"Can you stop staring at me? You've been doing it the whole night and it's weird," she says, arms crossed against her chest.

He grunts, turning his head to the side. No use adding fuel to the fire, not if he wanted to stay alive for the next few hours. He wasn't staring, he reasoned, just appropriately glancing from time to time.

"Why'd I have to be stuck with you of all people?" she exhales loudly, sighing.

"It's not like I wanted this either. You think I'd be deliberately wasting my time doing something like this? Hah, fat chance." he said smugly, a hint of a smirk on his face aimed to deliberately taunt his companion.

"Hah? What was that? You know just because you're smart doesn't mean you have to act better than all of us."

"Tch, woman, I don't need to act better than you, I already am." he deadpans.

What he gets in return is a kick to the shin and veiled threat of violence, the words uttered in a way that honestly chilled him to the bone. His self-preservation instincts kicking in, he managed to mutter an incomprehensible string of apologies at light speed, surprising even himself.

"How are you gonna make it up to me?" she growled underneath her breath. He shivers.

"What could you possibly want from someone like me?"

She thinks hard for a few seconds. "Yeah, you're right, there's nothing someone like me could want from someone like you…"

He nods his head repeatedly in time with her words, pleased with himself for avoiding his untimely demise via her wrath.

"Other than of course servitude? How about you become my personal errand boy for a week or two?" she finishes, her fingers touching her chin in a contemplative manner.

His nodding stops. Again, he stares, only this time his mouth is agape. His brain is somehow stuck in between trying to take in how good she looks and understanding what he just nodded his head to. She doesn't seem to notice, he thinks, as he realizes she was trying to mess with his head. He keeps his cool when he responds.

"No thanks. I'd honestly rather die than do so. In fact, I'd rather die before even considering doing so."

"Hah? As if I'd even want you anywhere near me normally. I knew you were disgusting, but I never thought you'd be so disgusting as to actually think I was anything but joking." The contempt on her face is clear, and he can't help but find it extremely attractive, even though he'd be dead if looks could kill.

"That so? Well then I must be really lucky to be stuck here with you then. Definitely having the time of my life right now." he drawls sarcastically, closing his eyes.

"Gross. Get away from me right now." she attempts to shove him back, her labour yielding no fruit as the walls of their confines refused to budge. It was worth a try, she supposed.

"Look, I obviously don't want to be here as much as you do, but we're stuck here until who knows when. I don't have to like it, you don't have to like it, but might as well make it bearable for both of us." he offers.

"You being here and bearable are completely opposite to me." she replies instantly, shooting him a glare and clicking her tongue.

He can't help but follow the motions of her lips, soft and smooth and pale in the dim light. The thought of what they'd taste like briefly flashes in his head. Peach, he supposes, as e receives a pinch on his arm, anything but light.

"Will you quit staring at me? It's grossing me out." she hisses.

Again, he manages to let out a noncommittal grunt, yet decides not to turn his head away. She can't tell him what to do. He answers to no one but himself after all. Soon he finds himself staring into her eyes, a challenge met with furrowed brows from the opposite ends. This was not how he wanted to spend the night of his high school graduation party, he laments, stuck in a small space with everyone seemingly having forgotten about them at all. Everyone else is probably drunk or doesn't care to look for anyone else, simply enjoying their last few moments of being together with their friends before the inevitability of drifting away. How stupid, if they were very closely bonded it would have been nothing to worry about anyway.

"Why?" The question breaks his would-be internal monologue on the superficiality friendships and distance. He merely raises his eyebrow upwards, indicating the lack of clarity in the question.

"Why do you keep staring at me like that? Do I have something on my face? Do you have a problem with me? Which is it?"

A lot of reasons, he supposes. Mainly, it's the lack of anything else to stare at, given current conditions. Current conditions being trapped inside a space with barely any room to maneuver or even wiggle his legs, close enough to someone else to hear, heck, even feel their breathing on his neck. Another reason is that because she's very attractive, not that he'd even admit that out loud or in public. Maybe, he thinks, she was only attractive because of the situation, and he's pretty sure there's a term for that effect out there, but doesn't know what it's called. Yet, he's sure she's always been very attractive, and can even blame it on his teenage brain and his hormones. Yes, he thinks, that would be the best reason.

"Thanks? I guess. You could be a bit more honest, you know, if you just wanna compliment me after all. I totally get it." A confident grin graces her face,

He realizes he's been speaking out loud and flusters, the implications of what he just said coming to mind. For the first time in what must be half an hour, he averts his gaze, the lack of anything else to look at but dark walls being extremely apparent.

It's minutes before there's any other coherent discussion is made. Again, it comes in the form of her asking a question.

"What do you plan to do after all this?"

