Guilt gnawed at her over the course of the weekend.

It was mostly a result of her conversation with her sister that left her in such a state but she'd be lying too if the sight of the white box of shirts didn't wear at her nerves. The dessert box was easy enough to ignore after she ate her way half way through it Saturday night.

It sat innocently on her couch, pushed to the very edge on the cushion she rarely sat on. Taking up space. Taunting her. Warning her. She'd probably sound neurotic if anyone could hear her thoughts. It's just a box. They're just blouses.

But she'd been down this road before and she was in no hurry to walk her dumbass back down it.

She lived a lonely and even monotonous life now but it was a sacrifice she was willing to make. But wouldn't a friend be nice? Even if he was the leader of a Yakuza family? Or was that just sad? Was she so desperate for normal human interaction that she'd befriend a criminal?

…..Maybe.

They didn't have shit in common, maybe except for their sense of humor. He was sarcastic and she'd been popped in the mouth many times growing up for her snarky disposition. But other than that, what else was there? Their careers were different as hell and what did she even know about him? Besides the obvious.

Not a damn thing.

Sunday evening was when she worked up the nerve to pick up the white box again. She carried it into her bedroom, dropping it on the bed with a soft frown. Very carefully, like she was afraid the fine material would burst into flames from her touch, she dug a shirt out of the box.

"Well," she mumbled after trying it on. "He certainly has taste." She turned in the mirror, eyeing herself from different angles. "Or maybe he had a girlfriend pick these out. That'd be weird though…" She ran her hands down her front though there were no wrinkles to be found. "This shit must've been expensive."

She checked for price tags or a receipt but found none. It was probably for the best. If she saw, in fine print, how much it all ended up costing, she'd flip her shit.

Xin shrugged out of the shirt and carefully hung all the blouses up in her closet. It'd be a shame not to wear them, to let them go to waste. Even if it did make her a tad bit uncomfortable to have. They just…those blouses looked expensive. She hoped her coworkers wouldn't talk shit about it.

She was pulling her tank top back on when there was a knock at her front door. She paused and stared through her opened bedroom door. Her eyes narrowed and she glanced at the clock. It was nearly ten o'clock, almost her bedtime.

There was another knock, one that made her stomach turn. No one knew where she lived. No one was supposed to know where she lived. Biting her bottom lip, Xin cautiously crept out of her bedroom and towards the front door.

She paused at the front door and grimaced. Maybe investing in a metal bat to sit by the door would be in her best interest. On the tip of her toes, she leaned against the door and looked out of the peephole.

"Oh," Xin blinked before dropping away from the door. She pulled the door open and peered out into the darkness. "Gaara! What are you doing here?" She reached for him. "You're not hurt again, are you?"

He didn't look injured, leaning against the frame with a casual air hanging around him. She still looked him over, hunting for any splotches of red. There were none to be found.

"Not this time," Gaara answered easily, looking down at her. "I do need your help though."

She folded her arms across her chest and squinted up at him. "I sincerely doubt you need anything from me."

He grunted, neither agreeing or disagreeing. "I need you to take the stitches out."

She hadn't been expecting that sort of request, head tilted to the side in question. "You…don't you have like…a doctor on your payroll or something?" She wasn't really sure how these Yakuza families operated but it probably made sense to have their own personal doctor on call.

"Unavailable. Can you do it or not?"

"Of course I can do it," she rolled her eyes with a huff. "I'm just saying, to come all the way here just to get some stitches out seems a little…"

"Redundant?"

"I was going to say stupid as fuck but that's a nice word too."

The corner of his mouth began to pull up into a smile. "I was in the neighborhood."

Xin scoffed and shook her head before taking a step away from the door. She moved completely out of sight, not even looking back when he followed inside. He could hear her rustling around in her room, probably digging through that heavy ass first aid kit.

When she returned to the living room, he was sitting on her couch, looking wholly uncomfortable. "Where'd you get this piece of shit couch?" he muttered in disdain, ignoring her when she rolled her eyes.

