Even though a small chill ran down her spine at the way Mika's eyes glinted, Yelena stubbornly refused to let it show.

She folded her arms beneath her chest, lifted her chin, and looked down at him with a confident, mocking smirk.

"Go on then, Mika. Do whatever you want. Nothing you do will affect me."

She said firmly, her tone laced with pride.

"A little brat like you could never shake the mind of someone like me with your mischievous comments."

Mika only smiled at that, a sharp, playful smile that made her heartbeat skip.

"Sure, Yelena, maybe just a few words won't hurt you. But…" He leaned closer, his voice dropping. "…What if I show you a live demonstration of why exactly you've gotten a little bigger lately?"

Her brows knitted in confusion, ready to ask what he meant. "Demonstration? What are you—"

Grope!

—until she gasped, utterly caught off guard, when his hands suddenly moved and boldly grabbed at the soft flesh of her belly.

"Mika—!" Her voice cracked with indignation. "What the hell are you doing grabbing me there?!"

She slapped at his wrists, squirming, but he didn't even glance at her.

Instead, he kneaded the soft flesh of her stomach, rubbing into it, pressing, squeezing, purposefully making her feel every bit of it, as he chuckled.

"I'm doing exactly what I said. Showing you where you've gained a little."

His tone was maddeningly calm, but laced with unmistakable amusement.

"Back then, you worked out so much. Remember those mornings we'd go jogging? You'd wear those tight running clothes, and your stomach...it was so flat, so firm."

"While the other mothers had bellies you could poke and sink into, yours was perfect...I used to think, damn, I should train like her."

Her face burned red, both from embarrassment and anger. "S-Stop talking nonsense—!"

But Mika went on mercilessly, pinching the faint layer of softness, tugging at it between his fingers.

"But look at you now, Yelena. You've slacked off, haven't you? Had one too many snacks late at night. Skipped a few jogs. And now…" He gave her side a playful squeeze. "Dinner rolls. Right here."

"M-Mika!" She gasped, trembling under his touch, her voice breaking as she tried to keep her composure.

The fluster on her face was so obvious, but she refused to give him the satisfaction.

She wanted to snap at him, to pinch his hand so he'd finally take it away from that sensitive spot she was so embarrassed about. The urge was sharp and immediate, but she held it back.

If she reacted now, if she let him see her flustered, it would be as good as surrender. He would know he had gotten to her, and she couldn't bear the thought of giving in so easily, of letting him see her lose that battle of control.

So, she drew in a sharp breath, lifted her chin, and let out a cold little shrug.

"Hmph...It's not that big of a deal, Mika."

"So what if I have a little more fat? It's natural. I'm a woman of my age. It's nothing like you're exaggerating."

Her words were steady, but the blush staining her cheeks betrayed her.

Hearing this, Mika tilted his head, smirk tugging at his lips as he looked up at her.

"Is that so?" His voice dropped lower, playful yet taunting. "Fine. Maybe you're fine with your belly." His hands slowly slid downwards, making her shiver. "But then...what about these?"

Before she could react, his palms cupped around her thighs through the thin nightgown she wore, squeezing the soft flesh which made Yelena jolt, her eyes widening again.

"M-Mika—!"

But he hummed like he hadn't heard her.

"I remember these well. I used to fall asleep on them, you know?"

"I still remember how they felt. Soft, but firm enough that I could rest comfortably. I memorized their shape a long time ago."

His fingers pressed in, testing, kneading, before squeezing tighter. His smirk widened.

"But now...now they've changed. They're softer. Much softer. If they were pillows before...then right now, they're clouds. Big, plump, unbelievably soft clouds."

Yelena's eyes narrowed dangerously as his words sank in. That little smirk of his only made the heat in her cheeks flare higher.

She wanted so badly to pinch his cheeks until he yelped, to scold him for daring to tease her in such a way, but she knew that was exactly what he wanted. If she snapped, he'd win.

So she bit back the impulse, her jaw tight, her pride clinging on by threads.

"You're wrong, Mika!" She sniffed, tilting her chin up with a forced air of superiority. "It's not my thighs that have gotten fat. It's your memory that's gone completely astray."

She pointed at him with a accusatory gaze like he was at fault and went on to say,

"You've been gone so long, Mika, you've forgotten the feeling. It's your fault for abandoning us, abandoning me."

