After they had finished their lunch, Makoto helped Mafuyu clean up. "Well, it's time for me and Mika to do our promo work then. We'll come back before 2:30 to prepare for the contest."
He glanced at Mafuyu. "Do you want to stay here or come with us?"
Mafuyu paused, her hands stilling over the trash bag she was tying up. A delicate blush colored her cheeks. She understood the unspoken invitation in his question and knew what it could entail, especially with him.
"What if... he wants to take his revenge for last night?! What if I allow him to? But... that would be so embarrassing." She looked from his expectant face to the chaotic energy of the con floor, and then back to the safety and order of their small booth.
"Oh... um..." she began, her voice soft and hesitant. "I think I should stay here." She offered an apologetic smile. "Yuna-chan and Ayane-chan might need my help if it gets busy. And someone needs to make sure they don't fight."
The last part was said with a fond sigh. It was clear where she felt most comfortable and useful. Her place was here, as the calm anchor in the middle of the storm.
"Hmph. Good choice, Mafuyu-nee," Yuna sniffed, crossing her arms. She gave Makoto a sharp, pointed look. "Don't go getting any weird ideas, you fat pig. You're supposed to be promoting our cosplay circle, not poking your dick at Mika." Her accusation was automatic, just a familiar beat in their routine.
Ayane just winked at Mafuyu. "Good call, Mama-fu. Keep the peace while the rest of us are out on the front lines."
"Someone has to keep an eye on our earnings, too," Yuna added, her glare daring anyone to challenge her. "And Mafuyu-nee is the only one I trust not to spend it all on gacha rolls, hentai doujin or... giant robot merchandise."
Mika's serene smile widened just a fraction. This was perfect for her, since she got Makoto all to herself. She slipped her hand into his, her grip surprisingly firm. "We'll be back on time. Don't worry about us."
"Hmm, let's do something different this time, then. Get on my shoulders, Mika." He winked and hoisted her up, holding the group's promotion board with their X account and booth number.
Mika let out a small, surprised squeak as he lifted her into the air. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his shoulders, the soft fabric of her kimono a warm weight against him.
The view from up there must have been incredible. She was a small, pink-eyed demon perched atop her demonic Muzan steed, surveying her new kingdom. "Oh!" Mika said, her voice a little breathless, muffled by the bamboo muzzle. She quickly recovered her composure, her back straightening, her posture becoming regal and elegant.
The effect on the con floor was immediate.
"WHOA! LOOK AT THAT!"
"Dude, that's the Nezuko from the viral tweet!"
"And she's with Muzan-sama now! We should get a picture!"
An enthusiastic crowd immediately started to form around them, phones held high. Nezuko-Mika had just become a mobile, living advertisement, far more effective than any static banner.
Yuna just stared with her mouth slightly agape. She was witnessing a level of shameless but brilliant marketing that even she hadn't considered. She wasn't sure if she should feel furious or impressed.
Ayane just threw her head back and laughed, loud and unrestrained. "That's my harem king!" she shouted, cupping her hands around her mouth. "Show them who's the boss!"
Mika leaned down. Makoto couldn't see her smile behind the muzzle, but he could feel it in the way her whole body seemed to vibrate with glee. She gave a small, regal wave to the adoring public, like a perfect little demon princess on display.
===
An hour later, they returned to the booth to rest. "Phew, that was tiring," Makoto sighed and leaned back in his chair.
The girls were fixing their wigs, costumes, and makeup before the contest. The atmosphere in the booth hummed with nervousness. Ayane was meticulously reapplying her lipstick. Mafuyu carefully repinned a stray butterfly to Yuna's haori. Mika just sat perfectly still, like a meditative statue of a demon.
"Need to do something to help them... loosen up," Makoto thought and shook his head, grinning lewdly at the grumpy Yuna. "I haven't used my 'no saying no' privilege on you yet, have I?"
His words cut through the tense quiet like a thrown grenade.
Yuna froze; the small mirror in her hand trembled. Her violet-lensed eyes, which had been focused on her eyeliner, snapped up to meet his in the reflection. They were wide with shock and a thrilling she couldn't quite hide. "You... you wouldn't, you pervert pig. Not now! Not right before the contest."
Ayane stopped applying her lipstick. She looked from Makoto's predatory grin to Yuna's shocked, flushed face. "Oh, he would," she purred with a low, amused hum. "He absolutely would."
Mika said softly. "The rules are very clear, Yuna-chan. There are no exceptions even for you."
Yuna slowly set her mirror down. She turned, her movements carrying the weight of quiet surrender. "Fine. But if you make me smudge my makeup, I'm going to fucking kill you." She looked back at him, her eyes blazing with defiant challenge. "What do you want, you disgusting pig?"
