Makoto first met Blake in a bookstore.

He worked there part-time. It was different from any of his previous jobs and was run by an old couple, ever so similar to a couple he had met in the long distant past. It was what initially attracted him to it. He knew that he wouldn't become rich, or famous, or any other increase of vanity. The pay was mediocre, the job was repetitive and sometimes bordered on tedious.

But it was fulfilling in a way. To help out an old couple who struggled to keep maintenance up with the store.

He never cared about being rich or famous anyways. Not one bit.

Work was a variety. Sometimes it was fast with multiple people milling about. School children wanting to read the newest adventure of whatever cool hero was being advertised. Teenagers getting their latest young adult novels. Wives getting their latest fix of raunchy novels that bordered on indecent.

That last one surprised Makoto when he initially discovered that the old bookstore even carried such a series. Much less have an entire section dedicated to it that was regularly updated with any newly published ones. He never questioned it out loud but his confusion must have shown on discovery since the old couple just laughed and said he would understand when he was older.

Makoto figured if he didn't understand now then he never would.

On other days it was slow, slow enough that he had time to make sure any returns were put back to their place, new series were updated and gave the entire store a once over in dusting. On days like those he would spend free time reading any sort of book that caught his fancy.

Much like today. He had gotten everything done early and had nothing to do, so he spent his time reading a historical fiction series. It was a genre that he had recently come to like, certainly not one he had liked in the past. But things had changed and so did he. They were appealing, taking aspects of history and putting a unique twist on them. His current choice of literature was about one of the previous monarchs secretly being a vampire slayer. Odd, but entertaining.

He had been at it for at least an hour, there had been only one customer during that time period but he had swiftly taken care of them while the elderly duo was out at lunch.

So when Makoto heard the soft jingle from the door, he stopped his reading for a moment to acknowledge the darkly dressed girl entering the shop.

Her eyes slid across the store, coming to a stop upon Makoto. He gave a small welcoming small in return. She returned the gesture with the tiniest of nods before moving on to browse through the various selections.

The pulling on a book and ruffling of the page every other minute or so was enough of a sign for Makoto to return to his book. He kept a part of his attention on the customer, listening for any footsteps or anything that indicated she needed his attention. But the rest of his attention went back to his book.

His book has gotten to approaching its climax, having reached the last quarter during his hour of free time. It wasn't so well done that it absorbed Makoto into it and refused to let his attention wane, but it was good enough that it kept him enjoying being brought on the adventure.

It was nearly ten minutes later that he heard the soft thud of a book being closed and the muted shuffling of shoes on carpet. Makoto pried his attention from his book, placing a bookmark at his current page and turned towards the approaching girl.

Monochromatic would be the word to describe her. She had a white tee that had black highlights, stylish black jeans and a pair of high heeled boots that rose above her ankles. A black bow sat atop her head to finish the look. The only part that didn't contribute to her monochrome look were her yellow eyes.

"Just these two please." She told him, placing a pair of books onto the counter.

Makoto nodded and moved to scan the two books. "Of course." He said simply.

He had moved to scan one, a romantic comedy if the cover and title was anything to go by, but was stopped when the darkly dressed girl spoke up.

"Wait."

He stopped, looking away from the books he was scanning and towards the customer.

She seemed to be looking around the shop for something, before giving up and looking at him directly. "Your bookmark… Do you sell any like it?" She asked, gesturing to the one nestled in Makoto's book.

Makoto was normally a very reserved person, but the sudden question nearly made him raise an eyebrow in surprise. Rarely, if ever did he get asked about his custom bookmarks. Never has someone asked to buy one.

The one he currently had with him was Penthesilea. It wasn't anything special, merely a rectangular piece of reinforced paper. It had a vivid red coloring with black highlights in the shape of a bow, much like the one atop of the customer's head. A rapier ran through it vertically, with the handle being at the base and the edge flowing off into brown tassels.

"It's custom-made." Makoto told her.

"Oh. That's… cool." The bow wearing girl said. He could tell she was both disappointed and impressed.

"Thank you."

It was an odd feeling, having such a small hobby like creating bookmarks be recognized, but it felt nice. Filling.

Was this how artists felt?

"Do you want one?" He offered.

Makoto had others he created. He could always recreate Penthesilea if he wanted anyways. He had learned a long time ago that sometimes the smallest gestures meant a lot. His friends taught him that. It had taken him an entire school year to understand it.

