CHAPTER XVII

…

Kawasaki Saki was not just a hustler - she was a fighter. Hachiman inwardly admitted that back then, he didn't really know where he stood with her. She was very reserved, but being a loner isn't exactly a bad thing. For Kawasaki, it was what separated her from the rest of them. She had to be stronger, faster and smarter on her toes than her rivals. She studied hard, read a lot, and her daily grind did not end after school let out. A martial arts athlete, with experience in judo, karate, aikido and multiple other sports, she was a varsity member at Kanda University.

After witnessing her deal with two troublesome men in a bar with brutal decisiveness, Hachiman knew Kawasaki wasn't one to mess around either. She was patient, but she could be fierce as well. She was sharp, and she sensed the slightest amount of trouble if there was any. If a guy messed with her, she'd grab his tie and slam his chin on a table before the guy even knew he was in a war. There was no question about it, Hachiman thought, Kawasaki could be the nicest girl you could meet in a cafe but then she could blow you away in a barroom brawl.

Hachiman leaned against a wall as he watched Kawasaki fight her fellow Judo club members. She went to her dojo in Makuharicho, training three times a week, on the weekends as well if her schedule allowed for it. It was evident that Kawasaki honed her skills to professional levels, but the truth was that it was simply her lifestyle and a way for her to stay fit.

Kawasaki noticed Hachiman's presence and, after soundly beating her latest opponent, stepped off the mat and walked towards him. Her skin glistened and sweat trickled down her forehead, neck and along the curves of her chest before being absorbed by her white judogi. As she rubbed her silvery hair with a towel, she thought that this wasn't a coincidence and Hachiman might've followed him here. Regardless, she greeted him brusquely.

"Let's spar."

Hachiman stared at her. "You want to fight me?"

Kawasaki chuckled, smiling. "What's the matter? You took up aikido in our third year, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but you're a black belter. I'm hardly qualified for the nikyu. Don't you think it's a mismatch?" he said sheepishly.

"Nonsense. If you went on for one more year, you could've gotten shodan easily," she said. "Don't worry, I'll go easy on you. Or are you too much of a wimp?" she pouted mockingly.

Hachiman decided that after going out of his way to see what Kawasaki was up to - on the pretext of offering her a job in their 'wholesaling' business in the Chiba port - and following her to this dojo, he might as well accept her challenge. "Fine, I'll bite," he smirked.

Hachiman took off his jacket and shoes, exposing a plain T-shirt underneath. They both stepped onto the mat, and Hachiman and Kawasaki began to size each other up, slowly engaging inside the ring. He thought of how reminiscent the circumstances were with a similar match between him and a fiery friend of his. He noticed that the other students were looking at him incredulously, the same way the students at the kendo dojo looked when he was about to spar with Yumiko.

Granted, Hachiman wasn't very good at kendo and had gotten his ass handed to him by Yumiko, but he wasn't without any skill. He knew he was above average in aikido, and had risen to the class of nikyu in little over a year, which was quite remarkable for a student. But he only did it to fill the requirements of physical education and to take his mind off things. He didn't really know how far he could go if he went all in.

Hachiman put both of his arms up and planted his feet firmly on the mat, apart just as he'd been taught. He faced his rival, as Kawasaki began to inch towards him. He knew he was the underdog in this fight, but there were a few advantages: he was the one anticipating an attack, and was solid with his ability to defend. And he had some experience in brawls - he did have to endure and learn how to block Yumiko's sucker punches when she exploded from time to time, so he was fairly confident in fighting a clean match.

Kawasaki sprung forward and swung her leg over, delivering a graceful roundhouse kick. Hachiman easily blocked it. Still, he flinched a bit, surprised at the force. The fight continued. The longer it went on, the more he settled in and developed a comfortable stance, his martial arts lessons finally coming back to his mind. He evaded and repelled her strikes, and easily swatted away her attempts to catch him in a lock.

When he took a wide step forward, she performed a powerful back kick which caught him square in the chest. Hachiman saw it coming, but his reflexes were not good enough. He recoiled backwards, letting out a cough and catching his breath.

Kawasaki laughed. "Are we fighting or are we playing tag? Come on, hit me. Show me your aikido."

