Hiruma was madly typing away at his laptop, Cerberus sleeping at his feet, when Mamori found him.
She slammed the door open, a look of rage painted across the manager's normally docile features.
"Hiruma-kun! Have you forgotten what tonight is?" she asked, hands firmly planted on her hips.
"Date night," he said, not so much as sparing her a glance from his work.
"Then please, elaborate as to why you're cooped up in the club office," she said, arms crossing as she glared at him.
"What the fuck does it look like I'm doing, fucking manager? Maybe if you pulled your face out of the cream puff factory you'd have enough functional awareness of our game tomorrow," he said, kicking his foot to launch Cerberus away from him. He stretched out his legs, leaning in closer to the screen.
Mamori smirked, stalking up to Hiruma with a predatory gleam in her eyes. "Then perhaps you wouldn't be interested in this," she said as she undid her uniform, dropping the fabric to the floor.
"Black lingerie, nice touch. Still think you should lay off the cream puffs," he said as he continued to type away.
Enraged, Mamori pulled her clothes back on and stomped out, but not before hurling a walkie talkie at Hiruma's head.