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”Let me tell you a little something about Hanamiya Makoto. Take it from someone who’s known him since he was a mere bud, and watched him blossom into the prickly flower you know and ought to loathe. They say that even the sun has its spots and the rose has its thorns and it’s all right to love them anyway, no matter how big the flaws, but that’s wrong; propaganda shoved down your throat to accept abuse.
“Hurts, I know, confronting the truth always does. We don’t wanna know these things and we don’t wanna believe them about ourselves, about the people we love, but it’s real, it exists, and you have to deal. I’m no moral person by any means, or so I’m told. Don’t think I tell you this because I care about you. Your wounded knee or your wounded pride or those scratch marks on the back of your neck peeking up from behind the shirt – don’t worry, I don’t think your friends noticed – I really don’t give a crap about any of it. Your business is yours, and if you wanna ruin your life and your body, then who am I to stop you? I’ll tell you.
“I’m just gonna give you some advice, lover to lover. Sounds confusing, saying it like that, and misleading as well. You and I fill the same spot but we’re far from equal. That boy you worship and wish you didn’t, the one you wish will change with the power of love, the Hanamiya Makoto you foolishly believe to one day return that cheery, ugly smile of yours; he isn’t for you. You pine for him with the same fervour with which he pines for me, though the kicker here is I actually give him what he wants, from time to time, rather than kick him when he’s down like he does you.
“He’s mine. I don’t wanna sound needy by being possessive, but there’s no other way to say it. I found him in all of his twisted origins and gave him an outlet. I nurtured that cruel streak in him and I mean to harvest what has become of him. That petty, sadistic little brat we both love, you and I, has been bound to me from the start. You were just some side-show entertainment.
“Our relationship isn’t defined by any rules and I always knew he’d find unspoken boundaries to break anyway. He rebels against me in each little way he can, so sure of himself that I’ll still have him if he’s horny enough. It’s so enticing, watching him beg, but I don’t suppose you’re familiar with that look. Judging from that softness in your eyes, I’ll wager he likes to be the one controlling you and all that unmoving muscle, straddling you and riding you like one would a horse. If he even considers you that much.
“You must have had the same thought a million times, haven’t you? You must have wanted to call it off and save yourself the humiliation of anyone finding out. But he’s so addictive, I don’t blame you. He plays you the way he wishes he could play me and you let him the way I never will. He gets on your nerves and twists your values inside out until you’re panting for him, and each time you want to call quits he shows up and lets you taste his poison. How sweet it tastes, doesn’t it? Despite his fondness for bitterness.
“I’m a jealous kind of guy. I might not look like it, but I don’t want to share someone so precious to me. He’s one of few who can keep up with me so well – props to you for staying for this long and listening to me go on and on like this – and he’s unpredictable enough to never make me sorry for working so hard for him. But this little side game of his has lost its amusement for me, and he will discard you before long.
“You might wonder why I won’t let it run its course. I can tell that he doesn’t suck your cock so much anymore since he no longer tastes of your sperm when we kiss. He has a flare for dramatics, that one. He loves elaborate finales and he loves crushing dreams and hearts, don’t you know it. If he can win too easily he won’t be amused, and if he’s defeated he’ll sulk. You might know from his home, if he’s ever taken you there, that his family fortune left him spoiled. If his plans don’t go according to plan he’ll throw a tantrum and he’ll only cheer at the price of others’ pain. It’s one of those qualities that I alone treasure about him, one of those characteristics I’m sure you despise, and won’t ever grow to appreciate like I do.
“So here’s the thing. Soon he’ll break your heart and make it a big scene. He’ll be more terrible to you than he’s ever been before, which frankly, says a lot, with your rocky track record. If I can read you this well after one meet and greet, I can’t fathom how intimately he knows you by now. I wager he knows each nook and cranny of your personality, having studied with me and all, and he knows how to twist each part. He’ll destroy you mentally and he will scar your body and heart both. He’ll laugh and call you a masterpiece, and then he’ll come to me to celebrate his victory in carnal pleasures. The kind of sex where he doesn’t fight his desire to kiss me at all, the rarest of them all, even though he acts like he’s a winner born.
“But I don’t want that. I prefer watching him grovel at my feet. I prefer the sweetness of his failure and tasting defeat on his tongue. See him broken and torn up over his missteps is sweet as honey, the misfortune of a sadist so terribly ironic and erotic both.
“So Kiyoshi Teppei, I am telling you all this so he’ll fail. You won’t be torn apart by his breakup because I have already destroyed your relationship. You won’t cry in front of him and you won’t let his laughter get to you because I have already painted the picture in your mind, and you know it to be true. Hanamiya Makoto won’t break you down and he won’t gloat, and we’re all spared your involvement with him any longer, this pitiful game you’ve thought to be some sort of tragic love tale.
“Go now and weep. Toughen up and wait for the inevitable. Sleep with him if he wishes and tell him that it’s just a game for you as well, that you never meant anything romantic. Say that you hate his person if you are a talented liar, as that smile you’re wearing suggests. It doesn’t look fake at all, but you’re not fooling me, who knows what he has done to you.
“I apologize for the inconvenience of this whole ordeal. He is a terrible human being and he plays too roughly when given the chance. Blame me for it and all of his faults, and endeavour his hurting words and acts with that burning hatred you’re feeling for me, through directing it at him. There is no saving him and you know it, because I can tell you’re not misjudging me.
“Maybe letting it get this far was a mistake, but it sure was lovely to punish him for sleeping around, and drag your name from his lips while he laughed at your sorry state. But he never told you about me, so I don’t blame you for it, and I hold no ill will. Your role has merely expired and offers nothing new to me or him, and in a relationship such as ours, does it really matter who takes out the trash?
“You must think poorly of me by now, I can see you wanting to leave, and I think it’s all right, since I’ve already said all which needs to be shared between you and I. Let’s just make something clear, for the record to show, when you wallow in grief over this ending. I’m not cruel, but unlike you, I’m loved by evil.”