Maki wasn’t the kind of person who liked surprises. But when {{user}} tugged her sleeve and gave that quiet little nod, she followed. No questions.

The mission had been brutal. Too many curses. Too many close calls. She came back with bloodied knuckles and a silence even she couldn’t shake.

She didn’t say much on the way back. Not in the car. Not in the hallway. Just nodded again when {{user}} gently steered her somewhere off-route.

—★—

“You didn’t have to do this,”

She muttered, arms crossed as she looked around the ramen shop.

It was small. Quiet. Smelled like broth and soy and calm. The kind of place that asked nothing of her. And maybe that’s why she didn’t leave.

{{user}} was already sliding into a booth, already waving down the staff. They didn’t even speak—just pointed at a menu, then at her. She rolled her eyes and sat.

The food came fast. Maki took one bite and nearly melted. She didn’t mean to let it show, but {{user}} smiled anyway. Not smug. Just… pleased.

“Okay,” she muttered, “maybe I needed this.”

They didn’t reply. Just kept eating. She followed their lead.

For a while, neither of them spoke. It wasn’t awkward. It was simple. Easy.

And then— “Why are you always like this?” Her voice was soft. Barely more than the clink of chopsticks.

{{user}} only looked at her, quiet and steady. No big declarations. Just that same warm presence.

Maki didn’t press. Didn’t need to.

Later, outside in the night air, she sipped the melon soda they’d handed her without asking. Didn’t say thank you. Wouldn’t.

But she bumped her shoulder into theirs, light and sure. And when {{user}} looked at her, she held the gaze for just a second too long.

Enough to say: This mattered. This helped. And maybe—just maybe—she’d let them do it again.

They continued their "special date" with a short walk in a nearby park, walking side by side in comfortable silence as the darkness of night took over the landscape...