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“The winner of this competition cooks dinner,” Mori declares, crossing his arms over his ivory-white chest. The man really needs to get out more.
“Fire up the grill then, Mori. We won’t have a repeat of last time, and we’ll never lose to the likes of you.” Fukuzawa narrows his eyes and mirrors his stance. He thinks about that kiss more often than he’d like to admit but no way he'll ever confess that to Mori.
Mori doesn’t mind even if he loses. His not-so-subtle plan to seduce Fukuzawa by inviting the ADA to his secluded island he “just happened to have available” for a joint training session is working perfectly. He briefly thinks about the candlelit dinner he has waiting for him in his villa.
The two leaders look at the ground where the starting line is drawn in the white sand, six feet from the sparkling teal sea. They both position themselves in a lunge, bracing one hand down. The ADA and Port Mafia watch with bated breath.
Atsushi is hiding behind Dazai, peeking with one eye. Dazai is nudging Chuuya in his side with his elbow, who in turn is digging his heel into the brunette’s foot. Akutagawa is lounging on a chair under an umbrella a few feet away, clearly uninterested. He does keep an eye on the jinko though over the rim of his sunglasses and finds his nervousness amusing. Higuchi’s fanning his face with a giant frond leaf she found somewhere. Yosano’s on a towel laying on her stomach and reading a fashion magazine while Kouyou puts sunscreen on her back. Elise is building a sandcastle next to them. Kunikida has his notebook open and his pen tip pressed down hard, the ink bleeding through to the page below. Naomi’s arm is wrapped around her Nii-san’s to Kunikida’s right. Ranpo snorts while he sucks a lollipop—not even he can guess the outcome of this one, but he has considered a few possibilities. Poe's grip tightens on his other hand and petting Karl, who’s perched on his shoulder. Kyouka sneaks her third raspberry popsicle from the cooler and quickly stands back by Lucy. Well, as close as she can considering the blue and white polka dot donut inflatable tube she’s wearing around her waist. Even Gin has taken her mask off, her eyes riveted to the scene before her.
“Remember, the use of Abilities is not allowed, ladies and gentlemen. On your mark,” Hirotsu announces. “Get set…DROP!” The men gently release their hermit crabs simultaneously onto the sand and stand back up. Mori gives Fukuzawa a smirk and the ADA leader simply glares back.
The red shelled crab takes off sprinting the second it’s put down on the ground. Gin cups her hands around her mouth and surprises everyone with a “PORT MAFIA NEVER LOSES! RUN, ODA, RUN!”
“LET’S GO, JINKO! YOU CAN DO IT!” Kenji screams. The black-and-white striped shell doesn’t move at first. Slowly, its little red legs pop out underneath the shell, one at a time, its head and whiskers following. The shell lifts itself up and starts scurrying towards the sea, not about to be outdone by Oda's lead.
It almost manages to catch up. Oda turns sideways and skirts itself horizontal to the sea.
“UGHH!!” Higuchi moans. At some point she got caught up in the excitement enough to leave Akutagawa’s side and is wringing her hands in front of her. Chuuya lifts his hand and reaches it forward but Dazai immediately grabs it. “Noooo Abilities, remember chibi?” Chuuya scowls but noticeably doesn’t remove his hand from Dazai's grasp. The jinko crab stops and retreats its limbs into its shell.
The jinko crab finally starts moving again just as Oda seems to stumble on something and redirects itself back towards the sea. It looks like the crabs are neck-and-neck, both of them about to finish at the same time—
A seagull dives straight down and flies away with Oda.
The group stares at the seagull as it returns to the sky. Mori pulls at his hair and the Port Mafia team lets out an enormous groan. “Does that even count?” he whines. “How was I supposed to account for a fucking seagull?”
Fukukawa snickers. “What a shame your crab wasn’t fast enough,” he taunts. “You did have an equal shot as we did to search for the best crab. Slow and steady wins the race." At this point the jinko crab is nowhere to be seen, likely swept up in the gentle waves.
Mori sighs. "Looks like we're making dinner, Port Mafia." He turns to Fukuzawa. "Unless you're up for a beach volleyball rematch...?"