Hachiman furrowed his eyebrows. "Just so you know, aikido is more of a self-defensive art."

"Even that, you're not very good at," she teased. "But that's not all you've got, remember? Back in high school during the tournament, you almost gave the judo captain a run for his money. Use that."

"I don't enjoy hitting women," he muttered.

This ticked her off. Kawasaki frowned. "Oh, that so?" she began to move. "I guess I'll just have to force your hand."

She launched a succession of swift punches at him which was finished with a strong kick. He skirted a few more blows before catching a strike squarely. When Hachiman staggered, flailing his arms to balance himself, she sensed an opening and went for his neck. But this was his plan all along. The same way he riled up the old judo captain in high school, he was now goading Kawasaki into neglecting her defense and going all in. This was the moment he'd been waiting for.

Hachiman stopped her hand before it reached him and with a firm hold, twisted it. Kawasaki was stunned, her eyes widening. Before she could react, his elbow already came down on her collarbone and she lost her balance. She fell down hard on the ground. Hachiman was on her, pinning her with a choke hold.

"That's one," he finally smiled.

Kawasaki grinned back at him, giving a stubborn expression. With a sudden motion, she swept aside his hand and completely broke his hold. After another fluid movement, she had entangled his legs and now forced him down on the floor. She emerged on top, victorious.

"Don't celebrate too early, love," she purred breathily before getting off him.

Hachiman merely sighed, nodding. Kawasaki offered her hand, which he took, and pulled him up. "What're you up to today?" she asked.

"As of the moment, nothing," he said. "Do you wanna go and sit down at my joint? I happen to be running the RePublic club in Fujimi now."

Kawasaki was impressed. She clicked her tongue, gazing at him fondly. "Sure, that'd be swell."

They both went downtown and had a few glasses together. It was a pleasant Thursday afternoon, not too cold and windy and the weather was clear. Hachiman felt comfortable with her, and the feeling was mutual. They both shared pasts after all, and whatever ill will they had against each other was by now merely water under the bridge. After a couple piña coladas, Kawasaki was more agreeable. She revealed her plans after she graduates from college.

"You want to be a pilot?" Hachiman was incredulous, giggling at the notion.

Kawasaki was annoyed. "Don't laugh at me," she said bashfully. "You wait and see. Besides, I've been reading up on stuff."

"How often do you think planes crash?" he enthused.

"Obviously, only once," she quipped. They both shared a laugh. "And I think the reason why they don't have parachutes on commercial airlines is because not only is it impractical, it's also that dead people can't sue the company," she chuckled. "Forget the superstitious brace position."

"Well, I mean when you're slamming against the side of a mountain at five hundred miles per hour, the brace position does fuck-all."

They chuckled, and both settled down and were thoughtful for a minute. Hachiman sighed, content. As she sat in front of him, Hachiman couldn't help but look at Kawasaki fondly, as if reminiscing certain cherished memories. She swept a strand of hair behind her ear as her soft lips sipped on her piña colada. She caught him staring of course and they locked eyes tersely.

"You have such pretty purple eyes. Like Elizabeth Taylor," Hachiman whispered.

Kawasaki scoffed, furrowing her eyebrows incredulously.

"The actress, you know?" he added.

Kawasaki shot him a disdainful look, though the blush on her cheeks betrayed her. She muttered, "what, are you trying to flirt with me now?"

"If that's flirting to you already, then you haven't seen nothing yet. Come here," he said, motioning with a finger for her to move closer. "Now," he insisted. Kawasaki sighed and begrudgingly leaned closer to find out what Hachiman was on about, when she felt something hot on her cheek. Hachiman pressed his lips against her cheek and stole a kiss from the corner of her mouth. The reaction was instantaneous, and Kawasaki jerked back, shocked.

"You bastard," she seethed, growing red with indignance. Hachiman merely smirked at her, pinching his lower lip between his fingers in treacherous meditation. "W-Why?" she demanded.

"Do you remember our first?"

"W-Which one?" she cautiously asked. This elicited a soft giggle from Hachiman.

"Well, you can decide which to tell me."

"Enough games! Of course I remember, how could I forget… but why do this now?"

