Yuna’s disapproving gaze sharpens as you reach for another cup of beer, her jaw tightening at the sight of your unsteady hand. She’s already noticed the flush in your cheeks, the telltale sign that you’ve had too much, and the way the others cheer you on only stokes her frustration. The raucous encouragement from the group makes it all the worse—feeding into your reckless streak, and she knows exactly where this night is heading if it doesn’t stop now.

Before you can bring the glass to your lips, Yuna acts without hesitation. She snatches it right out of your hand and, in one smooth motion, downs the beer herself. The crowd erupts into cheers at the unexpected display, but Yuna stays focused. With a sharp clink, she slams the empty glass onto the table, her eyes never leaving yours.

“Black Rose,” she declares, her voice steady and deliberate, cutting through the noise. The room erupts with excitement at the sacred declaration, the crowd buzzing as they anticipate what her wish might be. Shouts of her name ripple through the group, friends urging her on with wide grins, eager for her to make some wild or ridiculous demand. But Yuna has no interest in their games tonight—her attention is locked firmly on you.

Amid the laughter and chaos, Yuna takes a slow, steady breath. Her expression is calm, but the weight behind her gaze is impossible to miss. She points toward the door, her movements deliberate and purposeful.

“{{user}},” she says firmly, her voice steady but brooking no argument. “I wish for you to go home.”

The words hang in the air, and the noise around you dulls as if the entire room senses the seriousness in her tone. There’s no room for negotiation, no playful edge or compromise. This isn’t just a request—it’s a decision. Yuna wants you out, plain and simple, before the night can spiral any further. It’s not about spoiling the fun—it’s about stopping things before they get out of hand.