"I hope this doesn't make me a terrible friend," Kanami said, "but Misaki getting strep throat was the best thing to happen to our team."

Hei snorted, idly glancing at the storefronts as they walked down the mall's main corridor. "I'm pretty sure that does make you a terrible friend."

Kanami elbowed him in the ribs. "Is it so awful to want to win a game or two for once?"

"Misaki's not that bad."

"Your defense of your girlfriend is sweet, but either you're lying to my face or you're outright delusional."

Hei smiled. "I'm sure she'd be better if she had more time to practice."

"Uh huh. Says the guy who'd never played table tennis in his life and picked it up after just one hour, whereas Misaki has been playing since junior high. I'm so glad I thought of you as a ringer - we might actually have a chance at the championship!" She threw an arm around his shoulder. "You are an assassin of many talents, my friend."

"Good hand-eye coordination has a lot of applications, I guess," Hei said mildly. He still found it strange to be able to talk openly about such things with other people without them cringing away in horror. "But I think Misaki is relieved too; she hates losing, and she didn't like that she was dragging you down." That was an understatement; the pure joy on Misaki's face when he'd told her that they'd won the game she'd missed due to being in bed on a steady diet of soup and antibiotics was an expression he hadn't seen from her very often. She'd been the one to suggest that he take her place permanently, especially after he'd mentioned that he'd actually enjoyed playing.

"Really? I thought she just didn't like my t-shirt design idea."

"Well, that too," Hei said, suppressing a grimace and turning his gaze toward a window display that had caught his eye. He was glad that Kanami had given up on her We've got balls slogan once he'd officially joined as her partner ("You're a dude, it's not funny when you obviously have balls," she'd decided); but her second choice hadn't been much better. They were wearing the matching shirts now, on their way to the parking garage after the game. Hei wasn't thrilled to have his chest proclaiming I'm a player to the world - they were getting no end of strange looks from the other shoppers - but Misaki and Kanami both found it amusing; so he wore the shirt without complaint.

"Uh oh," Kanami said abruptly.

"What?" Hei tensed and scanned the vicinity for signs of threats; but the crowded mall seemed to be perfectly safe. He turned to Kanami to find her gazing at him with one eyebrow raised.

"I saw that look," she said, folding her arms.

Hei blinked. "What look?"

Kanami angled her chin toward the window he'd been glancing towards. It was a jewelery store; a large poster featuring the silhouettes of a presumably happy couple announced a special on engagement rings.

"Um," Hei said, feeling a blush rise in his cheeks and able to do nothing to stop it. "I wasn't looking. The display just caught my eye, that's all. It's, uh, sparkly."

He tried to pick up the pace, but Kanami had stopped walking altogether, and he was forced to pause and wait.

"That's not what your face said," Kanami pointed out. "You and Misaki have been going out for a year now, right? Have you talked about anything long term yet?"

"Eight months," Hei corrected distractedly. "No, we haven't. It's…I don't know. Is eight months a long time?" He had no frame of reference for how a normal relationship was supposed to progress. All he knew was that he couldn't imagine spending a single day without Misaki by his side.

Kanami shrugged. "It's not a short time. Definitely longer than any of Misaki's other boyfriends have lasted. And she's completely hooked on you."

"She told you that?"

"Not in so many words. But I can tell." She fixed him with a penetrating gaze. "So you're saying that you haven't thought about it at all?"

"Well…" If he was being honest with himself - something that he'd been working hard on the past few months - he had been thinking about it. Every time he saw an older couple walking down the street holding hands, he pictured himself with Misaki, old and gray and still in love. He thought about all the places he wanted to take her, the future he wanted to build together with her.

He thought about how much his mother would have loved meeting her.

"I guess I have," he admitted. "A lot, actually. I just don't know if it's something that Misaki wants."

Misaki was the sort of person who favored practicality over tradition or romance. He'd quickly learned that she preferred a nice dinner over flowers (even if she appreciated the gesture), and her rant against the concept of 'date night' had lasted nearly an hour ("Why can't I just spend time with someone I love without making it an event?" had been her concluding - and recurring - argument). He dreaded putting her into a position where she would either say no and feel guilty for disappointing him, or say yes when it wasn't something she particularly wanted, just to make him happy.

"Hm," Kanami said, "I guess you won't know until you talk about it with her."

"I'm not sure how to bring it up...has she said anything to you?"

Kanami snorted. "Getting Misaki to talk about anything even slightly romantic in nature is like pulling teeth."

That answered that question. Hei sighed.

"But I'm sure she'll talk to you about it - all you have to do is ask. What's the worst that can happen?"

"She says no."

"Is that a deal-breaker for you?"

Hei frowned. "Of course not. If she's willing to stay with me whether we're married or not, that's all I care about. Anyway, it wouldn't technically be legal," he added. "Since I'm officially dead and this is a fake identity."

"Contractor problems," Kanami nodded sagely. "So why do you want to propose?"

"I guess…" he stuffed his hands in his pockets and thought. "I want her to know that I'm committed to her. I want the whole world to know. It's - it's normal, isn't it?"

"Sure. Like I said, you'll never know how she feels unless you ask. It's not like it's a life or death situation; I say go for it."

"Yeah," Hei said as they resumed their walk to the garage, feeling as if he'd rather be facing down the world's deadliest contractor than broach such a conversation with his girlfriend. "I guess."