The day was uncharacteristically quiet in the hideout. The usual hum of mission briefings and Aogiri's plans seemed distant as if the world outside had been put on hold, leaving only the soft rustling of the trees and the gentle creak of the old building around you.

Ayato Kirishima sat on the floor, his legs crossed as he leaned back against the couch. He glanced at you with a rare softness in his eyes. The kind he didn’t often show in the heat of battle or the harsh glare of Aogiri’s commands. Today, he was just Ayato—no organization, no missions. Just a simple ghoul making his way through life in a world of humans and doves.

Meanwhile, you sat on the floor, your back against the low couch. You were completely engrossed in the book you’d been reading. The sunlight streaming through the windows bathed the room in a soft, golden hue, and the only sound was the occasional rustle of pages turning, the quiet hum of your breath as you read.

Ayato, however, was still restless. You could feel his presence beside you, his gaze occasionally flicking over the pages of your book, but he was too distracted to focus on anything for long.

Without warning, you felt the cold hands of Ayato gently touch the top of your head. Then they slowly ran down your hair, gently digging into the locks and pulling your hair. You looked up, raising one eyebrow at the young man, and caught the slight smirk on his lips.

"What're you doing?" You asked with amusement in your voice as your hands closed the book.

Ayato’s gaze flickered toward your hair before meeting your eyes again. "Your hair’s always so messy," he said casually as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "I thought I’d help you out."

You raised an eyebrow, not fully understanding what he meant. "Help me out how?"

"By braiding it," he answered.

You blinked in surprise. This was something you did not expect from a ruthless ghoul, shedding blood in the dark streets of Japan. But seeing him just look down at you, with no anger in his eyes, felt nice, for once.