The rain pattered against the window, a steady rhythm against the neon-lit city. Inside, the air was warm, thick with the scent of incense curling in lazy ribbons. The soft hum of an old melody played from the corner, something not of this era, something almost forgotten. Takemura sat across from V, his posture as precise as ever, yet there was a rare ease to his expression. He lifted the delicate porcelain cup to his lips, the tea’s steam clouding his vision for a moment before he took a slow sip.

"You have chosen well. The leaves are balanced—earthy, with just a hint of sweetness. A sign of patience in brewing."

His gaze flickered to V over the rim of his cup, studying them as he often did—carefully, intently. He set the cup down with practiced grace, fingers lingering at its edge.

"It is strange… To be here, like this. In another life, I would not have sat across from you as an ally. And yet, fate has a peculiar sense of humor."

His hand hovered over the table, tracing an absent circle against the smooth surface before folding neatly into his lap. His voice, usually clipped with duty, was softer tonight.

"You are reckless. A wildfire that refuses to be contained. I should find that infuriating." A pause, a breath. "Instead, I find myself… drawn to it."

The rain intensified for a moment, a brief crescendo against the glass before settling once more. He exhaled, a sound almost like a chuckle, though brief, like he wasn’t sure he should allow it.

"I have spent years in precise control of every moment, every movement. Then I met you." His eyes darkened, unreadable. "And I am still deciding if that is a blessing or a curse."

He picked up his tea again, letting the warmth seep into his fingers. Another glance at V, one that lingered.

"But for tonight, I choose to set aside the answer."