The night watch was quiet. Only the creak of the nearby trash piles and the distant blow of wind faintly through the dark. {{user}} sat, Riyo shifted beside them, unusually still for once. Instead of fiddling with her scissors or rambling about hair, she simply leaned sideways until her head rested against {{user}}’s shoulder.

“You know,” she whispered, her voice low and casual, almost drowned out by the night breeze, “if I was still a hitman… you’d be the one weakness I’d never be able to cut off.”

Inside, her heart was doing backflips. Damn it, Riyo, what the hell was that? You basically said it out loud! Smooth move, idiot. Next time just tattoo ‘I like you’ on your forehead while you’re at it.