The game started again, and a new tension filled the air as the girls moved more cautiously.
Then Makoto suddenly found himself surrounded. "What the fuck?" he grunted, his Fox character trapped between a charging Samus and an electrically-charged Pikachu. "It's supposed to be a free-for-all fight."
"It is," Yuna said. Her Pikachu was on his left, a tiny yellow ball of malice, charging up a Thunder Jolt.
"A free-for-all," Ayane agreed. Her Samus was on his right, her arm cannon glowing with a fully charged blast.
"Where everyone is free," Mika finished. Her Princess Peach was floating just above him, a turnip held menacingly in her hand. "To take out the biggest threat first."
It was a coordinated assault. Yuna's Thunder Jolt hit him first, stunning him in place. Ayane's charge shot followed, a massive explosion that sent him flying into the air. Just as he was about to recover, Mika's turnip came down, a small but devastating final blow that sent his Fox sailing off the screen.
"GAME!"
The screen flashed. He had just been ganged up on brutally, without any mercy. The three of them looked at him, their expressions a mixture of smug triumph and wicked glee.
"Well, well," Yuna said. "Looks like you're the first one out, big bro."
"One piece of clothing," Ayane reminded him. Mika just smiled that calculated smile.
And Mafuyu was staring at the screen, awed. "Wow," she whispered. "You guys are really good at this."
"Tchh, fine, fine, I will get my revenge later," he cursed, then slowly removed his watch and put it on the desk. "Don't stare at me like that. Keep going."
"Just your watch?" Yuna's voice dripped with theatrical disappointment. "That's it? That's your first piece? So lame!"
"Be patient, Yuna," Mika said. "He's saving the interesting pieces for later." She gave him a small, encouraging smile.
"Coward," Ayane muttered, but she was already turning her attention back to the screen, a predatory glint in her eyes. "Alright, ladies. Round two. Who's next?"
The next match was chaotic. Yuna and Ayane went at each other with raw fury, a whirlwind of electric attacks and missile blasts. Mika, however, played a different game. She floated around the edges of the battle, picking up items, throwing turnips, and waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
And that moment came when Yuna, in a moment of hubris, tried to land a finishing blow on Ayane. Mika floated down, a Bob-omb held menacingly in her hand. She dropped it right between them. The explosion was massive. It sent both Yuna and Ayane flying off the screen.
"GAME!"
Yuna and Ayane just stared at the screen, mouths agape. They had just been outplayed. The calculated smile never left Mika's face. "Looks like it's a tie," she said sweetly. "You both have to take something off."
"Nice work, Mika," Makoto smirked, licking his lips, putting down his controller to watch the show.
Yuna shot Mika a murderous look. But a bet was a bet. And in this house, bets were sacred. With a low growl, she kicked off one of her unicorn slippers. It flew across the room and hit the wall with a pathetic thud. "There," she snarled. "Happy now?"
Ayane, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying herself. A slow grin spread across her face. "Oh, I'm very happy," she purred. With deliberate grace, she reached up and pulled one of the chopsticks from her messy bun.
Her hair tumbled down one side of her face, a dark, silken curtain that framed her eyes. It was a simple gesture, a thousand times hotter than Yuna's angry slipper-yeeting.
Yuna just stared, realizing she had just been outplayed again. Not in the game, but in the metagame, the game of seduction. And Mafuyu was just watching, her eyes wide. She was taking notes.
Mika picked up her controller, her movements graceful. "Round three?" she asked.
"Damn, I should have worn more to prepare for this," Makoto muttered to himself. As the game resumed, he ran away from the battlefield when two of them ganged up on Mika and ran toward Mafuyu's clumsy Isabelle instead.
While Yuna and Ayane unleashed their frustration on a surprisingly resilient Princess Peach, Makoto made a beeline for the other side of the stage. Mafuyu, who was still trying to figure out how to do a basic jump, was a sitting duck.
His strategy was cowardly and dishonorable, but it was really effective. "Wait... what are you...?" she squeaked, her Isabelle flailing wildly as his Fox unleashed a flurry of laser blasts.
Mafuyu wasn't a fighter. She was just a sweet, innocent creature in a world of bloodthirsty competitors. But Makoto didn't feel a single shred of guilt. He grabbed her and tossed her towards the edge of the stage with a quick throw.
She didn't even know how to recover. She just fell.
"GAME!"
Mafuyu stared at the screen, shocked. "Oh," she said quietly. "I lost."
The three other girls all turned to look at him at the same time. Yuna was furious, Ayane was disappointed, and Mika was just smiling. "You bullied the new girl," she said. "That's not very sportsmanlike, Makoto-kun."
"He's a monster," Yuna agreed. "A fat, shameless monster."
"So much for 'I will protect you', harem king," Ayane added. "Well, but a kill is a kill."
"Come on, you shouldn't lecture me about sportsmanship when you three ganged up on me earlier," he said, turning away, embarrassed. Then he swallowed and turned to Mafuyu.
Mafuyu just sat there. She looked from his expectant, slightly guilty face to the three fierce women around her. A deep blush spread from her neck to the tips of her ears. "Does that mean I have to take something off?" she whispered.
"Rules are rules," Yuna said. But there was a flicker of something like sympathy in her eyes.
"It's okay, Mafuyu-san," Mika said gently. "It's just a silly game."
Mafuyu took a deep breath. Then, with slow deliberation, she reached for the hem of Makoto's old, oversized band t-shirt. She hesitated for a moment, her fingers trembling. Then she pulled it over her head.
Underneath, she was wearing a simple, beige-colored bra. It was practical, comfortable, and unsexy. But on her, on her full, soft, pale body, it was the hottest thing he had ever seen.
Her breasts strained against the thin, worn fabric. Her skin, which had been hidden under the baggy t-shirt, was a canvas of soft curves and delicate stretch marks. She sat there, her arms crossed over her chest, crimson with mortification.
The entire room went silent. Then Yuna let out a long, low whistle. "Holy shit," she muttered. "She's stacked."
"Ahem, don't make her feel embarrassed," Makoto tried to focus back on the game, but his eyes were unable to tear away.
The game controller felt heavy and useless in his hands. His attempt to look away was a complete failure. His eyes were glued to the soft expanse of Mafuyu's skin, the gentle curve of her stomach, the swell of her breasts straining against the cheap, beige fabric.
"As if I haven't seen them in their full glory in that hotel earlier, but still..." he muttered to himself.
His muttered comment, meant only for himself, cut through the charged silence of the room like a thrown rock. Every head snapped towards him.
"What was that?" Yuna's voice was a low hiss. Her eyes had narrowed into slits. "What did you just say about her tits, big bro?"
Ayane let out a slow laugh. "Ooh, reminiscing about the view, are we?" she purred. "Don't worry, we all saw them in their full glory earlier, too. And trust me, we're all very familiar with that."
Mika just tilted her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "It's natural to be... attracted," she said. "They look quite... soft and fluffy." She looked from Mafuyu's chest to Yuna's, a quick glance that was more devastating than any insult.
Mafuyu, who was already on the verge of spontaneous human combustion, just made a small, strangled sound, like a mouse being stepped on. She pulled Makoto's t-shirt, which was lying in her lap, up to her chin, a flimsy shield against the sudden wave of attention.