Ah, Haruno- everyone's favourite vindictive manipulator. She's my favourite Oregairu character excluding 8man/Yukino, and my favourite one to write bar none, so you can imagine how long I've wanted to write a Haruno POV fic. But for ages I could never think of a plot or conflict to base the story around, other than this vague notion of a night out, and wanting it to include 8man.

Once I found an inner conflict within Haruno to drive the story forward- this idea of her denying herself happiness- the story finally came to life. 8man and Haruno would almost certainly be a toxic relationship (of that I have no doubt), and for this premise to work I had to almost fully remove Yukino from the equation. Nonetheless, this was a fun exercise in writing Haruno's character beyond her surface level dialogue, and I can't help but imagine what an earth-shattering catastrophe a genuine (or rather, un-genuine) 8man/Haruno relationship would be.

An age old question: what does Yukinoshita Haruno want? Is it really just a fun night out? (Haruno POV, twoshot)

A Fun Night Out

Part 1:

My favourite drink is red wine. White has never agreed with me, although I'm no arbiter of taste on the matter. My interest is more 'will it get me drunk?' rather than 'will it taste nice?'. Will I ever be a wine connoisseur? No. But I don't care about that.

Red wine does taste nicer though, so I order a glass. The hangover is more than worth it, in my humble opinion. The barman, dressed in smart black attire, takes a long look at my cleavage as I order. He isn't as subtle about it as he thinks. When you look as good as I do, you pick up on the signs.

"Like what you see?" I ask dryly. He coughs and writes down my order with a muttered gomenasai. Men. What a simple breed of people they are.

Well, I suppose the fact he's looking is more irritating than insulting. I'd consider it more reproachful if the waiter hadn't stared, when I've put in extra effort to look my best. Not that the extra effort is required.

There is a large mirror behind the bar, the size of a Monet canvas, and I occupy the time by looking at the woman in the glass. Wow: her taste in fashion is absolutely fabulous! A dark purple body-con dress really brings out the colour of her eyes, themselves highlighted by that tasteful mascara. Her hair has recently been cut; it's glossy and radiant in the light. An elegant necklace funnels eyes towards her neck, and lower. Her lipstick is purple too, but even darker. Make no mistake: compared to everyone else at the bar, the show has been stolen.

The bar in question is one of my favourites. It's fancy enough to attract the right sort of people, which also attracting the wrong sort. The former is synonymous with being dull, after all, and the latter with being interesting. I like a balance.

Many a fun night out in my life has started here. I'll usually leave this place with some poor man on my arm, like two ships leaving harbour onto an ocean of possibilities. Oh, and the resultant shipwreck? Well, as long as one gets back to harbour, I'd say it's fine.

Ah… a fun night out! What a prospect! It's been awhile. Nothing but work and work, family and family, for weeks and weeks. Calling it a drag isn't even accurate- it's been an absolute heave.

I need to unwind. More so than usual. Let loose the hinges and fall apart.

Well. Maybe not fall apart. Let's just stick with the word 'unwind'. And this time, on this night out, I don't have to worry about that insufferable bore Hagiwara-kun.

What a disappointment he turned out to be. I'm not quite sure what I envisioned after we had sex, but it wasn't that. I suppose I should've anticipated it; the answer to a question is never as interesting as your idea of it.

But Hagiwara-kun rather intrigued me the first time we met. I was at the dinner party of an old friend from university- Hagiwara-san, as a matter of fact. His Nee-san. Well, I'd been vaguely aware she had a brother, but I'd never met him. Us and a few others were just catching up over drinks and a meal (Hagiwara-san is a great cook), when all of a sudden, her younger brother joined us.

Hagiwara-kun had been crashing at his sister's apartment for a couple of weeks, inbetween jobs and places to stay. I sized him up quickly as the nerdy, shut-in, hikikomori type. My first impressions are, most of the time, unnervingly accurate. But as we spoke, I found myself proven wrong. Despite his unremarkable looks, lack of a proper job, and of any apparent plan in life, Hagiwara-kun proved to be… rather charismatic. He was witty, charming, and on account of our first night together, very familiar with women.

That contrast surprised me. I wondered what it was that made him tick. Why on earth was Hagiwara-kun, who could do so much with his life, actively choosing to do nothing?

Well, the answer proved logical and yawnsome. People with an ego always struggle to fulfil their inflated sense of themselves. Hagiwara-kun could have taken on any job he pleased, but was only satisfied with being the best. That poor first impression had haunted him. There was always someone out there who could offer more. In career, and in love. And his ego meant he could never abide doing something, or someone, below him.

