Do you think anyone realises that it's not just an act?
Our selling point, our "type". The thing that drives girls wild, makes them scream. This so-called brotherly love.
What would they say if they knew what really happens?
It's not as sweet as it is in the host club. There's no running along the beach, no wiping away each others' tears. Maybe there was when we were younger, when we were innocent, when there was nobody else.
Now it's just moaning and sweating and emptiness.
It leaves me cold.
No-one would be any the wiser. The next day we're back to normal, joking and laughing, playing games. And she's there, with her big innocent eyes and her cute expressions. I can see that he loves her.
I love her too.
And I'm the uke.
I wanted to be the seme, at first, but Hikaru always gets his way. He enjoys it more than I do anyway.
I'm the masochist.
I'm the one who obeys all orders.
I'm the one who gets hurt.
It's all her, of course. She sees right through us. She's the only one even close to knowing what goes on. And she's the one who's tearing us apart, who's turned our sweet romance into something worse – something dirty, something fake.
But when were innocent, there was nobody else.
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