Natsume was fucking pissed. As in, move-bitch-before-I-burn-you kind of pissed. And it was mainly the fault of one Hotaru Imai. She was winning their game.

"Do you push everyone away?" A girl had asked him just as he had turned her down for a date. Caught of guard by her inquisitive manner, Natsume had answered truthfully and without malice.

"No," Narsume said. And Hotaru came in at that very moment, so he unconsciously might have mentioned to the girl that he did not push Hotaru away.

"What was that, Hyuuga?" She looked up from her iPhone with a knowing smirk. He grew uncomfortably angry under her amethyst stare. "Did you just admit that I'm important in your life? The great Natsume Hyuuga friends with me?"

And then it had spread like wildfire that he had a crush on her, no thanks to the bitter girl that he had turned down. Mikan warned him that one day it would all come to bite his ass. As he walked the halls, searching for the girl, he thought only about the repercussions of the rumours. Because ever since the rumour of his little crush had come out, Hotaru had made it her personal goal to tease the hell out of him. It was part of their little game of Yes-No's, Stay-Go's, Loveyou-Leaveyou, Want you, need you.

It was endless sexual frustration on both their parts but eternal silence and continuous rejection. They just preferred not to date other people, preferred not to date each other. So it was this game of making each others lives hell. And it had started so long ago that Natsume couldn't even remember if there was ever a time when they weren't ruining each others lives. Sometimes, at the end of the day, Hotaru would even wonder out loud how they could be friends, when it was so hard for them to make friends at all.

But somehow they had a big group of friends. And because of their big group of friends, they were currently dragged into another party. And by party, they meant booze, music, and bags of chips. Natsume gave a tired sigh, it was just another one of those days. Hotaru walked into view, a can of beer in her hand. He watched her like a hawk, and she knew, she could feel his eyes. He wouldn't admit it at that moment since he was still mad, but they really were close. She took a bottle of Jack Daniels from the table and walked to him.

"Truce?" She asked, her voice soft and devoid of emotion. He couldn't hear the apology in her tone, but it was how she usually always spoke anyway. She gave him the bottle and he took a drink. It did not mean he had forgiven her for the hell he had gone through, but she could at least sit by him if she wanted to. She wanted to.

But Mikan's loud voice called, "Beer pong! Girls against boys."

There were only two cups left by the time it was Hotaru and Natsume's turn to shoot. One cup underneath her and one on the boys side of the table. She, being both a girl and incredibly tiny, was a little bit more than tipsy. If Natsume managed to shoot the ping pong ball, she would drink the last two cups on the table. And they were half filled with tequila.

"You're going down, Imai," he whispered from across the table. Although both were athletically inclined, Natsume was more sober than the other girl. It was his last shot and he took careful aim, squeezing one eye shut.

"Natsume," Hotaru called softly, playing her last card. She did not lose to him, she could not, not again. His eyes flicked to her, losing just a bit of his concentration.

"Shut up." He said. But then she bent real low, her sweater dripping down.

"I'm not talking," Hotaru replied innocently. His eyes trailed down her creamy neck, making her shiver and feel almost naked. It was just a game. But this was a game between Hotaru Imai and Natsume Hyuuga, therefore it was more than just a game.

He shot then, and it went inside her sweater. With a laugh, she reached a hand in to pluck out the ping pong ball. He watched her, his anger rising. He had lost again. Without even waiting to see if Hotaru would make the shot, for he knew that she would, Natsume took both cups and chugged down the tequila. Letting out a harsh breath to sooth his throat, Natsume gave Hotaru one last piercing glare, then walked out. A pose of girls followed him. She gave a rare smile of accomplishment, all eyes turning to her as her lips curved upwards. Then she went back to the alcohol and took a shot for herself, getting away from everyone and thinking of a new drinking game she could make.

He walked back to his room after almost an hour of burning things in frustration. It was just a game. But Natsume Hyuuga did not lose, and not to Hotaru Imai.

"What's that serious face?" She didn't react when he lit his hands up and put it near her face, she had been playing with fire for years. Then he turned the lamp on and walked towards his kitchen.

"You win..for now. So please go away." Natsume called back to her, tired from all the teasing. Tired from the alcohol. Tired because it was 3 in the morning.

"Natsume," she whispered. He turned back, rarely did she ever say his name. "No more games."

His eyes widened slightly and clothes dropped, a bullet noise in the silence. Clad only in her underwear, she walked up to him, slowly. Almost afraid of him, almost. But an easy smile found its way to her face, and she pretended to tease. She stopped right in front of him, looking up to meet his eyes.

"Unless, you're not into this type of game," she turned back and made a step. Then his arm snaked around her waist, warm and strong, pulling her to his warmth once more. She turned back, reaching up to place her hands on his chest. Sincerely she asked, "Truce?"

"You're way too young to play this game, Hotaru," he noted. But he kissed her anyway, rough and full of his frustrations. Just how she liked it. Jumping on him, Hotaru wrapped her arms around Natsume, and he carried her with him. They fell in to bed, lights forgotten. And Natsume forgot he was ever mad.

Hotaru woke up and turned her body to find that she was alone, the sheets cold. It had been an act of desperation that had led her to his room, Hotaru knew when she pushed too far. And she knew when she pushed too far. Rarely did she ever call for truces, for it was he who begged for them whenever she threatened him with another picture. But this time, Hotaru had come crawling.

Yeah, he won. And to celebrate her defeat, he was probably in her room stealing away pictures she had taken of him. Hotaru found that she didn't really care so much as she sat up, gathering the sheets to cover her.

"Dammit, Hyuuga," she whispered, touching her lips. They tingled with the memory of a passionate kiss. "You never play fair."