Akane wondered if this was some kind of strange joke or a prank. But it would have to be a super elaborate one. She picked up a napkin and played with one corner of it, starting to tear little lines into it. Across from her, Hawks was admiring the artsy photograph set on the wall over her head.

"That's new," he said, resting an elbow on the table and planting his chin in his palm. "There was a painting of a fox there before."

Akane tore a tiny bit of the napkin off and rolled it into a ball with her fingertips. "Your hobby is memorizing restaurant decorations?"

"One of them." He grinned. "Or maybe I just notice when things change."

Because he memorized things. She set one teeny paper ball on the wooden tabletop. Around them, people were pretending not to look at Hawks while they attempted to stare at him at the same time. Being the Number Three Hero in Japan had that effect, she guessed. It wasn't like she had never noticed him before their chance meeting the other night. He was impossible to miss. For her part, Akane wished they had been given a table in a back room or something, but that wasn't an option here. It would be awkward being alone with him, but the attention from everyone was so much worse. At least they had been tucked into a back corner of the restaurant. She shrunk back, her shoulders hunching, hair falling partially in her face. The restaurant had put them at a table with chairs instead of a booth, which made it easier to accommodate their wings.

"Is spending the entire meal wondering if you're going to jail going to ruin your appetite?" Hawks asked quietly from behind a small menu, the lower part of his face hidden.

"I was the one who suggested it," she said, "So nope. Going to enjoy this last meal to the fullest. I might even get dessert." The menu idea was nice. Grabbing her own, she used it to cover her face entirely.

His menu tapped the top of hers, gently pushing it down. His eyes met hers. "I'm not turning you in to the police."

"Sure." She tried to lift her menu but he put pressure on it, keeping it down so she couldn't hide from him.

"I'm serious," he said.

"I said sure." Pulling her menu down, she slipped it out from under his and pretended to be absorbed in it. Except she already knew what she was ordering. She came by this restaurant every now and then with Yugo and Mr. Chisaka or her other coworkers. Mr. Chisaka owned the bookstore, and there were about seven full and part-time employees.

"I can't keep you from getting arrested, though," he said, his voice still low. "If they catch up to you."

Akane put down the menu. He was looking up at the ceiling, as if maybe he also memorized ceiling patterns as well as artwork. Neither of the said anything until the waitress came over and took their order, which was for the only reason they came here, the hotpot. Once she left, Akane picked up her tortured napkin again. She added a few more napkin balls to the first, creating a little pyramid.

"I know what I'm doing," she said, "And I don't expect you to protect me or save me or anything. Obviously." She really had thought he had shown up to arrest her, after all.

Hawks watched her for a long, steady moment, and she didn't look away even though it was tempting. That half-lidded stare was mildly unsettling when it was fully aimed at you. Finally, he shrugged. "It's your life. I won't stop you. But I wish you'd consider the license option."

"No, thank you."

She couldn't live like that, being the center of attention, doing interviews, popularity polls, commercials, TV shows, brand deals. Everything in her recoiled from it. However, those were the expectations placed on pros. Hawks' face was plastered all over Fukuoka, his merch was inescapable. They sold Hawks bookmarks at the store. Very few pros could get away from the spotlight, and wings weren't great for not catching people's attention. Akane couldn't imagine her own face on a billboard. And there were other reasons why she just…just couldn't. But she knew she had to help others whatever way she could, and it seemed like a waste to not use her abilities when they were most needed.

There food was brought out, side dishes and the main course. It simmered in front of them, cooking steadily. Hmm…maybe hotpot was a bad idea. Fast food would have been a better, less social option since now she was sort of stuck here with him.

"What's your name?"

She jerked her head up. She hadn't realized that she had been staring at the pot, willing it to magically cook faster. Hawks popped a piece of tempura into his mouth and waited.

"You don't know?"

He grinned and pushed the plate of tempura toward her. "Nope. Should I?"

"I thought you found me in a database or something," she said, "How did you know where I worked?"

He shrugged. "I'm good at finding people." He nudged the plate again. "Come on, these are great."

Picking up a mushroom with her chopsticks, she sighed. "Akane Hirano."

"Akane." Hawks nodded. "It fits."

Because of her hair. It was a solid autumn leaf red and past her waist. She needed to cut it but she had been growing it for years. Her long pointed ears always popped out from the red waves.

"And what's your name?" She chomped down on the mushroom, realizing a second too late that it was bigger than she thought. Stuck chewing on it like an overactive squirrel, her cheek jutted out, she watched him like he had watched her.

"Falcon Albatross," he teased, "Hawks just sounds better."

"Hilarious."

"I was a comedian in a past life," he said. He stole the plate back, yoinking a shrimp.

"You can't or won't tell me?" she asked, genuinely curious now.

"Both…?"

Akane nodded. "All right, be mysterious. I don't have a hero name, and you don't have a civilian name. I guess we're even."

Hawks tilted his head to the side, looking like a confused cockatiel. "You don't even have a made-up vigilante name?"

"Do I need one?" she asked, "I don't…I'm trying to avoid all that."

"The news will eventually give you a name," he said, turning his attention to their cooking meal. "If they like you, it might be cool. If not, you're going to get saddled with something like HealWing."

Akane scrunched her nose up. "You give them a name for me, then."

Hawks leaned back, lowering his chopsticks. "We can't look like we're working together."

"We're not," she said quickly, "Because we won't, because we are very much not doing that."

"Okay…"

"But if they ask, you could just say you heard someone yell whatever name you pick at me," Akane said, considering. "Also, should I just avoid you from now on, or…?"

"No," he said, steady.

She arched an eyebrow at him. "Then how are you going to explain it when I just happen to get away if you're not going to—"

Hawks' eyes went half-lidded. "I hope you're not about to say anything with the word 'arrest' in it again. You've worn that word out tonight."

Akane smiled a tiny bit. "All right, then what's your plan?"

"I'm figuring it out. But I don't think you can avoid me." He peered down at the hotpot. "I'm faster than everyone else, so I'm going to be at most of the places that you'll be at, if you're going to keep sneakily heal people."

"You make it sound like a bad thing. And I am."

He picked up one of the small napkin balls from her pyramid. Squishing it between his fingers, he flicked it at her. It bounced off her hand as she deflected. "What makes you so sure I'll pick a good vigilante name for you?"

Ah, so he was going to avoid her accusation. She shrugged. "Your name is decent."

Something shadowy flickered in his eyes, a difference in his somewhat carefree demeanor. "Glad you like it. Still, you might want to pick your own…"

"Nope."

Hawks blinked and then chuckled. "Okay, okay." He took a deep breath. "Ready to eat, Ms. Hirano?"

He switched topics so quickly. She wasn't sure if he did it on purpose to keep her on her toes or if that was just what he did sometimes. "Yes, Mr. Hawks."

Smirking, he started serving them, putting hearty portions in both their bowls. At least the meal was going to be good and she wasn't going to jail and he wasn't going to turn her in to the authorities. Akane was still waiting for this to turn into a joke, but maybe it was going to be okay, after all.