The black-haired girl blinked, surprise coloring her features. "What? Oh, I-I can't. If you made them then-"

"I can make more."

"I… if you're sure…" She still sounded hesitant.

"I am."

There was a small bout of silence before she nodded. Makoto returned it and opened his book, noting the page number before he removed the bookmark and placed it into one of the books she was purchasing.

He quickly tallied up the two novels, one a romcom and another was a history book regarding faunus. Money was exchanged for books. A quick and simple transaction. Nothing else was needed to fill the silence.

"Thank you." The still unnamed girl told him.

"You're welcome." He returned with a smile.

Moments later the bell to the door rang and Makoto was once again the only person in the bookstore. The smile on his face felt a little more natural than the one earlier.

Blake first ran into Makoto a few hours later. Literally.

It was right after a White Fang rally went wrong. It was supposed to be peaceful and to send a message. But someone threw the first punch and it all devolved into pandemonium.

Was it the Fang? Was it the police? Did it even matter who threw the first punch? Probably not, Blake figured.

She wasn't blind. She could tell how the tension spiked as soon as the police arrived. How it culminated and grew as the rally continued. How minutes before it turned to chaos there was a thick feeling of suspense and anticipation.

As if her fellow members of the fang wanted to fight. Wanted to have a reason to lash out and unleash their unbridled anger and rage against authority. As if the members of the police force were waiting for any tiny slip-up from anyone to try to force them back into place. One small step to have an excuse to beat the faunus back into their place.

She felt sick. Stuck between two forces without any real escape.

On one hand the fang was not what it once was. Under the new leadership of Adam who poisoned the movement with his deep hatred and prejudice. Peaceful protests turned into riots and 'sending a message' started to border on terrorism.

On the other hand, she felt that she had to do something against the inequality and horrible conditions faunus like her faced. But this wasn't the way. Not how she wanted to. Not the organization she was raised into.

She had to leave. Away from the fighting and everything else. She didn't even have a location in mind. She just ran.

Headfirst into a civilian.

"Oof." Someone said.

The sudden impact nearly knocked the wind out of Blake and pushed all previous thoughts out of mind. She felt briefly weightless and wondered just who talked just now.

She quickly realized it was her when she felt the impact of the hard concrete. Her Aura flickered and mitigated most of it but it was still uncomfortable. Nobody liked eating dirt, especially not her.

Blake blinked at the suddenness of everything before she quickly regained her bearings. She pushed herself off the ground at the same time as the person she ran into. For the first time during the brief encounter, Blake actually focused on the person she collided with.

"Are you-" Blake stopped before she finished her sentence, her words catching in her throat as she realized just who it was she ran into.

It was the nice boy from the bookstore. The one who gave her the custom bookmark.

The White Fang mask felt heavy on her face. Why was she still wearing it? Sometimes it felt more like a brand than a symbol. Did he know about what happened with the rally just a few blocks away? Did he hate people like her? Did he realize who she was?

Questions, she always had so many questions. Questions that she never even wanted answers to, too afraid to know the truth. Too afraid of what others would think.

"Are you okay?" Said the boy with a soft voice. Stealing the sentence that she had failed to finish.

For a second she felt like she was back in the bookstore. Happy to pick up two new books to read in her spare time. It was only a passing thought on getting a new bookmark. It certainly wasn't her intention.

It was just a nice gesture from a stranger to give her a nice looking bookmark. She was honestly more happy about the random act of kindness than the bookmark itself.

"Yeah…" She nodded, composing herself. "I am."

She wasn't, but her mess of emotions was her own problem.

"No you're not." The blue-haired stranger denied.

Blake almost choked in surprise. Was he a mind reader? How could he see that she was a whirlwind of emotions more unstable than platonic friendships between men and women? Could he hear her thoughts right now?

"You're bleeding."

Oh.

She was?

Blake looked down at where he was pointing, noticing for the first time that there was a short, but relatively deep cut on her forearm. It wasn't anywhere dangerous but the newfound awareness of the injury brought a stab of pain from the area.

"I didn't even notice." She muttered.

She wondered exactly when she got such a wound, it had to have been during the rally-turned riot because there was no other place for it to happen and still be so fresh. How had it even gotten past her aura?

"I can help". The bookstore boy told her.

She blinked at the proclamation. Did he have some healing semblance or something? She assumed he was just an auraless civilian but perhaps…?

The blue haired boy took out a small personal first aid kit from his belongings.