"If you'd stayed where you belonged, sleeping on my lap like before, you'd know nothing's changed. You wouldn't be spouting such nonsense."

Her gaze softened into something pitiful, guilt-tripping, as she leaned closer.

"You've forgotten everything, haven't you? Forgotten what it feels like to rest on me. And now you can't even recognize the thighs you used to love so much."

She said it with so much conviction she almost believed it herself. Surely that would shut him up. Surely he would back down.

But Mika only smiled, calm, maddeningly calm.

"Maybe you're right. Maybe I really did lose my sense of touch. Maybe my memory's off."

Her heart leapt, she was winning. He was admitting it!

Until that smirk returned.

"But even if my touch is dull...I still have my eyes. And there are some things I'll never forget."

Before she could demand what he meant, his hands slipped lower, cupping firmly around the swell of her ass.

"Ah—!" Yelena's cry tore out before she could stop it, her whole body jolting at the sudden grope.

Her hands shot to his wrists, instinctively trying to pull him off, but his grip only grew firmer, palms spreading and squeezing at the plush flesh. Her composure cracked, a tremble running through her thighs as he kneaded her like he owned her.

Her voice came out broken, flustered. "M-Mika! W-What are you, stop grabbing me there! Y-You can't—"

But he didn't even glance up. He just kept massaging, thumbs circling, fingers pressing deep into her softness as if testing its give.

"Mm. That's what I thought. This, this I could never forget. Your ass, Yelena. I've known it for years. Engraved in my memory."

He gave a slow squeeze, relishing the way she whimpered despite herself.

"Back then when I was a kid, I was quite short..." He went on smoothly. "...so whenever we walked together, I couldn't see your face if I looked straight ahead. All I ever saw was this..Your butt."

Another squeeze.

"Day after day, walk after walk, I watched it shake around since I couldn't see anything else and because of that I memorized it perfectly. I could probably even sketch it from memory, every curve, every sway."

"...That's how much it stuck with me."

Her blush deepened, horror and embarrassment mixing as she shook her head rapidly.

"Y-You perverted brat! Let go of me this instant! Don't you dare talk about me like, ahh—!"

Her protest broke into a gasp when his fingers dug in again, making her feel every humiliating word.

"But today? Walking behind you, I realized...it's different. Bigger. Softer. Juicier. Almost like someone poured extra fat into these buns of yours. Look at this..." He slapped one cheek sharply.

Smack!

"Eek!" Yelena jolted, her hands flying to her reddening face as she felt the reverberating jiggle.

Mika chuckled darkly, squeezing again. "See? Even with one slap, they wobble like jelly. Tell me I'm wrong."

Feeling the sting on her ass, her lips quivered, shame burning through her. She tried to keep her pride, tried to argue, but every squeeze, every bounce made it harder to form words.

"N-no...y-you're exaggerating, Mika...i-it's not...I-I'm not fat!"

But Mika wasn't done.

"No. I'm telling the truth." He kneaded harder, both palms groping as if testing dough, her flesh spilling between his fingers. "The moment I saw them, I knew they'd been upgraded. Not just in size. In softness. In jiggle-ness."

Her teeth sank into her lower lip, her eyes wide and glassy as he went on.

"Like for example, before, when you walked, they just swayed gently. Enchanting, sure. I used to laugh to myself, thinking it looked like your butt was walking alongside you...But now?"

His grin turned sharp, daring, as he smacked her ass again, watching the ripple travel through her flesh.

"Now it bounces. Like water. Like jelly. Hypnotic. The smallest step, and it shakes all over."

"M-Mika, stop it!" She cried, her voice trembling, her body flinching at the fresh jiggle his slap had caused. "Y-You're embarassing me! You can't say such things to the same women who took care of you for all those years! Have some gratefulness!"

But he only leaned back, smirking up at her trembling face.

"Embarassing you? No, Yelena, I'm just being honest and trying to inform you about what you were ignoring before. And you can deny it all you want, but even now...Smack!"

He slapped her ass again, harder this time, and grinned when her whole body jolted at the sound.

"See? One slap, and it proves everything that I've just told."

Yelena froze at the sharp sting on her ass, her whole body jolting with the sound of Mika's slap still ringing in her ears.

