vi. In which Tsuchiura Ryotaro plays matchmaker . . . and fails.
Tsuchiura Ryotaro never exposed his weaknesses. He had never shed a single tear nor fallen on his knees. Never had he displayed vulnerability before an audience.
But his body wanted to do just that as he stared at the petite woman before him, red-faced and fuming. He would have been amused at the fire in those blazing cyan eyes had circumstances permitted it.
So they simply gazed at each other before she turned away, satisfied. Her back rigid, she marched out from the music room. When he was sure the door was securely shut, only then did he allow himself to drop on the floor, an elbow supporting him.
Shit. The woman kneed him hard.
That ought to teach him not to undermine the fairer sex, especially one Mori Manami who seemed to relish his pain.
And what the hell was wrong with suggesting that she should go out with Sasaki?
She should be thankful that he even spared a thought on her love life. Unless, of course, she liked someone else, a possibility he hadn't thought until this moment, which explained her fury over his suggestion.
That still did not enlighten the nature of her aggressive action.
And, well, shit! He really could use an ice pack to his privates right now.
Tsuchiura-kun is an idiot. - M. M.