"You look nervous! You're always so nervous before you take part in any test," Makoto grinned. "So... touch yourself right here, right now, until you cum. Don't worry, we'll cover for you."
Yuna's face went from furious defiance to complete, system-crashing shock. Her jaw hung open. Her eyes were wide with horror and disbelief. "Here?!" she squeaked. "Now?! In front of... of them?!" She gestured wildly at the other girls, at the steady stream of people walking past their booth.
"That's an excellent idea, darling," Mika said, her voice calm and even. She stood immediately. "Ayane-chan, Mafuyu-san, help me with the backdrop."
The three of them moved with silent, terrifying efficiency. They repositioned the clothing rack, draped a spare black tablecloth, and suddenly Yuna had a secluded, private little corner in the middle of the bustling convention.
"There," Mika said in her sweet voice. "All the privacy a girl could need."
Ayane leaned against the makeshift wall, a predatory grin on her face. "Don't be shy, little stepsister, we're all family here. We all have seen you naked."
Mafuyu just stood there with a mortified shade of crimson on her face. She kept holding up a corner of the tablecloth like a human curtain rod.
Yuna stared at the dark public space they had created for her. She looked at Makoto with a slight blush. "Fine," she purred. She walked into the space, her hips swaying with confident swagger. "But you're going to watch. And you're not allowed to look away."
"Fine. Get going, we don't have much time," he fixed his eyes on her. "Try not to make too much noise. I'm sure people can hear."
The threat of being overheard seemed to act as a powerful aphrodisiac. A thrilling glint appeared in her eyes. "Oh, don't worry, I'll be very, very quiet, big bro."
She kneeled in the small, dark space, the intricate butterfly pattern of her haori a stark contrast against the plain black backdrop. Her hands, which had been trembling with rage and excitement, were now surprisingly steady.
Yuna slowly reached under her hakama pants. Makoto couldn't see what she was doing, but he could see the effect: A small gasp escaped her lips. Her back arched in a graceful bow of pleasure. Her eyes, which had been so sharp and focused, went hazy and unfocused, lost in a world of her own making.
Her breathing became a series of short, shallow gasps, each one a silent, desperate plea for more. She bit down on her lower lip, her white teeth a sharp contrast to the deep red of her lipstick, stifling the moans that threatened to escape.
The minutes ticked by. The muffled sounds of the con, the announcements, the music, and the distant roar of the crowd were a strange, surreal backdrop to the silent, secret drama unfolding in their little corner of the world.
"Almost... there... I'm... cumming..." She was close now. Her body was a quivering bowstring of pleasure.
"Let me help," Makoto said, leaning in. He grabbed her head and crashed his lips onto hers, his tongue sliding in, greedy to suck on her tongue. "I love you the most, Yuna," he mumbled during their kiss.
Yuna's eyes flew open wide with shock and pleasure. A strangled, incoherent sound was torn from her throat, but it was quickly swallowed by his mouth. She came in a violent, overwhelming orgasm. Her body convulsed with a series of deep, racking shudders that seemed to shake her from head to toe.
As the climax calmed down, Yuna collapsed against him, boneless and trembling. Her lips were still locked with his, her tongue limp and pliant, her breathing ragged gasps against his mouth.
"I..." she whispered, her voice impossibly happy, muffled against his lips. "I love you, too... even though you're a fat, disgusting, hentai... perverted pig."
"That was..." It was Mafuyu's voice, "...the most romantic thing I've ever seen."
Ayane let out a low, appreciative whistle. "Damn. The main wife always gets the best lines."
Mika said nothing. But Makoto could feel the weight of her jealous stare. "So does that help with your nerves, Yuna?"
Yuna just stared at him with a dazed, dreamy expression on her face. The usual fiery tsundere had been extinguished, replaced by a pliant, affectionate kitten. She touched her lips, still swollen and wet from his kiss, a small smile on her face. "...Yeah, I... I think I'm ready now, big bro."
Makoto giggled and pulled away. "That sounds good. Mika, help Yuna fix her makeup, please."
Mika glided into the small space with a makeup bag in her hand. But her eyes, when they met his, sparkled with wicked light. "Of course, darling, I will help the main wife to look her best for her big performance."
She kneeled in front of Yuna, her movements graceful. "Chin up, Yuna-chan," she said softly. "Let's fix this mess you've made of yourself."
Yuna, for once, didn't protest. She just sat there and allowed herself to be pampered.
Ayane peeked over the top of the backdrop, a predatory grin on her face. "Ten minutes to showtime, ladies," she said with a lazy drawl.