What he planned to do was anything but orthodox, and less than normal–in fact, this would normally be something of an act that would land one on a list, but he had on advantage he planned to use to its fullest:

Right now, once again, I’m a twelve-year-old boy! That means–I’m totally innocent! Free of suspicion! This is my chance! I’ll take a bath with Celly! He thought.

With utmost confidence, he tossed his clothes away as if he was some sort of male dancer, tossing them to the floor as without hesitation, holding a smile of overflowing belief in himself–he opened the door with a push of his palm.

Immediately, Celly’s eyes widened as she looked towards the door, covering her chest, “–Wha? Emilio?!”

“Yo, Celly,” he greeted her with his best attempt at a suave introduction.

There was no attempt by him to cover his own body as he strutted into the bathroom like he owned the place.

This was a strategy of its own. In fact, it was the core aspect of this operation: “Mission: Celly Bath time”

What benefit did this have, you ask?

A kid wouldn’t care about something like this one way or another. If I get all flustered about it or excited, she’ll catch on! But! If I just act like I’m here to use the bath as well, just like any good-minded kid would do–Celly will have no reason to suspect I’m actually a complete degenerate who wants to gawk at her parts! He thought.

Celly, on the other hand, was on the complete opposite side of the spectrum–already a flustered mess as she kept switching between covering her chest and shielding her eyes._.

“What’re you doing in here, Emilio…?” Celly asked.

He flicked his blonde-and-black locks up, “Why am I here? What more reason is there to use the bath than to bathe?”

“–” Celly looked at him for a moment with a reddened face.

He could almost see it then; though Celly was using her arms to cover her chest, he could see a good portion of the heavenly mounds.

As he stood there for a moment, feeling the air brush against his parts that were normally protected from the whispers of the wind, he watched Celly, who seemed to be contemplating the sudden, unexpected situation.

Alright. First step down–she didn’t immediately kick me out or run out of the bathroom! He thought.

–For his next move, he closed the door behind him, shutting it with an important thought in mind:

If the door is closed, it’ll be less on her mind for me to leave! He thought.

It was embarrassingly well throughout, though most of it was pure improvisation from the lecherous twelve-year-old.

Twelve years…It’s been twelve years since I came into this world–there’s no internet here–so there’s no porn! There’s no dirty magazines! None of that! For twelve years, the only thing in my spank bank was my imagination! That changes now, Celly! He resolved.

The goal was to get a true peek at everything Celly had to offer, and he was just a few key steps away now.

“C-can’t you wait just a few minutes, Emilio…?” Celly asked.

“Nope.”

Without missing a beat, he declined her words instantaneously–shutting them down as he began to march forward towards the tub that held the object of his desire.

“N-no?” Celly repeated, “…Well, I’ll just get out now then–”

“–!”

In that moment, time slowed down for him; his perception crawled to a slow pace as he saw his mission being compromised as Celly began to pull herself out of the tub.

But, the synapses in brain fired off, running through endless simulations of what he could say, flipping through all potential responses in that second before he chose–

Tears.

“Waaa!”

He began to cry, sniffling as releasing tears as he held his hands close to his eyes, letting the tears flow without any restraint.

Celly stopped, sitting back in the tub, utterly flustered as she waved her hands around, “–Huh? What? What’s wrong, Emilio…?”

He sniffled, peeking with one eye as he saw Celly back in the tub.

Good–it’s working! He thought.

“I-I usually bath with my mom…but she can’t tonight…the water is scary,” he continued, letting out his crocodile tears.

In his mind, he was experiencing an entirety different set of emotions:

Holy shit! Kill me! This is so embarrassing! Are twelve-year-olds even supposed to cry over stuff like this?!–Bear with it! You’re so close now! He thought to himself.

“Okay! Okay…Calm down…” Celly assured him.

It was clear that the meek young lady wasn’t used to handling situations like this as he was putting on his best act as a crying child.

He sniffed, wiping his tears, “So I can…?”

Celly hesitated for a moment with a begrudged expression, “…I suppose it’s alright.”

He almost had to his own lips from forming a smile of complete lechery as he instead grinned with his childlike innocence he used for less than innocent means, “Yay!”

Without any hesitation, he hopped into the tub, sitting across from Celly as he sank into the warm water.

Alright! That was the hardest part!–Now, it’s smooth sailing, he thought.

Being so close to her, he first got a really good look at her appearance in a new light–he had seen her almost always wearing that large, pointy hat, but now it was just her in her natural form.

There was never any doubt of how beautiful her silver hair was as it cascaded down her shoulders like a silken sea of exuberance. It was quite long; it seemed to reach down to her lower back.

It was difficult to decipher her age, but she definitely looked no older than eighteen to him, but likely anywhere from fifteen to nineteen.

This was mostly due to how smooth and free of wrinkles or any blemishes her skin was; it was pale and delicate as if she was a doll. Part of her youthful appearance though was due in part to her cute button nose and her cheeks that were plump-seeming and pinchable.

Celly was doing her best to avert her gaze as her sparkly, emerald irises held a certain refinement of them, mixed of wisdom and elegance, mostly focused on washing her own body.

Though, none of this was even mentioning the aspects of her that were normally not on full display to the young boy.

BA-DUMP. BA-DUMP.

Of course, this was still an experience he was very much foreign to–being this close to a girl in the nude, obviously.

Calm it! Calm it! Excalibur shall not awaken yet! He urged himself.

An experience like that was enough to become a “core memory” in the young boy’s mind; though he spent the next few nights completely swallowed in cringe from the act he had put on.