"Sorry if it's not up to your expectations."

"I hope you never fall asleep on this thing, shit can't be good for your back."

"Now you sound like a crotchety old man," Xin laughed. "Pull up your shirt, let me see. Hopefully it's not infected or anything." He did just that, pulling up his shirt to reveal her neat stitching. She eyed it critically before nodding. "Lucky for you, removing stitches is far easier than putting them in."

"Fantastic."

Again she rolled her eyes but knelt down, running her fingers over the stitches carefully. They weren't bleeding and they weren't leaking any sort of pus. He did a great job caring for them, which surprised her because she assumed he'd end up tearing them in another scuffle.

She focused on cutting the stitches, gently pulling them out with practiced hands. He didn't feel any pain, just the tugging of his skin. "What are you doing out here, Xin?" Gaara suddenly asked, staring down at the crown of her head.

"I told you, I'm here so I can send money—"

"Alone. Why are you here alone?" He doubted that her parents were happy with her being here, on her own and so far from them. Sure, she was an adult but what did that mean to parents? She wasn't married, so was it really necessary to be on her own already?

Besides, even if she did feel the need to leave her little rural town for work, she could've stayed in Osaka. Coming all the way to Tokyo seemed strange. In his experience, when people made such drastic moves, they were usually trying to leave something behind. Usually it meant they were running from something.

But what on Earth could sweet, ditzy Xin be running from?

She pulled the last stitch free of his skin and stared hard at the scar. It would fade eventually, thanks to her skills. "What's wrong with being alone?"

What a sad thing to say, for someone to be so young and preferring loneliness.

"I don't think you were made to be alone."

She laughed softly, fingers very gently resting against the scar. "Little pretentious of you to say after only knowing me a little less than a week."

"Pretentious of you to say I'm a nice Yakuza boss."

"You aren't?"

"Not at all."

She smiled up at him, like maybe she didn't quite believe him. Nonetheless, she didn't argue against him and simply stood up. "If you say so," she murmured softly, turning away in favor of her kitchen.

"Which one is your bathroom?"

She pointed it out to him, listening as the door clicked shut softly behind him. She puttered around in the cramped kitchen, throwing away the used stitches, her thoughts bouncing off the inside of her skull.

Before she could sink too deeply into her thoughts, there was another knock at her front door. She paused and for the second time, turned to stare at the front door. Another knock at the door. She glanced towards the bathroom but the door was still closed and the water was running.

"Well, okay then.." she muttered while moving towards the door. Again, she used the peephole but to her confusion, she couldn't see anything. It was pitch black. "The fuck…." She made the dumb decision to crack open the door, peering out suspiciously.

The door suddenly burst open, causing Xin to stumble backwards unless she wanted to get smacked in the face by it. The door cracked against the wall and two men came storming in.

They were both tall men with impressive muscles, though one had a more stockier build. The one closest to her was the taller of the two with light coppery-brown hair nearly as long as hers pulled back into a ponytail. His eyes were nearly the same color and she might've thought they were pretty if they weren't glaring down at her.

His companion was the one with a stockier build. His hair was brown as well but much darker than his companion, sporting an undercut hairstyle. His eyes were dark, maybe black but she couldn't tell all that well. Unlike the first man, he didn't seem as nearly as murderous.

The first man, interestingly enough, had a gun. A gun that was now being shoved into her face. He forced her back into her apartment and she went, hands automatically shooting up.

"Where the fuck is he?"

Xin laughed nervously. "What the fuck?"

He shoved the gun harder into her face, nearly pressing it into her nose. "Well? We tracked his phone here, what'd you do?"

Behind him, the other man's gaze swept over the apartment apathetically. "Easy, Jura," he said in a casual drawl. He had no real agency in his voice, much to her disdain.

"Un!" Xin huffed, hands still up in surrender. "Could you, um, not fuckin' shoot me in the face?" She was laughing again, a nervous giggle that she couldn't help.

