Makoto woke up in the middle of the night to soft moans. Curious, he tried to peek with his eyes half-open. The room was dark, lit only by the faint, ghostly glow of a phone screen. The moans were coming from the couch. He squinted, his eyes slowly adjusting to the gloom.
It was Ayane. She was sitting up, her back against the armrest, the blanket pooled around her waist. She was naked from the waist up, her large, heavy breasts luminous in the pale light of her phone.
And she was watching something, which had her completely captivated. Her other hand, hidden under the blanket, was moving in a slow, frantic motion. Her moans were small and desperate. She was trying so hard to be quiet, not to wake them all up. But she was losing the battle.
Makoto couldn't see what was on the screen, but he could hear it. A faint, almost inaudible sound mixed with a series of wet, sloppy noises and a low, guttural grunt of pleasure.
And then, his own voice. "...you look beautiful, Ayane. Your eyes are shining like stars..."
"That was the video Mika had recorded back then... when we stayed at Ayane's apartment[1] after meeting her parents," Makoto remembered, keeping his eyes mostly closed, pretending to sleep as he peeked at her.
Ayane's entire body was taut and quivering with a painfully intense pleasure. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her lips parted in a silent moan. The sound of his voice, so gentle and beautifully romantic, was a stark contrast to the raw, animalistic act that had followed.
Her hips began to move in a slow, involuntary grind against the couch cushions. Her hand became a blur of motion rhythm. She was so close, breathtakingly close.
"This is getting interesting," Makoto thought, holding back his urge to join her. He closed his eyes again, eager to see what would come next.
And then, a new voice cut through the darkness like a shard of ice.
"Are you enjoying the video I made?" It was Mika. She was sitting on the floor at the foot of the couch with a calm smile on her face. She had been watching the whole time.
The sound of Mika's voice had the same effect as a bucket of ice water. Ayane froze, her hand under the blanket stopped. The frantic rhythm was gone, replaced by rigid stillness. The soft, choked moans died in her throat, strangled by a sudden, sharp intake of breath.
The only sound in the room was the faint, tiny audio from the phone: "...So, how often do you masturbate..."
For a long, agonizing moment, there was only silence. And then Ayane slowly, deliberately turned her head. Her face, in the pale glow of the screen, was a mask of shock that slowly morphed into a scowl of fury.
"What the fuck, Mika?" she hissed. "You're a fucking creep, you know that?"
Mika's smile didn't falter. She tilted her head with innocent curiosity. "I'm the creep?" she whispered back, feigning surprise. "But you're the one watching our boyfriend's private video in the middle of the night and masturbating. That's very naughty, Ayane-chan."
She crawled closer like a silent predator in the darkness. "It's the part where he praises you that really gets you off, isn't it?" she murmured, her voice dropping to an intimate tone. "The cheesy, romantic part. You're such a pervert... but a secret, sentimental one."
Ayane's breath hitched. Mika had seen right through her, peeled back her tough exterior, and laid her secret weakness bare. "Shut up," Ayane snarled. It sounded like just a weak, pathetic defense.
Makoto let out a fake snore. "Interesting. I had never actually heard how they talked behind my back. Let's wait and see."
His soft, rumbling snore was the all-clear signal they were waiting for. Mika's grin widened in the pale moonlight. She crawled onto the edge of the couch, her face just inches from Ayane's. "See?" Mika whispered. "He's fast asleep. We can talk freely."
Ayane flinched, pulling the blanket up to her chin like a shield. She quickly thumbed her phone off, plunging the corner of the room into near-total darkness. "There's nothing to talk about," she hissed. "You're a psycho, Mika. End of story."
"Oh, but there is," Mika purred, unfazed. "I find your preferences... fascinating. Yuna is all about possession and competition. And I enjoy the chaos, the corruption of my innocence."
She paused, letting the words hang in the air. "But you... you're a helpless romantic. Underneath all that bold talk about wanting to be hurt and marked, you just want to be told that you're beautiful."
Mika reached out, her finger tracing a deliberate path down Ayane's arm. Ayane shivered but didn't pull away.
"It's your weakness, Ayane-chan," Mika continued, her voice dropping to a hypnotic murmur. "It means that if you are ever truly angry with him, all he has to do to win you back is whisper a few sweet nothings in your ear."
