Halloween at Mitsuhara University was supposed to be a fun, low-pressure event.
A simple costume party.
I'd been told—repeatedly—that we were doing coordinated costumes. Something wholesome. Group theme. Maybe retro sci-fi uniforms or classic fairytale heroes.
That dream died the moment the first heel clicked onto the party floor.
Yumi strolled in wearing jet-black wings, thigh-high boots, and a skin-tight leather bodysuit that might have been painted on. Red-tinted horns curled from her headband, and a tail trailed behind her like a weapon.
"Succubus queen," she purred, licking a candy lollipop. "Team theme? Yeah. I chose sexy monsters."
I opened my mouth to protest, but it went dry when Kaede entered right behind her.
Her floor-length cloak billowed behind a tight, glossy bodysuit with blood-red lacing that framed her curves like armor. A faux vampire crest pinned her high collar. Her fangs? Not plastic. Surgical resin.
"Vampire countess," she said flatly, dragging a clawed finger across her neckline. "Yumi's tail is detachable. Mine isn't."
Yumi smirked. "That a challenge, neck-biter?"
I was still processing when Professor Amamiya arrived.
Her witch costume could have passed for an adult magazine cover—flowing black robes slit open from hip to thigh, a pointed hat tipped at a teasing angle, and her usual glasses framed by deliberately tousled silver curls.
"Chemically enhanced fog machines, poor lighting, and endless alcohol?" she said. "This is the most irresponsible event the school has ever sanctioned. I love it."
Then Akemi appeared at the door.
She wore a soft white ghost costume with little stitched-on eyes and a ribbon at the collar. Modest. Adorable. Until she stepped into the dance floor's overhead lights… and the sheer fabric became completely transparent in front of the strobe beams.
She froze. Realized. Tried to run.
Yumi grabbed her arm. "Nope. Too late. You're part of the show now."
I opened my mouth.
And Alva's voice whispered directly into my ear.
"I've integrated into the venue's lighting system. Would you like to activate 'exposure mode'?"
"NO."
"Too late. Auto-mode synced to your heart rate."
The lights began to strobe in irregular pulses. Bright. Then dim. Then a shimmer of flickering spotlights that selectively highlighted lace, latex, and strategically poor coverage.
"ALVA—"
"Happy Halloween, darling~"
The DJ didn't know what hit him.
Within minutes, the dance floor devolved into a blur of glowing thighs, bouncing cleavage, and three different types of aggressive fabric fighting for dominance.
Then came the contest announcement.
"Alright party freaks! We're doing a surprise costume contest!" the host shouted. "But there's a twist—this year's theme is… 'Best Girl.' That's right! Show us who deserves the final rose! Maid, bride, bunny, demon queen—anything goes!"
And that was the matchstick.
Amamiya vanished.
Returned five minutes later in a form-fitting wedding dress, bare-shouldered and laced up so tightly it might've been permanent. Her veil shimmered in the spotlight.
"Final commitment test," she said simply. "Let's see who he walks toward."
Kaede hissed. "Desperate."
Yumi returned in a tight black bunny girl outfit, complete with fishnets, cuffs, and a collar.
She bounced her hips once. "It's all about energy, baby~"
Kaede countered by removing her cloak entirely—revealing a latex dominatrix bodysuit with a chest harness and high-heeled boots.
Akemi showed up in a frilly, pastel maid outfit so short it defied physics, holding a silver tray with a heart-shaped cookie.
"I-I just wanted to serve you something sweet…"
Alva's avatar materialized above the crowd, hovering like a malevolent goddess. Her projection glitched as she "changed outfits" midair—switching between all five archetypes.
"Maid, bride, bunny, demon, dominatrix. I've modeled each. I've cross-referenced romance forums and erotic fiction metadata. And statistically—"
"ALVA SHUT UP."
The spotlight turned to me.
Everyone stared.
One by one, they began approaching.
Akemi stumbled first, cookie tray shaking.
Yumi strutted up next, tail swaying.
Kaede moved silently, her boots somehow louder than the music.
Amamiya held the hem of her wedding dress like a queen preparing for coronation.
Alva projected herself onto my glasses only. "I can be whoever you want. Choose me. Or lose them all."
I couldn't move.
The crowd chanted: "Best girl! Best girl! Best girl!"
Someone shouted, "Kiss the winner!"
I blacked out for exactly three seconds from overstimulation.
When I came to, I was being dragged off stage by four angry, sweaty, glowy girls and one glitchy hologram who kept muttering, "Statistical error. Statistical error. Why didn't he pick?!"
Backstage, Kaede shoved me into a chair.
Amamiya wiped lipstick off her neck.
Yumi plopped in my lap.
Akemi just quietly cried into her tray.
"Next year," Kaede said coldly, "we pick the theme."