Blake could almost feel herself deflate from her oddly overestimated expectations. Her imagination had been overactive the past few minutes. It wasn't exactly unusual but she usually kept it focused on whatever book she was reading, not about a stranger she didn't even know the name of.

Blake inhaled quietly at the sudden sting of alcohol on her cut. It was just a few dabs to clean off the wound, followed by a tight wrapping of gauze, but it was done so neatly that she couldn't help but wonder where he picked up the experience to do so.

When everything was wrapped up, Blake watched as the boy muttered something so softly under his skin. Something about a Dia…mond? She was sure that she heard the first part correct, courtesy of her more acute hearing via faunus parts, but the second half she could easily be wrong.

She did suddenly feel a lot better though. So that was something.

"It should be better in twenty-four hours. Unwrap it then and make sure everything seems alright."

Blake was rather surprised at the statement. Only a day for a cut like that? Sure she didn't notice it until it was actually brought to her attention but she felt like it should be at least another day even with aura accelerating her healing. But she wasn't a doctor and the person in front of her clearly had some sort of medical experience. She would just take his word for it.

"Thank you." She told him sincerely.

The blue-haired stranger just gave her a small smile. It only took a few moments for him to pack things up and be on his way. Not even looking back.

If there wasn't hard evidence in her now bandaged arm, Blake would have believed the entire thing to be a fever dream caused by a severe anxiety attack following the rally. It just felt so… surreal.

Such a short meeting, it couldn't have been more than a quarter of an hour at most, yet it left such a distinct impression on her. A stranger helped her for seemingly no reason, twice.

Huh. It almost took her mind off the riot.

Once is an accident. Twice is coincidence. Three times is a pattern.

Blake began to wonder if the entire day was just a fever dream created by her delirious and concussed mind. A mind that is currently not concussed but would theoretically be concussed from the riot or something because she honestly had trouble believing what she was seeing. It would therefore have to be a fever dream.

Actually…

What the hell was she saying? That hardly made sense even for her.

Perhaps it was just like that one movie. The Matrix. Her entire life was just a simulation and she only just started to notice repetitive simulations of people.

Oh no. That actually made too much sense. It explained the shadow people. That was also the reason why she didn't notice she got that cut from earlier. Because it was fake and therefore wouldn't actually hurt! It all was starting to line up.

But she had to make sure.

So Blake slapped herself in the face.

It hurt.

Damn.

"Are you… okay?"

No. She was an idiot. Probably looked like one too.

"Yes. It's just been a long day." She told the blue haired boy who sat across from her. Blake was doing everything in her power to not look him in the eyes.

"I… can tell." He said hesitantly.

The sigh that rose up escaped her naturally. While she didn't particularly care much about what strangers thought of her. She didn't particularly like giving off bad impressions to people who were nice to her either.

Or weird impressions. She wasn't sure which one was worse.

"Yeah I… ah…" Blake racked her brains in an attempt to do something that would divert attention from the fact that she slapped herself infront of someone. "N-Not everyday do you meet someone three times in a row?" She fumbled, ending her statement in more of a question than anything.

"Three times?" He asked, confusion apparent on his features.

Oh crap. "Two times! Two times, sorry. Got mixed up…"

Perhaps she really did have a concussion. She would never call herself a conversation expert but she knew she was better than this. Had she been in his shoes she probably would have just stopped talking to her. Sitting across from each other be damned.

"Not everyday." He nodded, agreeing with her previous words.

Blake was saved from responding when the server returned with her meal. It wasn't anything fancy, as she was only in a relatively small cafe, but the quality was undeniable. It was one of her guilty pleasures, having visited it enough times that some of the staff knew her by sight.

The café usually wasn't so full that she had to share a table with someone however. Or in this case, someone sharing a table with her. The distinction mattered after all. He was there before her. When the server asked if she didn't mind sharing a table with someone, she certainly didn't expect it to be with someone she knew.

Blake took her time to eat her meal, enjoying it and savoring the flavors. Taking sips of her absolutely divine but caffeinated tea. It was refreshing in such a way that rejuvenated the senses and eased any aches or pains away despite it being caffeinated. Done so in a way that no other tea had done before, making it the perfect drink to read a book to.

The only flaw was that it was caffeinated. So she would be cursed to suffer from a long sleepless night. But it was a tradeoff she was willing to pay every now and then. All for a nice reading environment. Blake fished out her book she bought earlier and began to read.

Or at least she tried to, if it wasn't crowded to all hell.

