Hiruma's grin fades completely, like a dark cloud passing over the sun. He gives an indignant snort and sits on the edge of the bed, facing away from Trowa.

Why do you always have to be so damn difficult?

"So if you had meant to kill me, I'd have been fucking dead. What does it matter how I responded, then? I don't have the goddamn luxury of thinking things all the way through in the zero-point-two seconds I have before my head is ripped off. My brain works fast," with an edge of disappointment, focused inwardly, "Not that fast. And if you're not an enemy--" he turns and gives Trowa a harsh glare, "--Then don't fucking act so hostile."