There

He stood

Paralyzed

In shock

Horror

Fear?

What is there to fear?

It cannot be.

His chest was heavy

Cold air

Like a pungent gas

Traces of smoke

Suffocating

Limbs weaker

Mind

Hurt.

All the while

Rosy eyes

Of an insidious woman

Sadistically

Faint

Lethal smile

She stared at him.

"It's over. Hachiman."

His lips refused to move.

Yet

He found

Strength

Courage

To look back

Stare at death

In the eye.

"No..."

His gambit had failed him.

"Not..."

He was checked.

"Not yet."

He lost the battle.

"Mmm... Hikigaya-kun... I like your resolve."

But not the war.

A gruesome epiphany

Realize

It was not

Coincidence.

The devil

Had caught him

Wage the battle

On the battlefield

Of her choosing.

She knew.

She knew

He was waiting

For her.

With that knowledge

A trap was set

Flanking maneuver

Stall him

Timed attack

Struck the cynic

At the opportune

Inopportune

Moment.

What can go wrong

Will go wrong.

And at the worst possible moment.

All this time

He was misled

Diversion

Yet

He was on the advance

Albeit

Wrong time.

Break off.

"She will not be broken that easily."

"You don't say?"

A dangerous grin formed on her lips.

"Miura-chan is quite the tough nut to crack."

"It's obvious. Pinning me in a dangerous position, and at the wrong time. It is too much of a cliché, Yumiko won't buy it."

"My my... oh, but her tears says otherwise."

His heart stung at the remark.

"What do you infer, a girl crying after seeing her beloved with a beautiful woman?"

Indeed, it was too much of a cliché.

Wrong place

Time

Prelude

Volatile reaction

Destruction.

He will not allow it.

"We're even now, Hikigaya-kun."

A sweet sing-song voice

Laced

Sinister backdrops.

"This is not a game anymore."

Her gaze became menacing.

"You're right. That is what makes it so... entertaining."

An image

Of a certain sage

Flashed in his mind.

"I'll see you around, Hiki-gaya-kun."

With that

She slipped away.

The cynic

Left to himself

Once more

Alone.

Leaning on the railing

Deep in thought

With a small frown

On his face.

Frustration.

Yet still

Resolve

Unbroken.

The devil had struck again.

Had it been different

Without witness

He could have won

Broke her façade.

Crush her resolve

Once and for all

Reveal

He

Never

And will

Love her.

Alas

It was a risky gamble

His tactics

Double edged

Now foiled

Pierced

The wrong

Heart.

Such tricks

Cannot simply

Break

An arrogant

Strong-willed

And with the careful tutelage

Of an ardent cynic

Wiser

Queen of fire.

He was relying

Not only

On his

But also

On her resolve.

Yet

There is always

Chance.

A calculable possibility

No matter how small

Difference

Of success

Or ruin.

She would not cry.

In the unlikely event

Such as what had just transpired

A blazing persona

Expected

To crash right into the scene.

But no.

Tears.

An ominous sign.

Only a chain of unfortune

Enough to incite

A weak reaction.

It will not be enough

To destroy

A close friendship.

But a delicate step to romanticism?

He had been warned.

During the transition

To a higher

Intimate relationship

A weak point

Vulnerable

To deadly intervention.

The walls are weakest

When the gates

Are open.

But for a certain machiavellian

It was merely

Zugzwang

Force a reaction

To her advantage.

It was not meant to break.

Only to provoke.

It was not her

Who will move

To seize victory.

It was him

Who will bring

About his own defeat.

One cannot

Secure victory.

Only can he

Secure himself

From defeat.