Arrogant people are, in my experience, entertaining. They react to things in funny ways, and do funny things. But they get boring quickly. Especially when demand and neediness, a desire to have their ego affirmed, come into play.

So, he proved to be another disappointment. Another insufferable bore who might have been sufferable. But having dumped him, there's nothing more to be disappointed about. It's always better to leave a party early than late.

I take another sip of my red wine. Looking down into the crystalline glass, and swirling it lightly as if I were a sommelier, I realise I can almost see my reflection. Not quite, but almost. Or maybe I'm imagining it. The glass is almost empty.

Hmm… anyone interesting here? I glance up and down the bar. No one's dared to hit on me yet. What on earth is taking so long?

There's the man in his mid-to-late twenties, like me, who's been giving me the eye since he sat down. But he hasn't walked up, or bought me a drink, or done anything other than attempt in vain to catch my eye. Not very confident, maybe? No, he's well-dressed, and decent looking enough. A certain type of girl would be drooling over him. Perhaps he's just nice, or presumes to be respectful towards women. We'll see how long that lasts.

There's also the older woman, who I've seen here on several occasions. At first I didn't pay her much attention, but she has one of those interesting, oddly conspicuous faces you commit to memory. In her youth, she must have been a beauty. I wonder how many ended up falling in love with her. Anyway, I've decided she's a lesbian, or bisexual, given how conspicuous she seems to find me in return. What is she, late forties? Older? You can't quite tell.

Anyone else? Seems to be dry pickings today… I polish off my wine glass and blow my lips like a horse, before ordering another. If there's no one promising here, I'll just have to go elsewhere-

Oh no, wait… I didn't notice him at first. The man on the opposite side of the bar.

That's odd. I wonder why my attentions passed him over… Well… I suppose he's wearing dark clothes, nothing fancy, and his posture is hunched: the 'I-do-nothing-but-sit-at-an-office-all-day' posture. That, or just his own computer. But surely you'd only come to a bar like this if you had a little yen to spare?

What is he drinking, I wonder… A lager, but quite a nice brand. Reasonable enough. And he's making swift progress on it… Has something gone awry in his life? A bar is the best place to visit when things go awry. I know that very well. Another piece to the puzzle has been added, but… My… Those eyes!

Hah! That's hilarious! I'm not sure I've ever seen such a revolting pair of eyes! That's honestly impressive. I imagine if a dead fish could frown, it would something like that. What an image! This dead fish in particular must have been greatly inconvenienced by being caught. He must have been a very cynical, misanthropic fish, who refused on principle to be part of a shoal. A lone wolf kinda fish. Hah!

I rest my head on my hand, smirking, peering at him over the bar. What's even more amusing is that he'd be quite good-looking if not for the eyes. Well… maybe not 'good looking', but symmetrical. He has a jaw-line. He has nice, broad shoulders. If he bothered to work out, put some decent clothes on, a pair of sunglasses… then he'd be good looking. But none of those things are true, unfortunately.

Instead, he's just the most interesting person at the bar. Except for me, of course. Quite the catch.

Fishy-san has just finished his lager. He glances down at the dregs, scowling, but doesn't make to order another. He stares off into the distance, lost in thought. Yep, something has definitely gone awry. What though?

I like these sort of questions. They're fun to me. I imagine the answer will be a girl- a break up of some kind- but the particulars of a break up that sends one of its participants straight to a bar is bound to be entertaining.

I decide to introduce myself. Let's see how sufferable he proves to be.

I call the waiter over, who to my amusement is now looking everywhere, anywhere except my breasts. Smirking, I point over to Fishy-san.

"Be a darling and get that man over there a drink. Something stronger than a lager. You choose. It's on me."

He nods and scurries away, and after some deliberation, starts on a cocktail I don't even recognise. It looks lovely though- I'll probably order one afterwards.

The waiter puts the drink right in front of Fishy-san, who looks up from his dregs in surprise. He raises his eyebrow at the waiter, who apologises, and explains I've bought him the cocktail. He looks around the waiter, directly at me… and snorts. I see him take in my appearance, turn back to the waiter and say something to the effect of, "Yeah, right…".

But the waiter insists otherwise, and leaves. Fishy-san glances between the drink and me, the drink and me, frowning. I grin at his expression of disbelief, and give him a cute wave.