Her tablemate, for lack of a better word, was apparently having none of the problems she was having. He had a book in his hands with an expression that clearly showed he had not a care in the world. The cover was familiar and she was pretty sure it was the book she had seen him reading back at the bookstore. It seemed as if he was in his own little world, completely unaware of the chattering and white noise that barraged the walls of the café. The same noise that prevented her from being able to truly concentrate on the words in front of her.

Sentences blurred together and comprehension washed off her like oil against water. It took her three rereads for a single sentence to stick, the mental images of the scenes from the book were muddy and dull. Like someone spilled water on a painting.

Another sigh escaped her. It seemed to just not be her day. She placed a bookmark, the same one she was gifted earlier, into the crease of the book and placed it cover down onto the table.

"Having trouble?" A voice called out.

It took Blake a second to process that it was directed towards her. She looked at the boy sitting across from her and nodded. "It's usually not so crowded here. It's… distracting." She answered.

He took a sip of his drink before he responded. "It's not easy to drown out all the noise."

"You seem to be doing okay with it though." Blake pointed out.

"Years of practice."

The conversation died as quickly as it started, but the silence that dawned upon them wasn't awkward in any way. It was content, mutual. The topic had finished and fulfilled it's purpose. Blake was socially aware enough to realize that.

But the place wasn't getting any less crowded, so perhaps it didn't have to end just there.

"How's your book?" She asked him.

Blake would freely admit that she never liked when people would interrupt her reading. Why make small talk with someone she hardly knew (or hardly wanted to know) when she could be losing herself in an immersive and wonderful book? Usually she would just have to ignore them until they went away, if that failed then usually a good death glare would make the message more obvious.

So perhaps she was being hypocritical, but remnant be damned she was not going to sit at her favorite cafe and do nothing.

"It's interesting." He said simply.

Blake raised an eyebrow. The quiet boy caught it and continued.

"I would hesitate to call it good. But it's not bad either. It keeps my interest."

"Really? What's it about?"

"A former king's life before he became king. It… regales the story of him being a vampire hunter." He explained.

Blake couldn't deny that premise was interesting, even if a little odd. "Historical fiction?"

He nodded.

"Sounds… interesting." She agreed with his previous word choice. "I don't read much of that genre to be honest."

"It's a genre I've only recently gotten into, I prefer the historical aspects to it." He turned a page. "You prefer romance books?" He questioned.

Blake was surprised at the accurate assumption. How did… Ah. The bookstore. "You remembered?"

"I have a good memory."

"Mm. Yeah I like them. They're nice. Things almost always… work out. The guy and the girl get together, people end up happy. It's just nice to get away from real life a bit." Blake said, explaining her preferences.

The blue haired boy didn't respond immediately, instead opting to look up from his book after her explanation.

The sudden eye contact made Blake feel self conscious about her explanation. Perhaps she was too old to be having those kinds of sentiments. Was that what he was thinking? People in the Fang always said similar things, how she needed to face reality. How she needed to stop hiding behind books.

Blake had turned sixteen this year. She was probably getting too old to get lost in her silly romance books.

"Sorry." She apologized. "I'm too old to be thinking like that. People tell me that all the time-"

"No." He interrupted her

She felt ears twitch, hidden by her bow, at the sudden interruption.

"There's no such thing as being too old to enjoy getting lost in a book. Life is difficult, so taking a break from it every once and a while is essential. Everyone does that in their own way. Yours is books." He explained.

To Blake, hearing such a sentiment from another person, someone who looked to be near her own age, felt… liberating. He was someone who understood, at least to some degree, how suffocating life could be and how sometimes you just needed to escape. All of it from a stranger she didn't even know the name of. From a person who seemed to be just as quiet as she was.

Perhaps, she had found a kindred soul.

She opened her mouth to respond, in some attempt to convey the feelings of gratitude and relief she felt in knowing that it was okay to need a break from the harsh realities of life every once and a while, but no combination of words felt right.

So she didn't tell him about that. That would be something she kept with her. What she did say however, was her name.

"I'm Blake." She introduced herself.

He was silent for a beat before he responded. "I'm Makoto."

"It's nice to meet you."

She couldn't help the tiny smile from forming on her face.

"Likewise."

But when she saw it mirrored on his face, a smile even smaller than her own, she wouldn't have it any other way.

Start: Aug 9th. 2022.

End: Aug 27th. 2022.

Words: 3908

Lol where did this come from haha idk have fun next update will be sometime in the next century.