Nijika Ijichi frowned, confused by the scene before her.
"What's that guy doing? That girl looks really uncomfortable."
A confident, almost unnervingly wise smile played on Ryo Yamada's lips.
"Based on my experience, that's sexual harassment."
"Sexual harassment?"
"Correct. Look at his lecherous grin and her clear reluctance. What else could it be?"
Nijika hesitated. "But if it's harassment, why doesn't she just leave or call for help?"
Ryo cupped her chin, analyzing. "In my experience, there are probably two reasons."
Nijika wondered, not for the first time, where exactly Ryo had gathered this 'experience,' but she decided to hear her out first.
"The first reason is blackmail. Maybe he has compromising photos or knows she did something bad. She puts up with it to keep her secret. The second reason..." Ryo paused for dramatic effect, her tone definitive. "It's definitely about money."
"Money?"
Seeing Nijika's naive expression, Ryo shook her head. "You really don't get it, do you? That kind of transaction. She's resisting because the price isn't right."
Nijika's face flushed bright red. "Ryo! That's horrible! You can't assume everyone is like you when it comes to money! That girl would never..."
She stole another glance at Masao and Hitori Gotoh, and what she saw stunned her into silence.
Hitori was pulling a wad of bills from her wallet, pressing them into Masao's hands with a pleading, 'please-just-let-me-go' look. Masao wore an expression of firm refusal.
Suddenly, Ryo's outrageous theory didn't seem so impossible.
Ryo pouted, offended. "What do you mean, 'like me'? I like money, but I have principles. I'm not a pushover. To get me to compromise, you'd need to offer a lot of money... and be a handsome guy I like. Some guy who looks like a total otaku? Not a chance."
Seeing Ryo cross her arms, Nijika quickly backtracked. "Alright, my mistake. We should go see what's really happening. We can't let her fall into... into something bad."
Ryo looked over at Hitori again and nodded. "True. It's a shame to imagine a cute girl like that being... misused."
Meanwhile, with Masao and Hitori...
Despite Masao's persistent encouragement, Hitori couldn't bring herself to agree to perform in public. In a desperate bid to be left alone, she was trying to pay him off.
Masao wasn't having it. This money was no substitute for a performance, and he wasn't a monster. If she refused a public stage, they'd just find a quiet, secluded spot.
Just as Nijika and Ryo approached, they heard Masao say, with an enthusiastic grin, "We'll just find a quiet, out-of-the-way spot. You'd better give it your all, okay?"
Hearing this, Nijika's sense of justice flared.
"What are you doing to her?!" She swooped in, pulling a bewildered Hitori behind her.
Ryo chimed in. "You're the worst."
Masao stared at the two sudden interlopers and his now-separated friend, baffled. Was this the "You're-The-Worst" Duo?
Hitori was even more confused.
'Huh? What's happening? I was just talking to Masao... Why am I being pulled away? Is this a kidnapping? In broad daylight? They'll sell me and make me work in a factory 24/7... I can't live like that!'
"Help me, Masao...!" With her last ounce of courage, Hitori stretched a trembling hand toward him.
Seeing Hitori—his friend Bocchi-chan—looking so helpless, like a princess captured by a villain, Masao stood tall.
"Give Bocchi-chan back!"
Nijika's heart sank. 'Oh no. I'm the bad guy.'
——
Two and a half minutes later, a mortified Nijika Ijichi bowed deeply. "I am so sorry for misunderstanding you!"
With Hitori by his side, Masao had quickly figured out who these two were: the angel of Shimokitazawa, Nijika, and the eccentric Ryo Yamada.
Faced with Nijika's apology, Masao saw an opening. He waved a hand, his expression a mix of resignation and practiced melancholy.
"It's fine. I know I don't have the most... friendly face. People think I'm a creep all the time. I'm used to it." He was rather proud of his acting.
'Perfect. She'll feel guilty for weeks.'
To sell it, he covered his face with his hand, turned away slightly, and let his shoulders shake as if he were crying.
The effect was instant. Nijika's guilt surged.
'I'm terrible. I judged him by his looks and hurt a good person.' Being yelled at would have been easier than this quiet sorrow. 'I have to make this right. No matter what.'
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