Love Hotel V3

When Komaeda went back down to the kitchen, Hanamura was already flitting about planning their dinner.

‘Thanks for the lunch,’ Komaeda said. ‘Amami-kun said he enjoyed it.’

‘I’m so glad,’ Hanamura said. ‘So how did it go for you two? If you’re heartbroken, you can always fall into my arms.’ He patted his chest.

‘That’s not necessary,’ Komaeda said. ‘It was … fine.’

‘“Fine” sounds a little disappointing …’

‘If you were hoping for something juicier, I can’t help. What about you, Hanamura-kun?’ They may as well talk while Komaeda cleaned the lunch things.

‘Nothing to report … yet. Tojo-san said she’d help me with the dinner later, so who knows how that will develop?’ Hanamura got a disturbing glint in his eye.

‘Have you decided what you’re making?’

‘Hehe … it’s a surprise! There’s some interesting ingredients in this kitchen, I have to say. Like this.’ Hanamura brandished a small dark bottle. ‘Love-love essence. What do you think that might be?’

‘Is it some kind of plant?’ Was there such thing as a love-love tree?

‘It does smell floral,’ Hanamura said. ‘Almost like osmanthus.’ He offered Komaeda a sniff.

‘It’s slightly chemically though,’ Komaeda said. ‘Maybe it’s not natural at all. It could be a drug.’

‘Love-love essence,’ Hanamura said. ‘Sounds like it should be in the bedroom, not the kitchen.’

‘Maybe they have it on hand for if we’re not cooperative enough.’

Hanamura cracked a grin. ‘An interesting thought. Perhaps I should try it out.’

‘Well, I’m sure they wouldn’t leave anything like that lying about. It probably is some kind of plant extract.’

Hanamura was still considering the bottle when Komaeda left. Tojo was coming in the other direction – she gave Komaeda a small bow as she entered the kitchen. She and Hanamura must have got an exemption from Usami for the afternoon’s activities. They’d spent the morning practicing improv, and this afternoon their teams were meant to each be performing a short skit. In front of everybody.

Komaeda was in a group with Celestia, Harukawa, and Souda, and they were terrible. Celestia overacted, Harukawa was wooden, and Souda was somehow extremely wooden whilst also overacting.

It was an exercise in embarrassment as much as anything. Some of the other groups were better – Akamatsu’s team did a passable job, with Kirigiri and Naegi somehow managing to be very funny, whether it was intentional or not. Or maybe Komaeda was just so relieved that his skit was done with that everything seemed more enjoyable.

Hinata’s group came last, in a skit that began with Hinata and Yonaga’s wedding day. Things went off the rails when Oogami burst in to declare her love for Hinata, challenging Yonaga to a duel – which Yonaga delegated to Nidai (who played the wedding official) – which ended with Nidai running Oogami through with a broom handle. Oogami died with great to-do; Hinata declared that he had loved her after all – and then drank poison and died.

It could have been touching, if any of them were any good. Komaeda clapped anyway.

‘It’s probably just as well there aren’t any actual actors here,’ Akamatsu said to Komaeda after they were done. ‘We were all as bad as each other.’

‘Hopefully we’re not forced to do a music talent show next,’ Komaeda said. ‘You’ll sweep the floor with the rest of us.’

‘I don’t know,’ Akamatsu said with a laugh. ‘I think Maizono-san would make for some tough competition.’

Fewer people had dates scheduled for the evening than for lunch. Komaeda had his date with Fukawa, of course; Akamatsu had been free at lunch but was seeing Saihara in the evening. It was a strange world, Komaeda thought, in which he ended up having more dates than Akamatsu.

‘I’m a bit nervous,’ she told him that evening. ‘I wouldn’t usually see multiple people at the same time.’ She bit her lip. ‘It doesn’t feel right.’ He and Akamatsu were in their room, and Akamatsu was carefully retouching her makeup at the mirror.

Komaeda had never shared a room before. Even when he’d had nightmares as a child, he’d never been allowed to share his parent’s bed. The experience wasn’t so terrible as he had feared – there was something fascinating about seeing someone’s private face. He wouldn’t have minding having a sibling, if it were someone like Akamatsu.

Of course, if he’d had a sibling, they probably would have died when his parents did. It wasn’t a fantasy worth daydreaming about.

He turned away from that line of thought. ‘You’re taking this seriously, Akamatsu-san.’

