[ It's hard for him to pinpoint exactly what feels so wrong about this whole conversation. Haruka's always been a bit ... off, after all. And plenty of this weird behavior falls in line with the shit he'd pull. The inability to maintain proper personal space -- yeah, seems about right. The off-kilter questions -- sure. Even the weird, unsettling glint to the eye peering at him isn't the deciding factor -- Haruka's been a bit weird since the first trial ended after all.

But somehow, all of those puzzle pieces in conjunction just feel wrong in a way that makes his skin crawl. And when 'Haruka' leans in close enough that he feels the brush of what feels like fur against his wrist -- ]

Oi.

[ The only warning Aak gets is a hard tense and a brief baring of jagged teeth before Fuuta abruptly grabs at his shirtfront. And while the display of force stops there, because for all his bristling and growling Fuuta will always balk at the prospect of using force, Fuuta does nail him with a hard glare, clearly pissed-off and on-edge by this point. ]

... are you really Haruka?

[ His fingers twist harder into the fabric of Aak's shirt, probably enough that the neckline starts digging in painfully, but Fuuta's in no mood to ease off. Especially because he's partially distracted trying to blink the weird fuzziness out of his field of vision. -- why does 'Haruka's' outline keep fritzing and blurring? His free hand rises to hastily scuff across his eye, trying to clear his vision. ]

If this is some -- some bullshit game or something, I'm not interested. You better not just be messing with me. Or him.