Kakegurui Fine Wine [KIRARI X SAYAKA] -- ONESHOTS

Chapter 134: Unholy Sins: Makuro's Torture

"Ah- my apologizes...President..I--I shouldn't have-!"

Sayaka blushes embarrassingly, her feminine petite face heating up to resemble Kirari's red-flamed jacket, as her violet shimmering eyes nearly fall out from her skull when she realizes one of her hands was  firmly seated on Kirari's breasts, while the other hand kept her hostage, like logs pressing down heavily on their victim from above.

"My apologizes...my apologizes--"

She quickly mumbles abruptly as she feels a cloud of unease forming in her spine, but Kirari only responded with a series of heart-felt chuckles, quietly laughing to herself at Sayaka's shy nature, which seemed to only get worse in dire and stressful situations. It seems she found this nature of hers to be quite "Cute", yet she'd never tell her so.

Immediately, Sayaka quickly retreats from her awkward position, as she speedily gets off the president with a hasty-blush and a semi-cough, her heart beating like a ticking time-bomb at 120 miles per hour. She takes a deep breath and exhales dramatically, trying to knock some sense into herself by resorting to logic, then she cups her own arm and shyly stands facing Kirari, before the President slowly gathers herself together and stands up. She dusts herself quite casually, and then takes Sayaka by the hand, leading her away back inside, as the duo take the dusty old metal stairs downwards, confidently paving their path back into Kirari's secret basement cellar a few grounds below, only to find the deranged white haired man cleaned up smoothly by the medics, his bullets removed and wounds sewn up with thready stitches. He was barely alive and shivering as a cold bucket of water was poured over his head to make him tremble, while Kirari smirked, approaching him slowly. 

(It seems she she knew he didn't have long left to live, so she'd have to coerce him into agony to feed her guilty pleasure)

She removed part of the black duct tape from his mouth brashly to hear him incoherently mumbling, while she made insulting comments, before he could taste the freedom of speech and mumble back in self-defense. He was taken aback by her cold, but elegant nature.

(It seems she wasn't set on killing him, just yet)

"How does it feel to be completely stranded in my basement Shikigami, Makuro?"

She deviously whispered trailing her sharp fingertips like deadly claws, all the way across his blood stained chin with a tight squeeze hard enough to snap jaws, as her oceanic blue eyes grew colder, her demeanor grew bolder, as it took upon the feeling of the arctic winter. She watched the man struggle to breathe as he wanted to scream at her so badly, but he couldn't do so yet, because he had a rag inside his mouth, while the duct-tape prevented him from speaking. He tried to groan and shook his head backwards, implying his discomfort and frustration, but all Kirari did was chuckle, and mock him to his face, while he could do nothing but angrily eye her and take this bad treatment head-on.

(It was obvious the man would not rate his stay as a 5-star hotel star suite, but Kirari would never give him the pleasure of sympathy)

"Perhaps, you like the iconic view of my lovely vestibule?"

She smirks, stepping back away a bit to demonstrate the absurd Satanist artwork behind her, as she goes over to fondly touch the old frescoes, dyed by the presence of burgundy blood, which revealed two bloody goats and three burgundy circles, each fostering the silhouettes of headless men, making the man second-guess his life decisions, as a lump of uneasiness formed inside his beaten throat.