I’m done for. I have no clue what to do.
Yukieda’s still drinking—has she completely lost it?
At the very least, I need to get her clothes back on.
“Don’t… button it… so hot…”
Yukieda weakly pushed him away.
Like a rebellious teen, her already messy clothes now hung half-off her arms, revealing slender shoulders and a delicate collarbone.
Drinking causes trouble. Drinking causes trouble.
Those four words echoed in Mai’s mind.
Yukieda *needs* a lesson she won’t forget.
Mai made the decision silently.
Resigned, he sat stiffly in place while Yukieda clung to the sake bottle.
He was doomed.
Just then, the terminal on the table vibrated insistently.
He picked it up—unknown caller.
Hesitating, Mai answered.
Ms. Sakai’s voice came through, gentle as ever, radiating calm.
“Drinking and merry-making.”
*Screech!* The flimsy wooden door slid open again.
Shizuku and Mari swept the room with their eyes—no one there.
Strange. She’d sensed someone earlier, but the waiter kept blocking them, causing delay.
“See? Last room. Told you—I didn’t see her. A guest that stunning? I’d remember.”
The waiter wiped his brow with the towel on his shoulder, looking utterly drained.
“I *saw* Yukieda come in… Did I imagine it? Wait—I *am* nearsighted…”
Mari muttered, doubting herself. She *knew* she wasn’t wrong, yet Yukieda was gone.
“You’ve caused real trouble. All rooms checked. Please leave.”
“We’re short-staffed today.”
“I’m sorry! So sorry!”
Mari bowed repeatedly in the hallway.
“Alright, alright. You’re students—just go. I’ve got cleanup.”
Unlike the flustered Mari, Shizuku stroked her chin. Something felt off.
Steaming food. Scattered sake bottles. A meal abandoned mid-bite. Plus the waiter’s odd urgency to shoo them out.
His tone was firm, but his eyes kept darting away.
*He’s deliberately not looking into the room!*
“Hey! Miss, you—!” the waiter sputtered.
“Excuse me,” Shizuku murmured, stepping inside to inspect.
Mai listened to the commotion. Shizuku had no idea they were separated by just a thin wooden panel.
Behind the “Drinking and Merry-Making” scroll hid a cramped compartment—barely bigger than a girls’ changing booth.
Crammed inside: Mai, Yukieda, and the large sake bottle clutched to her chest.
To silence her squirming, Mai held her tight, palm pressed firmly over her mouth.
Incoherent, Yukieda struggled weakly. Her skirt rode up; hips ground slowly.
*Slurp, slurp, slurp.*
She was licking his palm—saliva soaking his hand. Mai ignored it, heart pounding, straining to hear beyond the wall.
*Please, Yukieda… don’t move. Your daughter’s right outside. You don’t want her seeing you like this—disheveled, glassy-eyed…*
Footsteps neared. Shizuku was examining the scroll.
Mai tensed—unaware Yukieda’s legs twitched, eyes rolling back.
“Found it!”
*Found what?*
Mai, Mari, and the waiter froze.
“This cup! The lipstick mark! I gave this to Yukieda—it’s hers!”
Mai exhaled. *Not the compartment.*
Then came arguing:
“Jumping to conclusions over lipstick? Go back to school—it’s class time!”
The waiter turned to Mari, voice pleading. “Talk sense into your friend. Stop causing trouble.”
“I’m sorry! So sorry!”
Mari apologized on loop, guilt and worry twisting inside.
The waiter covered his face.
Then—Shizuku plucked a long, silvery-white hair from the cushion.
“I *knew* I wasn’t mistaken!” Mari’s embarrassment vanished, replaced by fire.
The waiter gaped at the evidence, at Shizuku’s cold smirk. *A detective?*
Mai’s throat tightened again.
“I suspect… does your shop have a secret passage?”
The waiter looked away. “Impossible! You think we sell to minors?”
“How do you explain *this* hair?”
Emboldened, Mari stood on tiptoe. “You lied! You said you knew nothing!”
“F-for… guest privacy…”
“So you *admit* it! Where’s the passage?!”
“Th-this… um…”
Shizuku pressed. The waiter yelped, yanked the door open, and bolted.
“Hey! You—!”
Mai heard Shizuku and Mari chase after him.
His grip loosened. Yukieda slumped, face buried in his pants.
The scroll swung open. They were exposed. The sake bottle rolled *clack-clack* to the table’s edge.
His arms went numb—like a TV screen full of static snow.
“Sake…” Yukieda mumbled, skirt hiked, oblivious.
Fear curdled into anger. *Time for Yukieda to learn: drinking causes trouble.*
An idea sparked.
Mai pinched her inner thigh—hard.
A whimper. A bright red mark bloomed on pale skin.
He bit his finger, smeared blood nearby.
*Hmph. Heh heh.*
*Evil mastermind.*
*Just wait for them to leave… then take Yukieda home.*
But was it that simple?
Finding nothing, Shizuku and Mari turned to leave the strange izakaya.
Then—thugs stormed the first floor. Leather jackets studded black. Real societal delinquents.
A foul-smelling one pointed. “Boss! It’s her!”
The leader gagged. “You shoved my brother into a gutter?!”
Patrons fled the stench and menace.
Shizuku bowed slightly. “I was wrong. Let’s go.” She squeezed Mari’s trembling hand.
The thugs blocked the exit, grinning.
“An apology? My brother reeks of *exotic fragrance*! Humiliated!”
“Yeah!”
“Don’t get near me!” the boss snapped at his lackey.
“What do you want? One thousand credit points?”
Still unsatisfied. Their eyes kept drifting *behind* Shizuku.
“Think credits make you special? Insulting my brothers!” He signaled his lackeys forward.
“Stop.”
The boss smirked, glancing past the girls.
An angry voice cut through. A vividly dressed woman stepped out—Ms. Sakai, the proprietress.
