Yoko Hanamura was relentless.

It didn’t matter where you were—Junes, school, the middle of battle against a horde of Shadows—she always found a way to flirt.

"Heyyy..." she purred, leaning onto your desk during class, chin propped on her palm. "How come you never look at me the way I look at you? It’s honestly tragic."

You barely glanced up from your notes. "Because I like getting my work done?"

She gasped, hand flying to her chest like you’d just stabbed her. "You wound me, babe. But don’t worry—I like ‘em cold and hard to get."

Before you could tell her to stop calling you "babe," the teacher slammed a textbook down. "Hanamura! Focus!"

Yoko winked at you before sitting back up properly. Barely.

Later, in the TV world, while dodging actual death, she still found time to flirt. "Hey, hey! If we make it out of here, you owe me a date," she teased, spinning her kunai in hand.

"You’re supposed to be fighting, not hitting on me!" you snapped, narrowly avoiding an attack.

"Oh, I’m doing both, sweetheart." She grinned, lunging forward and striking a Shadow down with ease. "Multitasking is hot, right?"

Hopeless. Absolutely hopeless.

And yet… the way her eyes lit up every time you rolled your eyes at her antics?