"You don't like it?" Kawasaki did not allow Hachiman to deflect her question. He finally said, "I'm being friendly, that's all. Or do you imagine something else?" he watched her blush profusely.

"If that's all, then you're doing a shit job at it. You'll be the death of me," she mumbled. Hachiman kept studying her, grinning triumphantly. This irked her, and Kawasaki had an intense urge to just push that big ass against the wall and smother him.

Hachiman stopped and checked his phone. He fell quiet, walked around and brushed himself off, planning to head somewhere. Kawasaki sensed this, and asked reluctantly, "you're free tonight?"

"Unfortunately not. What about tomorrow?"

"I can't, I've got jobs to be doing. Let's get a drink, Saturday?"

He agreed wholeheartedly. "That'll be great. Actually, while we're at it let's go have dinner."

Kawasaki giggled. "Are you asking me out?" she mused.

Hachiman shrugged guiltily. He started, "well, I mean- " but Kawasaki cut him off. Her smile already gave away her answer.

…

Back in the Ieyori household, the boss had just arrived after receiving an urgent request from his second-in-command, Hanzo Ieyori. Hachiman rubbed his shoes against a rug before entering through the front door and strolling into the house where he was met. His presence needed no announcement as the people present in the room immediately took notice, and they all filed into the dining room ceremoniously. Mama Imoguiri had made herself scarce, holding an aversion towards these kinds of matter and although she would not hesitate to intervene, she trusted Hachiman enough to handle matters eloquently.

The mood was solemn and those present were Kenji Isshiki, Mutsuhiro Fukushi, Matsudo Jen and the two lieutenants under the direct command of Hachiman: Donato Ichijou and Narita Rengou. Henry Winfield, another old friend of theirs from the cabstand down the street was also present, and he gave a curt bow towards the boss when he appeared. Hachiman asked shortly, "Have you got the lines installed?"

"Yes sire. The phones are encrypted and run through a satellite. You can make international calls, and it's guaranteed that the line isn't going to be tapped," Winnie said, gesturing towards a black telephone set on the table. "Unless you've got the PSIA hot after you. Mr. Bo wants to discuss, should I connect him through?" he added.

"No. I'll meet with him in person, ask him to give me Monday."

The boss walked over to the table in the middle of the dining room, where instead of supper, there were papers, folders and ledgers and a laptop plugged to a set which appeared to be a portable CPU. These indicated their financial records and a named list of key figures. Hachiman ran his eyes over the articles keenly and meticulously, as if inspecting a chess puzzle on a board. Hanzo stepped beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder persuasively.

"Hachiman, we have to make our move now. More of our people could get hurt if we don't. Remember the old lady's funeral we went to the other day? The black guy that was murdered in the pier a couple months ago during our takeover was her son. I pity the woman, that was the last thing she needed! Mr. Sieyes on the behalf of his community wishes that you take care of things now."

"And we will," Hachiman said. "All in good time."

Kenji Isshiki, the third-in-command in the central faction of the Chiba Outfit, stated the recent events. "There's suspicious movement on the streets, and our folks are talking about men, who ain't from here, coming and slinking around. It's highly likely they're Yakuza informants."

"They're probing us, boss. If they haven't launched a hit they've probably set up a mattress room somewhere already," Winnie said.

Hanzo said, "When is that? We've waited long enough. It's time to give the first strike, and we have more than enough information. We can take out the Inagawa-kai leadership with one powerful attack. We have collaborators inside the Inagawa-kai who are willing to side with us at the moment war breaks out, and the other Yakuza clans are willing to acknowledge us, but you have to show them that our familia is powerful."

Mutsuhiro Fukushi said, "I agree with Hanzo-kun. We have the upper hand."

Hachiman turned to his lieutenants. "I would like to hear your opinions. You were once part of the Ichihara-kai, no? What do you say of this?"

Donato Ichijou spoke first. "I have no say in it, sire. However my crew is completely at your disposal."

"What about you, Rengou-san?"

Narita Rengou answered. "Completely at your disposal," Narita repeated. "That is simply my duty, and in doing so I learn from you."