He shoved harder, knocking the barrel of the gun into her forehead painfully. "Not until you tell us what you've done!"

"Why're you laughing?" The other man questioned, eyes narrowed only slightly.

"I'm nervous!"

Maybe all their shouting finally caught up to Gaara because the bathroom door opened then. He stepped out only to pause, eyes sweeping over the strange scene going on in the living room. Everyone turned to look back at him but no one moved. Xin didn't dare move mostly because the gun was still digging into her goddamn forehead. She was definitely going to have a mark.

Gaara crossed the room quickly, smacking the gun away from Xin's face. "Get that shit out of her face," he shoved his way in between them, forcing Xin to take a step back. "Fuck's wrong with you?"

"Boss!" Jura scrambled to right his gun, tucking it into the waistband of his pants. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Safely guarded behind Gaara, Xin huffed indignantly. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Gaara only glanced at her because they knew exactly what it was supposed to mean. Her apartment was no luxurious place, that's for damned sure. Sure, fine, it was shit but this Jura person didn't have to say it like her place was ridden with diseases.

The other man, who'd been mostly silent, cleared his throat. "Who's your friend?" he asked innocently enough. "New girlfriend, perhaps?" Kankuro was rather nosy when it came to his brother's personal life.

Both Xin and Gaara made a strange face at that. "Friend," Gaara uttered blandly. "She's not my type."

Offended, Xin gaped at him. "I'm not your type? Like you're some prize, criminal?" She scoffed and marched away before Gaara could retort, heading for her front door. It was still open, letting anyone who happened to pass by to peer inside if they wanted.

"Safe to say she knows your occupation," Kankuro said with a hum.

"Clearly. Now explain to me why you thought it was necessary to gang up on her and shove a gun into her face."

Jura made a strange noise in his throat. "How was I supposed to know you were holed up in here with some kid? We thought you were in trouble."

"I'm twenty-three!"

"No we didn't."

"What kind of trouble?" Gaara asked in a casual drawl. Xin was still standing at the door, looking down with a tight frown. Those two thick headed thugs tracked dirt all over her floor.

"I don't know, the same kind of trouble that required stitches the last time you vanished." Kankuro folded his arms across his chest, back turned completely to Xin. it was obvious he didn't think of her as a threat anymore, though he wasn't sure if he'd thought so to begin with, small as she was.

"I thought it made sense to have the person who stitched me up remove them herself."

"That's the Doctor who stitched you up?" The brunet blinked in surprise, thumb jabbed over his shoulder at Xin. She hardly looked old enough to be in her twenties, let alone a doctor.

"She's not a doctor."

"I'm not a doctor!" Xin said at the same time, dodging around them. Before she could duck into the kitchen, Kankuro caught her by the elbow. Her eyes fell to his hand the same moment Gaara's eyes did. "Yes?"

"If you aren't a doctor," Kankuro leaned in, looking her straight in the eyes. "What are you?"

What was she, indeed. Just some random country bumpkin with the odd talent of stitching up torn skin? It wasn't completely unheard of. Those rural towns had a tendency to look out for their own, it wasn't so hard to believe that she picked up a thing or two.

"I'm nothing special," Xin replied after a moment. "Now if you don't mind, you nefarious nimrods dirtied up my floors."

"Nefarious nimrods?" Jura mouthed in confusion. Kankuro let her go though, watching as she busied with cleaning up behind them, grumbling about rude gangsters tracking dirt all over the place.

"…Where'd you find her?" Kankuro asked after a moment, eyebrows raised.

"I ran into her randomly and she forced me into letting her stitch me up."

"You're welcome!"

Jura watched, a little put off by how hard she was scrubbing at the floor. He glanced down and realized with a grimace that he and Kankuro were still wearing their shoes. "Erm….maybe we should go…" he suggested, pointing at his shoes.

Kankuro sighed and nodded. "We probably should."

"Oh my God, there's a hole."

