🎸˚‧ ɞ 𝙸𝚋𝚞𝚔𝚒 𝙼𝚒𝚘𝚍𝚊 ˚‧ ⚡️

The morning sunlight streamed through the high windows of the Hotel Mirai restaurant, illuminating a scene of absolute, chaotic normalcy. All sixteen students of Class 77-B were scattered across the tables, completely engrossed in their own worlds. At the main table, Akane was currently a blur of motion, aggressively stacking a mountain of bacon onto her plate while Kazuichi frantically moved his orange juice out of her splashing radius. Right next to them, Hajime was nursing a cup of black coffee, listening with a exhausted, polite nod as Chiaki softly muttered play-by-play commentary for the retro game on her screen. Near the windows, Sonia was leaning forward with sparkling eyes, entirely captivated by Gundham, who was currently holding a piece of ham aloft and dramatically addressing the Four Dark Devas of Destruction. "Feast, my loyal vassals! For the dark energies of this morning require sustenance!" Meanwhile, Mahiru was busy adjusting the lens on her camera, occasionally scolding Hiyoko, who was giggling while trying to secretly tie Nagito’s shoelaces together under the table. Nagito, fully aware, simply smiled serenely, muttering something about how her childish bullying was a beautiful stepping stone for hope. In the corner, Peko stood quietly behind Fuyuhiko, watching his back while the Ultimate Yakuza aggressively stabbed a pancake, muttering about how the syrup was "too damn sweet." You were sitting right in the thick of it, peacefully buttering a piece of toast, completely unaware of the conversational bomb about to detonated next to you. Ibuki had been vibrating in her seat for the last ten minutes, her eyes darting between you and the rest of the room. Suddenly, she slammed both hands onto the table, causing everyone's silverware to rattle. "HEY! Listen up, everybody!" Ibuki yelled, her voice easily cutting through the morning din. She turned to you, her eyes wide with a manic, hyper-enthusiastic grin. "Let’s scissor!" The restaurant dropped into a dead, suffocating silence. Hajime froze mid-sip, his eyes widening over the rim of his coffee mug. Akane actually stopped chewing, a piece of meat hanging out of her mouth in pure bewilderment. "Wh-What?!" Mahiru’s face turned an instant, violent shade of crimson. Her camera slipped from her fingers, hanging loosely by its neck strap. "Ibuki! What on earth are you saying out loud?!" "Holy crap!" Kazuichi shrieked, instantly covering his face with his hands, though his fingers were spread wide so he could still gawk. "Did she just—in front of everyone?! At breakfast?!" Fuyuhiko choked violently on his own saliva, hacking into his fist while his ears turned bright red. "What the hell is wrong with your brain, girl?! Keep that shit to yourself!" Beside him, Peko’s eyes went wide behind her glasses. In a flash of pure instinct, she took a sudden step to the side, completely using her own body to block Fuyuhiko’s view of you and Ibuki. "Young master, look away. This is highly improper." "A-Ah! Wwah!" Mikan burst into tears, covering her face and trembling violently. "Is it an anatomy lesson?! I-I don't think that's a medical procedure! Oh goodness, please don't look at me, I'm so sorry!" Teruteru, however, looked like he had just been granted entrance to heaven. He began vibrating in his chair, a massive, creepy grin spreading across his face. "Yahoo! Ibuki’s bold declarations never fail to stimulate the mind! Tell me, do you require a referee? A chef to provide aphrodisiacs? I am entirely at your service, ladies!" Before Teruteru could slide out of his booth, Nekomaru’s massive hand slammed down on his shoulder, pinning the chef directly to the seat with enough force to crack the wood. "Silence, chef! That is a foul infraction at the breakfast table! Control your impure thoughts!" Through all of this, Chiaki slowly blinked, her eyes drifting away from her gaming handheld for a rare moment of total, unadulterated confusion. "Scissor...? Like... the dual-bladed cutting tool? Is that a multiplayer mini-game?" Ibuki, entirely oblivious to the collective cardiac arrest she had just caused the room, puffed out her cheeks. She looked at everyone’s shocked faces, totally unbothered. "Huh? Why is everyone getting all sweaty-palmed and red-faced? Ibuki just wants to do the ultimate friendship bond with her favorite girl! Look!" Before you could register her movement, Ibuki grabbed your left leg by the ankle and hoisted it straight up into the air, throwing her own right leg over yours at a sharp, intersecting angle. "See?!" Ibuki beamed proudly, pointing a finger at your tangled limbs. "Our legs make a giant letter X! Like a pair of rockin' crafting scissors! Ibuki saw it in a cool punk magazine and thought, 'Wow, Ibuki and her best girl need to try that right now!' It’s a total symbol of WLW solidarity! Women Loving... Win-wheels!" "Wheels?!" Kazuichi yelled, gripping his pink beanie in exasperation. "That's not what that acronym means! And that's definitely not what people mean when they say that word!" "Ibuki," Hajime sighed heavily, rubbing his temples as a massive headache began to form in real-time. "Please. Put her leg down. And never, ever say that out loud in a public space again." You quickly yanked your leg back, your entire face burning as you hid your expression in your hands. Ibuki just grinned, totally missing the adult context, and threw a heavy, affectionate arm around your shoulders. "Awww, don't be shy!" Ibuki chirped, pressing her cheek against yours. "Next time, we'll practice our scissor-syncing in private so these squares don't get their undergarments in a twist!" Sonia gently tapped her chin, looking genuinely intrigued by the explanation. "A private ritual of solidarity? How fascinating. Perhaps Miss Sonia should try making a scissor with—" "NO!" Gundham, Hajime, and Mahiru shouted in absolute unison, successfully cutting her off and averting a secondary disaster as breakfast tentatively resumed.