The clown-faced gyaru and her posse froze, their smug expressions morphing into shock as their so-called muscle hit the pavement like sacks of rice.
The buzzcut thug clutched his jaw as he groaned while the leather-jacket guy scrambled to his feet, his face a mix of embarrassment and rage.
The crowd around us gasped. Once the surprise passed, many of them reached for their phones, capturing the moment like vultures circling a fresh kill.
“W-what the hell?!” The clown-faced gyaru eventually squeaked. Her voice cracked as she stutteringly took a step back. Her earlier courage melted faster than her caked-on foundation. Her two friends clung to each other, wide-eyed, suddenly realizing their backup wasn’t as invincible as they’d thought.
I dusted off my hands, keeping my stance loose but ready in case the thugs decided to try round two.
“I told you to wait in line,” I calmly said as though I didn’t just knock down the two thugs with them. “Now, how about you apologize to the girls and we call it a day?”
The clown-faced gyaru stared at me with a horrified yet still indignant expression. Right. This was how they were usually. Even if they knew they had already lost, they still would refuse to give up. They would stand their ground as if it were the last thing they needed to do just to protect their pride.
As if she didn’t want to miss a chance to rub it in, An-rin stepped forward with a grin that could’ve lit up the night sky above us. “Ooh, clown girl, you picked the wrong group to mess with! Onoda-han’s got his moves and he ain’t scared of your discount goons!”
Chii reached out for my sleeve again and let out a small huff. Her steely glare softened into something closer to pride as she looked at me. “Kii, you didn’t have to go that far.”
Despite saying that, her lips twitched upward, showing her amusement.
Meanwhile, Kushii crossed her arms, her dark eyes focusing over the rival gyaru group with a look that screamed ‘you were not worth our time’.
Her lips curved into a faint sinister smile, like she was daring them to try something else.
The buzzcut thug staggered to his feet. He rubbed his jaw as it continued to ache. His defiant gaze earlier had already been subdued. I doubt he’d still rage after getting hit squarely on the jaw. If he’s not careful, another jab might send him to sleep. On the other hand, his buddy in the leather jacket hesitated, glancing between me and the growing crowd. Since he’s not hit in his jaw, he’s pretty much still boiling in rage at my audacity. However, he was quite conscious of their situation. He realized they were one bad move away from becoming a viral meme.
Visibly shaken, the clown-faced gyaru opened her mouth, then closed it again as she looked to her friends for support.
They offered none, of course. They were too busy trying to shrink into the background while stealing glances my way.
Yep. Charmed.
Finally, she managed a weak, “Tch, whatever. This place is lame anyway.”
She flipped her hair, acting like she hadn’t been trembling a second ago. A pathetic attempt to save her caked-on face. She turned to leave and her posse reluctantly trailed behind her.
“Yo, that’s it? No sorry?” With hands on her hips, An-rin called after them, “Weak! Come back when you learn how to throw shade and punch!”
The thugs slunk off after the girls, the leather jacket dude tried to act intimidating again, only to be spooked by my gaze, while the buzzcut avoided eye contact with anyone. Their tough-guy act reduced to a sad shuffle.
The crowd started dispersing, some murmuring excitedly, others already tapping away at their phones, no doubt uploading the drama to their social media.
The crepe stall employee, who’d been watching the whole thing like it was a live-action soap opera, finally spoke up. “Uh, you guys are still ordering, or…?”
I turned to him with a grin, slinging the prop bag higher on my shoulder. “Yes, please. I’m starving after that. Let’s get those crepes. Strawberry and whipped cream for Kushii, right?”
I glanced at the girl behind and she nodded, her small smile growing a bit warmer.
“Matcha and red beans for me!” An-rin chimed in, her energy already bouncing back to its usual chaotic level. “Gotta fuel up after that showdown!”
“Yeah. Right. You’re so great, An-rin. You knocked them down.”
“Hey! I’m, like, your frontman, Onoda-han.” She grinned and nudged my shoulder.
Chii leaned into my side, her arm looping through mine again. “Show-off, Kii,”
Despite her teasing, she leaned in closer and whispered, “Thanks for handling that. Those girls were annoying.”
“Anytime,” I said, giving her a sidelong wink. “I can’t let some wannabe gyaru ruin our sleepover prep, right? Besides, I believe they’re just jealous of you. You look great even with minimal makeup. I bet they’ll faint if they see you without it. You’re even more gorgeous that way.”
“Oh. Stop it.” Chii weakly hit my chest but the next move she did drew more gasps from the crowd around us. She moved to my front and hugged me tightly, her head burrowing into my chest.
I responded in kind, wrapping her in my embrace.
An-rin whistled teasingly while Kushii just stared at us.
As the crepe store employee, the sweet scent of batter and whipped cream filled the air again, washing away the lingering tension.
The bright lights of the shopping district buzzed overhead as the crowd flowed around us, the chaos of the moment already fading into just another story to laugh about later.
“Alright, girls,” I said, handing out the crepes as they came up. “Eat fast. We still have props to buy. In case I’m not able to carry all of them, An-rin, you’re on bag duty.”
An-rin stuck out her tongue, already halfway through her crepe. “No way, Onoda-han! You’re the muscle and the chef tonight. Don’t slack on us!”
Kushii let out a rare giggle, and Chii rolled her eyes as she stepped out of my embrace.
We sat down on the bench next to the store and rested our feet while eating.
Once that was done, we continued on our objective.
As we walked, we went over the list they created for the essential props to procure. And after a back and forth on where to buy them, we stopped at a thrift store, selling all kinds of goods.
The thrift store was definitely a treasure trove if you knew what you were looking for. Shelves were overflowing with mismatched trinkets, vintage clothes, and random knick-knacks that looked like they’d been forgotten since the dawn of time. But considering the script and the theme of our written scenarios for the interactive adventure booth, they’re perfect.
The place was quite old, so the deeper you went in, the thicker the dust settled in the air. It even smelled like mothballs and old leather, but the girls didn’t seem to mind. Their eyes lit up like they’d just stumbled into a gold mine.
An-rin darted straight for a rack of gaudy accessories, pulling out a pair of oversized hoop earrings that could’ve doubled as bracelets. Who wears those?
“Yo, Onoda-han, check these out! Perfect for our skit, right? I’m, like, totally channeling diva energy!”
I raised an eyebrow, “Diva energy, huh? You sure you’re not just trying to blind us with those things? They’re reflective enough to signal aliens.”
The girl cackled as she tossed the earrings into the basket without a second thought. “That’s the point! Gotta shine brighter than clown-face back there!”
After saying that, she dashed away, finding another pile to dig in.
I guess we’ll be staying here for a while.
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