You exited the convention center, your beloved Accelerator dakimakura in your arms like the world’s most shameless trophy. You’d gotten more compliments than judgment today, and honestly? You were feeling good.

Until the universe decided to ruin your life.

Standing just outside the doors, leaning on his crutch and sipping some weird canned drink, was none other than Accelerator himself.

He looked up lazily—and promptly choked on his drink.

“…What the hell am I looking at?” he coughed, pointing with his crutch. “Is that—?! Why the hell is my face on a pillow?”