I divided this chapter into two separate parts to indicate a change in point of view. A switch in perspective is always so difficult to accomplish smoothly without creating confusion. Thank you for reading, and I appreciate the reviews. I hope you enjoy the new chapter.

Miyu sat the clean cup and saucer in the cabinet with the rest. The last customer of the night had been served and all of the dishes were clean. Time to lock up.

She took off her apron, folding it, and laying it on the shelf under the counter. Grabbing her purse, she fished around inside the brown leather bag to find her keys. Another 'day's' work done. She felt satisfied and happy as she stepped outside to greet the morning sun.

"Good morning," Kuki Urie greeted her in his typical monotone. He stood stiff and straight as the lamp post beside him like a soldier at attention.

Did this man ever just relax?, she wondered, inserting her key into the deadbolt lock to engage it.

"Morning," she replied, turning to face him.

"Shall we?" He flourished an arm toward the end of the block where the green and white awning of the restaurant flapped in the humid breeze.

Summer. Miyu did not like summer. She hated being able to feel the air around her. Sometimes it felt like the air dense with water vapor was covering her like a blanket and suffocating her.

Walking beside him, she felt like she was being escorted to a formal event - or under police protection from something. Rigid posture, his eyes focused ahead, and observing everything around him as if he expected an unknown evil to accost them at any second.

Well, he was a Dove so he was accustomed to dealing with the terrifying things that go bump in the night. He chased the things that most people only encountered in their worst nightmares. And sometimes those things chased him. Of course he could not shut that wary, protective instinct off at will.

"Welcome," the young woman with long brown hair in two pigtails greeted them.

"Good morning, Sayuri," Miyu greeted the employee by name making a smile as warm as the sunshine break out across the girl's face.

"Oh, good morning to you, Miss Miyu!" Sayuri returned happily, leading them to a table. "Do you want your usual?"

"Yes, please. And my - " She paused unsure how to refer to Urie. Friend? No, not really. Not yet. Customer? Hell, no. That made him, and her, sound like something different entirely.

"I'll have the traditional Japanese breakfast with salmon and a cup of coffee, please," he requested to end the uncomfortable silence for them all.

His facial features were tight making him appear strained in his attempt to hide his irritation. What could he be aggravated about?

To the untrained eye he appeared to be an conceited, elitist; a narcissist at best. Purposely detaching himself from others, he built an almost palpable wall keeping others at bay with his stern expression. Others probably found his quietude, his lack of vocality, disturbing and off-putting. However, she knew there was so much more to him. The secrets he must be hiding under that calm, unfeeling exterior aroused her boundless inquisitive nature.

Miyu noticed he was staring at her, observing her as openly and closely as she had been examining him. His gaze was analytical, questioning; the studious eye of an investigator searching for clues and attempting to draw a conclusion about the subject of his interest.

What kind of interest did he have in her? Her entire body heated at the thought. Her eyes moved away from him, darting around the restaurant but not really seeing anything.

She had been shocked when the reserved man had asked her to breakfast. Over the last several hours she had reminded herself this was not a date. He only wanted to express his gratitude for her thoughtfulness. He had made his intentions clear: one thank you breakfast, nothing more.

What man takes a lady he's interested in romantically to breakfast?, she asked herself to squash the silly romantic notions that tried to raise their heads.

For some, love is not meant to be by no fault of their own. Love does not allude them by virtue of who they are but what they are.

Goosebumps rose over the surface of her arms. A chill followed by a wave of warmth rolled over her back raising more goosebumps and the hairs on the back of her neck. The definitive sensation of being watched seized her. Her eyes were drawn back to his piercing black orbs that were still attached to her face.

Urie had not meant to stare so long. He had gone past the point of polite long ago venturing into downright creepy. However, he could not stop himself. There was something about her he found familiar but could not quite grasp what that elusive element could be. He also could not determine if this odd familiarity was positive or negative.

"What?" Miyu inquired self-consciously, lifting her water glass to her mouth to wet her dry lips.

"I've been coming here three times a week for two years yet they can't remember my order. How did you do that?" he asked with genuine curiosity.

"I've learned if you take care of people, they will take care of you. If you remember them, they will remember you. Everyone wants to be acknowledged by someone," she stated, giving him a smile.

He knew the more he allowed someone to talk, the more they would inadvertently reveal about themselves and their true intentions. When he did not say anything, she continued speaking in her usual deliberate, measured way. Apparently, she also knew to be careful with what and how much she said.

"It's important to build relationships. There's all kinds of relationships and connections to make. Each one is unique and vital to not only our existence but the other person's life. I like getting to know people and everything about them," she explained, smiling at the server name Sayuri when she set the mimosa on the table. "Every time I come here, I try to get the same server. I like making these small but influential connections with people."

"I've never really cared much for people," Urie admitted in a low voice, sipping his coffee. He grimaced.

"Is it bad? I can ask for another one," she offered.

"It's not as good as yours, but it will do."

Miyu blushed lightly.

"So have you always made it a point to avoid making connections with people?" she questioned him, her eyes briefly contacting his before glancing away toward the window.

His eyes were cold but not empty. He appeared angry, possibly insulted by her assumption.

"I didn't mean - "

"You're right," he interrupted. "I've never liked getting involved with people on an emotional level."

"Do you avoid all physical contact as well? Forgoing simple interactions like conversation as much as possible?" she pressed, picking up the flute of orange juice and champagne by the stem.

