"That's great, because we need to talk too," Ojiro responded.

            Louise looks at him, questioning.

            "What do you mean?"

            He took out his phone from his pocket and started tapping on it.

            "What are you doing?" She swears that every time she's seeing him holding his phone like that, something weird always comes up.

            "I'm texting Atsushi-san," he responded.

            Oh, God. I knew it.

            "He's on his way now to confiscate the cold wear I gave to you. Where did you put them? Oh yeah...the drawers," he continued tapping on his phone.

            "W-what? Hey! I love those cold wears!"

            "I know. But you won't be wearing something like that, especially around those guys."

            Louise just couldn't believe what she was hearing from him.

            "Excuse me?"

            "You know what you heard, Louise—"

            "It's just so unfair. You walk around with those tight pants, exposing your elephant to the world, and I can't wear the same? Why can't you just accept that I am a hot..." she squeezes her melons, flexing them for him. "...Goddess of supreme beauty and intellect, Latina, and you can't do anything about that?"

            He sighed, looking at her directly, like a warning.

            "You know that's not what I meant about this, Louise." His voice is always low and calm, even in arguments, but Louise knew better than to talk back when she heard that tone of voice of his.

            "Fine," she breathes, crossing her arms.

            Her life as a woman in Japan has always been in danger. It was filled with her battles with men's perversion, especially since she's a gaijin. It was known how the majority of men in Japan treat women is long been rooted in the dark past their culture has always been stuck with. And if you're a woman and a foreigner, things are even worse.

            Louise felt like she's just looked down upon as a sex object the way other Japanese men on the road, from her work and even in the rink, lust over her body with their obvious stares.

And Ojiro was well aware of it. He's always done everything that he can to protect her. He knows that he can't always look out for her, so it's just wise for her to bring  deadly weapons with her every time she goes out. But sometimes, Ojiro tends to overthink the situation to the point of always reminding her to be mindful of how she dresses.

Learning the country's proper etiquette for dressing up as a woman is important, and it has always been one of the things that shocks Louise culturally. In Japan, showing off legs in an outfit is just fine, but exposing your bosom means you're a slut.

It's just that, in Japan, the considered sexiest part of a woman is not the hips or legs, like in most foreign countries, but the nape and neck. So covering it and the entire shoulder without exposing the skin of the upper body is their modest way of dressing up.

That's why she chose to understand if Ojiro would remind her to keep her hair down to avoid exposing her neck to creeps or not to dress too fitted, showing the curve of her big melons, but to her, that even with his idea of protection, they both know that it won't change anything.

Its not how someone dress up, really. For her, creeps will always be forever creeps.

The society will always be so fucked up.

            "You really don't have any idea how you affect those guys, aren't you?" he murmured. "This..." his eyes rave through her body, "...is not a free show for others to see, got that? It's exclusively mine...and mine alone."

            Louise looks back to his dark eyes silently. Not knowing why her throat has suddenly gone dry and her heart is dangerously beating faster than normal.

She didn't remember Ojiro getting this possessive before.

            "So now, you'll be wearing this from now on," He takes off his jacket, drapes it over her, and then zips it up to her throat.

"H-hey!" she growled in Spanish and squirmed inside the jacket like a worm. "Take this ugly jacket off of me. There's no way I'll let myself look like a potato beside your querida!"

            "My...what?" he looks at her cluelessly.

            "My what?" she mimics him sarcastically. "Oh, come on. How long are you going to make me look like a stupid fool in front of everyone, Ojiro? You should at least have the dick to tell me, 'Hey, babe, my Japonesa de querida will be back, and she will be in my team from now on, and you can't do anything about that--"

"Hold on.... You mean, Kaede? So you're avoiding me because of her?"

"Oh, I didn't know that chica had a name."

Ojiro face palms, finally catching up to what is happening.

"Who told you about this?" His voice suddenly becomes firm.

"Does it matter?" she snaps back.

"Don't tell me Nissho has something to do about this."

"Ichika, Kaimen...the kids. The whole country knows Ojiro. Well...except me," she pressed. "I can't believe  you did this. You should have atleast mentioned anything before...right? Like it's the basic fucking knowledge, Ojiro. Ayyy..." she gives him a Spanish eye roll. A body language he learned from her which only means...he messed up.

But he didn't waver and sticks to that firm, cold voice of his.

"Because it's not important," he flat-out said, making her jaw drop, not believing what she just heard.

She understands it; she knows how important it is for him to keep things private, even his past romansa, because of his cultural upbringing influences.

But seeing him react like this, she's just cannot bring her self to process it so well.

Not important?

What the fuck is he saying?

            "It already happened in the past. It's been a long time ago. I'm just a kid back then, and we've already gotten over it. There's no point digging into that now."

"My point is, it should have been so kind of you if you let me know about this, right? I don't care if you fucked her six years ago or you..." She saw him roll his eyes at the ceiling, which made her pause.

She narrows her eyes to him and continues. "So you really did fucked her back then—"

"I'm just 18, have a huge crush on his senpai, and just won the Olympics. We had a party, and then it just happened. Those are reckless days. Don't we all have a phase like that?"

She catches her breath, processing what she has heard.

Now that Louise thinks about it, at some point in her life, she sometimes wonders how Ojiro became a good lover. The way he kisses her and holds her was just so good...so perfect. He always knows how to bring out the wild side of her, but now it all explains.

She just didn't expect him to learn from the experience with a senpai...

"Hey, hey...Listen to me." He holds her shoulders turning her to him. "Everything that happened between me and Kaede, that's all in the past now. We only respect each other as a fellow skater and a friend, nothing more."

She glared up at him in silence.

"Get off of me!" She slaps away his hands. "So you're friends now, huh? Great. That's why you could stand there giggling like a high school girl beside that mucha querida Santa diabolica—"

            "W-wait. What is this? Are you jealous?"

            "What? Me, the Goddess of supreme beauty, is jealous? Huh," she flips her hair confidently and goes on talking, expressing her rage in Spanish.

            He watches her talk non-stop, and he swears he better listen, but he just can't help but take note of the blush creeping on her cheeks; her knitted brows making her big eyes more expressive; and her lips redder in cold.

She looks like an angry potato doll in his big jacket.

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