Umi's face underwent a series of complex structural shifts—somewhere between a deep blush of embarrassment and a rhythmic twitch of pure irritation—as she processed being addressed as "Number One" in front of the entire group.
"Stop calling me that!" she hissed, though the command lacked its usual bite.
Nico, meanwhile, leaned against the counter, spinning a potato peeler like a weapon. Her sharp eyes were fixed on Agung's concentrated expression. "Hey, 'Panda'—and I use that term with the utmost professional idol-sarcasm—how did you even know we were calling you that? You were supposed to be dead to the world in Room 4."
Agung didn't miss a beat, dropping a handful of perfectly cubed potatoes into a large pot of water. He patted his stomach with a flour-dusted hand, the roundness of his belly making a soft *thump* against the Mikan apron.
"Look at me, Nico," he said with a dry, self-deprecating chuckle. "I've got this round belly, a softer face than I had yesterday, and I'm currently being bullied into manual labor by a group of girls I apparently fathered an entire school district with. It wasn't exactly a leap of logic."
He paused, a playful glint appearing in his eyes as he looked at the girls crowded in the kitchen.
"To be honest, I was actually juggling between 'Panda' or 'Bear' when I was thinking about my new physique upstairs," he confessed. "I figured I looked a bit like a grizzly after a very successful salmon season. But then I just randomly settled on 'Panda.' It felt more... on-brand for someone whose main defense mechanism is sleeping and eating bamboo-flavored Swiss chocolate."
Chika burst out laughing again, leaning over the counter. "You chose your own nickname before we even gave it to you?! That's so unfair!"
"A Panda has to be proactive," Agung countered, finally looking up from the stove. "If I didn't name myself, I was worried Mari would start calling me 'The Golden Snorlax' or something even more expensive-sounding. 'Panda' is humble. It's approachable. It says, 'I might have a quadrillion dollars, but I still enjoy a good nap and a budget data plan.'"
"A proactive panda," Dia muttered, rubbing her temples as the sheer absurdity of the night continued to escalate. "Heaven help us. We came here to resolve a three-year disappearance, and we've ended up in a comedy routine about body proportions and budget smartphones."
"Hey," Agung said, pointing a wooden spoon at her. "The miso is almost done. If you're going to complain, do it while you're setting the table. The 'Panda' doesn't do service—he only does production."
"He's already assigning chores!" Ai chirped, nudging Lanzhu. "See? He's fitting in perfectly!"