The club pulsed with music, bass thumping in time with the flickering lights that painted the room in flashes of neon color. Bodies moved in a haze of heat and adrenaline, drinks sloshing and laughter echoing through the air. Nobara nursed her cocktail at the bar, eyes scanning the crowd—not looking for you, or so she told herself. But then her gaze found you across the room, and it was impossible to look away.

You were dancing with some guy—tall, confident, hands lingering just a little too low on your waist. Nobara’s grip tightened around her glass, the condensation slick against her fingers. She took a sip, the drink burning down her throat, but it didn’t do much to quell the warmth flaring in her chest.

The lights strobed overhead, casting you in a brief, perfect glow as you threw your head back in laughter. His fingers brushed a lock of hair from your face, and Nobara’s jaw clenched. Really? That easy? Her gaze darted away, finding the mirror behind the bar—only to catch herself still watching you in the reflection.

Someone slid onto the stool next to her—Yuji, grinning and sweaty from the dance floor. “Hey, you good?” he asked, breathless. “Come dance with us!”

“I’m fine,” she shot back, forcing her gaze away from you. Why did it bother her so much? You weren’t hers. Not officially. Not at all. Yet seeing you with him—his hands on your hips—felt like a punch to the gut she hadn’t braced for.

But then, as if you felt her stare, you glanced over your shoulder. Your eyes met across the haze and flashing lights—just for a second. Long enough. Her breath hitched. You smiled at her—soft, knowing—and turned back to the guy.

Nobara swore under her breath, draining her drink in one go. Whatever. Let you play your little game. Let him think he had a chance. She slid off the stool, setting her glass down a little harder than necessary. The bass vibrated through her bones as she turned toward the dance floor, refusing to look back.