-55: Planned-

Folded clothes were not a signal of spontaneity, despite just how spur of the moment last night was. If anything, I'd say the clothes indicated premeditation. Or I was overthinking this again, as usual, as ever. I couldn't help it, honestly; to pay attention in the field was to survive, to pay attention at home was to know who wouldn't hate me on sight. I wanted to trust her, hold her, have her, let her scent sink into every inch of my skin.

The idea of something like that scared me. It wasn't like trusting the teammates I trained with, worked with, fought both with and alongside. This was grabbing a stranger's hand and dangling into an abyss—the abyss—with nothing but a promise and a dream holding our hands together.

Promises were scary things; the obligation to do, and potential to mislead. Blindly believing a promise was what American ghouls had done in two world wars; fighting against humans and their own kind for a promise. Instead, the BGA had led nearly a hundred thousand ghouls to unmarked graves across three continents. All we had to show for that was a lot of smack talk from foreign dignitaries and a distinct lack of a seat on the UN security council. Mado had been right when he had said we hadn't learned much in the past sixty plus years.

But all that was off topic; Hasuko wasn't a diplomatic power. Nor was she a bomb, despite how she had once scared me like one. Kneading my forehead as much out of indecision as morning blahs, I stifled a yawn. This whole thing was going to end in tears, no matter how good or bad it went—I'd bet my quinque on it.

"I'm finished!" Hasuko emerged from around the corner where the bathroom was. "Your turn, Allen!"

She was dressed in a wholly different outfit from yesterday—little more casual, little more color—which was strange, because I didn't think she had brought anything else to wear.

"Nice outfit." I said. Once again, I couldn't really think of anything else to add. Did you go shopping before or after you moved me into the bed?

"And you made coffee too?" She had this adorable little contented look on her face. "You're perfect."

I couldn't help but smile as I pulled out the same coffee cups we had used the other night. Washed, of course—just because I didn't need to eat as often didn't mean that I was a slob. After filling the two cups, I moved to grab my clothes and take my shower. Hasuko added another step, trapping me between her and the edge of the table before using her free arm to reel me in for another kiss. Getting back to thinking straight was going to take a very cold shower.

It took that, along with a fair amount of soap and scrubbing, to get her out of my senses enough to add up all the little details. She had a different outfit because it had been in the bag in her hand when she had kissed me; the bag she had collected from under the table at the bar; the bag she had carried into the bathroom. She had planned this, possibly from the moment she had decided to go out to the bar and carried it out like a freaking tactical operation. I wasn't sure whether to be impressed, confused or terrified.

Rinsing my hair for the second time, I noted that I was almost leaning a little more towards...happy. It was nice to have certainty. Hasuko obviously liked me—perhaps that was a sizable understatement—and I never would've had the courage to tell her that I liked her back without this happening. She was still scarier than a bomb though, though now I couldn't remember why I had thought that in the first place.

It didn't really matter. I decided, pulling on my pants. I was happy, and that was enough to be a welcome distraction.

Hasuko made a little gasp when I emerged, quickly directing her gaze to the depths of her coffee cup. Whether the sound was surprise or awe was up for debate.

I sat down in the other seat, where she had placed the other steaming cup.

"It's all kind of surreal." With a finger on the handle, I slowly spun the mug in place. "If somebody had told me any one of the things that were going to happen before I stepped off the plane, I probably would've laughed it off."

"Like what?" Hasuko asked between sips of coffee.

"Kureo, Amon and their investigation, fighting a ghoul in the middle of the street, how different but similar the city is, and of course, you." She blushed, just enough that I could feel myself grin like a smitten fool. The list continued though. Witnessing an execution in the street, trying to track down the path taken by Hinami and her mother via coffee shops, killing Kureo... and waking up with you cuddled up to me most of all.

"Your arm!" Pulling my left arm out to the middle of the tiny table, she pinned my hand beneath her own and started tracing the scar on my forearm. "What happened?"

"Just an old burn." I shrugged, giving my hand a brief and fruitless wiggle to try and free myself. "It healed up quickly enough and it doesn't look too bad."

"I think it's pretty." She smiled, raising my hand so that they were palm to palm and interlaced our fingers. "It's like a little white armband that'll always tell me that it's you."

Somehow, I had the distinct impression that she had come close to ending that sentence with 'no matter how badly mangled you are'. Unbidden, that scene under the bridge came to mind, except it was Hasuko cradling my severed arm.

"Cuuuutie, are you okay? We still have to decide what to do today."

"I'm all right." I smiled, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. So long as your smile distracts me. "Let's go to that park."