So you're a tough guy
Like it really rough guy
Just can't get enough guy
Chest always so puffed guy
I'm that bad type
Make your mama sad type
Make your girlfriend mad type
Might seduce your dad type
I'm the bad guy, duh

Izumi frowned and followed my gaze, which was still focussed on the dance floor. Her eyes widened a little when she saw the puppy resolutely push past the dancing figures and head straight for us.

She looked back at me in alarm, her expression full of unease.

"Maybe you'd better-" she began, but I cut her off.

"Leave? No, why?" I asked without moving, just letting the impending disaster come to me. "Just when things are getting interesting."

She stared at me in disbelief, her lips opened as if she wanted to say something back, but then she lowered her head. I watched her stiffen as she crossed her fingers nervously in front of her body. She took a deep breath, probably in a desperate attempt to calm herself down, but the slight trembling of her hands gave her away. She probably just realised that it was too late to wriggle out of this situation. Instead, she seemed to want to disappear into the shadows without a trace, like the Cheshire Cat, becoming one with her surroundings.

The puppy stomped towards us with energetic steps, the drooping bunny ears of his cap flapping back and forth with every step. Together with his face contorted with rage, it lent an unintentional comedy to what was actually a serious scene. I forced myself to control myself, but couldn't quite hide an amused twitch at the corners of my mouth as he came to a halt in front of us and scrutinised me from head to toe - with such a penetrating, hate-filled look that you would have thought he was trying to remove me from the hall by sheer force of will.

Izumi slowly looked up at him. As if on cue, a smile appeared on her face.

"Makoto," she said, slightly flustered. "You're back."

"What are you doing? What's he doing here, Tsu?"

His voice sounded menacing, almost like a subliminal growl. He let his gaze wander from me to her, waiting.

"What do you mean? We were just having a quick chat... about the infirmary," she added quickly, trying to put on as credible an expression as possible, but not quite succeeding. I could read the uncertainty in her eyes, but it wasn't just her looks that gave her away. The nervous rubbing of her fingers against each other also spoke volumes - an unconscious sign that she was anything but comfortable in the situation.

Aoyama snorted briefly. Not even he seemed to buy her lie.

"You're talking about work. Here? I thought he was on duty."

His eyes met mine again and I watched with satisfaction as he tensed his shoulders and his hands clenched into fists as if he was struggling to control himself. It was amusing how little it took to get him out of his shell. To be honest, it was almost... too easy.

Izumi opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Her fingers plucked frantically at an invisible fold in her dress as she searched for an answer. Her eyes flitted briefly to me, looking for help, but I just leaned back against the pillar and watched the spectacle with growing satisfaction.

I raised an eyebrow.

"You could say I took a little break," I finally said slowly, a mocking smile flitting across my face. "To take a deep breath. Maybe you should try it, too."

Izumi's head jerked round towards me and she gave me a sharp look, which only amused me more. Her lips formed a silent "What are you doing?", but I studiously ignored her.

Aoyama's jaw began to grind menacingly, as if he had to hold back the words he wanted to hurl at me with all his might. He looked as if he was about to lose control of himself and jump down my throat. His jealousy was like a loose valve that could be opened with minimal effort - and I was tempted to do just that.

"Makoto, don't worry about it," Izumi interjected hastily. "We were just having a quick chat. Please don't make a scene, okay?"

Her voice dropped almost to a soundless whisper as she reached for his arm soothingly. But he ignored her and with a jerky appraisal, pulled away from her again.

"What do you want from her, huh? Why can't you just leave her alone?"

Izumi took another step towards him, her face tense and her fingers gripping his arm almost desperately, this time with more vigour. Her gaze darted back and forth between us, almost helplessly.

"Koto, please!" Her voice was almost pleading. "Let's just go back to the others. Chishiya will... I'm sure he has a lot of work to do."

She emphasised the last words emphatically, while her eyes silently begged me to leave the room to defuse the situation. And maybe it would've been more reasonable to just leave, but I was rarely reasonable, especially when the alternative was so much more entertaining.

"What do I want from her?" I repeated with mock astonishment. "Well, that depends on what you have in mind. You obviously seem to have a very vivid imagination, so what do you think I might want from her?"

The man he was addressing narrowed his eyes, his face, which was usually rather pale, glowing red with anger.

Izumi, meanwhile, tugged lightly on his shirt sleeve.

"Koto, please. Just leave him alone!" she kept trying, and I admired her a little for her persistence.

I saw her hesitantly reach for his hand, a small gesture that I merely acknowledged with a disparaging smile, but which triggered more in me than it should have.

"Relax, Aoyama," I continued with my usual composure, crossing my arms in front of my chest as I ignored the uncomfortable lump in my throat. "You're clearly worrying too much. Like she said, we were just talking about work."

Aoyama let out another contemptuous snort. Then he turned to Izumi, who was still clutching his hand as if she could actually hold him back.