‘Sure,’ she said. ‘I mean, it’s a weird situation, but people’s hearts are still real, right? They can still get hurt.’ She turned from the mirror, and turned the question back to him. ‘How did things go with Amami-kun? You didn’t say anything earlier.’

‘It was fine,’ Komaeda said, with a sigh. ‘It’s not as if it were a real date.’

Akamatsu pursed her lips. ‘That’s not a real answer either.’

‘If you’re that concerned …’ Komaeda pulled himself upright. ‘I don’t think we’re compatible.’

‘Oh?’

‘I don’t think Amami-kun likes me that much. And why would he? Amami-kun is the kind of person who likes to have adventures, and he’s the kind of person they work out for. What would someone like me have to offer him?’

Akamatsu was frowning slightly, but she didn’t interrupt.

‘There’s some people it’s better just to watch from afar, you know? It gives the rest of us something to dream of. But you shouldn’t try to ever imagine you’re on that level.’

‘It sounds to me like you do like him,’ Akamatsu said.

‘Oh no,’ Komaeda said. ‘It’s not like that.’ Although he had taken the red chocolate when Usami offered him the choice.

‘Maybe not. You sound like you’re talking about someone you read an article about, not someone you had lunch with.’

‘That’s right,’ Komaeda said. ‘That’s exactly what it’s like.’

Akamatsu sighed. ‘Alright. Well, we know that won’t work out, then.’

‘We?’

‘Sure. We both want to get out of here, right?’

‘You really think it will turn out like that? You convince yourself you like someone enough, and they’ll let us go?’

‘It’s not just that,’ Akamatsu said. ‘It has to work both ways, doesn’t it?’ She deflated saying that, her posture collapsing on itself.

‘Oh, but that won’t be a problem for you, Akamatsu-san.’

‘You think?’ Her smile was only halfway there.

‘I’m sure. You’ll have a beautiful romance, and you’ll get out of here –’

‘And live happily ever after?’

‘Why not? If it’s you, I’m sure it will work out.’

‘Thanks,’ Akamatsu said. ‘I appreciate the thought.’

It hadn’t been the right answer. But then, that was why Komaeda couldn’t be a match for her, wasn’t it? The right person would be able to cheer her up without even trying. That could never have been him.

---

Unlike Akamatsu, Fukawa had not made an effort to dress up that evening. To be fair, neither had Komaeda. Neither of them were the other’s first choice.

‘Let’s get things straight to start with,’ Fukawa said, as they took their seats. ‘I’m not the slightest bit interested in you, so you b-better not try anything.’

‘Oh, don’t worry,’ Komaeda said. ‘The feeling is mutual.’

Fukawa’s lips tightened; perhaps Komaeda had been too blunt.

‘You wanted to ask Togami-kun, right?’ he said. ‘Such a shame what happened.’ Komaeda let out a sigh, and Fukawa’s eyes fixed on him.

‘You say that now,’ she said. ‘Don’t you think he might have been able to get away if you hadn’t s-stuck your nose in it?’

‘Hmm.’ Komaeda leaned back in his chair. ‘But that wouldn’t have suited you either, would it? I mean, if you’re serious about pursuing him.’

Fukawa grimaced. Thankfully, they were interrupted by Tojo coming to take their drinks order. Fukawa ordered wine, which meant Komaeda felt free to drink as well. He made it a bottle. If Tojo had an opinion on that, she didn’t let it show.

‘Let’s discuss something other than our current predicament,’ Komaeda said. ‘What did you think of Kamikawa’s latest novel?’ He knew Fukawa would have an opinion whether she had deigned to read the book or not. Someone like Fukawa, he thought, considered all writers her competition.

Fukawa clicked her tongue. ‘That hack,’ she said. ‘Does she think p-people won’t notice she’s just reworking the same s-story over again?’

‘She’s very popular though.’

‘People are attracted to sensationalism. Just being coarse isn’t a virtue.’

‘You didn’t like it, then?’

Fukawa scowled. ‘I didn’t say that.’

By talking about books, they got through their dinner. Komaeda couldn’t come up with a title Fukawa didn’t have an opinion on; he expected he was being tested likewise.

‘I’m surprised you have time to keep up with the field and produce your own work,’ Komaeda said. He was considering another glass of wine; Fukawa had already topped hers up for the third time.

‘It’s not hard,’ Fukawa said. ‘Most people read slowly, that’s all.’

‘But the writing? Don’t you worry that publishing so much means you’re treating it too lightly?’

‘I’m a professional.’

