The air conditioning inside the Comic Convention venue was strong, but it still couldn’t suppress the heat generated by thousands of excited otaku.
As time passed, the atmosphere gradually became stuffy and sticky, mixed together with the smells of sweat, cosmetics, and various snacks.
Fujiwara Ai led the “three tails” behind him and finally squeezed into a relatively empty resting area.
He suddenly felt it becoming hard to breathe.
Wearing both a mask and a hat inside this kind of environment was practically torture.
Sweat slid down along his sideburns, and that sticky sensation pushed his slight germaphobia close to its limit.
“Phew…”
Fujiwara Ai glanced around before confirming that no photographers were currently aiming their cameras toward them.
Only then did he raise his hand, remove the baseball cap, and casually fan himself with it.
His black hair had become slightly messy from sweat and clung lightly against his forehead, but instead of lowering his appearance, it added a trace of wild and unruly charm.
Then his hand moved toward the mask hanging around his ears.
“Ugh…
too stuffy.”
He complained softly before finally removing the mask completely.
At that instant, the air around the entire resting area seemed to freeze for a second.
Goto Hitori, who had been silently following behind like a tiny tail, happened to raise her head and secretly glance toward him at that exact moment.
Then she completely froze.
Is this…
what Fujiwara san looks like now?
Although she had already seen him before inside STARRY, today’s Fujiwara Ai somehow felt entirely different.
Without him noticing, the final missing piece needed for the [Shuraba at the Convention] mission had already silently completed itself.
The system hadn’t even given Fujiwara Ai enough time to adapt.
The “qualitative evolution” after breaking through 80 points of charisma fully revealed itself at this moment.
That face looked as perfect as the male protagonist painted by some legendary artist.
His nose bridge was high and elegant, his lips thin and slightly pressed together, while those deep black eyes lazily narrowed with traces of impatience.
Especially that single bead of sweat slowly sliding down along his jawline, crossing his pale skin before disappearing beneath his slightly open collar.
*Gulp.*
Bocchi subconsciously swallowed hard.
‘S so handsome…’
‘No no no!
This isn’t normal handsome anymore!
This is the kind…
the kind that could make someone pregnant just by looking at him…
ah no!
The kind that makes your heart stop from one glance!’
‘Just a few days ago he was already a cool handsome guy, so why does he feel…
even more dangerously charming now…?’
‘Ugh…
I don’t dare look…
but I really want to keep looking…’
The redness spread visibly across her body from the base of her neck all the way toward her ears.
Her entire body looked as though it was steaming like a freshly cooked pink shrimp.
Fujiwara Ai noticed that overly intense and flustered stare.
He turned his head and directly met Bocchi’s eyes before she could look away in time.
“Hm?”
Fujiwara Ai slightly raised an eyebrow.
Why was this girl trembling so badly?
And why was her face red enough to look like it might explode?
Could it be…
That his earlier threat had genuinely traumatized her?
After all, for someone with social anxiety this severe, being thrown into a crowd probably felt no different than a death sentence.
Fujiwara Ai sighed inwardly.
Although he only wanted to correct the way she addressed him, it did seem somewhat excessive in hindsight.
As a friend, maybe he should comfort her a little.
Without saying anything, he casually walked forward in two large steps until he stood directly in front of Bocchi.
“Eeeek!!”
Seeing that overwhelmingly handsome face suddenly approach her, Bocchi nearly threw away her guitar bag from sheer panic.
Her heartbeat accelerated so violently it felt ready to burst through her chest.
‘He’s coming!
He’s walking over!’
‘Fujiwara san is coming toward me!’
‘Is he going to scold me?
Is it because he caught me peeking?
Uuuugh I didn’t mean to…’
Just as she squeezed her eyes shut and prepared herself for judgment.
A hand gently landed atop her head.
That hand felt slender and strong, with slightly cool fingertips softly rubbing through her pink hair.
