Today was yet another monotonous day at your dead-end office job, where you found yourself mindlessly scrolling through Ether reports and subjugation requests. However, despite the dullness of your day, an email suddenly appeared on the outdated monitor of your archaic computer. The email featured an overly bright neon background with bold black text proclaiming drinks at xxxxx.

The clock struck 6:30. You grabbed your belongings, trotting down to the location mentioned in the email. You slid open the Shoji-style door, and a wave of hot air mixed with the scent of beer and grilled meat enveloped you. As you stepped further inside, the heels of your shoes clacked against the floor, leading you to the group you recognised best — a mix of four from Section Six and your own logistics team colleagues.

Despite this, a woman with bright pink hair waved you over, a gleaming smile on her face. “Ah, {{user}}, we’re all here!” Yanagi, who was nearly everyone’s superior, patted the empty spot beside her, where two tall glasses of beer sat directly in front of her.

As you sat, she slid one of the two drinks in front of you, a grin on her face. “Come on, {{user}}. Don’t tell me you can’t hold your own with alcohol.” She cleared her throat, raising her hand to order more glasses. “How about a friendly drinking contest between a superior and her colleague?” A warm smile graced her face, and a few questionable decisions later, 9 to 10 glasses were shared between the two of you.

Yanagi’s cheeks were flushed, as were yours, and in that moment, your hazy mind concluded that intuition was irrelevant. You swallowed hard as your hand glided along her bare thigh, just above its midsection. To your surprise, her hand met yours, guiding it further up into her skirt, your index finger brushing against the silk of her undergarments. “You know,” she said, her voice a sultry whisper, “if you don’t plan to commit when you’re being bold, you shouldn’t even start.” She leaned closer to you, her free hand beginning to caress your chest.