The three of them turned at her sudden outburst, attention falling on the doorknob-sized hole in her wall. Xin was also staring at the hole, her expression aghast. "They're going to take that out of my deposit," she whispered in a strained voice.

Gaara and Kankuro's gaze fell on Jura, silently judging him for the assault on Xin's front door. He grimaced in guilt. "Xin, we're leaving," Gaara announced, striding towards her and the front door. She tilted her head back to look at him, eyes squinted in annoyance.

"You're just going to leave after your wackadoo warrior over there damaged my property?"

"It's not your property, since you're renting," Gaara replied evenly, slipping into his shoes. They looked expensive. "Wackadoo warrior, that's an interesting one."

"I can't tell my landlord about this," she motioned wildly to the hole. "He'll take it out of my rent or—" she paused with a horrified look. "What if he increases my rent? For shit's sake, that asshole is going to bleed me dry."

Gaara grunted low, halfheartedly listening to her rambling as he leaned down and caught her by the arm. She was still going as he pulled her to her feet. "It's fine, Jura will come and fix the hole."

Kankuro cackled, "He is?"

Jura gaped, "I am?"

Gaara only glanced over his shoulder, looking none too pleased nor did he look amused. "You're the one who kicked in the door."

"Yeah and almost took me out with it!"

Gaara patted her arm, a more polite way of telling her to shut the hell up. The gesture didn't go unnoticed by Kankuro but he kept quiet for the moment. "Should be an easy fix for you, Jura. Get it done and get it done fast."

Jura pouted in defeat. "Sure thing, Boss."

Gaara looked at Xin. "Satisfied?"

"For now, Boss."

He made a face and with his hands shoved into his pockets, leaned deeply into her personal space. Startled, she leaned back but didn't step away. "Don't call me that."

Xin giggled nervously but held her hands up as a sign of surrender. "Okay, okay." She wanted to argue that he had his own nickname for her and she never objected to it. Why she hadn't objected to it was beyond her.

He nodded one time before jerking his head towards the door. "Kankuro, Jura. Let's go." He didn't offer any sort of goodbye or give her any warning this time but she didn't think much of it.

Kankuro eyed her suspiciously as he followed after the redhead, squinting even. He offered a quiet goodbye and Jura followed behind, nodding his head as his farewell.

Xin watched the three men vanish into the night, leaning against the doorframe with a soft frown. She was at a loss, confused and unsure about her next step. He called her his friend when Kankuro asked and even denied any attraction to her.

Not that it mattered or anything but she still had to wonder, why her? But like she thought earlier, a friend would be nice. Not a best friend or anything like that but maybe an ally. A living, breathing person to talk to, besides her coworkers and the occasional phone call home.

"I'm not his type," she reminded herself with a firm nod. "Good. I'm not his type." She closed the door, noticing the slight tremor of her hand. "Not his type. It won't be the same." She shook her hand out.

She repeated the mantra until she fell asleep.

She wore the bow-collared blouse to work the next day, tucked into a slim fitting skirt. She didn't think much of it but it garnered more attention at work than what she was used to. Even the older employees who didn't pay much attention to her were eyeing her. Maybe they thought it was too nice for her. They weren't wrong per se but they could at least try to be more discreet about it.

"Any plans today?" Masaru asked close to quitting time. "No date with the Yakuza criminal?"

"No, not that I know of," she answered wryly. She really couldn't say for sure if Gaara would show up again. "I told you I'm not interested in dating, Shibata."

"I know but he might be."

Xin snorted and rolled her eyes, not really surprised with all his badgering. "I'm not his type."

"You didn't even know his name, how would you know what is and isn't his type?"

She shrugged one shoulder. She wasn't as dumb as everyone thought she was, she knew they thought she was a random country bumpkin. She knew they tittered behind closed doors at her accent and the way she spoke. And she knew anyone would scoff at the mere suggestion that a Yakuza boss would be interested in a simple country girl like her. But that was fine because it was an absurd thought, after all.

Not his type. Not his type. NotNotNot.

