The atmosphere in the room turned strange under the illusory, dim LED lights. The unexpected appearance of the Gyaru group and their stunned reaction created a fascinating, silent pause. The beauty and otherworldly difference of the four boys, who seemed from another world, left the usually noisy girls now not daring to breathe too hard.
Daiki, in the role of the charming vampire, was the first to break the silence. A faint smile bloomed on his lips—not the smile of a youthful boy, but the enchanting, challenging smile of a creature who had lived for centuries. He stepped towards the group of girls, each step slow and graceful. The deep red cloak fluttered slightly with each step, tracing magical curves.
His blazing red eyes swept lightly over the girls' bewildered faces, lingering a little longer on Yumi, the group's leader. He bowed very low, a perfect, aristocratic bow, hand placed over his chest, his voice deep and warm, tinged with a mesmerizing tone:
"Greetings, young ladies. Your appearance is truly full of surprises and charm." He lifted his head, his gaze like a net looking straight at Yumi. "Have you lost your way into our domain? Are you searching for something? Or…" His voice lowered, full of suggestion, "have you been drawn by the scent of blood and my eternal loneliness?"
Yumi shivered slightly. Her heart beat erratically. The Daiki she once knew, the one who always wore headphones and avoided eye contact, had completely vanished. In his place was a dangerously beautiful creature with an irresistible allure. She almost forgot this was just a cosplay performance.
"I… we…" Yumi stammered, losing her usual boldness.
Daiki chuckled softly, a laugh as light as a passing breeze. He raised his hand, as if to touch her blonde hair, a gesture full of affection but also hinting at a hidden thirst. "Do not be afraid, young ladies. Your beauty… is the rare light in my dark world. May I…"
"ENOUGH."
A voice, cold as ice and dry, cut through the mesmerizing atmosphere. Everyone jolted and turned around.
Kenji, or rather, the emotionless CEO, had stood up. His eyes were still empty, without a ripple, but his posture exuded an inexplicable sense of threat. He stepped forward, each step slow but firm, the annoyance radiating from him making the air even more tense.
He didn't look at the girls, but directed his attention straight at Daiki.
"You are breaking the group's rules." Kenji's voice was flat, without any inflection, each word like an ice cube dropping on the floor. "This is not the place for you to show off and put on a personal entertainment show."
Daiki, still in character, frowned, a flash of discontent in his red eyes. "I am merely welcoming our unexpected guests, Mr. CEO. Is that not basic courtesy?"
"Guests?" Kenji repeated, a faint trace of sarcasm in his tone. "They are intruders. And you," he stopped in front of Daiki, his gaze penetrating, "are being controlled by trivial emotions. Pathetic."
Before Daiki could react, Kenji suddenly struck. A quick, neat blow, seemingly powerful but actually controlled to not cause injury, hit Daiki squarely in the chest. "Thump!" A heavy sound. Daiki buckled slightly, his mouth agape in surprise and anger. The red cloak was disheveled.
"What are you doing, Kenji!" Haruto, in the role of the Doctor, shouted, still gripping his fake scalpel tightly.
Itsuki, in the wheelchair, also flinched slightly, a flicker of worry in his vacant eyes.
Kenji completely ignored them. He turned to the group of girls, his cold gaze finally falling upon them. That look made the girls tremble, as if doused with cold water.
"Get out." His voice brooked no argument. "Now."
Yumi and the other girls gaped. The earlier fascination was completely shattered, replaced by fear and confusion. They backed away, not daring to say another word.
"This is our private space," Kenji continued, his tone still indifferent, but each word carried his displeasure. "And the characters you see are not here for your amusement. GET LOST."
That final, frustrated shout finally scared the girls. They turned and hurriedly ran out of the room, leaving behind a heavy silence and the half-closed door.
Once they were gone, Kenji turned back to look at Daiki, who was still clutching his chest, his face contorted.
"Why?" Daiki growled, his voice back to normal, no longer carrying the vampire's cadence.
Kenji loosened his fake tie, his breathing still even. "Because we are not putting on a show for them. It's for the characters we love, and for the pain of theirs that we feel," he pointed at Daiki, "and that all of us feel, deserves better than that. It's not meant to become entertainment for those Gyaru girls."
He looked around the room, his gaze sweeping over Haruto, then stopping at Itsuki in the wheelchair. "We do this to honor them. To live as them. Not to show off."
Silence fell once more. Kenji's cold words were like a bucket of cold water, extinguishing the earlier excitement, but also making them suddenly realize a deeper truth.
They weren't just cosplaying. They were trying to touch the dark, complex, and painful parts hidden deep within their beloved characters. And that required absolute respect, not the curiosity of outsiders.
Daiki finally sighed and nodded. "Yeah. I get it."
Under the dim lights, the four figures returned to their own world, a place where tragedies, obsessions, and apathy were revered with respect. The door had closed, but perhaps, today's event—the first conflict among the club members—would lead to more clashes and, ultimately, a deeper understanding of each other.