It wasn't often he felt the chill. His charge had been dosing soundly for a while, her body curled in to itself on the dirty mattress of an 11th ward safe house. She was completely indifferent to the draught, but his skin was peppered with goose pimples. His teeth were chattering no matter how he tensed his jaw.

In her sleep, Hinami sighed in to the rough baby blue blanket he had dug out of the cupboard before arranging any others in a pile on the floor for himself. She'd been too tired to even fein protest as he had nodded to the bed and taken his place for the night.

One of those bastards had ripped out an earring. The lobe had stitched itself back together and left nothing compared to his other reminders of the evening's encounter with the doves, but the simple act had shaken him. The man's wallet had fallen from the sliced pocket of his jacket, and pictures of children and a wife with a smile like starlight had spilled forth. Ayato had paused, met the dying man's gaze as he made one last desperate grasp at life and yanked the cold metal through his skin. If he had only...

At his own trail of thought he rolled on to his side, facing shadows that the orange hue of the city night couldn't chase away. A shiver ran down his spine as his whole body trembled.

'I can hear you, you know.'

Her voice was clear, soft but crisp over the sound of his rasping breaths.

'Get some sleep, Hinami.' He grunted, scrunching his eyes shut.

The springs beneath her popped and sprung as she shifted, sitting up against the window, a silhouette of bed hair and curves He imagined.

She stood, feet gingerly meeting the cold wood floor. 'All I can hear is you, shivering!' She put her hands to her hips, leaning over him until he yielded and fell on to his back. 'You're no good to me dead, Ayato.'

'I'm no good to you...' He frowned at her outline, her face somehow severe in the dark. 'At all.'

She stiffened, straightening her spine and turning towards the window. The light caught her honey coloured eyes, still far away with sleep. 'I'd rather you were here than not.' She smiled sadly. 'No matter how much you want me to hate you...'

He laughed, sitting up with a grimace. 'Why would I want you to hate me?'

She shrugged, turning away and padding back to the bed.

He could almost feel the warmth already, as he fought shakily to his feet and followed with uncharacteristically clumsy steps. She had thrown back the blanket and pushed herself against the wall, facing it. With what little grace he could muster he dropped the blanket he had been sleeping on over hers, then sank down beside her, lying on his back And pulling both sheets up to his neck. They were careful not to touch.

Hadn't he been colder once? Stuck under cardboard and newspaper constructions in alleyways while his stupid aneki shivered in her skin and torn jacket. He should have held it together and stayed on the floor. Who cared if she hated him?

The biting cold began to fade, though he could still feel it in his feet and at the base of his neck. Relaxing in to the bed, his mind began to wander.

Hinami had spoken about her Touka, but she had never tried to share his. She made coffee and swept hair behind her ears, but she didn't fight tooth and nail, or make self righteous demands. Similarly, the eyepatched half breed who had broken half of his bones only ever made an appearance in her stories as a wide eyed teacher, a sweet counterbalance to Touka's cool and slightly distant style of caring.

He might have made her that way, pulling so hard against his father's influence. No, humans were to blame. Humans and Arata's poor judgement. Did he think they'd have pity on them for being children? Did he believe as the final blow came rushing down that blending in was the right choice? Had Hinami's mother had similar faith, a woman no more violent than his father had been. Was there a single ghoul out there who had managed to hide like that and live?

'When did you last eat?' She murmured, her back pressing cautiously against his arm.

He turned his head to look at the back of hers. The light from the curtainless window made her bare shoulder glow, but the dark blue night shirt kept the rest of her hidden as she tried to pull the blankets around her front.

'It doesn't concern you.'

She chuckled softly, turning to face him with a devious smile on her soft features. 'Tch. Watching your weight?'

'Mind your own business.' His voice was low, threatening. 'This isn't some happy family. We don't all share our feelings. I don't have to care for you.'

She sighed, looking down at her exposed right leg, wiggling her toes in the murky darkness. 'But this felt so much like a family didn't it? With all the danger and the hiding... It's just how I remember it.'

The lightness in her voice catches him off guard. He sighs in agreement and stretches, his fingertips grazing the back go her shirt. He frowns at his own hand, and doesn't miss the way she looks over her shoulder at him with pity, or something like it. The silence settles like dust.

'You saved my life today.' It's barely a whisper as she scratches her fingers along the mattress, looking down at her hand as it narrowly avoids his own. 'But am I awful for wishing that man dead?'

Ayato's heart clenched. If he, with his self forged heart of cold steel had felt regret as the wallet, the pictures and then the father had fallen, what had she felt? She who had lost her parents only to be cushioned by the soft coffee shop, the devotion of the staff and his sister. Kaneki's death has pushed over the edge, sent her crying to Eto because leaving was easier than losing but still she retained that undeniable softness, a waver in her voice when she spoke to him after a kill, or the glimmer in her eyes when she spoke of her time with Kirishima Touka and Keneki Ken, a short lived and dysfunctional family that had no idea what it was.

'I left her so it wouldn't happen to me.' He swallowed, hand hovering over hers as he considered... Only for a moment. 'Family connections, love. It hurts people because it can't last. So wish him dead or don't, doesn't matter.' His hand fell back down beside hers. 'That family's loss is no greater than any others.' Ours, he wants to say.

She sunk back down to lie, facing the ceiling, her hands folded in her chest. 'He was fighting for something. What are we fighting for?'

'Survival.' He scoffed, eyeing her profile without turning his head. 'if we stop fighting we're dead.'

She closed her eyes, 'If it's all we do we might as well be.' The boldness didn't suit her, or maybe it did. He couldn't decide. The way she looked at him then though, with her eyes fierce in the dim light of the street and her lips drawn in to a pert straight line was definitely bold, perhaps not unwelcome.

He wanted to kiss her sometimes.

'Can...' She hesitated, lips shaking. 'I fight for... Something...'

He turned completely to face her, letting the blanket slide down over his now heated shoulders. 'It can't last.' He croaked as her fingers, small and shaking, ghosted over his own.

The cold air taunted him, a reminder that she was scorching, that the warmth of her skin was right there for him if he would just reach out.

'Why me?'

'Does it matter?' She echoed.

He felt her feet against his and sighed. There was so much comfort in the small touch... he wanted to throw her across the room.

'It does if you're asking me to lose somebody again, Hinami.' His voice was bitter, but all the same he grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her closer and leaning in. 'I won't be a romantic...'

She nodded. 'I won't hold my breath, but the next time we're alone together... If we are, you won't sleep on the floor, alright?' Her voice had wavered at the last word. 'We should at least have something...'

Ayato almost whined as she turned, breaking all contact and facing away. As much as his mind had been in turmoil, his body had enjoyed her presence. He lay there, his own breathing loud in his ears, until the female ghoul had raised her head to look over her shoulder, eyes catching the light again.

He pulled her roughly by the hip until she settled against him, her shirt clad back pressed against his bare stomach and chest. His hand skimmed the bare skin of her stomach, curling around her in a vice.

He fell asleep not long after her, and even if their arrangement was foolish, he drifted off feeling warm and safe... hopeful for the first time in years.