Hazō snapped into his polite rejection stance so hard it hurt. He poured every scrap of lucidity into staying there.
Gradually, familiar Hazōness returned. Matter over mind. He was Gōketsu fu—He was Gōketsu Hazō, and not even a jōnin got to mess with his feelings. Ignoring Ami, because right now it was both necessary and deserved, he took the time to breathe and recover his composure.
Meanwhile, she had pulled back, and was watching him with dispassionate curiosity, like Keiko watching Kagome-sensei cook when she was bored.
"Pupil dilation two millimetres above projected. Breathing rate thirty-seven breaths per minute, estimated. Muscle tension readings suspended due to risk of Iron Nerve contamination. Response patterns match… hm. Conditioned resistance. Noted for investigation."
"That was out of line, Mori," Hazō said as calmly as he could manage. He'd decided at the outset that he was going maintain mental balance come hell or high water, above all other priorities and concerns, and even if Ami was going to bat him around like a damned cat playing with a mouse, he could at least recover with grace.
"What you did," he said, "was like using genjutsu without permission. It's not something you do to an ally."
"Apologies," Ami said neutrally. "Experiments designed with the aid of the Frozen Skein do not always properly account for the sensitivity of internal experiences. Though technically, the level of stimulus was quite low compared to focused seduction. Nothing more than a few basic body language techniques. Most of the work was done on the subject side, with myself in a passive role as a facilitator. I appreciate, however, that subjectively it may feel invasive."