Kakegurui Fine Wine [KIRARI X SAYAKA] -- ONESHOTS

Chapter 165: Tarnished Love

The tapestry of their heated reunion is suddenly abruptly torn apart by a thunderous collision, the ominous percussion of Fabian, Sunaka's long-time Bentley limousine driver, stamping his rigid foot onto the metal brake pedal to avoid the surging horde thronging across the storied expanse of Takeshita-dori road sidewalk. His face, typically placid, contorts with deep concentration as he battles to maintain control over the leviathan vehicle, before putting a halt to the vehicle's speed and stopping.

However, this sudden jolting results in chaos which erupts in the vehicle's cabin, the world reels as gravity takes hold in a quick perverse ballet, Kirari and Sunaka revolving in the scant moments between breaths. Sunaka, a deadly wisp of a woman, with a killer's grace, brandishes a gleaming knife towards her, the blade appearing like a ghost from the recesses of her dress. Kirari, unflinching, lands atop Sunaka, her grip around the Arabian woman’s neck a vice, the danger in her oceanic blue eyes eclipsed only by the theatrical smirk that danced upon her face as she demonstrated zero fear towards the knife.

The stalemate persists, their standoff echoing their past, painted in love and peril. Sunaka's laughter, a sudden torrent in the silent vacuum of the vehicle, erupts in wicked mirth, her hazel brown eyes reveling in the pandemonium mirrored in the world beyond their confines.

"You really haven't changed a bit... I see you still relish the feel of a woman's throat between your fingers"

She purred seductively, the cruel mirth glinting in her brown eyes like emerald. Her soft lips curl into a predatory grin, revealing her serrated teeth. The knife in her hand, cool and remorseless, slithers beneath Kirari's flame-licked jacket, the deadly strike biding its time, as it makes its way under her blouse, to remind herself of what used to transpire behind closed doors.

Her other hand, a sensual ghost, traces a path up Kirari's brave face, tantalizing in its slow progress. The suggestive flicker of Sunaka's tongue against her own lips is a tantalizing promise, a looming specter of what could be, would Kirari decide to give into her ferocious play.

"You know,"

She silently murmurs lost in the moment, leaning closer intimately, her voice a sultry whisper of slutiness against Kirari's ear with a brash breath against the side of her neck.

"I'm still tempted to take things to the chambers tonight, for old times sake..."

She winks at her provocatively with suggestion, like a courteous snake slithering to invite her into her royal chambers. Her feminine hand caresses Kirari's elegant cheek softly as a reminder of their sexual past, a provocative play, but it's thwarted with a swift flick of Kirari's fingers that brush her off. The gesture, simple but firm, is a silent rebuke, an unmistakable rejection to Sunaka's adulterous advances. Kirari would never stoop low enough to remake love for old times sake. It seemed she would never dare to betray Sayaka's trust.

"You've misjudged me quite, Sunaka. The issue isn't temptation; it is choice. You'll have to find someone else to bewitch tonight, for I'll never be ensnared by you."

Kirari's direct words hang heavy in the air as her slender feminine fingers ghost over Sunaka's lips with familiar sensuality, a spectral echo of intimate moments long past. Rising like a phoenix, she extricates herself from their compromising position, Sunaka's lethal knife retracting with a hiss of amusement. The space between them, scant moments before an arena of tension and danger, returns to a semblance of its former, benign form of mere silent tension.

Regality restored, the duo retreat to the sanctuary of the white leather seats, the echoes of their conflict quickly swallowed by the Bentley's plush interior as Fabian résumés driving, this time choosing to drive the blonde woman back home. Sunaka, every bit the predator, pours herself and Kirari another bracing measure of whiskey to restore the atmosphere, the amber liquid swirling in the crystal glasses like a miniature storm lighted by the sunlight. A glance, a question draped in a shroud of innocence, as she becomes eager to find out if Kirari had ever been one with her in practice.

"Kirari, did you ever actually love me?"

Her eyes, pools of hazel mystery, catch Kirari's, a silent plea woven into the question. Kirari, arms crossed defensively over her chest, legs folded with deceptive elegance, seems to consider the inquiry, the delicate cogs of her mind whirring audibly.

"I did once."

She admittedly confesses, the statement bare, a tacit admission of honesty. No explanations follow through the silence, yet the implication dangles in the air like a specter - a clear betrayal had occurred in their past, the memory of it echoing bitterly within the luxurious vehicle, as Sunaka continues to wonder why Kirari had betrayed her.

Sunaka yearns to probe further, to dissect the riddles that Kirari presents with such casual cruelty. But the opportunity is snatched away when the car door swings open, Fabian's face appearing in the wedge of light, a harbinger of their journey's end as Kirari is escorted over to her mansion prestigiously after the long midnight drive.

It seems the driver had not lost his respect for the girl, who had always been on good terms with him behind Sunaka's back in the old days.

"Your driver has an impeccable memory."

Kirari comments wryly with a positive remark, the irony not lost on her. Gracefully, she descends from the vehicle like a queen, her remarkable polished silhouette a striking contrast against the sprawling mansion beyond, which leaves Sunaka in awe when she realized much has indeed changed over the courses of the years.

However, Sunaka's voice snakes after her, a low, teasing challenge that served to act as the last bite of evening to upset her former lover.

"You'd better keep that little dove of yours safe, Kirari. I'm quite eager to taste what drew you to her..."

Her words simmer with implication and suspense as she clutched her whiskey glass with force, the threatening undertone lurking beneath the surface as she licks her pink lips aggressively, before digging her long manicured nails into the soft leather seat of her Bentley, while her hazel brown eyes continued to stare at the curvy blonde woman, whose back continued to remain casted away from her.

However, Kirari isn't one to be shaken by cheap threats. A ripple of laughter slips from her blueberry lips as she turns back, her eyes gleaming with a dangerous promise in her stance.

"Your audacity is truly remarkable. I'd be wary, though. Cats may have nine lives, but you, dear, you've only got one."

Her gaze, sharp and relentless without mercy, spears into Sunaka, the implicit warning clear as a death knell.

"It would be a tragic waste to hasten your demise, wouldn't it?"

Kirari flashes a final, damning smirk before disappearing into the caliginous night, leaving Sunaka alone with her driver, awash in the lingering chill of her words, to wonder if anything could ever truly frighten Kirari.

It seemed her former lover had not changed. This was the woman she had once loved, now a formidable adversary. And in the swirling tempest of their impending conflict, the ironclad truth was laid bare: Sunaka was not just up against a woman, she was battling a force of nature, a relentless storm ready to decimate anything in its path.

.........

Meanwhile a certain girl had lurked in the shadows, her eyes observing each and every move as she took notice of the strange encounter.

It seems nothing could prevent the turmoil that would emerge in the academy next. A showdown awaited to see whether Kirari could be dethroned, or whether she would continue to rule all above others.