, blue mist filled the room, smelling strongly of peppermint and vinegar.

Ataru stiffened. He let out a long, drawn-out sigh, and his grip on Mendō’s wrists loosened. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he slumped forward, his forehead landing squarely on Mendō’s chest with a dull *thump*.

Mendō lay there for a moment, staring at the shattered ceiling, the blue mist settling on his white suit like a layer of neon dust. He felt the heavy, unconscious weight of Ataru Moroboshi on top of him.

"Is... is it over?" Mendō asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Lum landed on the edge of the cot, looking exhausted. "Yeah. The neutralizer works instantly. He’ll be out for an hour, and when he wakes up, he won't remember anything from the last three hours."

Mendō shoved Ataru’s limp body off him, scrambled off the cot, and began frantically brushing the blue dust off his sleeves. "He better not. If he remembers even a second of this, I will move to a different hemisphere. I will change my name. I will become a monk in the Himalayas."

"Don't worry, Mendō-kun," Lum said, looking down at her sleeping 'Darling' with a mix of relief and annoyance. "I’ll tell him he just had a very bad reaction to some bad seafood. He’s used to that."

Sakura stood up, surveying the wreckage of her ceiling. "And who is going to pay for the roof? The Mendō Zaibatsu or the Oni Empire?"

"Bill it to my father," Mendō snapped, already smoothing his hair back into its perfect, aristocratic shape. "Just... get him out of here. Before I decide to finish what the potion started and strangle him."

Lum picked Ataru up, slinging him over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "Sorry for the trouble, Mendō-kun! I’ll make sure he stays far away from you for the rest of the day!"

As Lum flew out through the hole in the roof, Mendō stood in the middle of the ruined infirmary. He was safe. The potion was gone. The nightmare was over.

But as he walked toward the door, he caught his reflection in a glass cabinet. He looked at his neck, where the ghost of Ataru’s breath still seemed to linger. He shivered, a strange, unbidden flush creeping back into his cheeks.

"It was the chemicals," Mendō muttered to himself, his voice shaking. "Purely a biological reaction to an illegal alien substance. It meant nothing."

He walked out into the hallway, his head held high, his aristocratic mask firmly back in place. But deep down, in the darkest, most secret corner of the Mendō legacy, a small, terrifying thought took root.

Ataru Moroboshi was a lecher, a loser, and a peasant. But for three hours, he had looked at Shūtarō Mendō like he was the only thing in the entire universe that mattered.

"I need a drink," Mendō whispered to the empty hallway. "A very strong, very expensive, and very human drink."

Behind him, Cherry appeared from the shadows of a locker, slurping a final noodle. "The heart is a maze, young master! And sometimes, the only way out is to get lost!"

"SHUT UP, YOU OLD CRONE!" Mendō’s scream echoed through the school, a familiar, comforting sound that signaled the return of normalcy to Tomobiki High.