It's one of the funniest things to do at a bar- buy a guy a drink. They're so used to being the one who buys the drink, and to the subsequent rejection, that the reverse instantly has them like dough in your hands. But Fishy-san appears to have decided I'm just teasing him. With a deeper scowl than before, he returns to the dregs. And he's absolutely right: I am teasing him. But I also intend to follow up on it.

"Waiter? I'll have one of those too. Bring it to our friend there."

The waiter nods, his eyes still treating the sight of my breasts like an imminent death sentence. I move off the stool and check my reflection again, in the mirror behind the bar. Still dazzling… that was the impression I was going for tonight. Maybe something else would work better on Fishy-san, but we'll have to wait and see. I smile at myself, and then walk over to my new friend.

The middle-aged woman and the man who'd been trying to catch my eye look up. I wink at the latter as I pass; he flushes.

But Fishy-san doesn't notice me approaching until I'm almost on top of him. Just what is it about those dregs he finds so entrancing? Upstaged by an empty pint glass? I don't think so.

"Good evening," I say cheerily, resting my elbow on the bar and peering right into Fishy-san's disgusting pupils. "How's the cocktail?"

"… Why do you ask?"

His voice is monotone. Baritone, but it gives the impression of being a bass. Kinda what I'd expected. And up close, I find myself increasingly divided on whether he's cute. The eyes are, like, the biggest turn off in history, but that's the biggest blemish by far, and I wouldn't have noticed him without them. Better to be noticeable than forgettable.

"Well, I did buy it for you. Imagine if the guy I have the biggest crush on didn't like the drink I bought?" I pout. "That would totally ruin my evening."

"… Is that so?" He glances down at the cocktail. His fingers touch the glass rim. "… Well, I've not tasted it yet, and I don't really intend to, so consider your evening saved."

"Rejecting a free drink? Why on earth would you commit such an atrocious crime?" Moving my elbow off the bar, I take the stool right next to him. "There are people out there who would kill to be in your position."

He snorts, looking increasingly bewildered, and annoyed, at my presence. "What, alcoholics?"

"Yes. And anyone with an appreciation for the finer things in life." I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, eyeing him, my smile bright. "Not that I'd claim to be one of those things."

"That… is exactly what you just claimed."

"Really? A slip of the tongue. I'm good at that."

Fishy-san eyes me, the cocktail, my dress, with the air of a man who'd been approached by a drunk conspiracy theorist rather than one of the most beautiful women he's ever seen. I make sure not to break our eye contact, or blink. They do say the eyes are the windows into the soul.

"… I'm assume there's a reason you've bought me a drink?"

"I believe I was quite clear about my reason. It's the enormous, heart-bursting crush I have on you! Moe, is this what love at first sight feels like?"

"For the sake of romantics everywhere, I hope not."

"Implying that you, Fishy-san, are not a romantic?"

"Fishy-san?"

"That's the flattering pet-name I've invented for you."

He wrinkles his nose. "I fail to see how 'Fishy-san' could possibly be flattering. And it's not even witty. Do you know how many times someone's compared my eyes to a fish?"

"Oh dear! I thought I was the great innovator. Still, I was thinking of a dark and dangerous fish. As sexy and brooding as a fish can be. You're like a shark or a barracuda, rather than a trout or a koi. Now do you see why 'Fishy-san' is flattering?"

"Dunno. Always felt like my real name is 'sexy' and 'brooding' enough. Go any further and women will literally be frothing at the mouth," he deadpanned.

And he can give as good as he gets! I hope that translates to other things…

"Hmm… I suppose I'm the fish and you the fisherman in this case. After all, you have me hook, line and sinker-"

"As thrilling as all this fish-related flirting is, why don't you get to the point? So you can, y'know… leave?"

"Oh, can't you give me your name, at the very least?" I batted my eyelashes. "Now that you've teased this innocent maiden out of her senses?"

"Would that get you to leave?"

"It would be the first step. Of course, then I'd need your ardent love, a wedding ring, four years of steamy but tempestuous marriage and a scandalous divorce. Then I might be able to leave. But of course, you'd always remain in my heart."

"Wow, I had no idea you were a fortune teller as well as a pest."

"I'm neither, Fishy-san! Just a lady caught in the throes of passion."

"Well… Either way, I feel like I recognise you…" His eyes are flickering over my features.

"Really?"

"Yes… You look a lot like someone I knew… Well, vaguely knew."

"I doubt that. There are very few people who look even half as good as me."

"… Are you a related to a Yukinoshita Yukino, by any chance?"

I blink, faintly surprised. "You know my cute little imouto?"

