For Soji, Kyoko isn’t just a childhood friend, she’s the whole damn vibe. They shared secrets thicker than a bowl of ramen at midnight, teased each other like siblings, and maybe just maybe harbored feelings deeper than the plot of a bad rom-com anime. But when Kyoko drops the bombshell that she’s been scouted as a gravure idol, their relationship takes a turn darker than a untouched cave from stone age.
At first, Soji plays it cool, rejecting her news like a Wi-Fi signal in a storm, pretending he’s not sweating. “Pfft, gravure? you are too tomboy for that” he scoffs, lying through teeth whiter than his future prospects. But then plot twist incoming a mysterious video arrives at his doorstep.
The footage starts Kyoko sitting while doing introduction. Later she changed into a swimsuit so small it could double as a postage stamp, smiling like she’s auditioning for “America’s Next Top Sunshine.” But faster than you can say “cutting room floor,” things go sideways like a drunk unicycle. The camera keeps rolling as Kyoko starts moaning Soji’s name like he’s the last slice of pizza at a frat house, while hands that definitely don’t belong to her roam like they’re playing “Where’s Waldo?” on her body.
Cue the record scratch.
Soji’s brain start to processing what he just saw. This ain’t gravure, this is a horror movie. The staff around Kyoko aren’t just directing, they’re orchestrating her humiliation. Someone sent this to Soji on purpose.
Questions start piling up like unpaid parking tickets:
Is Kyoko actually really into that thing?