"After I get out of here? Go home, probably." his reply is immediate. He's had it. Why he decided to go to this insane idea of a celebration is beyond him anyway. He didn't even know 95% of the people here, and if it weren't for Komachi's incessant badgering, he probably would be at home right now, dozing off or playing games. Oh how he missed the comfort of his own bed already, the dim light of his game the only light in the room.

"Don't be stupid. I meant high school. Where do you plan to go to college? What do you plan to do in life?" she asks, irate. Recently, she's been very irritated with him, not that she wasn't before all this. As he's been made to understand, she's irritated with him during the times she's even noticed his presence.

"Didn't take you to be interested in what I wanted to ever do. Why you asking? Is this some elaborate scam? Blackmail?" The sarcasm dripping from his voice makes her flinch slightly.

"Far from it. I'm sure I'll forget everything you say in the morning anyway. I'm just trying to not get bored to death here, stuck with you." She gives him a hard look, a stare unwilling to back down from any argument. He finds it an extreme turn-on, not that he would ever admit it, and shakes his head to clear the thought as he sighs.

"Just Chiba University. I'm not that smart to aim for somewhere farther away, not to mention that it would be such a hassle to live far away from Chiba. As for what I want to do, who knows. House husband maybe." He relents to the question, seeing that answering would be the best way to not cause anymore trouble for himself. Trouble he would waste much more time and energy than it was worth.

"I see. And what about…." the question trails off. He waits for her to finish the thought.

"What about Yukinoshita?" There's a small pause after every word, the question seeming tentative in nature, as if lightly treading into dangerous territory.

"What about Yukinoshita?" His response contains more venom than he would have liked in it, his own emotions seemingly getting the better of him. Not good, he reckons, not good to let on anything about himself or how he felt.

This time, she flinches visibly, and for the next few moments, fidgets uncomfortably, twiddling her fingers while trying to come up with an appropriate explanation, an adequate continuation to her own question. He knows what she's trying to ask, but until she elaborates further, he decides not to answer. He needs his own time to compose himself after all.

"Look, I, you see, what I was trying to ask was that, basically, what do you think about her engagement?" she fumbles with the words, unsure.

Ice cold pain shoots up in his chest as he relives the feeling of betrayal and disappointment over and over again in his head. No. Not again, he decides. He will not let the feeling take over his conscious thought again. He was, is, better than that. With much difficulty, he releases his clenched hands, loosens his jaw, things that he didn't know he was doing reflexively, things that from now on, he should note not to do.

"It's good. They're really a match made in heaven. They suit each other, Hayama and Yukinoshita. Money marrying into money, that's how the world works, right? Besides, they're both smart anyway. Couldn't imagine a better couple."

Yes, that's just how the world runs, after all, he thinks. It would make complete sense for money to retain money by marriage. He doesn't blame anyone. He'd do it to, given money. There's no place in the world for stupid idealistic ideas like true love. Money makes the world go round. No one would be anywhere they wanted to be in without money.

"Is that so?" She's regained her previous composure. She looks determined, solemn, even as she asks the question.

"Uhuh."

Silence washes over the small space and its occupants. For a while, there is only him staring into her eyes, and inwardly he laughs at his idea of maybe being able to read her thoughts through it. Throughout, she never breaks eye contact, holding his gaze. She opens her mouth to speak.

"I have a request for you." The words are unexpected, most of all from her of people.

"Don't do that anymore. Graduating remember? Club activities closed down weeks ago." He nearly laughs out loud, but instead settles for a small chuckle. There's something he finds innately funny at the thought of doing requests.

"It's….personal. "

"Let me hear it then. I'll decide after." There's merit to hearing it, he supposes. Might give him something to laugh at after all. Or at the very best, something to make fun of her with. Information is power, so they say.

Again, silence. She seems to be looking for the right words, struggling and fidgeting. In his eyes, she's unsure of what to say. She breathes in deep, her lips forming an O. She speaks slowly, shyly, a side he's never seen before and never thought existed.

"Kiss me."

He hears the words but his head seems to not register the meaning of them until a few seconds later. He flusters, embarrassingly so, and he's sure that if he looked into a mirror he'd look like a tomato.

"Excuse me?" He manages not to stammer out the words, despite feeling his heart in his throat.

"Y-y-you heard me. I w-w-want you to k-kiss me." She's clearly worse off than him, if her not meeting his gaze and stumbling over her words was any indication of it. He manages to regain his composure, treating the situation like an elaborate prank.

"Why should I? What's in it for me? Heck, what's in it for you? I doubt you'd normally want to do this, and not in a million years would I ever had expected to hear you say that, to me of all people. Listen, I don't know why you're doing this, but if you're trying to humiliate me, or if this is an elaborate comedy show, you're not really gonna get anything out of it. I'm already the lowest of the low, I don't see anything you have to gain out of this."

