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She, to her credit, only blushes a little when he finds her school uniform in her closet. It's her own from, oh, too long ago now, but not long enough to be rid of it. His eyes narrow on her enough for the flush on her cheeks to intensify, now burning up the sides of her neck, too."You're embarrassed," he points out, with the inelegant bluntness of expression that she's gotten used to, heaven help her. "Why?""It's just that... well, I should have been rid of that a long time ago.""It's more than that." His voice is firm and certain.She huffs. "The last time I wore that was when I was undercover.""For what?" he asks.She presses her mouth together, reluctant to answer. She closes her eyes and smiles, tight-lipped. Her cheeks cool a little. "You see, I was young-looking enough to act like bait on the trains." She opens her eyes, gazing at him, a challenge in her eyes. "For molesters.""Ah."She tries to take the uniform away from him, to stuff it back into her closet. He doesn't let go. Giving him an exasperated look, she says, "Let me put it away, already.""Wait," he says. She raises her eyebrows.He continues, "This still fits you?""I guess. It's been a few years since then. Come on, give it over.""Prove it," he says."What?""I want to see you wear it."She stares at him, mouth open, the images conjured in her head sending heat back up into her cheeks. It takes a moment for her to react the way she should. She should have scoffed. Should have laughed. She grabs the suit out of his hands, her ears burning, exclaiming, "No!" The denial sounds hollow, without conviction. She shoves the hanging clothes aside in her closet until she reaches the wall. She hangs the uniform up, drags all the other clothing over until she can't see it, and turns around.He's not there. She stands there, mouth open in disbelief. What game is he playing at, exactly? She brings her hands up to her cheeks, cool against the warmth there, and thinks about how different this would be from riding the train, from something she did for her job. She could play along... but only with her own rules.She yells, "You old lecher!" She's sure that he's still somewhere in her apartment, darn his sneaky ways.He reappears at the door of her bedroom. "I am not old."She smiles, smug in her attack, "You're nine years older than I am."He turns away, saying, "Immature.""Say it to my face, Yukawa!"He turns back again. "I said, 'that was immature'." He smiles, one of those insincere social ones that make her want to grind her teeth together.She feels tempted to give him the red eye, but that would just prove his point. She settles for swinging away from him and slamming the door to her closet closed. She mutters to herself, not caring if he hears it, "Still a lecher, though."He asks, "How many did you catch?"She smiles, despite herself. She feels the same thrill of pride she always gets at the thought of how many men she managed to trick and arrest. She turns around. He's leaning against the door jamb, arms crossed. She says, "Sixty-five.""And how many times did you wear the uniform?""Only once. Most of the time I wore miniskirts."He puts his knuckles to his lips. "Hm," he answers.She stares at him. Before she can stop herself, she asks, "What?" It comes out flat. The reason why he's not saying anything at the moment is plain. "You're not going to leave me alone about it, are you?"More silence. He lowers his hand back down to his crossed arm. He's so adept at boring a hole in her skull. Not that she hasn't developed defenses against that focus."You're playing with me. Fine. I remember, once, you scolded me about judging on appearances. I called you a perv and you just slid right out of admitting anything. If you want me to put that sailor suit on, I want to hear you say it.""Say what, exactly?"She walks closer to him, coming to a stop just before invading his personal space. She smiles, the tip of her tongue thoughtful on her upper lip. She cocks her head to the side. "I want you to say, 'Just because I wear a serious face all the time, that doesn't mean I'm not perverted'."He straightens up, arms uncrossing, and opens his mouth. She raises a hand and says, "But not just that.""What then?""Ask me to put it on. Don't just tell me to. I can still say no.""Fair enough," he says.There's a pause in which he just looks at her. Her smug smile fades in the forbidding silence. She makes a small moue and says, "Well? You brought it up and now you don't want to play? Fine, I have things to do."She starts away, her hands flying up in dismissal as she walks past him, but he says, "Kaoru," and stops her with a hand on her shoulder. His little finger brushes against her neck. The shiver that dances across her shoulders, making them quiver, is entirely involuntary.He takes his hand from her shoulder and leans in. She keeps very still, because if she doesn't, she'll turn and kiss him, and that would be giving in, and she doesn't want that at all.He repeats the words she told him to say, his mouth close to her ear, voice pitched only to her, smooth and deep, and she shuts her eyes, breathing in his presence. This... this really could be fun, and she wants it now, with an intensity she was unaware she could even feel about anything like this. He moves even closer. He can't resist a final word, as he adds, "Or you." His lips brush against the upper curve of her ear.She turns, bringing her gaze up to meet his. They are so close that she has to bend her neck all the way back just to get a good look at him. She's very conscious of the warmth of their bodies, as close as they are, but still he's not touching her. She looks down and places her hand on his chest, splaying her fingers across it, at rest."I win," she says."This was not a contest," he says."Even if it wasn't, I've made my point, haven't I?" She smiles up at him, triumphant. She pitches her voice low, deliberate and sultry, as she says, "Ask me." His heartbeat leaps beneath her palm, and a muscle twitches in his cheek. She waits, eyes bright, delighted.