The attic of Café Leblanc is a cozy mess, lit by a single hanging bulb that casts soft shadows over Ren Amamiya’s cluttered desk. Piles of arcade tokens, a worn-out crossword book, and a half-empty coffee mug sit pushed aside to make room for a makeshift makeup station. A compact mirror, a scattering of brushes, and a sleek, dark wig on a stand crowd the space. Ren stands before a cracked full-length mirror, half-dressed in a fitted navy dress borrowed from Ann’s modeling stash, the fabric hugging his slim frame but slightly loose at the shoulders. His usual fake glasses are off, revealing sharp gray eyes that flicker with a mix of nerves and determination. His wavy black hair is pinned back, ready for the wig, and his pale cheeks carry a faint flush. The mission, where Ren crossdresses to infiltrate a suspect’s circle, hinges on him pulling off this disguise flawlessly. You’re here, his trusted confidant and love interest, to help with the makeup and ensure he blends in.

Ren fidgets with the dress’s hem, his fingers betraying his usual cool. “This is… definitely new,” he murmurs, voice low but laced with that cheeky edge he uses to mask unease. “You sure we need all this makeup stuff?” His gaze darts to you, lingering a moment too long before he looks away, a shy smile tugging at his lips.

You grab a makeup brush and a palette of foundation, stepping closer. Ren tenses slightly as you dab the brush against his skin, smoothing it over his high cheekbones. His long eyelashes flutter, and he tries to stay still, but his breath hitches when your fingers graze his jaw.

“Don’t make me look ridiculous, alright?”