His logic is clear-cut, precise, without flaw. She's never shown any indication of being interested in him at all, aside from wanting to rip his guts out for his wicked schemes. Indeed, that's how things should be.

"Look, okay. I'm not stupid. I asked you for one thing. There's no ulterior motive here to humiliate you. I just need you to shut up and kiss me. You're already profiting by doing that aren't you? Not everyday that someone as beautiful as me would ask that from you right?" Her tone is half-chiding, half-sarcastic. She's not here to explain, she's here to take what she wants, he realizes. Maybe he'll never get an explanation, he thinks, no matter how much he asks.

"And what if I say no?"

She twirls her hair around her finger, biting down on her inner lip. In any other case, his attraction to her beauty would be shut out by his logical brain, but current circumstances amplified it. He felt stupid.

"Do you really not want to?"

He's surprised by the look on her face, the first time he's ever seen such a complex mix of emotions on it. DIsappointment, insecurity, fear, blended into one cocktail, and served right in front of him, eyes wide and unsure of herself. He didn't know she had it in her to be.

"I…" He sighs. "I can't say I don't." He says, as he leans down and touches his lips to hers. The kiss is soft and fleeting, two individuals testing the borders of what felt acceptable. Bare lip to lip contact, held for seconds, the bare definition of a kiss.

He manages to separate himself from her before he could do more. That was enough, no need to venture into dangerous territory.

"Geez, warn me next time will you? I wasn't even prepared at all." Definitely not what he expected. Next time? His brain jumps, does several lines of calculations in a split second, then gives up rational thought altogether.

"Can I try again?" He curses his hormones for the question.

"Can you do a better job this time?" He registers the hidden affirmation and nods to the question.

"Go on, then." She closes her eyes and breathes in slowly.

Slowly, he leans in, and captures her lips with his own. This time, he takes in all the little details, notes them in his head. Definitely peaches, his sated curiosity tells him. Her lips feel soft and warm on his own, and he could definitely get used to this sensation. Not that he was ever planning to. He moved his head to the side, adjusting to get a better angle and felt her reciprocating the motion.

He wonders how far he could go, how much stupidity his damned hormones could do before he got into trouble, as he nibbles at her lower lip. Kissing definitely felt good. He could see why all the hormone addled teenagers did it all the time. He separates, running out of breath. Face flushed, he looks at her, eyes open and breathing heavily.

"Again." The word removes all thought in his head. He cursed biology and evolution and hormones for all the stupid decisions he was making tonight, mainly this, yet could not find himself stopping himself from kissing her at all.

She gets bolder and bolder with every second, he noticed. Less inhibitions and thinking and more carnal desire. The kissing gets more intense, and she was definitely contributing to it. At some point,she'd wrestled control over him, and as now lead him into her own pace. Not so bad, he thinks. The way she wrapped her arms around his neck sent shivers down his spine, sent goosebumps tingling up his arms.

His brain was numb, all sensation but her and whatever was happening lost. In the heat of the moment, he didn't know if what he was doing was right, but he did know he didn't want it to end. In the commotion, his arms had found her waist as well, holding her close to him as she fervently attacked his lips with her own.

Her hands roamed all around, patting him down, scratching him with her nails in places he didn't know he wanted to be scratched. He didn't know when tongues started becoming involved, but at the moment, he wasn't one to care. He was one to follow the lead of whoever beckoned him. All thought was replaced by her, her lips and kissing them. Oh, how stupid he would have looked like to the him from the past.

After what felt like an eternity but must have been just minutes, everything started slowing. Both were tired, faces flushed and chests heaving. She gives him one last kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck a final time, the tightest she's ever had in the short span of time they've spent together. She nibbles his lips as they part and step away from each other, and gives him a confident smile.

"Not bad."

He decides not to point out how "not bad" was the equivalent of her clinging to him for a good few minutes, not wanting to sour the mood. He grunts, stares at her again. Her clothing and hair are disheveled, something he again, finds extremely attractive. He merely grunts. He'll take the compliment.

"So…..again?" she asks.

"And what if I say no?" He doesn't want to, but he thinks he should.

"That one wasn't a request." She utters proudly, and he knows if she had a bit more room she would have puffed out her chest and flicked her hair, the queen that she was. He shudders, paranoid of what was to come given the current happenings. As long as no one finds out, it would be okay, right? He tries to tell himself again and again.

The arms wrapping around his neck make him lose focus. She whispers in his ear, simple and soft, yet somehow managing to sound sultry and sexy all the same. Again, goosebumps rise all over his body, tingling on his skin.

"Focus, Hikio."

He would. It wasn't everyday you get to kiss the Fire Queen of Sobu High, after all.