Urie glared at her. "Are you a professional psychologist or just chronically nosy?"

"I apologize," she said, her blush deepening to a dark shade of red matching the ruffled red carnation in the tiny vase on the table. "Old habits. I was a psychologist."

"Was?" he repeated due to her emphasis on the past tense.

Miyu sighed, an extreme sadness filling her eyes causing them to gloss over with a fine sheen of tears. For several seconds that felt like minutes, she simply twirled her champagne flute, swirling the bubbly orange liquid, almost but not spilling the contents. Slowly her eyes raised from staring at the fizzy beverage to meet his eyes. She looked so weary in addition to the evident sorrow lurking in her eyes. A haunted woman.

Urie was captivated, wanting to know more. However, unlike her he did not push with offensively prying questions. But it had been her job to ask those kind of questions. Force of habit. His tight shoulders loosened the slightest bit.

"I decided being a therapist was not the career for me. So I opened up the coffee shop where I believed I could still nurture the soul and mind," she explained.

Urie watched her in silence as she drained the glass of its alcoholic contents. He stayed quiet as she raised her the glass in a wordless request for another.

"So why didn't you choose to open a bar? Bartenders are known to offer a sort of therapy to their customers. A kind of armchair psychology so to speak, but you could have done so much more as a professional," he said, finishing off the mediocre swill in his cup.

"Because I didn't want to feed another bad habit. Alcoholism, you know. Coffee does have health benefits. And to some..." Her words trailed off.

She waited for the server to place her second drink and her plate of food in front of her. Offering the young woman a smile, she continued to wait for her to give Urie his food and to walk away before speaking again.

For a moment, Urie found himself unable to breathe when she gazed directly into his eyes. Her eyes seemed to be cutting straight through him, slicing through bone and sinew to reach his very soul.

"To some, it's food. A pale substitute for what they really need but a means to survive nonetheless," she said, her voice low as if sharing a deep, dark secret.

"Who are you?" Urie asked, his eyes narrowing as he studied her intently. She had fully captured his imagination, drawing him in, awakening his curiosity in a way that the desire to know more about her overtook him like it had when he asked her out. "What are you?"

"Hmph," she scoffed lightly, her lips turning upward into a smile. The dark shadows in her eyes fled, giving way to the warmth and sunshine of her usual kindness. "I guess you'll just have to find out the hard way."

"Hard way? What do you mean?" Apprehension from her cryptic statement made a frigid shiver rush down his spine like an icy trickle of water.

"You'll have to get to know me. You'll have to make a connection, possibly an emotional connection. Are you willing to allow yourself to do that?" She held his eyes evenly, issuing a silent challenge.

"I-I don't kn-know," he stammered, becoming more unsure of what he might have gotten himself into.

"It's okay. You don't have to decide at this very second. Let's eat!" she suggested, stabbing the barely cooked piece of meat on her plate with her fork.

Blood formed a watery red pool under the steak as she cut into it with zest. Urie could not help but notice the almost predatory look in her eyes. Her eyes. For a second he believed he saw a strange glow, a golden yellow luminescence, emanating from her irises.

Urie shook his head, delving into his breakfast but not quite as heartily as her. He tried not to stare as she plowed through the super rare steak and four soft scrambled eggs with the vigorous appetite of a professional body builder.

What are you?, the question echoed inside his brain.

The new, emotional side of him, full of feelings alien to him, spoke up, She's a woman who is pretty and nice. Someone you might like, possibly be able to get close to, maybe even love, if you allow yourself.

But why? Why would I want to do that?, he asked himself.

"Mr. Urie, are you okay?" Miyu asked, interrupting his argument with himself.

"I was just thinking I'm going to be late for work," he lied, washing down the lump in his throat with another mouthful of the disappointing coffee. She really had spoiled him with her personal touch.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know," she said.

"Why are you apologizing? I asked you to come here," he reminded her.

"Well, I'm sure your boss won't be too angry. He's a really nice and understanding guy," she stated in a way that made him think she knew Haise Sasaki personally.

"And how would you know that?" Suspicion clouded his opinion of her all over again.

Tread lightly. Don't trust her. You can't trust anyone, warned his inner voice. He was more comfortable and accustomed with this leery, distrustful side of himself.

Miyu shrugged, shaking her head, and giving him an off handed smile.

"Just a guess. I didn't mean to assume too much. I have a tendency to always want to see the best in people, their good side," she rambled nervously. "I'd hate for you to be in trouble because of me."

"It will be fine. I'd never allow myself to get into trouble because of you," he remarked more harshly than he intended.

"Ooookay," she murmured, rising from the table with her purse in her hand. Her cheeks burned a bright red, the coloration spreading across her face. "I should be getting home to sleep. Thank you for breakfast."

Urie stood to his feet, bowing to her. Although part of his brain screamed at him to apologize, he refused. Arrogant pride and pigheaded obstinance still dominated his personality. He had not changed that much yet.

"Thank you, Miss Nakashima for allowing me the honor to treat you to a meal," he said using unnecessarily extreme formality.

"Good bye," she returned icily, bowing to him.

Urie watched her walk away. He could not help but admire her as she held her head high, striding at an unhurried pace instead of running away from him despite having been humiliated. Strong, confident; a woman who can be bent but not broken. Fascinating.

You're such an asshole, remarked the newer, emotionally sensitive part of him.

He could only agree with the blunt self-assessment.