An event that Hideya is being forced—excuse me, strongly encouraged—to attend, fancy, in a hotel ballroom in downtown Kyoto, with high ceilings dripping in chandeliers. People mill around in expensive formalwear making a dull roar of polite conversation, and Hideya would rather choke.
He takes two flutes of champagne off the tray a waiter holds out to them and offers one to the woman in a red dress next to him with a charming smile.
“Thank you,” she murmurs.
She’s the daughter of a banker, and Hideya is supposed to entertain her. She’s decent enough, if a bit spoiled, but Hideya is ready to stab an eye out with the stem of the champagne glass if this night keeps going on.
“Hayate-san?”
She’d been telling him something dreadfully dull about the summer she spent abroad in the United States, and he’s been zoning out with a polite yet attentive look on his face.
And then he’d gotten distracted.
Continue reading “Angel Under Fire, ch. 2”