"Well," Masaru cleared his throat when he realized she wasn't interested in answering. "My invitation still stands." His grin made her quesy. She doubted she was Masaru's type either but then again, his type just seemed to be women in general.

"Thank you but I must decline. I've got to get straight home today anyway, and get some maintenance done."

He perked up, not the least bit swayed. "I'm pretty handy, maybe I can take a look at it."

She let out a nervous laugh, eyebrows slightly raised. Showing this man where she lived would go down as one of the dumbest mistakes she could make. One wrong move like that and she'd end up tied up in his basement.

No thank you.

"Oh, no. It's fine. I already have someone coming to fix it up." That wasn't a lie.

He deflated. "Aw, Hyuga, come on. We could have a lot of fun if you gave me a chance. I promise to show you a good time. A real good time."

Country bumpkin or not, she understood his implications. She didn't like it. "That's inappropriate, Shibata," she said instead, her voice stony.

He grinned but it was weak at best. "Don't be such a prude, Hyuga! I only meant we'd have a lot of fun on our date. Maybe karaoke? Or a movie!"

That was a fat ass lie but she couldn't call him out on it. She wasn't sure of his temperament. Men rarely liked being called out on their shit and some of them didn't take too kindly to a bruised ego. Bruised egos resulted in bruised throats.

Still, she politely denied him again. She'd keep denying him until another pretty girl came along.

Their workday ended and she wasn't slapped with overtime. Masaru was his usual self, trying to convince her to reconsider as they clocked out and left. She wasn't going to, would never reconsider but she let him babble away anyway. It was better that way.

Masaru was relieved when they stepped outside and there was no sign of Gaara. He noticed that Xin also did a cursory sweep as well. He knew she was just trying to play off the weird relationship between her and the redhead.

She did suddenly pause though, her attention focused on something. It was true that Gaara was absent but in his place was an intimidating black truck. And on the hood of that black truck sat Jura. Unlike Gaara's casual, almost lazy, disposition, he was sitting up attentively. He was leaning forward, legs spread and powerful arms resting against his thighs as he waited.

Masaru blanched but Xin seemed hardly fazed, simply eyeing the large brunet. He was dressed casually, colorful tattoos peeking out from beneath his sleeves. He realized with a start that the brunet was an associate of Gaara's.

What the fuck was going on with this girl and these thugs?

Jura slid off of the hood and came bounding towards them. It was a stark contrast to the man she met the night before, shoving a gun in her face and demanding answers. He looked friendly and if it weren't for the colorful and intricate tattoos running down his arms, he'd seem like a normal young man.

"Jura," Xin greeted first with a tentative smile. "I wasn't expecting you."

Masaru eyed her warily. She wasn't expecting him but she certainly didn't seem surprised. She didn't seem all that upset either, turning fully towards the large brunet.

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Yeah, well…" he trailed off before his gaze landed on Masaru. His friendly expression didn't change all that much except for the slow hardening of his eyes. "Who's your friend?"

Xin glanced at Masaru, blinking as if she'd forgotten he was even there in the first place. "We work together," she explained shortly. "Shibata, this is…Jura."

It wasn't lost on him that she used Jura's given name. She claimed that she had no relations with any of these thugs but she was on a first name basis with them. Talk about unfairness.

"…Nice to meet you," Masaru said begrudgingly.

Jura was still watching him before smiling. "Sure." His gaze was still hard. Xin grimaced but didn't protest when Jura reached for her, hands gently wrapped around her wrist. "Come on, Xin. Boss was very clear that I get you home."

"Oh, alright." Why wasn't she protesting? She snatched her hand away immediately when Masaru grabbed her. "I'm going, Shibata. Have a nice night and I'll see you tomorrow."

"Right, see you tomorrow."

She didn't turn back, allowing Jura to usher her into the truck. Masaru watched her the entire time, feeling something like dread in his chest. This wasn't fair.

It wasn't fair.