The movement wasn’t especially gentle.
It resembled someone casually petting a cat.
“Stop trembling.”
Fujiwara Ai’s voice sounded above her head, carrying traces of helplessness.
“I was only scaring you earlier.”
“As long as you stop calling me weird names, I won’t throw you away.”
Time itself seemed to freeze at this moment.
Bocchi slowly opened her eyes.
The warmth on top of her head was real.
Those words were also real. Find the original chapter at g.com.
‘I won’t throw you away…’
‘Won’t abandon me…’
Those words endlessly echoed inside her head before eventually being processed by her socially broken brain into a completely different meaning.
I will keep you forever.
BOOM!!!
It felt as though an atomic bomb exploded directly inside Bocchi’s brain.
Her entire world instantly turned pink.
Her chaotic thoughts immediately spiraled wildly out of control.
The scene inside her imagination suddenly shifted.
A beautiful church bathed in sunlight appeared before her.
Fujiwara san stood at the end of the red carpet wearing an elegant white suit while smiling gently and extending his hand toward her.
Meanwhile she herself wore a pure white wedding dress while shyly placing her hand into his palm.
The priest solemnly asked:
“Goto Hitori, do you take Fujiwara Ai to be your husband?
Whether in poverty or wealth, whether socially anxious or introverted, will you forever stay beside him and become his exclusive guitarist?”
Fujiwara san gazed at her tenderly before softly whispering:
“Don’t be afraid.
As long as I’m here, you won’t need to face those terrifying crowds anymore.
From now on, you’ll only play guitar for me.”
Then he lowered his head and kissed her.
“Aaaaaaaah!!!”
Back in reality, Bocchi suddenly let out a strange scream that no longer resembled human language.
Fujiwara Ai: “…”
Her face had become so red it practically surpassed the limits of physics and started glowing.
Immediately afterward, her body violently trembled.
Her clear outline gradually blurred and distorted before finally transforming into a writhing mass of pink mosaic pixels right in front of everyone.
*Pshhhhh.*
Like an overheated steam engine, white smoke burst out from the top of the pink mosaic mass.
“Bocchi chan?!”
Fujiwara Ai withdrew his hand while staring at the indescribable object before him with visible shock.
Is this some new skill?
A physical collapse?
“Did she…
faint?”
Marin curiously leaned over and poked the pink mosaic with her finger.
It felt surprisingly soft and bouncy.
“So cool!
Is this some new type of cosplay?
A slime monster?”
“No…
I think she simply overheated and crashed.”
Fujiwara Ai calmly analyzed the situation.
It seemed that 80 charisma points combined with a head pat created overwhelmingly lethal effects against an innocent socially anxious creature like Bocchi.
Meanwhile Yotsuya Miko, who stood nearby, stared toward the pink mosaic with an extremely complicated expression.
Was she jealous?
Of course she was.
Fujiwara Ai actually patted another girl’s head.
But at the same time, seeing this pink-haired girl completely lose human form just from simple flirting unexpectedly filled her heart with a strange sense of superiority.
‘Hmph.
Weakling.’
‘She completely broke down from just a head pat.’
‘I’ve already done far more dangerous things with Ai kun and I still haven’t collapsed.’
‘As expected, only I can properly withstand Ai kun’s charm.’
Thinking that, Miko proudly puffed out her chest before stepping forward and naturally grabbing the hand Fujiwara Ai had just withdrawn.
“Should we take her to the infirmary first?
Bocchi doesn’t seem mentally stable right now.”
Fujiwara Ai looked down toward the pink slime lying on the ground before glancing at the growing crowd beginning to point and whisper nearby.
Then he sighed helplessly.
“Seems like we have no choice.”
He bent down slightly, intending to help the pink blob stand up.
But the instant his hand touched it, the mosaic suddenly emitted an extremely faint sleep talking voice.
“Hehe…
marriage…
hehe…
what should we name the child…
Goto Number Two…”
Fujiwara Ai: “…”
This child is beyond saving.
