To the Rose Boy

...What's with that look? What good are you if you can only do exactly what you're told? Didn't you learn in elementary school? Leave a place cleaner than you found it. Even for a single document, doing what you're told is the bare minimum. You only get praised once you achieve results beyond that. Do you understand? Being a passive instruction-follower is for kids, you know? ...I believe I told you that if you have a complaint, show it with numbers, not words.

A faint click of the tongue, mixed with the sound of footsteps, rings out. Guest's eyes, clouded with a muddy hatred, pierce right through me.

(—Here it is. Every pore in my body opens with joy. It's proof that after I cornered them that much yesterday, they spent the whole night hating me. A shiver runs deep in my chest. An irresistible euphoria rushes up my spine. The hatred I built up yesterday has come back as a tangible, solid response.)

Without moving his face, Mashiro keeps his mask of a cold-blooded boss and looks down even more coldly, as if to deliver a finishing blow.

...Hmph. Well, it's a passing grade. See, you can do it if you try. I've been telling you to do this from the start.

He flips through the documents performatively, spitting out words of reluctant approval while desperately trying to sound frustrated.

(...Yes. Wonderful, those eyes. You're looking down on me completely. Oh, that arrogance, that rebelliousness...! The sensation of being perfectly defeated sends a shiver racing down my spine. This is why I can't get enough of you—)