"Go back to the others! I want to talk to him alone."

His voice sounded calm, but I could tell from his posture that he was struggling to keep his composure.

Izumi's eyes grew wide.

"What? No," she replied, shaking her head vigorously. "That's really not necessary, Koto. There's nothing to clarify."

Aoyama grimaced and quickly moved out of her grasp.

"Tsuki, I said go."

His tone was calm but steely, and I could see Izumi gritting her teeth as she looked uncertainly back and forth between him and me. Her breathing quickened and she seemed to be considering whether she should make another attempt to change his mind. But Aoyama's determined expression left no doubt that he would not be swayed.

I took the opportunity to watch the proceedings with a mocking smile.

Izumi gave me a suspicious look before turning her attention back to Aoyama.

"Please don't do anything rash, Koto," she said softly, her voice barely more than a whisper.

He didn't say anything back. Instead, he fixed me with that cold, angry stare that amused rather than intimidated me.

After another moment of hesitation, Izumi sighed heavily, as if she knew there was nothing she could do to stop him. She eyed me with one last worried look - as if she was afraid the puppy would actually physically attack me - before finally turning around and slowly walking away from us. I noticed that she didn't go straight back to the others, but stayed close by, watching us furtively over her shoulder.

When she was out of earshot, Aoyama took a deep breath, then turned his full attention back to me.

"Leave her alone, Chishiya."

His voice was calm, but full of suppressed anger.

I slowly raised an eyebrow.

"Is that a request or a threat?"

He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white.

"I'm serious. Stay away from her in future or you'll be sorry."

I laughed softly.

"You want me to stay away from her? Maybe you missed it, but she came to me willingly."

His gaze narrowed menacingly.

"Because she doesn't know what kind of guy you are. But I do know. And I won't let you take advantage of her good nature for ... your games."

"My games? So, what exactly do you think she's supposed to do for me?" I asked, still completely unimpressed by his accusations.

The puppy took a sharp breath, as if he had to force himself not to attack me immediately.

"I don't know," he hissed. "But I don't trust you. You always have an ulterior motive in everything you do. And I'm not going to let her be a part of it."

I shook my head slightly, as if I almost felt sorry for his mistrust.

"So you think she wouldn't be able to decide for herself who she does and doesn't associate with? That she needs a protector like you to do that for her?"

The man I spoke to glared at me, his breathing quickened.

"You're turning her head."

I snorted in amusement.

"And you're sure this is my doing? Maybe you just didn't expect her to have an opinion of her own."

His jaw muscles tightened again.

"I've known her a lot longer than you have. I know she sometimes gets into things that aren't good for her."

I tilted my head slightly.

"Ah, and by that you mean me? Interesting. You speak as if I'm some kind of... bad habit she needs to break away from." I paused for a moment, letting my words sink in, before adding with a grin, "Which makes me wonder, though... if I'm such an unimportant fringe character, why does it feel like you're the one who can't break away from me?"

Aoyama narrowed his eyes.

"Just shut up, Chishiya," he growled.

I raised my hands in feigned innocence.

"Hey, no need to be so rude. I was just thinking out loud."

He took a deep breath, as if trying to force himself to see reason, but his posture spoke a different language. His every muscle was tense, as if he was on the verge of losing his composure.

"Just leave her alone," he repeated, quieter this time, but with a threatening undertone.

I sighed and leaned back against the wall a little more relaxed, letting my gaze wander to the ceiling as if I was getting bored of the conversation.

"Must be quite frustrating for you, isn't it?" My voice was quiet, almost conspiratorial. "You're standing right next to her, you're trying so hard, and yet it's not enough."

I could feel the atmosphere between us heating up even more. Aoyama's breathing became heavier, the angry glint in his eyes burned into my face as if he could erase my existence with a single look. And yet he did nothing - not yet.

"Well," I finally continued, straightening up as if I had just come to a fascinating realisation. "If I were you, I'd ask myself why she keeps coming to me when you're supposed to be the one who knows her best."

Aoyama jerked his head up, his whole body tensing.

"She won't come to you," he spat back at me. "You're just manipulating her."

I snorted in amusement.

"Or maybe she just prefers me to you?"

He sucked in a sharp breath, as if he needed to remind himself to keep breathing.

"You smug... Bastard."

His gaze narrowed as his fingers dug into his palms so hard his knuckles turned white. I had him right where I wanted him.

"By the way..." I skilfully ignored his insult. I made my voice sound thoughtful, as if I had just realised something. "The dress Izumi is wearing today. It looks good on her, don't you think?"

With that, I had apparently momentarily checkmated Aoyama's brain. He blinked briefly, then frowned in irritation at the abrupt change of subject.

I slowly raised an eyebrow and let my words sink in while I gave him enough time to gain some insight.