Hachiman nodded, pleased. He looked around and stated nonchalantly, "we need all the time we can get to fill our coffers so that when the war breaks out, we have money to use. We will need it to finance the effort and to protect ourselves, which is very important. Logistically speaking, we are not yet prepared for a potentially protracted conflict."

"Amateurs talk about strategy, but professionals talk logistics," Matsudo Jen spoke up. "Hikigaya-san has a point in delaying our move. Fighting conflicts are disastrous and expensive and do not benefit anyone at all. Hiring 'professionals' cost a lot of money, and to take out a huge rival figure? If we're going in, we had better be prepared. It's just the art of war."

Fukushi shot a glare at Matsudo. "Are you suddenly Sun Tzu now?" he scoffed. "Get out of here with your art of war."

Hachiman promptly silenced them both. "Enough is enough," he said coldly. "The appropriate move at the moment is to wait."

Winnie said more urgently, "we're having problems already. The negotiations with the construction job in Minamicho fell through. Some of our foremen and associates just got kicked out of the unions. We might lose several hundred million yen, possibly all if we can't make the Shimizu company concede. They've just merged with the Yukinoshitas, and we can't touch them now without risking a serious legal intervention."

Winnie explained that while the Irish Union, hailing all the way from Ireland, and which he was a senior member of, were independent, the mergers occurring between the construction companies in Chiba prefecture were beginning to seriously affect them. The only way to force the companies to concede to them was to create desperation - the Chiba Outfit rigged construction bids, inserted no-show jobs and skimmed the funds for the projects, and responded viciously when their demands were not met; but when a merger occurs with a big corporation such as the Yukinoshita Holdings, their protective umbrella were extended to the merging company - and these mergers were destroying that carefully devised sense of desperation necessary for their schemes to work.

The Yukinoshita Holdings were more than capable enough of inflicting severe penalties against a formidable mob such as the Chiba Outfit. The Yukinoshitas had more connections and political clout - they were the ones who put judges up on stage; they influenced the mayors and the prefectural Diet; they have the police agency under their thumb, and the Chief Prosecutor Miura Sanada was apparently aligned to the Yukinoshitas. Even the boss Hachiman could only bribe cops; the Yukinoshitas owned them. That was why they couldn't target companies which merged with the Yukinoshita Holdings corporation - it would be stepping on the dragon's tail. And to lose influence of construction companies was to lose money. Even a spontaneous labor union strike would be swiftly silenced.

The following piece of news brought even more bad taste to the table and upset everyone:

"What's worse, we learned from an inside informant of ours that the police are building an indictment against several of our associates and including you, Ieyori-san and Hikigaya-sama."

"Son-of-a-bitch," Hanzo cursed under his breath. He did not forget about the chief inspector of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department and the impending judgement Saburo Oreki was due to bring upon.

An unwelcome police visit to one of their warehouses, another illegal gambling indictment on a casino, and of course the notorious stolen consignment of firearms - which were almost found out after a close call with a police crackdown - were only a few of the numerous problems beginning to pop up and put the Outfit at stake.

Hanzo sighed morosely. "What's your call, brother?" Hanzo glanced at Hachiman.

Hachiman paused for a bit, meditating carefully. He answered with serene deliberation. "I'll deal with it."

"But how? Our connections are falling apart. Some of these cops and fucking lawyers, they'll jump ship at the first sign of trouble. And we're burning so much money on these fucks that profits are looking dire. We've blown three-fourths of the money from the 3 billion yen job, and that's not to say we're left with enough. We're not on a winning streak anymore. Almost half of uncle's connections are gone or useless after you took over, and these guys won't follow you Hachiman if you don't demonstrate your power," Hanzo said. "We've got to do something and something quick."

"And that's what we're going to do," Hachiman said. "I'll gather more insider information to find out how we can check the Yukinoshitas." the boss began issuing his directions and dictating the course of action they were about to take. "Kenji, Donato and Narita, you all know what to do," he said. They all nodded confidently. "Hanzo, I want you to take over and handle our business. I'll deal with the politics myself."

"You watch yourself out there. And that Yukinoshita girl we keep seeing?" Hanzo said in a low voice. "She's bad news, I'm telling you. Deal with her and push them out of the way, or else we'll have a fiasco down the road."

