To drink, and drink, and...

There was no point in attempting to rush through them- each of the extravagant, oversized, potent beverages seemingly defied all but the slowest attempts to drain their volume. Every drink on the Specials menu had a similar such charm to them- a delicious extravagance that could only be thoroughly savored, every bit as much an experience as it was a refreshment.

They shared other important qualities too, ones that would ensure that the "experience" kept going long after the glasses were empty. Although their burdensome volume was slow to work through, it was troublingly quick afterwards- so much so that Miho, Derya, and Aurelie were undoubtedly suddenly aware of certain growing pressures. It was up for debate whether or not that was due to their minds playing tricks on them, or if the drinks really could have such an incredible, instantaneous effect, but it scarcely mattered which was true.

That unavoidable sensation was part of the experience, and meant to be savored in much the same way as the overwhelmingly fruity, sweet flavors or bright, eye-catching colors of each drink. All around them, other Inryoans were enjoying the same rush of gambling, hedonism and regret. After all, this particular establishment, Deadline On Sixteenth, was purpose-built to facilitate and cater to this specific experience.

It was more than simply drinking in excess. It was just as much about the games, and their various consequences. High-stakes games where skill and chance had equal power, and outcomes were anything but guaranteed, where winners' victory was sweet and losers' drinks were even sweeter, in their own perverse way. The café didn't just sell drinks, they had card packs and pre-built punishment game kits ready to go behind the counter, too. For a fee, one could even rope the wait-staff into a game or two, though that was hardly necessary given the number of groups who would eagerly accept another player or two to their table.

Miho sullenly nursed her Bahama Mama, her already glacial progress slowing even further thanks to the unique shape of her glass. The bright-orange drink was served in a glass that got progressively wider nearer its base, much like Miho herself. She couldn't deny that she was enjoying the drink, but it wasn't exactly the most interesting thing in the world- and attempting small talk would just make finishing it off an even slower task. Like the others around her, she turned her attention to the other tables.

Some held games that had just started, a rapid procession of early turns with little in the way of interaction or complex plays. Others were deep into the late game, each player studying the field and their own hands, plotting out the future in their mind and pushing for whichever one best suited them. Some did so with clear minds, while others were already pressured into making misplays and mistakes thanks to a number of empty glasses beside them.

Some games had finished before even Miho's own had. Just across from them, two girls in extremely visible distress, at least as bad as that of the waitress from earlier, desperately attempted to gulp down the contents of a punch-bowl through straws, thick quivering thighs crossed over one another only emphasizing the colossal bulges in their lower abdomen. On the left, an immensely curvy, slightly plump blonde with long, fluffy curls making her seat groan with every motion, and to the right, a girl with very similar curves but a wildly different, much sharper aura, glasses, and black hair.

They'd run out of room to keep it all in ages ago, but the small-statured, white-haired androgyne between them didn't seem to care about that one bit. In one hand, they idly twirled a small bottle Miho was all too familiar with, and the other held a timer steadily ticking down, with only a handful of minutes left. The wide-eyed blonde's gaze was fixed on the bottle, and her companion never took her eyes off the ticking clock, aside from when her eyes screwed shut from the effort of holding her bursting bladder.

Miho's eyes drifted away from the sight, but her mind lingered. Although she would have called such a line of thinking intrusive and unwanted had anyone asked her about it directly, she couldn't deny some level of interest in the proceedings. Just like how Derya genuinely enjoyed finding all the ways in which cardboard rectangles could interact with each other, Miho did, deep down, enjoy the mechanics of punishment games.

Had the two girls simply failed at a game of trust, or was the game rigged from the very start? After all, such a setup would allow the two to drink different amounts without alerting the other, potentially lessening their own burden- but if they both tried that, they'd be punished by the very potent contents of that bottle. As it was, they'd clearly failed already, lacking enough time to finish the drink- but had they started with enough in the first place?

Eventually, Miho's wandering gaze fell upon Deadline on Sixteenth's final feature- the locked restroom door, with signs all around and over it indicating that it couldn't be used, entered, or even thought about. That was, technically speaking, a lie, but none of the girls here had one of the coveted passes that would let them in, either. Those couldn't even be purchased, only won in highly-specific, tournament-style games run by the café itself.

"What's wrong, Miho? You're staring with such intent, but you haven't even finished your drink..."

Miho was brought back to reality by Elisalotte's clumsy attempt at teasing. It was excusable- after all, she'd been in a winning position so few times that it could be counted on one hand- but Miho's scowl deepened all the same. She was, after all, a little bit behind the other two, and the timer would only start when all three drinks were empty.

A few minutes later, she'd conquered her drink, just seconds behind Aurelie. Derya had gone through her own a lot quicker, but that was to be expected from the living buzzsaw. Miho let out a half-satisfied sigh as her empty glass met with the table, Elisalotte tapping her phone to start their timer.

For the next five hours, they would endure the consequences of their loss.

There was little ceremony in the act of getting up and heading to the counter to pay, though Miho did spare one last glance over her shoulder. She told herself it was to make sure they weren't leaving anything behind... but in truth, it wasn't her own table she was looking back at.

If the two girls had dared to stop gulping down punch for any reason, they would have almost certainly been wailing loud enough for everyone in the café to hear, thrashing about and pleading for mercy. That was undoubtedly what their waitress wanted to do, too- the same one that had served Miho, Derya, and Aurelie their drinks was now shakily asking the other group if they wanted anything more, despite the fact that the two girls were already struggling with a chemically-enhanced lake's worth of punch.

She'd never know what the white-haired tyrant had ordered, but it sure didn't look like "nothing".

"Come on, Miho! The fun's only just starting!" Derya said, putting on a clearly fake rueful tone.