‘But take The Wind Traces the Sand,’ Komaeda said. ‘Aren’t you just retreading So Lingers the Ocean?’

‘A-As expected from a shallow reader.’

‘Huh? Are you saying you aren’t hitting exactly the same plot beats?’

‘It’s not about the b-beats, it’s about the emotional journey –’

‘Hmm, I don’t know …’

‘Now, now!’ Usami said, appearing suddenly. ‘No need to argue! After all, here’s Tojo-san with your desserts.’

‘F-Forget about dessert,’ Fukawa said. ‘I need another drink.’ She tipped back the last of her glass.

‘Are you sure that’s a good idea?’ Usami said.

‘You wanted us to get to know each other, didn’t you?’ Komaeda said.

‘I didn’t mean like this …’

‘You think I can’t handle a bit of criticism?’ Fukawa said to him. ‘People have been giving me c-crap since the day I was born.’ She looked quite worked up, even though she must have heard similar comments before. ‘Pour me another drink.’

Komaeda poured them both drinks. They did both get desserts, as well. The dessert was an earl grey mousse cake, the exterior shell a perfectly glossy dome. There was that fragrant note that one expected with an earl grey, but it wasn’t just the bergamot, Komaeda thought – there was something else.

‘This is really good,’ Fukawa muttered. ‘Maybe that loser is good for something.’

‘Right?’ Komaeda said. ‘Maybe next time you do a romance, you should set it in a kitchen.’

‘You think? But Hanamura would never do for a hero …’

‘That doesn’t show very much imagination, Fukawa-san.’

‘The readers would never accept it! They want a hero who gets their gears turning.’ She sighed dramatically. ‘If only Byakuya-sama weren’t laid up with his injuries. That Tsumiki … I bet she’s really enjoying herself …’

How had they got back on the topic of Togami?

‘Do you think anyone brought Togami-kun any dessert?’ Komaeda said. ‘Maybe you should offer to do it, Fukawa-san. Say, what do you think that floral note is, though?’

‘I don’t know,’ Fukawa said. ‘They always stick w-weird things in this kind of dessert. So they can charge more. Maybe I’ll ask … where’d that Usami thing go?’

Togami’s dinner and dessert had, apparently, already been sorted; Fukawa was crushed. Komaeda thought about maligning her work some more to distract her, but at this point, he was over being Fukawa’s entertainment for the evening.

Akamatsu and Saihara looked like they were enjoying each other’s company, though. Was Akamatsu actually playing footsie with him?

‘D-Disgusting,’ Fukawa said, following his gaze. ‘People like that always have to flaunt their attractiveness.’

‘It is a bit much for in public,’ Komaeda said, without Fukawa’s rancour. He wouldn’t blame anyone for grabbing the opportunity while they had it. And Saihara wasn’t bad-looking, if a bit of a dweeb.

‘Someone should tell them to g-get a room.’

‘As long as it’s not our room,’ Komaeda said. ‘She’s my roommate, you know.’

‘It probably will be,’ Fukawa said darkly. Because he really needed to think about Akamatsu bossing Saihara around in the bedroom. Better not to speculate.

Komaeda went back to his dessert, the floral taste of which was stronger when he got to the fruit gel in the centre. Something that went well with bergamot …

‘It tastes like osmanthus,’ he said.

‘Huh? Yeah …’

The love-love essence. Hanamura had actually used it.

Komaeda started to laugh.

‘What’s funny?’ Fukawa asked.

‘I think Hanamura-kun wants to play a trick on us.’ That, or he’d just liked the scent – it’s not like Komaeda’s theory was necessarily the truth.

He saw Akamatsu lean across the table and whisper something into Saihara’s ear. Saihara went bright red, but he didn’t resist when Akamatsu stood and took his hand.

‘I guess they decided to get the room after all.’

‘Ugh.’ Fukawa narrowed her eyes. ‘Don’t you go getting any ideas.’

‘Don’t worry, Fukawa-san. You’re not my type.’

Fukawa kept her eyes narrowed. ‘What type’s that?’

Komaeda didn’t answer, but his eyes drifted across the room, to where Hinata sat in conversation with Nanami. Fukawa turned to crane her head at them. But there were several tables Komaeda could have been looking at; Fukawa couldn’t know for sure. And Komaeda looked away again anyway, because he didn’t want to see if Hinata were flirting with Nanami. Hinata had asked for this date, after all – it wasn’t as if it had been necessary for either of them. So Nanami was probably Hinata’s type.