The discussion was interrupted by the ringing of the telephone. Hachiman sat down at the table and promptly answered, picking up the handset to his ears. Listening a bit, he turned to Hanzo and extended his hand to him. "It's Ieyori-san, Hanzo. Do you want the phone?"

Hanzo accepted earnestly and a pleased grin materialized on his face. He started talking, asking his uncle and momentarily going off on a trivial tangent before saying, "okay, adios tio. Mama will call you later, now here's Hikio." he returned the phone to Hachiman's hand.

Hachiman began to listen quietly, his expressions delicately varying at times. His eyelids were slightly wrinkled, as if straining to focus, and he was rubbing his fingers together. He leaned back into his chair and rested his hand on the edge of the table. "Yes Ieyori-san," he said. "I'll take care of it… don't worry, I'll watch out for the family… sayonara."

Finally he placed the phone back in its cradle. He stood up and turned around, promptly dismissing his subordinates in the room, but asked Hanzo and Kenji to stay. The two sensed something amiss and was suspicious. Hachiman had sent away his two lieutenants, and there were only three of them left in the dining room. The boss spoke quietly.

"Gentlemen, I've just received critical information. We may have a double-crosser among us."

…

Hikigaya Hachiman once again appeared at a social gathering hosted by none other than the Yukinoshitas. He took additional measures regarding his appearance so as to ensure was not ridiculed again, and this time wore the dark blue, three-piece pinstripe suit that he designated solely for such events. He wore a fine bowtie to complete his gentlemanly attire, and before entering the hall Hachiman handed over his overcoat and hat to the bellhop.

His hair slick with gel and swept back, and having just shaved with a razor before setting off, his person was not overly striking but nor was it monotone. Hachiman cut a clean figure as he strolled into the party, and already guests - some of which were his business acquaintances - turned to meet him. A small clique of neatly dressed gentlemen welcomed him and though they were all much older than him, they allowed him into the circle.

"Ah, there he is. The newest member of the union committee, Hikigaya-san."

"So he is! He's really young then, and holding such a position?" another man enthused.

"He's worked his way up. I'll vouch he's a self-made man." a third murmured to his friend.

Hachiman of course caught all pieces of the conversation with his keen ear, and smiled at them. "I don't believe in self-made men. However, it's by my own will that I made myself," he stated, maintaining a delicate balance of humility and confidence. They all shared a laugh and continued being cordial with each other. They shook hands, patted each other's shoulders in admiration and acknowledged boasts and triumphs.

Hachiman inwardly admitted that he was already a master at piloting this shell of faux elegance and charisma during these charades of an event. He'd learned a lot, especially from a certain riajuu friend of his, whom he often observed with fondness and imitated her iconic social magnetism. Of course an imitation can never be better than the original, but as Hachiman liked to cite, 'those who do not want to imitate anything, produce nothing.'

The importance of socializing always reappeared before him, as now he and his associates were challenged to maintain their newfound standings in the business and political world. First and foremost, money was Hachiman's concern. The Chiba Outfit needed finances in order to function, and especially now that times were becoming bleak, they needed to secure their logistics. They were facing a possible war on one front after all. Second, after having conceived an alliance with the Funabori Corporation - and essentially the Miura family - only a few days ago, Hachiman now had to face the Yukinoshitas and the Hayamas and their respective allies, as aligning with the Miura family placed them opposite to the Yukinoshitas. Once, the three big families were tied together into a triumvirate, but now they were back to being strong rivals with conflicting interests.

He glanced around, champagne in hand to add to his disguise, looking for his object of interest - or rather, his only real interest in these events. Aside from the task of conniving with his fellow union board members, Hachiman always liked to steal a glance at her whenever the opportunity presented itself. There she is again, and the opportunity did present itself.

The younger of the Yukinoshita sisters was standing among a clique of young ladies, and even better it seemed that at this event her fiance was not present. Hachiman confidently made a beeline towards Yukino, somehow having a gut feeling that a certain someone was going to intervene before he succeeded, and sure enough he was stopped in his tracks when a woman suddenly walked in front of him. It was Haruno Yukinoshita, turning her head to glance at him playfully, as if by pure coincidence.