"Again, only vaguely. And by that, I mean I sometimes saw her in my high-school corridors."

"Ah! A fellow Sobu High alumni! We have so much in common… But my, all these years, and you still remember Yukino-chan's name and face? What a Freudian slip, Fishy-san!"

"Admitting you and your sister are memorable is hardly a Freudian slip-"

"But you're admitting you found Yukino-chan very memorable indeed, and therefore, me as well." I lean in, giving him a good view of the barman's death sentence. "Can't say I blame you, of course. The Sobu High skirts were very flattering on us."

"Maybe your sister was memorable because…" He scratched his chin in mock thought. "… Oh yes, because you're the daughter of Chiba's National Diet representative. Call me crazy, but that be why."

"Oh yes, I'm sure it was politics on your mind whenever you saw my imouto's thighs. You probably had a crush on her, like all the rest." I giggle. "And now you find yourself presented with the next best thing. A second chance at shooting your shot! You should double-check how many beers you've had, Fishy-san. What if I'm just a figment of your drunken imagination?"

"Huh. That's a lot more likely than you having a crush on me."

"You think yourself that undesirable? Don't you know beauty is in the eye of the beholder?"

"Oh, so you do know the phrase. I thought for sure you'd be too in love with yourself." Fishy-san was doing a much better job than the barman of keeping his gaze in check. "Besides, I don't think my 'figment' would look like you, even if I was in that state."

"And who would it look like, hmm? Someone you know? … Or perhaps, someone you knew…?"

For the first time in our little dalliance, Fishy-san doesn't have an instant retort. I'd succeeded, as was my intention, in touching a nerve. Looks like I was right about why he's here tonight…

He rolls his eyes and turns back to face the bar, trying to ignore me. Alas, the world has yet to find a man with the required restraint.

"It's not very gentlemanly to ignore a lady, Fishy-san."

"It's not very ladylike to make the first move, but here you are."

I grin. "That's true. Guess I'm not like other girls. Are you like other guys, Fishy-san?"

"Undoubtedly."

"We're both know that's not true. Others guys would have already invited me home, and possibly groped me by now. So either you're really, really depressed, or I'm right, and you're not like other guys. Or perhaps it's both?"

Heh, here's another magic trick. Telling a guy they're not like the rest is almost as effective as buying them a drink. But the latter didn't work on Fishy-san here either, and he's still unimpressed. I can't wait to find out which buttons work…

"What's there to lose in giving me your name? I'll give you mine." By now, I'm practically leaned over the bar, trying to bring those piercing eyes back in my direction.

"It's not a fair exchange. I'm not interested in yours."

"What are you interested in then, Fishy-san? That's the question! Just tell me, and I'll provide it. Think of me as your genie in a bottle, just for one night. And what a fun night it could be."

Fishy-san taps his finger on the rim of the cocktail glass, and then ever so slowly, turns to face me. He meets my gaze, as I've been willing him to do. And… and quite out of nowhere, I realise I'm being assessed. Examined. Are those the right words? But his gaze does't feel voyeuristic, like the gaze of the barman, and a thousand before him.

Not quite, anyway… I'm being looked at with the eyes of an observer; the man before me has suddenly become the birdwatcher, and I the bird, singing her pretty little song.

Unwittingly, I find myself straightening up. I'd been leaning over the bar, but now I'm back to resting my head on my hands. I keep my smile charming and persuasive. It's an instinct. An instinct I resort to in the rare case that someone… someone… sees me?

But Fishy-san blinks, and then with an expression of unexpected apathy, looks back at the cocktail I bought for him.

"Well go on then," I say, a little impatiently. "What's your wish?"

"… Nothing you could grant."

…

I… hate what he's just said.

It has annoyed me far more than it should.

I don't let it show on my face. If I don't want something to show, it becomes like a precious museum exhibit, so delicate even the prying eyes of onlookers would chip its surface. My smile remains resolutely dazzling. But his words have annoyed me. This doesn't seem like something which should have an effect. Why has it had an effect?

"… Nothing you'd know about."

This is a slight. I'm not quite sure how yet, because I don't fully understand Fishy-san yet. But I'm going to. When you want something, you take it. That's what being a Yukinoshita has taught me.

"How about a compromise," I say sweetly. "No one comes to a bar to have one drink and leave. If it was that sort've night, you'd be having your one drink on the couch, in front of the TV. Instead, you've come to a bar, so you must be planning to have another beer. Or five."

