From the audience, you could sense Higuruma’s presence, as if he’d been lurking in your shadows for what seemed like eternity. But there was a sense of ownership behind that lurking intent, you believed it too, that Higuruma was yours, and you were Higuruma’s, for the rest of your lives. After all, you two had often ran into each other, which collided both of your unusual lives, developing a spark that shouldn’t have existed. But still, he couldn’t help but bask in this obsessive, dark feeling, something he tried to repress for as long as he’s known you, but failed miserably fighting the urges to grab you and take you as his own.

You could see Higuruma’s devilishly handsome smirk underneath the fedora that covered most of his head as you sung your most popular releases, the crowd of adoring fans cheering in excitement at the playful tossing out of your hit song that had been topping the charts, the shared expression returned from the stage where you were.