The dress looked wonderful ... even Ryoki had to admit that Hatsumi was more than stunning, standing there, innocent as a dove on that pure moonlit evening. The night seemed to be catering to them in all aspects: Mrs. Tachibana had flown out to Osaka for business, Mariko-san had gone to visit a friend several blocks away, and best of all, no other guys. So Ryoki had Hatsumi all to himself. (for once in a lifetime)

Hatsumi winced, eyeing the thick black velvet straps laced professionally around her shoulders. "Oh," she tutted, trying to smooth out the creases in the fabric around her torso. "Ryo ... ki ... I can't wear this, it's not ... it's so --"

"So what?" Ryoki snapped, his eyes wandering feverishly about the hotel lobby, letting the inner-workings of the 18-year-old's mind rush into panic mode and bring forth imagination never before thought possible. "You're my girlfriend now, right? So, you said girlfriend and boyfriend are supposed to help each other out. I picked that dress, you know, I took time out of my schedule to help you out."

Hatsumi cowered, covering herself with two outstretched palms. Why was it that Ryoki always managed to bring forth the raw nature of things? Just listening to him harp about such frivolous things as relationships made the hair on the back of Hatsumi's neck tingle unpleasantly. It wasn't as if he had changed from being her former master, anyway. Why did he get boyfriend rights?

"You don't like it?" Ryoki asked bitterly, circles of irate darkness forming beneath his glass-covered orbs. Hatsumi blushed, shaking her head furiously and taking a quick brush at her hair, which was tied rather casually into a single bun, a thick strand of hair falling loose in the back. "I'm really not interested in going back to that place. The guy was ticking me off."

"All he was doing was helping me --" Hatsumi quickly modified her sentence as Ryoki shot her a hateful warning glare, "-- um ... us ... pick out something to wear. I don't know why ... why are we getting dressed up so nice for?" Ryoki withdrew his gaze, fighting the temptation to quickly shout in Hatsumi's face. He couldn't say 'so we could be alone', it'd be too ... Azusa-ish. (that bastard)

"He was looking at you and smiling," Ryoki pointed out as he pulled his suede jacket closer towards his body, shivering slightly as the chilly December air swept in through the open doors. "And you were smiling back. You know what that makes me think? As dumb as you are, you can't even grasp the fact that we're going out?" Ryoki's temple throbbed angrily.

Hatsumi's eyebrows knitted into a unibrow-like frown. She hadn't meant for Ryoki to get so angry ... then again, it was hard not to anger such a tyrant. Self-consciously, she covered her arms with her hands, trailing after a miffed Ryoki as the desk clerk called them over to receive their room keys. Thinking back, Hatsumi remembered another time when Ryoki had invited her out to a hotel ... the suite in --

"Izu's better," Ryoki said as they walked towards the elevator, Hatsumi trailing nervously after him, unsure of how to respond to this last comment. It seemed that whatever Ryoki said made Hatsumi incredibly uneasy ... was it because of his chosen words, or the fact that Hatsumi's heart beat too swiftly to even fathom attempting speech? "There aren't as many people. But ... seriously, if your stupid brother shows up, I'm going to get pissed. We're going to be alone, got that?"

"But --"

"No answering the door, or anything," Ryoki growled, hardly noticing (or choosing to ignore) Hatsumi's obvious protest. She quietened in submission, deciding it was a Ryoki win-Ryoki win situation. "Last time ... we were so close ..." he trailed off, and Hatsumi blushed madly, eyeing her chest, which was thankfully shielded by the dress fabric. If Ryoki tried to expose her again (she could feel her heart pop out of her body when Ryoki had demanded to see her "tits, raw") Hatsumi knew her mind would simply shut down ... or explode, leaving her breathless.

The elevator, unlike the cramped quarters of the complex, was wide and spacious, equipped with two large mirrors on either side. Hatsumi gaped and choked on her spit audibly as she watched Ryoki irritably settle into a chair opposite of her. "Wow," she managed to squeak, obviously shocked as Ryoki let out a supressed grunt.

"It's so nice," Hatsumi said, repeating the point she had wanted to get across before. Ryoki scowled as he watched her become entranced with the mirrors beside her. "So beautiful, I've never seen --"

"Will you stop paying attention to the mirrors and just sit down? Ferchrissake!" Ryoki barked, his glasses sliding several inches down his nose. Frightened, Hatsumi submissively lingered close to the cushioned seats, however she did not fully obey, deciding to stand instead.

Ryoki had been foolish not to advise Hatsumi to occupy herself with something. Halfway through their ride upon the stylish elevator, she found that they were moving at a much slower rate than usual. Growing impatient, she sighed, fiddling with the many ribbons and bows in her ensemble, trying to find some form of entertainment. Finally, her eyes settled upon the mirrors again, attracted to the back of a certain someone.

