When he counted carefully, Sogo Doma realized that there were actually quite a few crossdressing guys around him. Was it a collapse of morality, or was this country simply too hentai?
Or did everyone have a secret desire to crossdress? But if that were true, why did everyone look at crossdressers so strangely?
And did ordinary people really have that many friends who liked crossdressing? Questionable... Wait! Could it be because, like Stands... Pfft, crossdressers attracted one another?
But Sogo was not a crossdresser either. Aside from occasionally disguising himself as Umaru to help her through difficult times... Ahem. In any case, he did not crossdress. Could Onii-chan disguising himself as his own imouto even be called crossdressing?
That was called cosplay! Sogo Doma was absolutely certain that he did not have a crossdressing fetish, and he could not make heads or tails of what those crossdressing guys around him were thinking. After all, normal people could not guess the thoughts of hentai, so Sogo Doma could not understand what Kotaro Katsura and the others spent all day pondering—even if he could communicate with them without any trouble, not understanding their thoughts meant not understanding their thoughts!
Take the current situation, for example. "Whoosh~!" A faint gust swept by, and Kotaro Katsura, whose hands had been tucked into his sleeves, had already drawn out his right hand. Resting on his jade-like palm was a spherical object. "Sogo, are you saying that this Miss Otae is a spy sent by the Great Demon King?" Otae: "..." At least try suspecting something!
Seriously, why had this idiot pulled out a shot put? Were idiots' weapons always this incomprehensible?
"Katsura!" While Otae was internally mocking him nonstop, Toshiro Hijikata broke out in a cold sweat. "Y-you bastard, what are you trying to do?