For her new plan, (Y/N) employed Oko's help. Telling the woman about her feelings was risky, but (Y/N) trusted her, and Mortal Hell did have a lot of nice clothes.

So there (Y/N) stood in front of the mirror in Oko's dorm room, watching as her friend tied the obi snug around her waist.

"Are you sure he'll fall for this?" Oko asked. "I know Hozuki is...a little odd, but this?"

"I think you're overestimating Hozuki," (Y/N) replied as she stared at her reflection.

What she wore wasn't a goldfish costume, but it was close. She was dressed in a white and orange scale-print kimono. Her obi was red, with a sheer red tail coming out the back. The sleeves draped into lacy fins, and on her head sat a goldfish pin.

Oko sighed, and stepped back. "Well, regardless of whether or not it's fish-themed, you look lovely."

(Y/N) smiled, turning around.

"Sure..." she mumbled, tugging at her neckline, "but, Oko, isn't this a little low?"

Oko chuckled. "Of course not! When a lady is in love, she needs to take risks. Or at least, that's what I believe."

"Yeah, but this isn't really...me."

Oko put her hands on (Y/N)'s shoulders. "That's why it's necessary. It's unexpected. Now it's almost time to leave. I expect a full report, of course!"

"Oko!"

Before she could protest, the blue-haired oni pushed her out the door, and shut it in her face, all the while with a pure, innocent smile.

"She's the devil," (Y/N) muttered, tugging at her neckline. "This is seriously ridiculous. I'm not letting anyone see me like this."

She hurried to her room, and threw on a red coat. It covered most of her kimono, but there was no time to find anything else.

"Okay," she whispered to her reflection in the mirror. "Time for battle."

This was a bad idea. This was a really bad idea.

(Y/N) stood by the door to the backstage, pass in hand, yet she couldn't convince herself to go inside. What if someone asked what she was doing there and she panicked? What if she lost the pass? What if the person who confronted her was mean and didn't accept the pass? What if Hozuki for some reason gave her a fake one? She knew these thoughts were ridiculous, but they wouldn't stop.

The door opened. (Y/N) screamed, and scrambled backwards, tripping over a step and falling to the ground

"Are you all right?"

She opened her eyes. Hozuki stood in the doorway, no doubt laughing internally at her clumsiness.

"I—I'm fine. Yeah," she mumbled, crawling to her feet. "What—what're you doing here?"

"I hadn't seen you," he replied, "so I assumed I'd find you hesitating in front of the door. It seems I was correct."

(Y/N) chuckled. "Yeah..."

Hozuki sighed, holding the door open for her. "In any case, come inside. I'll introduce you to this year's winner."

(Y/N) stepped through the door, and followed him through the backstage. It was hot and smelled of mothballs and sweat.

"Were you there before the show?" Hozuki asked. "I would have come to get you, but I was busy with preparations."

(Y/N) shook her head. "No. I...had things to do, so I couldn't make it before the show..."

Not exactly a lie, but the reason I got ready so late was because I heard horror stories from Karauri and Nasubi about having to wear goldfish costumes and advertise. I could never handle that.

(Y/N) sighed, and slipped off her coat, only to notice Hozuki stiffen.

She'd completely forgotten about what she was wearing underneath.

(Y/N) looked down, and froze for a second before raising her hands to cover her chest.

"I—Oko said I should wear it," she stammered.

She glanced at his face, noting his open-mouthed expression.

"It—it looks weird, doesn't it?" she mumbled.

She ducked her head. She didn't know why, but she felt like she was about to cry.

Hozuki raised a hand, and gently cupped her cheek, turning her face up. She felt herself flush red, and tried to hide her face again, but he wouldn't let her.

His fingers brushed her cheekbone as he slowly brushed her hair behind her ear. Then he patted her head before pulling his hand back.

"Your hair is coming undone."

"What?"

He turned his back to her, and she immediately raised her hands to her cheeks, slapping them like her life depended on it.

What was that?

He continued leading her to the stage, where the winning goldfish was displayed. (Y/N) raised a fist, seriously contemplating punching him when he spoke, back still turned.

"I'm free Sunday."

(Y/N) tilted her head. "Huh?"

"You told me you've never been to Shangri-La. I'll take you Sunday. Just don't go with that damned beast."