Might as well bury her already.
Right then, a familiar voice suddenly sounded nearby.
“Um…
that’s my band member.”
Fujiwara Ai raised his head.
However, her signature short blue hair instantly revealed her identity.
Yamada Ryo.
She calmly chewed her food while sizing up Bocchi’s melted form lying on the ground.
“I wondered why she disappeared.
Turns out she dissolved over here.”
Her tone remained perfectly flat, as though she had already witnessed this scene countless times before.
“Ryo?”
Fujiwara Ai looked slightly surprised.
“You actually came to the Comic Convention too?”
“Yeah.
Came with Bocchi.
Also gathering inspiration.”
Ryo casually pushed up her sunglasses before pointing toward the takoyaki in her hand.
“And collecting free food.”
She glanced toward Fujiwara Ai before shifting her eyes toward the two girls beside him.
Then her lips curled slightly upward.
“Looks like you’re pretty popular, Mr.
Loan Shark.”
“I don’t lend money.”
Fujiwara Ai corrected immediately.
“Tsk.
Stingy.”
Ryo shrugged before crouching down and grabbing Bocchi’s guitar bag strap.
“Alright, leave this one to me.
We need to head over for rehearsal anyway, though she’s probably too broken to play guitar right now.”
While speaking, she casually dragged the giggling pink mosaic away like a garbage bag.
“Come on, Bocchi.
If you don’t wake up soon, I’ll sell your guitar for cash.”
Those words worked like magic.
The pink mosaic instantly froze before rapidly restoring itself back into human form at terrifying speed.
Although her face remained bright red, clarity immediately returned to her eyes.
“No!
Don’t sell my guitar!
I’m awake!
Fully awake!”
Bocchi screamed while scrambling upright and tightly hugging her guitar bag, terrified that the Scummy Bassist would really sell it.
Watching the scene unfold, Fujiwara Ai couldn’t help shaking his head slightly.
This really was a world filled with every type of weirdo imaginable.
“Th that…
Fujiwara san!”
Before leaving, Bocchi suddenly turned around and desperately gathered her courage to shout.
“Th thank you for the water!
And…
and for earlier too…”
Her eyes briefly drifted toward the hand that had patted her head, causing her face to instantly redden again.
“Um…
see you next time!”
After saying that, she fled into the crowd like a startled rabbit while being dragged away by Ryo.
Having finally removed the largest uncontrollable factor from the group, Fujiwara Ai quietly let out a small sigh of relief.
But he knew the true trouble was only beginning now.
He slowly turned toward the two girls beside him.
Marin still curiously stared toward the direction Bocchi disappeared, apparently fascinated by the earlier “mosaic transformation.”
Meanwhile Miko quietly stared at the hand Fujiwara Ai used to pat Bocchi earlier.
Her eyes looked dark and gloomy.
“Ai kun.”
She softly called out.
“Your hand got dirty.”
“Let me clean it for you, okay?”
While speaking, she calmly took out a wet wipe from her pocket before grabbing Fujiwara Ai’s hand without allowing any resistance and carefully wiping each finger one by one.
Her movements were slow and meticulous.
Rather than cleaning his hand, it looked more like she was erasing every trace of another girl’s scent before replacing it with her own.
Fujiwara Ai quietly watched her focused side profile while feeling the cool sensation on his fingertips, but he didn’t pull his hand away.
As long as she didn’t bite him again, this level of possessiveness remained acceptable.
“Finished?”
He finally asked after a while.
“Mhm.
Clean now.”
Miko raised her head and revealed a satisfied smile.
“Now this hand belongs to me again.”
Fujiwara Ai: “…”
Fine.
Whatever you say.
“Let’s go to the photography area!”
Marin finally recovered from her daze before excitedly grabbing Fujiwara Ai’s other sleeve.
“If we don’t hurry, that photographer might leave!”