“What’s up with Fumi?” Donato asks, scoffing at the small, scowling ghoul who hasn’t touched her blood wine.
“Lovesick, can’t you tell?” Nico asks breathily. Souta whistles.
“Shut up,” Fumi mutters.
“Aw, is your heart hurting because your true love might leave you if he saw the depths of your depravity?” Uta snickers as he sips his wine.
Fumi’s mouth opens. “You’re one to talk.”
“Shots have been fired,” Itori jokes. Roma nudges her, and Itori slyly turns her phone on “record.”
“Okay.” Uta eyes her. “I’ll bite. What do you mean?”
“I mean your fluttering heart around that dashing Raven, even though you like to keep your misdeeds on the side, too,” Fumi shoots back. “Because you’re in love, too! Hypocrite.”
Uta sputters as the rest of the clowns laugh. “I know you are, but what am I?”
“Now that’s just lame, Uta.” Fumi shakes her head. “I expected better.”
“On the bright side,” says Itori. “That’s as close to an admission as anyone’s ever gotten him.”