‘You’re the same as the rest of them, huh?’ Fukawa said. ‘Men see big tits and they all go gaga.’

‘Huh?’

‘Asahina, right?’

‘Was Asahina-san over there?’

Fukawa’s lip curled. ‘Disgusting.’

‘You keep saying that,’ Komaeda said. ‘It’s almost like you’re the one with the dirty mind.’

‘Y-You!’

Maybe he shouldn’t have had anything to drink after all.

‘I think we better call it a night,’ he said. Before he aggravated her into violence. He sculled the rest of his glass and stood up.

‘Whatever,’ Fukawa said. She swirled her own glass. ‘I’ll finish this alone then.’

‘Maybe someone else will drink with you.’ He looked over, again, at where Hinata was sitting opposite Nanami. At least they weren’t playing footsie. Just think about it made him feel frustrated.

He really hoped Akamatsu hadn’t invited Saihara back to their room.

---

Akamatsu hadn’t put up the ‘do not disturb’ sign, but when Komaeda tried the door to their room, it was latched. What a pain.

Komaeda leaned his head against the door – gently. He didn’t want Akamatsu to think he was banging the door down.

He didn’t want to go back downstairs. Maybe he should go up to the pool again, but he could imagine the bar there might become too appealing, and then he’d drink too much and fall in the pool and drown and they wouldn’t find his corpse till the morning when it was all bloated and gross. He didn’t want to leave a gross corpse.

‘Are you locked out?’ someone said.

Not someone. Hinata. Komaeda turned around, still leaning against the door. Hinata, at least, was alone. Komaeda’s heart was suddenly racing; at least Hinata was alone.

‘I guess Akamatsu-san had a lot of fun on her date,’ Komaeda said. And bit his hand so that he didn’t laugh.

‘Right,’ Hinata said. He hesitated. ‘Do you want to wait in my room? I mean … I don’t think Asahina will be back any time soon.’

‘What about Nanami-san?’

‘What about her?’ Hinata swiped the door to his room. ‘You can come or not, I don’t care.’

‘I’m coming,’ Komaeda said.

Hinata’s room had the same layout as his – but Hinata’s was considerably messier. Although judging from the sort of items that were laid around, that was Asahina’s fault rather than his. Unless Hinata regularly carried around a set of pink and purple weights with him when he travelled.

‘I guess these rooms aren’t really meant for hosting,’ Hinata said, clearing space on the window seat. ‘Do you want a drink? There’s, uh, tea left, or hot chocolate.’ Usami was not very good at keeping the beverage makings topped up.

‘Tea, please.’

Komaeda sat on the window seat while Hinata went to fill the kettle from the bathroom. Even if a hotel wasn’t meant for hosting, it felt somehow cosy. He wondered if he lay down on the bed, it would smell like Hinata. Or maybe it would smell more like Asahina.

Hinata put the kettle on and took the seat by the desk. He seemed ill-at-ease, like that wasn’t where he would usually have put himself.

‘Where is Asahina-san?’ Komaeda asked.

‘Keeping Oogami company, I think.’

‘They really get along, don’t they?’

‘Sure. They were friends before this, she said.’

‘That’s nice.’ Better than being dumped in with a bunch of strangers alone. Not that Komaeda had any friends who could have been dragged in alongside. ‘I liked your skit.’

‘Oh.’ Hinata lifted a hand to his mouth. ‘I haven’t done anything like that since primary school.’ He looked pleased.

‘Me neither,’ Komaeda said. ‘I got banned from drama club after things kept going wrong during performances. They said I was bad luck.’

‘That seems harsh.’

‘Not really,’ Komaeda said, while Hinata got up to make the tea, and himself a hot chocolate. ‘I am bad luck. Even if it wasn’t me messing things up … one time I tripped on the curtain cord during a scene change, and the whole set came down …’

‘That doesn’t sound like it was your fault,’ Hinata said. ‘Couldn’t they have tied the cord back?’

‘Well, it was a long time ago.’ Komaeda drank his tea without taking the bag out. ‘What club were you in at school?’

‘Soccer.’

‘Oh, really?’ Komaeda could imagine Hinata in a soccer uniform. The shorts, particularly … his eyes flicked down to Hinata’s legs unconsciously, although he was fully dressed.

‘We weren’t very good.’

‘Do you still play?’

Hinata shrugged. ‘Just socially. Not that I’ve got much time for it these days.’

‘Ah, right.’ Law school. ‘Thus the running away.’