Haruno's rosy eyes were seemingly innocent but it was surreptitious in nature. She was testing him once more. "Excuse me," she drawled. "So you're here again. And where are you going?"

Hachiman returned with a pleasant look. "Good evening. And you? I expected to find you again here."

"Did you now?" Haruno said. Hachiman grinned, admiring her nonchalantly. "You're forgetting something, don't you think?"

He clicked his tongue. "Of course," he murmured to himself.

Haruno was slightly surprised when he leaned closer to her face and kissed her cheek. Hachiman turned to kiss the other, his hands now lightly pressing her arms and holding her in still. Haruno furrowed her eyebrows, bashful. "Aside from that, you're forgetting your place," she criticized harshly.

"My place? I don't recall subscribing to the idea of classism."

"I thought as much."

"Your fiance is not by your side again."

"Don't tell me you're more interested in Hayato-kun?"

Hachiman shook his head gently. "I'm not. The feeling is mutual, I suppose?" he said. They spent several more moments staring down each other, understanding well what the other was on at. He looked down on her haughtily and whispered, "there's a dance, so if you'll excuse me, I'm going to ask her myself."

Haruno stepped closer imposingly. "There's a glamorous woman in front of you. Are you not going to ask her to dance?" she asked in a low voice.

Haruno was intentionally blocking his path, and Hachiman determined that she wasn't about to capitulate. "Well because I pity that nobody else asked you," Hachiman said cynically, "Come. I'll entertain you." he took her by the hand and led her down the floor.

Hachiman renounced his timidity and hesitation at that moment and held Haruno closer, clasping her thin, silky fingers in his left hand and squeezing it as he guided her arm forward. His other arm found their way and wrapped behind her waist, sensually appealing as it is, and his hand settled on the small of her back. Haruno breathed. The contact was electric, and it sent a tingling, pleasant sensation through her body. The atmosphere seemed to become much more heated. They began to dance, moving around in semi-circles, stepping and shifting smoothly to the slow music on the linoleum floor. The orchestra had just begun to shift their tempo and swing a sexy rendition of Sway With Me. The mood was profound, as the graceful vocals of a woman filled the place.

It was true that nobody else dared to ask Haruno Yukinoshita to dance, as she was too proud, superior and invulnerable in her own respect. She was perfect in her own tall, shapely, elegant way. Hachiman knew this and, inwardly, he was aroused at the notion of holding a gorgeous and powerful woman in his arms, just to spite all the men watching them contemptuously. The darker side of his mind which Sigmund Freud identified as the Id would love to just fuck her, bring her down and break her. Hachiman simply entertained the thought - there was something unbearably erotic in ruining something perfect; it was like taking black spray paint to a Botticelli painting. Haruno also had her own share of fantasies, most of which involved looking down on and humiliating this pretentious cynic in front of her. Everyone was noticing, and at this fact Haruno also reveled in.

None of this escaped the sharp, judicious eyes of Mrs. Yukinoshita. From a table where her aristocratic peers sat, she watched with curiosity and skepticism, as she always does, as her eldest daughter danced with another young man, who she immediately recognized as Hikigaya Hachiman. It was the kid who once caused a troublesome mishap to them by getting himself hurt on the road for something so insignificant as a dog. This revelation brought all sorts of nuances up, and needless to say Mrs. Yukinoshita was more vexed than pleased.

The young man in question was irrelevant and already long behind them, having been assured that her younger daughter had broken off with him, but Mrs. Yukinoshita decided that if left unchecked, he could pose a hindrance in one way or another. Mrs. Yukinoshita was perfectly aware of Hachiman's relationship with her younger daughter and was already prepared to intervene and deliberately sever Yukino's ties, but this was new. Was this of Haruno's own doing, she wondered well. She thought that she'd already put her eldest daughter in her place, but it seemed she would have to do it again.

Mrs. Yukinoshita did not hold Hikigaya Hachiman in high regards, and she wasn't fond of ambitious aficionados, who thought and felt entitled to simply waltz into their world and disturb their status quo. She respected talent and genius, but when such gifts are used to shake up the balance of the hierarchy of order, it no longer remains a gift, but a curse. To her, order was everything; without it, chaos ensues. And the most important, fundamental rule in societal order is to understand your place. Some would call it toxic conservatism, but Mrs. Yukinoshita begged to differ - it was simply natural law. It was the government. It was life.

