They don't hold hands. He thinks it's inappropriate. She thinks it's unnecessary. Still, there are times where they both wonder how the other's skin would feel like. Clasp their hands together in the midst of battle, tell them that everything's going to be alright, that they're going to survive.
She doesn't need to tell him that they're going to survive.
He doesn't need to tell her that it's going to be alright.
In a life of war, you get used to the danger sooner or later. Everything becomes routine, systematic, kill-or-be-killed, each movement calculated and timed, specific and planned. Neither of them have to tell each other because it's expected. The survivability rate is remarkably high for the both of them, and is essentially untouchable when they're together.
He doesn't need to tell her.
She doesn't need to tell him.
"Thank you."
Non-verbal communication is what they do best. He nods to her and she does the same, and almost instantaneously a hundred of words could be exchanged.
"You were great."
"That was amazing."
"You are beautiful."
"I love you, too."
Of course none of those were said. When he looks at her, he sends her a strategy, a signal, a warning, and when she looks at him, it is a response, a reply, and a signal for them to commence the next step.
"Your right."
"Got it. Behind you."
"Yes."
She cuts his assailant's shoulder. He pierces her opponent's chest. She doesn't look at him this time, and he doesn't look at her, either. The brevity of their conversations make them effective, expeditious, they are best at what they do, and they are better together.
They are better together.
However, neither of them will be the first to admit such a romanticized fact.
"I am faster with you."
"And I am more effective with you."
"I look forward to our next mission."
"As do I."
Are the words exchanged in the aftermath of the battle. He grins despite his fatigue, and she does the same. She gathers the discarded swords and he picks up the kunai. When he glances towards her direction, he wants to ask her to dinner, but silences himself before he thinks aloud. And when she looks at him, she wants to treat him to dinner, seeing as he is one the first she would consider to be able to compliment her fighting style almost seamlessly.
"I am better with you."
"As am I."
Is a conversation reserved for their individual dreams. However, she breaks their record of lasting an entire mission. As they are on their way back to the village, she asks him when the village gates are in sight.
"Are you hungry?" She blurts out.
"Slightly." He replies after a pause.
She doesn't know what to say next. "Oh."
He hesitates before asking, "Do you want to eat?"
"If you want to."
"I don't know." She honestly doesn't. "Partially?"
"How about we grab a bite before turning in?"
"We can work on the report." She adds, "Together."
"It sounds plausible."
A pause.
"Where do you want to eat?"
A long pause.
"Anywhere."
"Alright."
The village gates are a few yards away.
He hesitates. "Where do you plan on eating?"
"I haven't decided yet."
"Ah."
"Yeah."
Past the village gates.
"Ramen?" She suggests.
"Sure."
That's it. They both conclude that non-verbal communication suits them best. In the ramen stand, they eat in silence, occasionally handing the report to each other and finishing each other's sentences.