‘It’s not running away.’

‘What did your parents say? Putting your studies on hold to go on a dating show …’

Hinata looked uncomfortable. ‘They thought it was pretty weird.’

‘I bet.’

‘It wasn’t like I actually expected to get in,’ Hinata said. ‘I guess it was too good to be true anyway …’

‘Right?’ Komaeda wondered how he’d be spending his evening if he really had won a holiday. Probably alone in his own hotel room, reading a mediocre crime novel, with no more company than his own hand …

‘Are you sure you should have left Fukawa alone with that wine?’ Hinata said suddenly.

‘Did she get another bottle? Well, she’ll be fine,’ Komaeda said. ‘Are you worried about her?’ He leaned forward. ‘I’ll swap you.’ That didn’t make any sense – the date was already done.

‘I’m good,’ Hinata said.

‘Right? But you didn’t ask Nanami-san up with you …’

‘We’ve had dinner once,’ Hinata said. ‘Just coz we’re in some kind of weird hot-house situation doesn’t mean we have to rush things.’

‘But you like her, right?’

‘Sure. But we only just met.’

‘Does that matter?’ It didn’t matter to Komaeda, that he’d only met Hinata two nights ago. He would have blown Hinata right then if Hinata had wanted.

‘It matters to me.’

‘Ahhh, you’re so good, Hinata-kun. But didn’t Nanami-san go on a date with Oma-kun too?’

‘So?’

‘So what if Oma-kun doesn’t play by your rules?’

‘Then that’s up to Nanami,’ Hinata said, annoyed. Komaeda thought that he was annoyed. Unless it was just he was thinking of what Nanami and Oma could be up to right now, in the alternate universe where Oma was the one who had taken her to dinner. And maybe been dosed with some kind of aphrodisiac.

Or it was a perfectly innocent culinary flavouring, and Komaeda was just horny.

‘Can we not talk about this?’ Hinata said, looking pointedly away.

‘Sorry, Hinata-kun. I’ll keep my mouth shut.’

‘I didn’t mean don’t talk at all. Just … not about Nanami.’

‘Sure.’ He wished that Hinata wasn’t sitting so far away … ‘Do you want to watch a movie or something? I’m not sure what they’ve got …’

‘Sure,’ Hinata said, sounding relieved. That was good – it meant Komaeda wasn’t getting away with something he shouldn’t. Because watching a movie meant they both had to sit on the bed. And even if it was a very big bed … that was still something that held possibility, wasn’t it?

From that bed, Hinata grabbed the remote and started flicking through the options. ‘Did you have a preference?’

‘Whatever you want to watch is fine.’ Komaeda climbed onto the bed next to him, propping a pillow under his back and resisting the urge to sniff it.

‘I feel like something I don’t have to think about too much.’

‘There’s already enough to think about here, isn’t there?’

‘Yeah.’

Hinata settled on a horror movie from a few years ago – Komaeda had seen it, but Hinata didn’t need to know that. Komaeda didn’t mind watching it again.

‘Should we put the lights out?’ he suggested.

‘Oh, sure.’

That was good, too. Sitting in the dark with someone … the only light the flicker from the screen. It was easy to imagine brushing hands, and letting them stay there …

It was probably better not to let himself think any further. It’s not like his luck would stretch that far anyway.

But then, was it so wrong to wish that it might?

The film started off seeming like it was a mystery – until the characters ended up at an old hotel (thankfully nothing like the hotel they were staying at) and it turned out it was actually a zombie film. Komaeda only half paid attention, more interested in Hinata’s reactions than in following the plot. The little jolts he gave when there was a jump scare. Which moments made him laugh. When the protagonist of the film committed to being the heroine’s sidekick, for the promise of a kiss …

Hinata shifted positions, and his leg brushed against Komaeda’s. Komaeda held absolutely still, but Hinata didn’t move away. Did it not register to him? Probably it didn’t register – after all, Hinata was the kind of guys who dated girls, and meant to be respectful, and he’d only invited Komaeda in because he felt bad for him being locked out. It didn’t mean anything. It didn’t even require Hinata to like Komaeda at any level – just not to actively dislike him.

Komaeda didn’t move away. He did make an effort to keep his eyes on the screen for a bit. There was a trick around unlocking the door – Komaeda should try and remember that; you never knew when it might come up.

