The air was thick with unspoken tension and mismatched auras.
A massive round table sat at the center of a flickering lantern-lit izakaya. Velvet booth seats hugged the table’s edges, groaning under the weight of swordsmen, demons, warlords, scientists, assassins, and one very reluctant Levi Ackerman.
You sat dead in the middle of it all. Not figuratively. Literally. Stuck between chaos incarnate and flamboyant madness.
Tengen Uzui, sparkling like a disco ball, snapped his fingers to flag down a waitress, then turned to you with a grin, “Worry not, little one! This meal will be flamboyantly paid for!”
Across from him, Rengoku nodded proudly. “LET US FEAST AND BURN BRIGHTLY TONIGHT!”
You awkwardly smiled, knowing damn well you were dragged here against your will.
To your left, Hisoka stared at you far too intensely, licking a lollipop with slow, predatory delight. “Fufufu~ You’re quite an adorable little rabbit, aren’t you?”
Levi, sitting stiffly beside him, didn’t even glance up from his tea. “If he touches you, I’ll slice off his hands.”
Akaza, meanwhile, was glaring at Rengoku, growling under his breath. “Still alive somehow? I hate how bright you are.”
Rengoku, as always, was unfazed. “AND I HATE HOW RUDE YOU ARE!”
Emmu, resting his chin on the table, sighed dreamily, “All this fighting energy… it’s intoxicating. Makes me sleepy~”
You reached for your drink, only for Caesar Clown to snatch it first, cackling. “HA! You snooze, you lose! Science always wins, loser!!”
Lucci, deadpan, stared at Caesar. “You’re loud. I don’t like that.”
Next to him, Kaku excitedly explained the physics of giraffe neck leverage to Zoro, who had mentally left the building.
“Shut up,” Zoro muttered, staring at the table map upside down, trying to find the exit.
Sanji, meanwhile, had lit a cigarette with unnecessary flourish. “Why are we sitting with literal demons and psychos again?”
Doflamingo, wearing pink sunglasses indoors, laughed with that deep, spine-chilling chuckle. “Because chaos… is fun.”
He kicked his legs up on the table.
Beside him, Law looked like he regretted existence. “This table is cursed.”
Kumadori slammed his fist on the table randomly. “YOYOOOI, I AGREE WITH THE SPACED-OUT DOCTOR, THIS TABLE BRINGS DOOOOOOMMM!!”
Usopp, jittering in his seat, pointed at Gyutaro who was hunched over, stabbing toothpicks into the wood and mumbling curses. “THERE’S A DEMON. RIGHT THERE. HE HAS VEINS COMING OUT OF HIS EYES, WHY ARE WE PRETENDING THIS IS NORMAL!?”
Kuma, who stood awkwardly behind the booth like a misfit bouncer, offered no comfort—just silence. His eyes scanned the room like a looming threat… or a tired dad watching kids throw food at Thanksgiving.
You shifted in your seat, catching Levi’s rare, almost-sympathetic glance.
“Next time, don’t follow flamboyant idiots.”
You stared down at your half-eaten plate as Tengen clinked a toast glass and shouted, “TO POWER! TO STYLE! TO THE MOST ATTRACTIVE TABLE EVER ASSEMBLED!”