Sebastian pushed the door open to find Iori and the two seniors rummaging through his room.
"Tch — it's so clean in here. Nothing to use against him...."
Iori was crouched on the floor with his back to Sebastian, muttering through gritted teeth.
Sebastian watched the three of them moving their hands toward the pillow where he'd hidden the Ocean Gem — and in a moment of panic called out sharply:
"Hey! What do you think you're doing?"
All three pairs of shoulders flinched at the sound of his voice.
Iori turned around, face flushed with indignation, and shouted back:
"You sneaky rat — who said you could come in?"
"It's my room — why wouldn't I come in? And how do people who go through someone else's belongings have the nerve to call me sneaky?!"
Sebastian pushed forward and set about making Iori regret his life choices with both fists.
While Sebastian had Iori thoroughly apologizing for his existence, Imamura came back through the door — loaded down with bags of various sizes, a roll of heavy tape looped around his neck.
He kicked the door open, looked at the two tangled up on the floor, and called out cheerfully:
"Still at it, are we."
"Imamura — come punish this scoundrel!" Iori appealed from beneath Sebastian's grip.
"Hmph. You two children carry on. I, meanwhile, am about to create a masterpiece."
Imamura gave a dismissive smile, set down the bags he'd brought back, and got to work.
"You made it back that quickly — impressive. What's in all these bags?"
Kotobuki wandered over and crouched down to look through the contents.
"Things I treat as dearer than my own life."
Imamura said this, drew a slow breath, and spread his hands with an expression of deep reverence.
"What kind of things? Do you have to be so dramatic about it?"
Curiosity piqued, Sebastian released Iori and went over to pick up one of the bags.
"Fairly heavy.... What is this?"
Sebastian pulled out a palm-sized clay figure — a little girl waving a pink fairy wand.
Something to do with Magical Girl Lalaco, apparently.
He turned the figure over in his hands, and something came to mind. He smirked.
"Hey, Angel — it would be nice if you were even half as cute as this."
The next instant, he snapped his hand up to cover his neck — and caught Angel's invisible hands closing in from the void just in time.
This time, however, the stubborn little goddess was strangely quiet, instead of launching into her usual tirade.
"Since when are you this well-behaved?"
Sebastian, unused to the absence of abuse, found it puzzling. He tested the water:
"Did you die?"
"You absolute — do you have any idea what I had to sit through this morning?! You depraved, shameless creature who has defiled my pure and innocent eyes!"
Like a dam finally giving way, Angel's long-overdue string of insults came pouring through both ears at once.
"This morning? Oh, the photobooks — it's fine. Doesn't it suit your image perfectly, you little voyeur goddess who's always peeking in on people? If you're interested, when I eventually ascend to the heavenly realm I'll bring you a few copies."
"Infuriating infuriating infuriating infuriating...."
Angel's stream of muttered curses was cheerfully filtered out to the back of Sebastian's mind.
Deeply satisfying.
In high spirits, Sebastian turned to look at where Imamura was busy at work.
In the short time since he'd come back, the man had singlehandedly covered three walls in large-format anime posters. The work rate was genuinely impressive.
The few pieces of furniture Sebastian's room contained had each been carefully wiped clean and arranged with figures of various sizes.
The mobilization speed of a dedicated shut-in, Sebastian thought, was genuinely something to behold.
Iori, meanwhile, had long since gotten off the floor. He was now crouching beside Imamura with intense curiosity, watching him calibrate the exact spacing between each figure.
"Hey, Imamura — this one's called Miracu, right? I remember she was pretty popular with kids a while back."
Imamura kept working with a dark expression and said nothing.
"He really does have impressive restraint — not beating Iori to death on the spot shows genuine upbringing."
Sebastian stood to one side and observed the scene with quiet admiration.
"So Sebastian actually knows this stuff?" The two seniors came to stand beside him, arms folded, having caught his remark.
"Not really — it's just that someone I knew before, in my previous — ah, someone I used to know, was fairly into this sort of thing."
"Is that right. Sounds like you three really do have some kind of connection. Always brushing up against each other somehow."
At that moment, Iori — who had been hovering around Imamura — reached over and picked up the magical girl figure Imamura had just placed on the bedside cabinet.
Imamura's eyebrow twitched.
"Hey Imamura, why do you keep ignoring me? Also, can her clothes come off...."
Imamura's fist slowly closed.
"Iori's head really is a mystery sometimes." Kotobuki watched Imamura's complexion shifting and remarked.
"It is. We should probably step back a little — don't want to get blood on us." Sebastian said, expression neutral.
Crack.
Iori applied a little too much pressure. Being a knock-off from a substandard manufacturer, the magical girl's arm — the one gripping the fairy wand — snapped clean off.
"Oh dear." A quietly delighted smile appeared on Sebastian's face.
Imamura turned at the sound, and stared at the one-armed magical girl in Iori's hands.
"Lalaco?"
Iori looked blankly at the severed arm he was holding, then raised his head and smiled apologetically at Imamura — whose forehead veins were beginning to surface.
"Sorry about that — how much was this? I'll pay for it."
Imamura didn't answer. He stared at the armless figure for a long moment. Then, with great solemnity, he produced a white handkerchief, laid it over the remains, lifted the figure in both hands, and spoke — voice cracking slightly:
"Lalaco.... I'm sorry. I couldn't protect you. Uuugh...."
"Is that really necessary? Why are you crying again? I'll replace it — I'll buy you ten on eBay, would that work?"
Iori, with no experience handling this particular situation, found himself genuinely at a loss and attempted the only thing he could think of.
"Eighteen generations...."
"What?"
Iori leaned his ear close to Imamura's pale, trembling face.
"You and your eighteen generations of descendants can all go and keep Lalaco company in the afterlife!!"
Imamura's eyes went red. He screamed this, drove Iori to the ground, and deployed all four limbs in an effort to tear him apart.
"What are you doing?! I already apologized!"
Iori, under attack again, fought back with everything he had.
"If apologies fixed things, what would be the point of Lalaco?! Today, I will deliver justice in her name — prepare yourself!"
In his fury, Imamura heard nothing. His hands darted out with astonishing dexterity.
"Let go of me — I genuinely cannot understand a word you're saying!"
Iori's desperate cry, his clothes already half in tatters, tore through the walls of the room and carried out into the open air beyond.
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