Liza's words hung in the air, a perfect, glittering trap. First bite is for the winner. And you, Kisaragi Samantha, definitely won that round.
She held the spoon out, a single, perfect slice of strawberry offered up like a trophy. Her eyes were sparkling, a universe of playful challenge and genuine affection swirling in their brown depths. The girl I had known my whole life was sitting right in front of me, teasing me, flirting with me, completely oblivious to the fact that my victory had been engineered by a cosmic entity with a twisted sense of humor and a penchant for melodrama.
The guilt was a sharp, physical thing, a hook in my gut. I had manipulated her. I had used this horrifying power to toy with her heart, all to clear a mission objective. The old me, the real me—if she even existed anymore—would have been horrified. She would have apologized, backpedaled, tried to undo the damage.
