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.