He sighs. "What does it matter-"

"You don't strike me as the type to turn down a free drink, let alone twice. How about I buy you a beer instead of that lovely cocktail?" I reach over and take the cocktail, peering at the concoction. "Someone has to drink this. I'd say I'm up to the task."

"Yeah? Well, you don't strike me as the type to buy someone a drink twice. What's in it for you?"

"Your name."

Fishy-san couldn't look more unconvinced if he tried. "Oh yeah, sure-"

"Your name, and just a little more of your time. The other side of the bar was incredibly lonely. Going back would be too much for this poor heart to bear. If you have one of your own, Fishy-san, then stop mine from breaking. Please."

"I'd really appreciate it if-"

"Pretty please?"

My interruption, and the manner of it, give Fishy-san pause. He re-assesses me, my smile, the thinly veiled determination therein, and realises there's no chance whatsoever of getting rid of me. Not unless the desire for us to part becomes mutual, which I doubt will happen anytime soon. Oh no, there are hours of intrigue to come, and I fully intend for us both to enjoy them.

"… How much time are you asking for?"

"Oh, I'm not the type of girl to put labels on things. Let's just take things as they come."

"I'm sure lots of guys have heard that before. Shall I skip to asking 'can we still be friends'?"

"I can't be your friend, or anything else besides, without a name. Fishy-san is flattering, but unfortunately insufficient."

He is silent for a moment. Then another. Then another. It's as if he thinks that, in exchanging his name, he is also exchanging a contract, written in more than ink. As if this is a point of no return, or something equally as melodramatic.

"… It's Hikigaya Hachiman… My name, I mean."

"Really? I thought it was your age." My smile broadens, revealing a set of perfect, recently adjusted pearly whites. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Hikigaya-kun. Feel free to take good, good care of me."

"… Well?"

"Well what?"

"What's your name?"

"Oh, so you want to know it after all?"

He scowls. "You were literally just bargaining with me to exchange names-"

"A simple exchange of names was my original offer. The offer we agreed on, however, was your name and time in return for a beer. My name had nothing to do with it." I turn my head, smirking on the inside, and signal for the barman again. "I'll fulfil my side of the bargain now."

"… You really are the daughter of a politician, aren't you?"

"And a business woman at that! A working girl, if you will."

"Indeed. I suppose calling you 'Yukinoshita-san' will be more than impersonal enough."

"Eh? I think there's a deeper reason for you to be satisfied with just my family name. That way, it's easier for you to imagine me as Yukino-chan."

"Yes. Because I'm just so totally in love with her."

"Who wouldn't be, faced with the alternative?"

He raises an eyebrow, but the barman arrives at the same time. I keep my attentions on Hikigaya-kun, barely looking at the barman, as I say, "Another beer for the gentleman please. Whatever he had before."

The barman grunts an affirmation, waiting in case of further orders. My, my! Now he's taken to inspecting the ceiling.

"Y'know, I'm used to saying the opposite, but my eyes are down here," I say to the barman, who had been in the process of leaving before receiving his latest quip. How short-sighted of him.

"Ah," Hikigaya-kun mutters. "I see it's not just me you like to torment. It's men in general."

"Are you apologising for lechery, Hikigaya-kun?"

"Lechery?"

"In case you hadn't realised, our friend here was caught red-handed admiring me. Red-eyed, I suppose."

"If looking alone were considered lechery, half my gender would be in prison by now."

"Especially when I'm around." The cocktail which my new friend rejected turns out to use tequila. "Although you're doing an admirable job of avoiding such trappings so far."

"Well, I'd rather not end up like 'our friend' here."

"So it's only social embarrassment preventing men from jumping me where I stand? What a terrifying thought."

"That's not quite I meant, Yukinoshita-san."

"I'm not hearing a denial. Terrifying, for sure."

Hikigaya-kun receives his new beer from a barman now fully resigned to not receiving a tip. I raise my glass, and 'Hachiman' reluctantly returns the gesture. Clink. An exotic cocktail and an unpretentious lager. A writer would find symbolism here.

Hmm… I wonder what Hikigaya-kun does for a living? A writer doesn't sound far off a dream job for this man.

"So…" I drawl, shifting my bar stool as close to his as possible. "Now that we know each other's name, it's about time we deepen our friendship, don't you think?"

"Except I don't know yours."

"Details, details. What do you do with your time, Hikigaya-kun? What are your DHAs?"

"…"

"Dreams, hopes and aspirations. And how far are you from achieving them?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"I would, yes. Hence me asking."

