A Cure for Post-Apocalyptic Depressions [male-futa, anal, oppai-loli]

Hi. This is just a fluffy love-story without any gross or violent stuff. Please enjoy.~

Ton opened his eyes. It was dark. He yawned, rubbed his eyes and then he sighed. Ton wished that he could fall asleep again and return to the same dream he just had. In his dream, the sun had been shining and there had been many people. They all had been Ton's friends and they had talked, laughed and had fun for hours and hours. It had been a beautiful dream. But like all dreams, it was bound to fade. Already, Ton was forgetting about its contents. He sighed again, then he forced himself to put on a weak grin.

“No reason to get all upset over some dream. Not right after waking up.” Ton said to himself. Soliloquizing was recommended. Not only was it said to have a positive effect on the psyche, it also prevented him from gradually forgetting how to speak. Because there weren't a lot of people around that Ton could have talked to. Not any, to be exact.

Only dressed in his boxers, Ton got up from his bed and walked over to the window. It was still raining. The whole sky was covered in dark-red clouds. The sea underneath was pitch-black. Ton kept staring at the apocalyptic scenery for a while. Rain was a bad thing because it made the radiation level rise. But Ton kinda liked the constant sound it made. He preferred it over the deathly silence of the dry days.

Ton walked over to the couch and sat down, still looking outside the window and watching the raindrops being whirled around in the wind. “Time for breakfast.” he said to himself. It actually was a joke. Fourteen bottles with pills were lined on the table in front of Ton. He had to take eight of these first thing in the day. That's what he jokingly referred to as 'breakfast'. Just like every other day, Ton went through the bottles from left to right and took a single pill out of each of them. One was white, one was yellow, one was gray… They all didn't taste particularly well. Ton stuffed them into his mouth and swallowed the pills. He wasn't even sure of what they did exactly. Their labels said things like 'Prevention of thyroid cancer', 'Prevention of leukemia' and so on. But Ton didn't trust these labels too much. He knew that most written words were made to deceive people.

After that, it was time for Ton's true breakfast. Just like every other meal, it consisted of a thick soy paste that Ton spooned into his mouth from a huge plastic jar. Although it always tasted the same, Ton never really grew tired of it. He had hardly eaten anything else in the last twelve years. To him, this dark red paste was like the definition of food. He vaguely remembered once eating some kind of fruit when he had been a child. But like all his childhood memories, he wasn't really sure whether it was genuine. It could have been something that he made up during his years of isolation.

When he didn't feel hungry anymore, Ton put down his spoon. Again, the only sound to be heard was the constant pa