Mirai felt the redness of his face heat up. He shut his eyes. Then he began thinking of the ideas he really wanted to try himself. Unfortunately, they did not take Miyume's preferences to mind. His satisfaction was necessary. He had tried romance and charmed her at a whirlwind pace, and responded to her understanding with respect. He had struggled into having her give herself to him, seeking, obtaining and holding power. Now he saw the uses he had in keeping it unused and took her hands to bring them to his chest - wondering when, like the others, he would only grow bored of her. Would this really bring him freedom?

He was clearly very thoughtful. And now, with a murmur, stirring from his rest - not to speak but simply drink. And he stretched out a lithe arm to the small counter, where he placed his glass.

Whatever they did, wherever they were, he was certainly at least expecting self-opinionated and harsh people to confront him. Miyume was a nice girl and they knew exactly his type. It seemed that they were more aware of him than he - though there was something about it that left him dumb and confused at times. All he wanted was to make them writhe so much that he spent some time thinking of his position.

"I don't want to share," he said enticingly. "But if you ask nicely..."