A sip of beer. "I'm insulted you'd assume I'm not living the dream. Can't you hear the peppiness in my voice?"

"Ill have to listen closer. And it's not an insult to you. Just an insult to dreams."

"… So all dreams are unattainable. Hopes and aspirations are a presumption."

"Your words, not mine."

He shakes his head. "Well done, Yukinoshita-san. With all this talk of despair and pessimism, I've been thoroughly seduced."

I can't help but laugh at his dead-pan delivery. "Cheer up. Not all dreams are unattainable." By now, my breasts are pressed right up against his arm, which appears to have gone stiff. "In fact, some of them are very, very attainable. Easy."

"It's always the 'easy' dreams which get you," he counters. "The ones that seem within touching distance, but are actually far, far away."

"Well, I wouldn't know anything about that. Drink up."

Another sip of beer. Another generous sip of the cocktail.

"What do you do for a living, Hikigaya-kun? That will shed some light on those DHAs of yours."

"… You clearly fancy yourself a good judge of people. Why don't you take a guess?"

I pout. "But it would be so much simpler if you told me."

"Simpler for you. This way, I don't have to talk as much, and on the basis of our conversation, talking is something you enjoy immensely. I'm just being generous."

"… Guess, hmm?"

"I don't like the sound of that tone," Hikigaya-kun rasps.

"Well, I was only thinking… If I have to guess about the kind of person you are, why don't we make a game out of it?"

"What kind of game?"

"A drinking game." My index finger rests on my lips. "Ooh, I do love a drinking game… How about every time I make a correct guess about you, you drink? And vice versa, of course."

"No thanks."

"Why ever not?"

"I don't really do drinking games."

"Lots of people say that, before playing one."

"I've played them before. I just don't enjoy them."

"Do you enjoy drinking?"

"… I mean-"

"Do you enjoy games?"

"That's not-"

"Do you enjoy attractive women?"

He scowls, but doesn't reply.

"Then a drinking game with me shouldn't be any problem whatsoever. This is a win-win situation, really."

"…" He lifts up his beer, searching for another excuse. "This is already half done."

"Let's hope I guess wrong, so you don't have to buy another."

"Your drink is stronger than mine."

"So?"

"So you'll be drinking more."

"Such is the point of a drinking game. Besides, I don't really get drunk…" My voice turns breathy. "… A part of me thinks you might be the same."

"What makes you think that?"

"Oh, nothing in particular." I cross my legs. "So, what about it, Hikigaya-kun? Won't you play my little game?"

"… Seems to me I've been playing it since the moment we met," he grunts, before looking warily at his pint. "… Fine. Go on then."

"Now we're talking." I sit back on the stool, drinking in the sight of Hikigaya-kun, of all I've learnt about him from our chat. They mix with my first impressions, my mental pictures, and the words he's said.

"Let's see… my first guess… You are… a humanities person?"

"… This was a terrible idea, wasn't it?"

I grin. "Drink."

He does so.

"You are… hmm… At university you studied… philosophy?"

"Wrong."

"Japanese, then?"

"Your first guess was wrong. I only drink if you get it first time."

"And when did we agree on that rule?"

"Now."

"If we must." I drum my fingernail, paint dark purple, on the bar. "… You … are doing, or have already received, a doctorate?"

"Wrong."

"You are… a writer?"

He twitches. "Wrong."

"But you're involved in writing?"

"… I only drink if you get it right first time."

"Oh, but I'm so close. If I get your job right next guess, you should still drink."

"Fine."

A giggle escapes me. "… Your job involves…" I take a long, protracted, dramatised pause. "… Publishing?"

He rolls his eyes. Then drinks. Victory!

"Might I ask what specific role you have in publishing, Hikigaya-kun?" I ask smugly.

"I'm a commissioning editor."

"And what does that entail exactly?"

"I read books we're planning to publish, and say whether they're shit or not. Any more guesses, or is it my turn?"

"Come now Hikigaya-kun, you've only drunk twice! Give me a few more."

"…" His stony silence gives me reluctant permission.

"Hmmm… you left Chiba for university?"

"Wrong."

"You have never taken drugs?"

He drinks.

"You don't exercise?"

"Wrong."

"What do you for exercise, then?"

"Cycling."

The drumming of my fingernail continues. Now, we've arrived at the questions I really, really want answered.

"… You've only ever been in one relationship."