Hatsumi blushed deeply, lowering her gaze but still letting her eyes flicker back towards the mirror, if only to stare at Ryoki for a few moments more. She honestly couldn't understand why she found herself helplessly head-over-heels-in-love with him: he was rude, obnoxious, opinionated ... cute ...

"Narita!" Ryoki cried, his voice suddenly laden with unexpected concern. Leaping to her feet(she had sat down earlier after growing tired of standing in the elevator), Hatsumi subconsciously clung to Ryoki, wincing and tightening her grip as the lights in the elevator abruptly faded into nothingness. "... What the hell ...? Hey, Hatsu ..." Automatic blush.

"Hatsumi ..." Ryoki murmured, his glasses reflecting non-existant light, despite the pure void of darkness. Hatsumi let out a slight whimper of concern and anxiety, her cheeks flushed red despite the fact she was only pressed up against Ryoki out of fright. Seemingly immobile, Ryoki gave in to the fact that Hatsumi would remain there for some time, and sighed audibly, relaxing his muscles.

"Wh-what are we going to do?" Hatsumi cried meekly, hardly audible as her face was smothered within Ryoki's jacket. "I'm scared, Ryoki ... oh my God, I'm so scared ..."

"Don't be," Ryoki assured her, however his voice seemed to be wavering as he noticed that for the first time in awhile, Hatsumi's emotions were plain and sincere. "Don't be a bother, either. With you clinging like that, we're never going to get out of this stupid elevator and up to the room ..." He grimaced upon realizing that they were not nearly close to reaching it -- the room -- anyway.

"I'm s-sorry," Hatsumi wailed, drawing her legs up to her chest and burying her face within them. "I'm sorry, I won't bother you, I ... oh, it's ..." she ended her sentence abruptly, the thickness in her voice suggesting that she was on the verge of tears. Unsure of how to respond, Ryoki merely coughed, allowing the panicky young girl to find comfort within the suede. Just a little longer ... the elevator couldn't be out of order for this long ...

"Ryoki," said Hatsumi, her voice distant and backed up with phlegm from her throat. She was crying, Ryoki realized as he hugged her to him, determined to keep her for himself. She was crying, and she actually thought I could ... well, stupid as it is ... protect her?

"Hatsumi ..." Ryoki said again, breathless, lowering his head as the air of an upcoming romantic scene swirled about around him. In his heart, he wanted to own her -- he wanted to kiss her, hold her close to him just for awhile, if not for an eternity ... perhaps, if she would let him, he could ... besides, as he stated before, they had been ever so close to 'doing it' the last time.

He could try it. Maybe, it would work.

Ryoki clutched Hatsumi's shoulders, thinking to make her feel safe before advancing. He felt a grin creep across his inner-self's face as Hatsumi responded, gazing into his eyes, her own shining brown orbs gleaming with fresh tears. "Hatsumi," he whispered pleasurably, leaning in and pressing his lips against her own quivering pair.

She didn't move.

Excited, Ryoki pressed on, removing his cumbersome jacket and leaning forward, grumbling as Hatsumi expressed a mild sign of discomfort. He knew he should stop, withdraw for a spell, tend to her needs ... but the inner-self was calling for passion, and right now this was exactly what he needed. So, he continued to kiss her, and eventually his hands settled where they so desired to be.

"Ah, no!" Hatsumi cried, quickly wriggling away, but still leaving herself open to Ryoki. Panting, Ryoki leaned back, sighing and frowning with scary intensity at Hatsumi. "I'm sorry," she murmured apologetically, "but ... oh, Ryoki, I don't know if I'm ready yet."

"We were so close!" Ryoki repeated again, the heat in his husky voice rising considerably. Hatsumi winced, her cheeks burning red in the dim elevator shaft. "You didn't have a problem with it before, you said ... you just let me keep going. What's the problem?"

"Oh, but --"

Ryoki chose to ignore Hatsumi, and interrupted her again. "Like I said, I want to see them ... it's an order, then, if you're going to be so goddamned stubborn about it. Ferchrissake."

"Will you laugh ...?"

Hatsumi's strange question struck Ryoki like a cold fist to his face. He had known Hatsumi to be a meek person, afraid of showing her body, and only to those whom she fully trusted. Ryoki was ready, he was pretty sure Hatsumi was ready -- about 99.9 sure, anyway -- but never before had he been asked such non-Hatsumi-ish question. Or, perhaps it was just her self-esteem thing kicking into gear again ...

Trying to seem as caring as possible, Ryoki forced a weak smile and leaned in, his shaggy blonde hair brushing Hatsumi's forehead. "I won't laugh," he assured her, caressing her cheek (not really like him) and feeling his temperament failing slowly. Sniffing, Hatsumi wiped back a tear ... and nodded.

Even before Hatsumi could mutter, "Okay ..." in a hesitant manner, Ryoki was already pressing up against her again, their two bodies entwining in some rather awkward positions. Neither knew what to do in such a situation ... should she advance, should he? Ryoki squeezed her again, whispering into her ear.

"... Take it off," he insisted. "It's an order."