He grabbed his sandwich and started chewing, desperately trying to hide his reddening face. "I just got that one because it was on sale," he stammered.
"It's not like I have a cosplayer fetish or anything. I swear." The lie was paper-thin.
Yuna picked up her knife slowly, deliberately. She cut a perfect line through the center of her pancake stack with sharp violence.
The fluffy cakes deflated with a sad little sigh.
"On sale." Her voice was dead, emotionless.
"How convenient. They just happened to be having a sale on an anime that perfectly aligns with your disgusting perverted fantasies."
She looked up, her eyes like black holes. "Maybe you should take some notes," she purred dangerously.
"So you can help Mika with her measurements next weekend. I'm sure she'd appreciate a man with so much educational experience."
Mika took a delicate spoonful of her parfait. She savored the bite, closing her eyes for a moment in what looked like pure bliss.
"It sounds interesting. Is it a good story?" She opened her eyes, looking at him with that innocent expression that had something burning underneath. "Maybe you could lend it to me after Ayane is done with it?"
"Um, that one was actually a really good anime, despite all the ecchiness," Makoto started rambling, words tumbling out in a desperate rush.
"The author seems to be quite knowledgeable about the cosplay community and the whole cosplay-making process. The part where the Four Heavenly Queens gather was peak. And the harem and side casts are lovely too...."
He stopped, horror crossing his face. "Oops, no spoilers. It would be more enjoyable for you to watch it for yourself."
Yuna's white-knuckled grip on her knife slowly relaxed. The murderous glint in her eyes softened just a fraction, replaced by something else.
Was it curiosity? Professional interest? She leaned forward, her expression mixing suspicion with undeniable intrigue. "Knowledgeable? In what way?"
Mika watched him with that knowing smile, a spoonful of parfait hovering halfway to her lips. "He's very passionate about it, isn't he?" She took the bite without breaking eye contact.
And that's when Makoto realized he'd done it again. He'd stumbled backwards into the one topic that could unite them all: the all-consuming, slightly pervy world of cosplay and weeb shit.
"Ahem, if you're both interested, maybe we can watch it together this weekend? I don't mind watching it again." He sighed, feeling a huge weight lift from his chest.
The effect was instant. The icy tension in the booth melted away, replaced by the electric buzz of shared nerdy enthusiasm.
Yuna's eyes lit up, the murderous glint completely gone.
A familiar obsessive gleam took its place. "Together?"
A slow grin spread across her face. "Fine. But if it's just a bunch of panty shots and unrealistic jiggle physics, I'm leaving."
Mika beamed with a genuine smile that actually reached her eyes. "I'd love that. It sounds like fun."
She looked between Makoto and Yuna with an expression mixing amusement with something that made his stomach flip.
For a moment, they weren't a chaotic, dysfunctional, problematic love triangle. They were just three dorks united by their shared passion for a niche, slightly pervy hobby.
The truce was fragile and fleeting, but it was still a truce.
Ayane appeared at their table with a fresh pot of coffee. "Looks like I missed something."
She topped off their cups, her gaze lingering on the three of them. "So, movie night at your place, huh? Can I come?"
Makoto grinned. "And you're not invited, Miss Ayane. I wouldn't want you to mess up my plans again."
He shrugged playfully and walked to the cashier. "Don't you dare talk bad about me behind my back," he called over his shoulder. "I might know about it."
Ayane watched him go, a slow grin spreading across her face.
She leaned against the table, arms crossed, looking between the two girls who were now staring at each other over a half-eaten stack of rapidly cooling pancakes.
"So," Ayane broke the tension like throwing a rock through glass. "The little stepsister and the friend."
She tapped a perfectly manicured nail on the tabletop. "You guys aren't very good actors, you know that?"
Yuna glared at her with icy eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about. He's my brother. That's all."
Mika just took a calm sip of her tea, that small smile playing at her lips. "And I'm her friend. We're all just very close."
Ayane threw her head back and laughed. "Oh honey, please. I've seen less sexual tension in the hentai he lends me."
She leaned in, dropping her voice to a whisper. "So let me give you two some advice. He's a mess. A big, clumsy, clueless, perverted weeb."
She straightened up with a wicked grin. "But he's a lot of fun. So whoever wins... make sure you share."
Makoto came back and flicked Ayane's forehead in warning. "Don't you dare try to corrupt my innocent stepsister and her friend with your ecchi, hentai shit."
Ayane recoiled with theatrical drama, hand flying to her forehead. "Ouch! Are you assaulting a poor, hardworking waitress? For shame, Makoto."
But her eyes sparkled, that triumphant grin still plastered on her face. "And who's corrupting who? I'm not the one lending out manga about measuring cosplayers."
He turned to Yuna and Mika. "Did she talk bad about me again?"
Ayane straightened up. "Talk bad about you? Honey, I was singing your praises."
She patted his cheek with a familiarity that made Yuna's jaw clench. "I was just telling these lovely ladies what a generous man of culture you are."
Yuna pushed her empty plate away with a sharp motion.
She didn't look at him. She didn't look at Ayane.
She just stared at a fixed point on the wall, arms crossed tight over her chest. "She was just telling us how much fun and perverted you are."
Mika offered a sweet smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
She carefully folded her napkin and placed it on the table. "She was very complimentary. It sounds like you two are very close."
The unspoken accusation and raw jealousy hung in the air like fog.
Ayane just winked at him over their heads, thoroughly enjoying the chaos she'd created, before wandering off to another table.
Makoto sighed long and wearily. "Let's go home, you two. I feel so sweaty from all that running. I really need a shower now."
He winked at Mika, half-teasing, half-desperate, as if reminding her of something.
"And you should text me whenever you're home too, Mika."