Heat bloomed across her rear, the warmth spreading slowly through her body, and yet her face was caught between livid red fury and a flustered blush. Her eyes narrowed dangerously, flashing like she wanted to tear into him with her teeth.

But the truth was, it wasn't the spanking that had her this furious.

If he had done it playfully, in one of their usual moments of cuddling or teasing, she would have brushed it off, maybe even enjoyed it as nothing more than affectionate banter.

She never saw that sort of touch as inappropriate coming from him who was basically her son, if anything, she might have even preferred him being bold and playful like that.

No, what broke her pride was the way he was belittling her while doing it.

The way he called her fat, jiggly, comparing her to something soft and wobbly.

...That dug far deeper than the palm of his hand ever could.

For someone like Yelena, who carried herself with such pride, to hear those mocking words from him of all people, it was unbearable. She felt humiliated, her chest tight with shame, her body burning not from his touch but from the sting to her pride.

And Mika knew it. He could see it in her trembling lips, in the way her face reddened, not from desire but from sheer indignation and seeing this he decided to take his teasing to the very limit to see her adorable reactions

So just, just as her anger sharpened, Mika's hands shifted—

Instead of another mocking squeeze, his arms slipped around her waist, pulling her down until her body was flush against his. Their chests pressed tight, her breasts rising and falling over his face, and when she glanced down, his eyes had softened into something that almost undid her entirely.

Gone was the smirk. In its place: warmth, tenderness, a gaze that said I see you, and I still want you.

"Yelena…" He murmured, voice low and steady. "Let me just say that you don't misunderstand, that even though you've gained here and there, even though it's obvious you're softer than before...I don't care. I don't care at all."

"You're the women who raised me my whole life, so I love you just the same. No matter how much your body changes, I'll never look at you differently."

The sudden gentleness made Yelena's raging heart bloom.

All the fire in her chest melted into heat in her throat, her anger cracking apart under the weight of his affection. Her lips parted soundlessly, eyes shimmering as she searched his face for any hint of mockery, but there was none.

Just that raw, honest look that seemed to accept every inch of her and against her will, her heart softened. Arms lifted, circling his neck, pulling him closer as if she might drown in him if she didn't.

And it was quite obvious, he was already forgiving him, already melting like wax under his touch.

That was the infuriating truth about Mika, no matter how much he teased, no matter how he pushed, one tender word and she was his again.

Too easy to fool, too easy to soothe. Her anger felt almost ridiculous now as she nuzzled against him, her lips brushing his ear.

But then, just as her heart fluttered with relief, his voice came again, playful, quiet, and utterly cruel.

"But do you know why I don't mind, Yelena? Why I wouldn't care if you got even plumper, even thicker everywhere?"

Her breath caught. She expected a compliment, something that would seal this tender moment, a declaration of her kindness, her golden heart, her strength as a woman. Her eyes brightened in anticipation, her chest lifting with pride.

But instead, he smiled and said to her shock,

"...It's because I love pork."

Her mind went blank at the statement and the only word she could utter in response was, "…What?"

"What I'm saying is that I really love pork." Mika repeated innocently, almost cheerfully. "So, that's why I'm saying I don't mind at all that you've gotten this plump. It just makes me love you more."

For a heartbeat, she didn't understand.

Pork?...Bacon?...Pig?

The words rattled in her ears with confusion.

But then, realization struck like a hammer, the realisation that he wasn't comparing her softness to pillows anymore—but to meat, to swine, to the fattened animal itself.

And realising this, something broke inside her.

Her entire body stiffened, her face freezing in shock before twisting into an expression so dark and dangerous it made Mika's smirk falter for the first time.

Her chest heaved, rage boiling to the surface, pride screaming in her ears.

A pig...He had called her a pig.

She could have excused all the others things he has said before since she was extremely tolerant when it came to Mika, more so then her own daughter.

But to actually call her a damn pig!

....That was last straw on the camels back.

Slowly, her head tilted down, her gaze locking onto his with a fury so cold and sharp it could have carved him open.

Her lips curled, teeth gritting, and in that silence Mika actually shivered, his gut instinct warning him that maybe, just maybe, he'd taken his teasing one step too far and wished he hadn't call her a livestock animal that loves to roll mind...