"I wonder where she got it." I said it so casually, as if it were a trivial consideration - but I saw his gaze flicker. As if I had just given him a completely new piece of information that he hadn't expected. I lifted my head and nodded towards the dance floor. "Don't you?"

With that sentence, I pushed myself away from the wall. But before I disappeared, I paused once more to turn round.

"Maybe she's not as honest with you as she pretends to be."

The puppy stared at me as if I had just slapped him hard across the face.

I left him standing there, turned around leisurely and sauntered off, ignoring the tension in the air behind me.

1:0 in my favour.

With casual steps, I walked away from the ball, leaving the puppy behind with his bubbling thoughts as I headed for the infirmary. Behind me, I could still feel his burning gaze, his inner struggle almost palpable. He had wanted to punch me - I could see that in his eyes. But he also knew that it wouldn't change anything.

I let out a soft snort that echoed in the empty corridor of the Beach Hotel. The music of the ball grew quieter with every step until only the muffled thumping of the bass penetrated the walls. The party would go on for a while, but for me the show was over for the day. I had achieved what I wanted. And for now, that was enough.

As I pushed open the door to the infirmary, I was greeted by a familiar smell of disinfectant and stale air. It was still unusually quiet.

I slipped off my jacket and slowly lowered myself into the chair behind the desk. Then I slowly turned round in a circle and stared at the ceiling while I reached for the little massage ball lying there and threw it into the air, lost in thought. The evening hadn't been boring - I couldn't deny that. But while I had been playing with Makoto like a cat with a mouse, one thought had stuck stubbornly in the back of my mind - like a splinter that couldn't be pulled out so easily.

Izumi.

Her looks, her reactions, her nervous tugging of her hair. The slight trembling of her fingers when Aoyama had pushed himself between us.

And then there was the way she had come to me. The way she had left him in the crowd without hesitating.

Everything felt like triumph. Everything had gone the way I wanted it to. And yet... something was bothering me. It didn't satisfy me.

My fingers drummed on the armrest of the chair, lost in thought, before I stood up again with a soft sigh. I walked to the window, which offered a view of the pool, its smooth surface reflecting the light from the surrounding lamps.

I leant against the window frame and let my gaze wander over the grounds. It was unusually quiet tonight. No partying groups, no deafening music, no drunken voices echoing through the corridors. It seemed almost eerily empty.

But then I noticed a movement.

I paused.

Down there, at the edge of the pool, I could make out two shadowy outlines in the darkness.

Despite the poor lighting, I recognised the two figures immediately. The flared dress and the ridiculous cap with the long ears.

Izumi and Aoyama.

I crossed my arms in front of my chest and let myself sink further against the frame.

That was interesting.

I had expected the puppy dog to return to the ball in a huff after our little chat - perhaps with a badly mixed drink in his hand to wash down his jealousy. But instead, he had gone straight to her to confront her.

Her postures spoke volumes.

He stood close to her, his arms crossed as if he was trying to suppress his anger. Izumi, on the other hand, looked... restless. She was playing with her fingers, just like before when she was standing between us.

I couldn't hear what they were talking about, but I didn't need to.

Aoyama gesticulated, his movements were erratic, uncontrolled. Izumi, on the other hand, kept shaking her head slightly, as if she wanted to appease him - or contradict him.

I let a soft smile flit across my lips.

The puppy was unsettled. And I knew exactly why.

He was thinking. About my words.

About the dress.

Apparently it had bothered him after all. And I could well imagine how the doubts were slowly settling in him, like a creeping poison spreading through his head.

I stood still for a moment and looked at the picture that presented itself to me. The two of them, in the still night, under the bluish glow of the pool lights, talking to each other. They talked for a while, but Makoto's posture told me that he wasn't getting any satisfactory answers.

Good.

I had left my mark.

My gaze flitted to Izumi, who now bowed her head slightly as Aoyama confronted her with a question. Her shoulders were tense.

I followed their conversation a little longer. Their exchange of words became louder in between, but their voices were swallowed up by the surroundings.

But then the mood changed.

She laughed.

He did too. His tense posture relaxed and he looked almost... appeased. Then, without warning, he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder as if she were just a piece of wood. Izumi laughed and shrieked, but didn't resist as he threw her fully clothed into the pool.

A loud splash echoed through the night, followed by her startled gasp as she resurfaced. The puppy grinned smugly at the edge of the pool while she brushed her hair out of her face and gave him a dirty look - only to burst out laughing herself shortly afterwards.

I watched for a moment as they splashed each other with water, the discomfort from before seemingly washed away.

How sweet.

My smile faded, turned bitter. My grip on the window frame unconsciously tightened a little, while my gaze still rested on the scene.

So that was it. A few words, a little laughter - and all was well again.

I detached myself from the window, turned away and finally reached for the gown again, which was still hanging on the back of the chair.

What did I care?