“Just out of a most likely misplaced sense of curiosity,” Emi asked, chewing the ice in her glass of water while she waited for the waitress to return with their drinks. “Why do they call you Momomoo?”

“Who calls Momo Momomoo?” Momo asked curiously, her eyes never leaving the chest of Asami sitting across from her.

“Uh…” Emi muttered, a sinking feeling she’d just stepped in something she would rather have not rising in her chest. “No…one?”

“It is fine,” Momo waved her hand dismissively. “It is because Momo’s last name is Ushi.”

“Momo…cow,” Emi muttered, feeling that somewhere down the line someone had a sick sense of humor and named themselves Ushi just to screw up the social lives of their descendants.

“That’s why they call Momo Momomoo,” Momo shrugged. Emi was very much struck with how peculiar the small creature sitting opposite her and Asami was. She had spoken only briefly during the truncated and uninteresting ‘tour’ she’d given Emi of the school grounds. Although Emi had tried to say goodbye once school ended and her and Asami had met up to head into town in the valley below the school, Momo had come along anyway with neither Emi nor Asami inviting her.

After buying far too much candy and with Momo still amongst them Emi had decided to invite her along to a post-shopping drink at a family restaurant nearby. Momo had nodded agreeably but her eyes almost never left Asami and Emi could tell her new roommate had no idea how to handle the attention. Even now Asami stared down at her hands in her lap, only occasionally reaching up to adjust her glasses nervously.

“Your name is Asami, yes,” Momo intoned, changing the subject deftly.

“Uh! Uh! Er…yes,” Asami squeaked in reply, glancing briefly up at Momo before returning her gaze to the table in front of her.

“Does Momo make you nervous?” Momo cocked her head to the side curiously.

“N-No! Not r-really,” Asami shook her head, causing her pigtails to bounce back and forth furiously.

“Can Momo see your oppai?” Momo asked after a moment’s pause.

“Huh?” Emi stared at the girl aghast, suddenly very intrigued by the small mammal’s bravado. Well, Emi decided, if Asami wasn’t weirded out by the moo before, she most certainly was now.

“What?” Asami gasped in shock, moving her hands up to cover her breasts in horror. “Why?” Emi noted with detached interest her roommate didn’t say ‘no’.

“Momo can’t tell what size and type of breasts Asami has and is curious,” Momo replied blandly, her expression never changing.

“Oh, yeah,” Emi nodded. “The, uh, the boob…thing. Right.”

“Boob thing?” Asami glanced over at Emi in confusion.

“Our little Moo here has a thing for body parts,” Emi shrugged as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“I-I don’t understand,” Asami shook her head, pig tails bouncing jauntily, hands not moving from where they were still covering her breasts.

“She nicknames people based on their breasts,” Emi tried to clarify.

“Eeeeh?”

“So, Momo can’t see your oppai?” Momo blinked at Asami.

“N-not right n-now, ok?” Asami stuttered, trying to muster a smile, and failing.

“Later?” Momo persisted. Asami glanced over at Emi for help. Emi shrugged noncommittally. While she felt for the girl, Momo seemed quite dogged.

“I-I’ll think about it…ok?” Asami chuckled nervously.

“Momo will look forward to your answer. In the meantime, you will be Plushy chan,” Momo returned evenly, taking a sip of her water.

“Plushy…chan?” Asami asked reluctantly.

“Your bottom is plush, like Mrs. Cocoa,” Momo licked several drops of water which had begun sliding down the outside of the glass. Asami’s already red face grew redder still until Emi thought the poor girl’s head would explode.

“My bottom?!” Asami yelped, drawing the attention of a few of the other patrons.

“Is it?” Emi asked. Emi glanced down at the space between her and her roommate to ascertain whether Asami’s butt was, in fact, plushy. Emi cocked her head curiously. What did “plushy” even mean?

“Mmm,” Momo nodded.

“Is mine plushy?” Emi glanced down, trying to twist her body to see her own butt with no success.

“No, Flatty imouto onee chan’s is pert,” Momo shook her head.

“That’s reasonable,” Emi shrugged, unable to disagree with the assessment, mainly due to having never actually seen her own butt before. She’d have to ask Mio when she called later. Obviously she’d have to skip the explanation of where the topic of her posterior came from, of course. Mio was surprisingly possessive, and Emi did not want to be murdered in her sleep by an angry first year taking the night train from Tottori with a vendetta and kitchen knife in her teeth. Emi glanced over at the beet red girl next to her and sighed.

“We should probably move off body parts, though, for now,” Emi smiled encouragingly at Momo. “We don’t want her to have a stroke, right?”

“Did Momo make Asami uncomfortable?” Momo asked blandly.

“W-Well…a little?” Asami stammered. “I’m not used to people discussing my body parts.”

“Momo is sorry,” Momo nodded. “Momo did not mean for that to happen.”

“It’s ok!” Asami hurriedly waved her hands to dismiss the other girl’s apology as being unnecessary.

“Here are your drinks,” the waitress said as she re-emerged from the back of the restaurant carrying a tray of glasses.

“Thank you!” Emi and Asami crowed happily.

“This melon drink is very good,” Asami marveled as she took a deep drink of the greenish liquid in front of her. “The ice cream makes it even better!”

“It is the Ramune Ice,” Momo nodded in satisfaction. “Very delicious.”

“Oh! Like a root beer float!” Emi exclaimed, peering into her glass to figure out how they’d created the rainbow effect. “This doesn’t taste like unicorn at all, though,” she finally said after a moment, swishing the liquid about in her cheeks before swallowing it.

“How is a unicorn supposed to taste?” Asami giggled at her.

“I don’t know,” Emi admitted. “I figured it’d taste more like misty vales and leprechaun jockeys and maybe, in a gross way, horse. Maybe more…earthy? I guess? I don’t know but I can say with certainty, though, this is not unicorn flavored. I like it. It’s just not unicorn.”

“Unicorn Sunset has always been confusing,” Momo shrugged slightly. “Lots of cherry and melon and blueberry and all the tastes seem to fight each other.”

“Yes!” Emi pointed to Momo excitedly. “That’s exactly it! What’d you get?”

“Orange.”

“Eh?” Emi cocked her head to the side, expecting something more elaborate. “Just…orange?”

“Yes.”

“Not, like, ‘orange bullet monkey’ or something like that?” Emi prompted.

“They do not have a drink like that,” Momo noted.

“Well, they should,” Emi muttered, poking her straw into her Unicorn Sunset.

“Momo prefers the simple flavor of orange,” Momo said with a shrug.

“It’s also a color,” Emi supplied helpfully, just in case that fact was lost on anyone.

“Yes,” Momo stared in her general direction unblinking.

“We need to go to the dorm after this,” Emi nodded as if deciding something monumental. “We have candy and will buy drinks. We’ll get high on sugar and party.”

“Party?” Momo tilted her head to the side as if Emi had suddenly broken into ancient Sumerian.

“Yep. We have lots to discuss after all.” The other two innocently agreed, neither knowing Emi well enough to question the wisdom of doing so.