"Misunderstanding! Total misunderstanding!"
Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto hastily let go, scrambling to explain.
"Gotcha!"
Sawa seized the moment, knocking both down in two swift moves.
"I win!"
Satoru and Suguru sprawled on the ground, glaring resentfully.
"That doesn't count! You ambushed us!"
Sawa shrugged. "The battlefield doesn't care about ambushes. If I were an enemy, you'd both be dead!"
"Don't act all serious with that lecture, c'mon!"
"What? You're not backing out, are you? No welching on the bet!"
Satoru and Suguru paled.
Suguru raised a shaky hand. "Uh… can we change the stake?"
"No way!"
Sawa crossed his arms in refusal, then smirked at Suguru's reluctant face.
"Suguru, fulfill the bet, and I'll sell you Playful Cloud cheap. Original price: ten billion yen. For you, half off!"
Suguru shot up. "A gentleman's word is his bond! Me, welch? Never! Satoru, you'd be ashamed to back out, right?"
Satoru: "…"
Fushitori Ward, department store.
Shoko Ieiri trailed Sawa, puzzled.
"Sawa, you said there's cool stuff here. The cosplay convention?"
Shoko eyed the anime characters milling about, wondering if she should snap a photo.
Sawa's lips curled. "Nope, something way cooler!"
Shoko blinked. "Sawa, you know your grin's super creepy right now?"
"…Is it?"
Shoko nodded firmly. "Like a total otaku peeping through a wall at a girl changing, camera in hand with bad intentions!"
"What kind of weird metaphor is that?"
Sawa's eye twitched, and he ruffled Shoko's hair. "Enough chatter. Bet you'll be just as bad as me soon!"
Shoko's face stayed apathetic, unconvinced.
Beyond smokes and booze, nothing sparked her interest.
"Wow!!!"
Suddenly, the crowd erupted in gasps.
Cosplayers, passersby, photographers, and normies swarmed forward.
At the center, two figures stood out.
Satoru Gojo, six-foot-three, and Suguru Geto, just over six feet, towered over the crowd's average five-foot-six.
But that wasn't the main attraction.
Their striking looks were perfect for cosplay.
One a white-haired catgirl maid, the other a black-haired catgirl maid, both drop-dead gorgeous with tall, slender frames and long, black-stockinged legs.
They charmed countless guys and girls alike.
"Hi, hi, can we get a photo?"
"I'm a photographer—mind a few shots?"
Satoru, a veteran of this chaos, handled it smoothly.
"No pushing, one at a time!"
"Holy—traps!"
"Guys? …Even hotter!"
"Husband… no, wife, wife!"
"This one's a guy, so this one…"
Suguru, new to the frenzy, fidgeted under the stares.
He raised a timid hand. "Um, I'm a guy too!"
"Hiss~"
The crowd gasped.
Female cosplayers felt a pang of inferiority.
One trap was bad enough, but two? No curves, yet their looks and aura outshone them.
What is this world? You guys be the women!
Satoru slung an arm around Suguru. "Relax! It's done, so just roll with it!"
With Satoru's lead, Suguru, self-hypnotized, started to let loose.
"One, two, three, cheese!"
Their smiles were dazzling, poses increasingly sassy.
Second floor.
"Pfft… hahahaha… those… those two… pffthahahaha…"
Shoko was losing it.
Sawa silently pulled out his magenta camera, capturing the moment.
"Suguru's blackmail secured!"
Shoko's brow shot up, and she whipped out her phone, snapping ten shots in a row.
Tokyo Jujutsu High, office.
Masamichi Yaga stared at Shoko's photos in silence.
Catgirl Satoru and Suguru posed flirtatiously, clearly having a blast.
Yaga sank into thought, wondering if his eyes were failing.
He glanced again—
Yup, definitely his eyes.
They'd been scorched blind!
"I'm old, too old to get young people's ideas!"