There are those in the upper-class, and there are those in the lower-class. Everybody belongs to a certain caste, and each has their own obligations to attend to; and the obligation of those belonging to the lower-class is to obey. And from obedience is born order, and from order good flourishes.

Hikigaya Hachiman did not belong in the position he is in right now. Hachiman did not understand his place. By disrespecting the hierarchy of order, he is destroying it. And what is the obligation of the upper-class but to guide the lower-class to the correct path? Thus, Mrs. Yukinoshita is obligated to put Hikigaya Hachiman in his place.

Hachiman and Haruno continued to be subtly observed and silently judged by those around them, but they paid little heed as they were ensconced in their own moment. They were both courting each other in a mind game of eloquence. Haruno did not feel the need to conceal her true nature as much when she was with Hachiman, and her eyes, seductive as they were, carried with it a certain dark, ruthless look.

"You've got some nerve. I thought I told you to lay off Yukino-chan already because you're being a pest."

"Oh yes?" Hachiman mused. "But I'm being a friend to her."

"Yukino-chan doesn't need any more friends, especially one who's just coming around right when she's moved on. But I can't blame you, really. Even if by some stroke of luck she didn't fall out of love with you, you think it's acceptable for her to be with some like you?"

"What do you mean someone like me? Huh?" Hachiman said coldly, his smile replaced by a cynical look. "Someone from the gutter, who didn't happen to be born with a silverware stuck in their mouth? Haruno dear, I told you already that I don't believe in classism."

"Well excuse me," Haruno whispered. "I didn't know you were quite sensitive regarding your social status."

Hachiman was exasperated, though he did not show. Not immediately aware, he spontaneously held her body closer as they moved across the dance floor, stepping in and out and turning around, their bosoms grazing against each other. Haruno stared at him from the corner of her eyes, their faces awfully close.

"What's the matter with you, sweetheart? You're good-looking, you've got a beautiful body, beautiful legs, a beautiful face, and you're smarter than most of them. All these other gents, they're keeling over you. Only the matter is, you keep acting like you're constantly on your period. Or rather, haven't gotten laid in a month."

Haruno shot him a resentful glare. Hachiman smirked, noticing her cheeks flush up in a rare display of vulnerability. His grin widened. "Don't tell me you haven't," he mused. "When was the last time you've had some loving? Last two, three months? Or could it be- "

Haruno finally dropped much of her facade and displayed her own heartlessness, her rosy eyes turning more cruel. She said in an icy voice, "listen to me you brat. Who, when, how and why I fuck is none of your businesses, okay?"

Hachiman was pleased. "Now you're talking to me, sweetheart. I like that, keep it coming."

"Don't call me 'sweetheart'," she growled. "I'm not your sweetheart."

"Not yet, so you need to give me some time."

"Let's get one thing straight: whatever this game you're trying to play, it won't work. And right now you might feel like you're mighty clever and set, but you've no idea." Haruno gazed at him with a dry, almost sad smile. "You remind me much of myself. I was eighteen then, and at that age you feel all inspired. You think you could set out on your own, but when you get crushed and beaten down before you've had the chance to make a move you'll realize the errors you've made. Of course, regret always comes at the same time: too late. You watch yourself."

"Look," Hachiman said after a minute of silence, "Haruno, I was simply being friendly with you. I know that I've been a bit of an asshole- "

"And an arrogant prick."

"Yes," he laughed softly, "since we've been meeting lately, but to be honest I'd love our relationship to be a little smoother. I like you as well, and I think both of us would do well to be on the same page."

Haruno gave a curt smile. She teased demurely, "I appreciate your mea culpa, Hachiman, so I'm here for you, a kind-hearted ally who's willing to stand by you, and I hope you'll return the favor. But I want to remind you before there are any misunderstandings that I'm a taken woman." He glanced at her with an understanding look, and they continued their dance.

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I'm glad to have finished this, because the next chapter is going to be pretty challenging to write and I'm busy this week, I'll need more time so it might be released late..