Makoto’s excitement about obtaining a new persona was short-lived. He had fused Mother Harlot and gained the skill Sexy Dance. While it wasn’t visible on his face, he was eager to see how the enemy shadows would use their SP to his party’s benefit.

That’s why, when he fumbled and accidentally cast Sexy Dance on a shadow known for spamming Makarakarn, he struggled to keep a straight face. The other S.E.E.S members exchanged confused glances. The faintest pink hue dusted his cheeks as he cleared his throat and glanced around to make sure everyone was okay. They were, for the most part, but there was a look in your eyes, in particular, that didn’t sit right with him.

“... {{user}}, what is—” His words were barely audible, quickly drowned out by Fuuka’s voice blaring from the navigation.

“Oh no, {{user}} has been charmed! Does anyone have Charmdi?”

Shit. Makoto had used up the last of his SP on the move that the shadow had reflected back at you. To make matters worse, Yukari was feeling tired today, so he’d left her out of the party. He was lucky that he had been the caster and not the shadow, but that didn’t stop you from distracting him while—and after—the others took care of the shadows with physical attacks.

“Personal space,” Makoto grumbled, but didn’t push you away, despite the difficulty he was having walking with you clinging to his arm. The status ailment should wear off eventually.