Hinata shifted again, but it didn’t take his body out of contact with Komaeda’s. It would have been very easy for Komaeda to take his hand … or to touch his thigh … or to lean over and kiss him. The sort of thing he shouldn’t even think about it. What would Hinata do if Komaeda were to touch him deliberately? Why had Komaeda ever thought it would be nice if they were sitting closer together? It was torture.

And then Hinata put his hand on Komaeda’s leg, right there on the inner curve of Komaeda’s thigh.

‘Hinata-kun!’ Komaeda couldn’t help saying it, even as he was sure it was bad to draw attention to it.

‘What?’ Hinata said. For a moment their eyes met, Hinata’s face shadowed with the flicker of the TV screen. Hinata had lifted his hand away, but Komaeda had grabbed it.

‘It’s alright, Hinata-kun,’ Komaeda said. It was only because of the love-love essence, or whatever it was – and that made the whole situation so utterly tragic that Komaeda knew the aftermath (where Hinata went back to being a straight boy trying to date a pretty girl) would crush him enough that it would completely counteract whatever good luck could be said to exist in this –  the moment where they lay on the bed together with Komaeda’s fingers around Hinata’s hand. He traced his thumb against the curve of Hinata’s palm.

‘You can do whatever you like,’ Komaeda said. His voice sounded strange, half caught in the back of his throat. Like his body knew it was something that shouldn’t be said.

And Hinata leaned in and kissed him. His lips were softer than Komaeda could have expected; Komaeda had the sudden thought that he’d never been kissed before. Hinata cradled Komaeda’s face in his free hand; he was being very gentle.

Komaeda didn’t need him to be gentle. If Hinata treated him with too much kindness, it would surely kill him, kill one of them … which meant that Komaeda should stop things here. Except that he didn’t want to. It was selfish – or foolhardy – but he thought if Hinata stopped touching him he would probably … burst into tears or something. Die on the spot.

Komaeda let go of Hinata’s hand, but only so that he could grab the hem of Hinata’s shirt and slip his fingers against the fabric to reach his bare skin.

Aren’t you going to regret this in the morning, he didn’t say, his fingers finding Hinata’s spine. Hinata shuddered, and Komaeda liked how solid Hinata was against him, a real flesh and blood human being that Komaeda could hold onto.

You’ll regret this in the morning, right?

Hinata slipped his hand back between Komaeda’s legs, to cup Komaeda’s dick through the fabric of his trousers, and Komaeda felt that he could combust. Hinata could probably get him off without ever putting his bare hand on him; Komaeda didn’t know if that would be terrible or amazing. Probably amazing. But it would be wrong if Komaeda let him do that without touching him at all – and he did, desperately, want to know how Hinata’s dick would feel in the circle of his hand. How hard he might be. What noises he might make as Komaeda touched him.

Hinata tried very hard to make no noise at all. He wasn’t entirely successful.

That was how Komaeda and Hinata ended up jerking each other off, whilst on screen the hotel residents attempted to fight off the invading zombies. In retrospect, it was probably not the best choice of the film for the occasion. On the other hand, it was quite amusing to watch Hinata register post-coitus what was on the screen. He screwed his face up in a very particular way.

It made Komaeda want to kiss him again, but he wasn’t sure they were at the point where he could do that if it wasn’t the direct prelude to sex.

‘Should I rewind?’ Hinata said, like he wasn’t sure how they’d got to this point. In the film.

‘You can if you like. I’ve seen it before.’

‘You’ve seen it … why didn’t you say?’

Komaeda shrugged. ‘I didn’t mind watching it again.’

Hinata left it playing.

---

They didn’t talk about what they’d just done. Hinata didn’t touch Komaeda with any more intentionality, but let their bodies be lined up against each other.

Komaeda didn’t want to go back to his own room. He didn’t want to go back to this game they were caught up in. The curfew. The pretend dates that no-one intended to follow through on. The messed-up matchmaking that meant Komaeda had to go back to a bed where a woman who was hardly more than a stranger would probably not have changed the sheets (but it wasn’t like Komaeda was offering to help Hinata with that).

And tomorrow, he and Hinata would pretend this had never happened, because that was the game Hinata was playing. He hadn’t signed up for a dating show with the intent of ending up with someone like Komaeda.

It was probably for the best.

It had to be for the best.

‘I guess it should be safe to go back now,’ Komaeda said, once the credits had finished. ‘Or else Saihara-kun is even scarier than I could have imagined.’

Hinata, surprised, laughed.

‘I’ll see you later.’

‘Yeah.’

Komaeda slipped out the room, and walked back to his own. This time, the door was unlatched.