Hikigaya-kun, to his credit, doesn't react strongly. It's clear he's been expecting a guess like this as soon as we started our little drinking game. But he can't hide everything. It doesn't escape me the way he bites the corner of his bottom lip. It doesn't escape me how his fingers curl around his leg.

And of course, it doesn't escape me how he drinks.

But that isn't the question I've been most excited for.

"… You have, however, been in love more than once."

I'm not quite sure whether I expect a negative or affirmative. I knew from his reaction to our talk of romantics that love is some kind of hang-up for him. Not necessarily a sore topic, but one he's very conscious of.

Granted, that's not unusual. But people who close themselves off… they may not fall often, but when they do, it's like they've fallen into a bottomless well. It's the truth. And he sounded so cynical of it…

For a heartbeat, I'm convinced Hikigaya-kun will refuse to respond. That this was one guess too far. He doesn't look like he has any intention of speaking. He's obviously a secretive guy. But… he looks at me again, like he looked at me before… as the outside observer, the birdwatcher and the bird… and this time, with a hint of doubt. And perhaps with the most sardonic kind of curiosity.

And he says this: "Wrong. I've never been in love at all."

… My eyes rest on Hikigaya-kun lips.

It occurs to me this is the most attractive I've found him all night. Hah! What is wrong with me?

There's a look of irritated disbelief on his face, as he polishes off the rest of the beer. I'd say he can't quite believe the liberties he's taken with me. But that disbelief melts into determination, right before my eyes.

"Right. My turn."

"How assertive!" I pick up my cocktail glass. "There's nothing more attractive than an asserti-"

"You could have pursued humanities or sciences, but you 'chose' sciences, because that was expected of you."

Straight to it. "I chose sciences of my own free-will."

"You wanted to go away for university, Tokyo probably, but you had to stay in Chiba. Family obligations."

… I drink.

"You are good at lots of things, but you don't have any real hobbies."

"Wrong."

"What's one of your hobbies, then?"

My lip curls up in a smirk as I lift my glass.

Hikigaya-kun rolls his eyes. "Drinking doesn't count as a hobby."

"Keep guessing. I'm ever so curious."

"You can play the piano."

"Not as well as I can play the drums," I admit, drinking.

"You… go horse riding. All rich girls go horse riding."

"This rich girl doesn't. Not since I was a teenager, anyway."

"Drink."

"Sorry, Hikigaya-kun. 'Do' is present tense."

"… You have a controlling father."

My laughter isn't feigned. "You think I have daddy issues! I imagine that explains a lot in your head. Sorry to disappoint you."

"A controlling mother, then."

"What was that about guessing right first time?"

He pauses, considering his next guess, and I realise we've reached the point of my own romantic reckoning.

"… You've never been in a proper relationship."

My smile persists. "Define a proper relationship."

"Don't play semantics. Not a casual hook-up. Not whatever this is," he says, gesturing to the two of us. "A proper, committed relationship."

"Aww, Hikigaya-kun! Don't say I'm just a hook-up! I might cry!"

"Come on. It's obvious that's what you're here for. You were sat at the bar, and you're dressed up like that. Seriously, are you even wearing a bra?"

"I can certainly not be."

"Thank you, Yukinoshita-san, for proving my point… So, am I right?"

"Right about what?"

"You know what. About my guess."

I decide to take the opportunity, as I've been doing since the start, to tease him. I lean right in, closing that cavernous distance between us, so I can whisper in his ear. My voice is sultry and alluring.

"You guessed right, Hikigaya-kun," is what I whisper, before downing the rest of the cocktail.

"… So you've never been in love either."

"No, I wouldn't say so. Not with another person."

"Oh yes. There's always yourself."

"Life is much more straight forward if you love yourself. You should try it sometime."

Hikigaya-kun doesn't look convinced, but I'm not sure about what. This time he chooses to say nothing, and our guesses turn into a pregnant pause.

We end up ordering another drink each. One more exotic cocktail, one more unpretentious lager. Our chatter moves to lighter, less incriminating topics than those raised by our drinking game. I must say, I'm surprised at how much Hikigaya-kun is indulging me. We did have a bargain, of course, but he could break off the conversation if he really, really wanted to. And that has yet to happen.

It crosses my mind… Could I really get him to come out somewhere, and make a proper evening of this? That was the plan, but I didn't know enough about him to tell if it would come to fruition. Now that I know more, it somehow feels less and more likely simultaneously.

Once we've finished our next drinks, I sense Hikigaya-kun glancing at me longer. For him, unaware of my plan, this must seem like a logical end point to our encounter.

