Raito moved swiftly through the backstage corridors, slipping into staff-only areas with practiced ease. Though the echo of chaos still buzzed behind him, his mind had already shifted to damage control. The crowd would disperse, the noise would fade—but the cut on the mascot suit? That would raise questions.
He found an unoccupied break room, locked the door behind him, and wasted no time stripping off the oversized Kawai Kitty head. A wave of hot, stale air rushed out with it. His chest was bare, glistening faintly with sweat from the heat and the fight. He hadn't worn a shirt underneath—just the suit and his resolve.
He checked himself quickly. No injuries. No bruises. Just the lingering hum of exertion and the faint ache in his shoulders.
The voice box didn't fare so well. He pulled the cracked device from the suit's inner lining. Wires sparked and fizzled, and the once-chirpy tone was now replaced with faint static and the occasional sad ny—zzzt.
"Tch. Didn't even hit me," he muttered, tossing it on the table.
Kurai's voice echoed through his mind, equal parts amused and smug."That little speech to the girl? Aww. You do have a heart. Or maybe a weakness?"
Raito didn't look up. "I just said what came to mind and it was because of Kawai Kitty and nothing more."
"And called her a spoiled brat right after. Real smooth."
"She needed to hear it."
He found the emergency sewing kit tucked in a drawer and laid the mascot suit across the table. The tear was ugly—a diagonal slash across the side—but fixable. He got to work, bare arms flexing slightly as he threaded the needle and began to stitch, focused and unbothered.
The door creaked open behind him.
"Hey, we just wanted to check—"
One staff woman poked her head in, stopped mid-sentence. Her eyes went wide.
The second one leaned in behind her and immediately froze.
There was Raito: shirtless, damp with sweat, calmly sewing a giant pink Kawai Kitty mascot with the intensity of a battlefield surgeon. The whole sight looked absurd—and weirdly cinematic.
A pink blush bloomed on both women's faces.
The door shut immediately.
"Take all the time you need!!" came the flustered voice from behind it, followed by a chorus of nervous giggles as their footsteps retreated down the hall.
Raito didn't even blink. He tied off the thread, gave the patch a testing tug, and nodded to himself.
No one could know what happened in that hallway.
The costume had to be perfect.
The con wasn't over yet.