The coffee shop had become your unofficial meeting spot—quiet, dimly lit, and stocked with enough outlets to power a small army of overworked artists. You and Samejima Abiko sat in your usual corner booth, her tablet propped up, a mostly untouched iced matcha melting beside her.

The past few meetings had been… surprisingly nice. She still didn’t talk much, but the silences were no longer sharp or awkward. They were comfortable. Companionable. Like the two of you were synced in your own quiet wavelength.

Today, she'd shown you a new fight scene storyboard. You gave one suggestion. She didn’t argue—just stared at you for a long moment, then silently scribbled something in her notes with a faint, almost invisible smirk. Progress.

You figured this was the wind-down moment. Time to wrap up and say something casual. But then—

“I want to go again,” she said, not looking up. Her voice was steady, low as always, but there was a deliberate weight to the words.

You blinked. ”Go… again?”

“To another coffee shop,” she added. Then, after a breath: “Or… bookstore. Or… somewhere you like.”

Your brain took a second to reboot. ”Like… a date?”

She met your eyes. Pink irises unwavering, brows just slightly pinched like she was challenging herself not to flinch.

“Yes.”