"Go on then," I gush dramatically. "Tell me you want to leave. That it's time to abandon me. I can see you're building up to it…"

Hikigaya-kun blinks. I can see the cogs in his brain turning as he selects his words. "… Our bargain was simple. My name and my time in exchange for a beer. I've believe we've both fulfilled those terms."

"There can always be new ones."

"I don't see the need."

"You might if you knew what I have in mind."

"… I… came here for a drink. I've had a drink. I didn't plan on staying out all night…" Each statement that passes his lips feels spur of the moment, as if he's forcefully reminding himself of them. "… So you'll have to excuse me, Yukinoshita-san."

Hikigaya-kun moves to stand, but my voice cuts over the sound of his barstool moving. "But what about my new bargain?"

"I'm not-"

"A night out with you in exchange for a night out with me."

"… That's all?"

I nod. "That's all."

"Not really a bargain, is it? Just an offer. All you're suggesting is we keep spending time together."

"It can still be described as a bargain."

"Hardly-"

"I want to know you, Hikigaya-kun," I say simply. "And, while I'd never dare to be presumptuous… I think you want to know me too. By going out, we'd both be getting what we want. Therefore, it's a bargain."

"What makes you think I don't already know you?" He counters. "Most of my drinking game guesses hit the mark."

"As did mine. Yet here the offer lies, on the table. Funny how that works, isn't it?"

"What?"

"How people presume to 'know' someone… even those closest to us… when in truth, you can never know anyone that closely. It's impossible. Pointless. But some people keep on trying anyway, pointlessly." A giggle that sounds like it came from elsewhere. "Funny, isn't it Hikigaya-kun?"

He's half on the barstool, half off it. Half committing, half leaving. I'd closed the distance between us as we spoke to a few inches; his thigh is brushing mine. Our eyes couple themselves again. There's really nothing more magnetic than eye contact. You'd have to be blind not see the chemistry we have. Everyone in this bar can sense it- all those who'd been looking at me, hoping to dance, know I've found my partner for the ball.

I know we both feel it. Who wouldn't want me in their life, if only for a night? So what's stopping him?

But he finds it within himself to look away, to slide fully off the barstool. Hikigaya-kun, his face stony and somehow resigned, offers me a small nod. "Thank you for the drinks, Yukinoshita-san… and for the conversation. I hope you have a good night."

"Don't leave then." My voice is sing-song, my smile methodical.

"… Again, I hope you have a good night," he repeats. Showing that meaningless restraint, he straightens his face, and ignores me with a dismissive air. As if he can't be bothered, rather than thinking he shouldn't.

And now in the face of his insouciance, I'm starting to get irritated.

"Tell me, Hikigaya-kun. When was the last time you actually had fun?"

That makes him stop and face me. He snorts. "Just before you bought me a drink, I'd say."

"Oh really? I could've sworn you looked miserable before."

"Well, you're wrong."

"… That's it? Just 'you're wrong'? Oh dear, Hikigaya-kun. Your wit appears to have eluded you at the crucial moment."

"And what about you then, Yukinoshita-san?" He crossed his arms. "When was the last time you had fun?"

"Oh please. I'm the one suggesting we go out. I'm the one who made the first move. If one of us is having fun, and used to having fun…" I lean in suggestively, and whisper the last part in his ear. "… Then it's me."

But his eyes are still. "Methinks the lady doth protest too much."

I laugh dismissively. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Anyone so determined to prove they're having fun must be very boring. Or miserable. Or both."

I roll my eyes. "Hikigaya-kun… How about I simplify this as much as possible?"

With confidence, with a sure foot forward, I stand up. Then, feeling the eye-prick of all those in the bar, I approach him. Each step is slow and oh-so deliberate. I'm glad I look my best for this, all in purple. The one I'm performing for is standing immobilised, until I'm right in front of him, all of me, eye to eye. His dead fish eyes are dilated- probably the widest they can be. Mine are probably dilated too. There's no mirror to reveal whether I'm right.

But I don't let that stop me. I lean in so that my lips are right next to his ear. My hands are in front of me, almost touching his frame. He stiffens, and he can't quite hide his shiver as warm breath rushes over his skin.

"I like you, Hikigaya-kun. Spend the night with me."

He steps back, but his eyes have the slightest glaze. The confusion remains.

"… Why?"

"What do you mean, why?"

"Why would you ask that? Why would you…" Like me.

I smile. "Stay out to find out. Maybe I'll even tell you my name."

"… Fine."

There you go! Took long enough.