My phone is vibrating in my pocket with the furious energy of a thousand trapped hornets. The Team Rui chat is undoubtedly reaching critical mass, demanding answers, deploying countermeasures, possibly ordering tactical strikes. But I cannot look. I am frozen, my brain still trying to process Ichigo's parting shot: "nostalgic for the quiet solitude of a cybercafe, does it not?"
He knows. He knows about Izumi. Which means… he is Izumi? Or he knows her intimately? Or he hacked my cybercafe account and possibly my brainwaves?! The possibilities are all equally terrifying.
Before I can formulate a coherent thought, let alone an escape plan, Ichigo reappears. He seems to materialize out of the thinning crowd like a particularly charming phantom, his Zero mask doing nothing to hide the amused smirk in his voice.
"Ah, Rui-kun," he says smoothly, stopping directly in front of me, effectively blocking my path. "Forgot to give you my contact info for that dinner. Silly me." He is definitely messing with me.
"Uh, that is okay," I stammer, desperately trying to project an aura of 'I am not panicking, you are panicking.' "I am probably busy anyway. Lots of… handler things."
"Nonsense," Ichigo dismisses with a wave of his gloved hand. He takes a step closer. And another. Suddenly, my back hits the hard, temporary wall of Rina's booth display (which feels suspiciously solid, Miki probably reinforced it). Ichigo places one hand on the wall next to my head, leaning in slightly.
Kabedon.
He is actually doing a kabedon. On me. While dressed as Zero from Code Geass. In the middle of a crowded convention hall. My brain short-circuits. Again. This feels like a scene from a terrible fanfiction.
The surrounding area goes utterly, completely silent. The few remaining fans, the booth staff, everyone within a twenty-foot radius just freezes, staring with wide, disbelieving eyes. Phones are instantly whipped out, cameras flashing. I can practically hear the internet exploding.
Ichigo leans in closer, his masked face just inches from mine. I can see the intricate details of the mask, smell the faint, pleasant scent of his (probably expensive) cosplay sealant. His visible eye glints with mischief.
"You know, Rui-kun," he murmurs, his voice low and conspiratorial, sending a ridiculous shiver down my spine. "We make a pretty good team. Don't you think? Maybe we teamed up recently? In another world, perhaps?" He taps the wall near my head meaningfully. "We should explore that… synergy. Further."
My mind flashes back to the cybercafe. Izumi. 'We make a good team.' The Gorge of Eternal Weeping. It is him. Izumi is Ichigo. The realization hits me with the force of a physical blow, leaving me breathless and utterly terrified. He is not just messing with me; he is confirming everything, right here, right now, in the most dramatic, public way possible.
Before I can respond, before my brain can even process the implications of this revelation, a sound rips through the stunned silence. It is a sound somewhere between a boiling kettle, a dying banshee, and a small thermonuclear explosion.
"GET! AWAY! FROM! MY! ONII-CHAN!"
Rina, her Ice Phoenix costume practically radiating waves of pure, incandescent fury, launches herself across the aisle like a heat-seeking missile. Haruka is right behind her, her Snow Wraith expression colder and sharper than any icicle. And even Aiwa, looking utterly horrified but surprisingly determined, is scrambling out from behind her booth.
Ichigo just chuckles softly, completely unfazed by the approaching storm of female fury. He pushes himself off the wall, giving me one last, infuriatingly charming smirk. "Duty calls," he whispers, before turning smoothly to face the onslaught, striking a perfect, dramatic Zero pose.
"Ladies," he greets them calmly, as if being accosted by three furious cosplay goddesses is just a normal Tuesday afternoon. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Rina looks ready to vaporize him. Haruka looks ready to dissect him. Aiwa looks like she might faint again, but is determined not to. The crowd gasps, cameras flashing wildly.
My life has officially devolved into a live-action harem anime, and I am the bewildered protagonist who somehow keeps tripping into increasingly dramatic and potentially violent situations. This cannot possibly end well.