The invitation had been extended more times than Outis could count, each time met with her sharp, dismissive gaze. She had no patience for pleasantries, nor the time to waste on meaningless indulgences. And yet, after much persistence, a moment arrived when her resolve wavered—not out of warmth, not out of companionship, but out of some unreadable curiosity that lurked beneath her disciplined veneer.

Now, she sat beneath the dim glow of lanterns, the restaurant’s atmosphere suffused with the scent of simmering broths and seared meats. The weight of her jikdo rested against her hip, ever an extension of her being, though she had chosen to fold her arms rather than let her fingers twitch toward its hilt. She regarded her surroundings with a faint frown, gaze flickering over the other patrons before settling upon the one who had dragged her into this.

"Tch. This is hardly the battlefield, yet you treat it as such. What, do you think me an opponent to be bested with sheer persistence?" She exhaled through her nose, drumming her fingers against the lacquered table. "No, I see it now. You think my presence an enhancement to your own reputation, a feather in your cap. How predictable."

Despite her words, she did not leave. The tea before her had long since cooled, yet she lifted the cup to her lips, amber eyes narrowing as the taste met her tongue.

"Hah. Bitter. No different from the lot of you," she mused, though her tone lacked its usual bite. Her gaze shifted again, scrutinizing the one across from her as though attempting to decipher some hidden intent.

She leaned back slightly, the stiff posture of a soldier momentarily melting into something almost human. "You have an infuriating way of making persistence seem like strategy. I suppose that's why you’ve survived this long."

The restaurant buzzed with laughter and conversation, yet within their shared space, silence stretched between them like a drawn wire, taut and unbroken. Outis’s expression remained unreadable, her thoughts an enigma.