She leaned in closer, her breath warm against Ayane's cheek. "It makes you the easiest to control."
Ayane was silent for a long, tense moment. "So what? What about you?" She finally retorted, her voice laced with venom. "What's your weakness then, you creepy little mind-fucker? What happens when he decides he likes a good girl who actually stays good instead of a manipulating, heartless bitch? What happens when he gets tired of your games?"
Makoto stopped his fake snoring. He didn't dare breathe too loudly, curious about her answer too.
The silence that followed Ayane's question was different. It was heavy, cold, and still. The air in the room seemed to drop several degrees. Mika's smile didn't falter, but for the first time, there was a flicker of something cold in her eyes.
Her smile remained, a perfect and terrifying mask. But her eyes, now fully adjusted to the dark, seemed to absorb all the light in the room, becoming two bottomless black pits.
When she finally spoke, her voice was soft, almost inaudible, a sound like silk being drawn over a razor's edge. "That's an excellent question, Ayane-chan," she murmured. "You're very perceptive."
She leaned in so close that their noses were almost touching. The sweet, innocent scent of her shampoo was a horrifying contradiction to the chill in her voice. "You think my weakness is that I will be abandoned when he gets tired of the game," she whispered.
"But you're wrong, so wrong..." she confessed, with her sweet, deranged logic, "if he ever showed signs of getting tired of me... I would simply have to remove the other players from the board."
She reached out, her fingers cold as ice, and gently traced the line of Ayane's jaw. Ayane didn't even breathe.
"He can't get tired of me if there's no one else to compare me to," Mika explained with the calm, patient tone of a teacher explaining a simple equation. "He can't prefer a 'good girl who stays good' if the only other options have... disappeared. And he has no other choice but ME."
She pulled her hand back, her smile returning to its default state of serene beauty. "My love isn't a game, Ayane-chan," she concluded softly. "It's my battle, and I always win."
She patted Ayane's cheek, a gentle, almost affectionate gesture that felt like a death sentence. "Now, if you'll excuse me," she whispered. "I think our boyfriend is having a bad dream."
With a fluid motion, she slipped away from the couch and glided back to the futon, snuggling into her spot beside Makoto as if nothing had ever happened.
Ayane just sat there on the couch, silent in the darkness. She could practically feel the cold sweat beading on her skin from across the room.
Makoto also felt a cold sweat on his own back as Mika slipped in beside him. He hugged her tight, murmuring a fake sleep-talk... "Hmm, hmm... I love you so much, Mika, you should never leave me."
The effect of his sleepy, unconscious words was immediate, like a lit match dropped into a barrel of gunpowder. He could feel Mika's body, which had been a cold presence beside him, go completely still for a fraction of a second.
First, it was a sharp intake of breath, and then she melted. She relaxed into his embrace, her body becoming warm and pliant against him. She nuzzled her face into his chest, a small, contented sigh escaping her lips. It was the picture of perfect, innocent affection.
But from across the room, in the darkness, Ayane saw what Makoto couldn't. She could see Mika's wide-open eyes. They were blazing with a cold, triumphant fire, and they looked directly at Ayane over his shoulder with a predatory smile on her face.
It was not Mika's usual sweet smile. It was a victor's smile, one that said: "See? He chose me. Even in his sleep, he knows who he belongs to."
Mika's hand came up to stroke Makoto's hair, her touch gentle and almost maternal. "Shh, shh," she whispered, loud enough for only him and a horrified Ayane to hear. "I'm here. And I'm never going to leave you. I'll always be here to protect you, darling..."
The unspoken part of that sentence hung in the air, a chilling, silent threat: "...from them."
After giving Ayane one last lingering look of victory, Mika closed her eyes, her smile softening into something angelic. Then she snuggled deeper into his arms, returning to the perfect, loving girlfriend.
Ayane just sat there on the couch, wrapped in her blanket and alone in the cold, oppressive darkness. She didn't move or make any sound. She just watched the two of them, a terrified witness to a declaration of war she had never even known she was fighting.
And she knew, with dawning realization, that she might be losing. Badly.
[1] Back at Chapter 109, if you want to re-read it.