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Summary
Hokuto pressed his blade a little more firmly; it was a wickedly sharp thing, and any more force would break the skin. He had it right over his jugular, where his blood pulsed beneath his skin. “Are you enjoying this?”
“No,” muttered Natsuki.
“I think you are,” Hokuto said, letting his voice drop even lower, sultry and singsong.
“I am not.”
“Admit it.” Hokuto’s blade bit into his skin; not enough to kill him, or even truly wound him, but just enough to draw blood. Just enough to make him feel it. “Admit that you’re enjoying this.”
“Never.”
Or - Natsuki confronts his brother's killer at the Kamunabi headquarters. It doesn't quite go as he expected.