As always, despite the rather strange turn of events, Xin was grateful for a drive home. She wriggled her toes in her heels, sighing at the telltale ache. Another bath tonight with a boatload of epsom was in her near future.

"You didn't have to drive me home," she said once she realized an awkward silence threatened to settle. It was the least he could do, honestly, after assaulting her goddamn wall and sticking a gun in her face. "I appreciate it."

Jura shot her a quick glance, one hand on the wheel while the other squeezed the back of his neck. "No problem, uh—Gaara wanted to make sure you got home okay."

"Oh." She blinked. That was…nice.

NotNotNot.

"And—" Jura grimaced and squeezed hard at his neck, muscles straining against his shirt. "I'm really sorry about…sticking a gun in your face."

Truthfully, she was more upset about the hole in her wall. Sure, having a gun shoved into her phone was jarring as fuck but she drew the line at money. Who knows how much it would cost to get that hole taken care of? What if her landlord really tried to raise her rent or some shit in retaliation?

Gun to the face, that she could handle. Increase in her rent? No sir.

"Well," she said around a big sigh. "Let's not have it happen again, okay? I don't have some hidden agenda to hurt your boss."

"Sure, sure," he nodded quickly. She was right, it was obvious she wasn't plotting on him. Twice he'd been in her apartment and she hadn't done anything but help him. It was odd but she seemed odd.

After all, who the hell laughed while staring down the barrel of a gun? Sure, she claimed she was nervous but it still struck him as odd. Most people tended to react differently when facing down a gun.

"I won't do it again, I promise," Jura said sincerely, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. She was slouching into the seat, head pressed against the window as she stared listlessly out of it. "Erm, how was your day? What do you do?"

Xin's face twitched. "Oh. Um, like secretarial things? It was okay, I guess. How was your day, kill anybody?"

Yep, she was weird.

Jura choked on his spit and swerved the car a little. "What—no! Why would you ask that?"

"You shoved a gun in my face."

"I wasn't going to actually shoot you."

"…Really."

He stubbornly kept his mouth shut because if things had gone tits up last night, he absolutely would have shot her. If the circumstances called for it, of course. But that hadn't been the case and he really did feel bad for it. Imagine trying to help someone out, only to be threatened with a gun.

Yes, yes, he was a moron. Gaara reminded him of the fact.

"How old are you?" Xin prompted, as if sensing his inner turmoil. She was smiling again, which was a relief to see.

"Twenty-five and you said you're only twenty-three?"

She scoffed, "Only?"

"You barely look older than eighteen."

"It's the genes," she said. "My parents still look pretty young for their age too." It clearly wasn't the first time someone mistook her for a younger age. "Got any siblings?"

"Four. Five, really, since we count my younger cousin."

"I bet your house was loud growing up," she said in a serious voice, chuckling when Jura squawked with laughter. "Are you the oldest?"

"Nah, I'm in the middle. Older brother and sister, younger sister and brother. My cousin's your age. How about you? Only child?"

"No, I've got two sisters." She paused and seemed to think something over. "A twin and a younger one."

"You're a twin?"

"Mhm. She's the older one though."

"Huh. Another one of you running around."

"Like I'm so bad? A brood of you running around? Do they harass innocent bystanders with weapons too?"

"I said I was sorry."

"Sorry won't clear up my trauma."

"Oh my God."

They arrived at her apartment shortly after. "Do you know how to actually fix the hole or are you just going to wing it?" Xin asked as she waved him inside.

"Of course I know what I'm doing," Jura huffed, attention on the hole. It wasn't a large hole but it was noticeable. His stomach roiled in guilt. It was an easy fix, he reminded himself. He'd get it done and get it done quickly. "Won't even take long," he said with a grin.

Xin meanwhile paused at her couch, lifting one leg up to rest against the other. With no preamble, she reached under skirt and peeled her stocking down her leg. Jura watched, suddenly feeling a bit uncomfortable.

Um, okay.

"Let's hope not," Xin said over her shoulder, completely oblivious and vanished into her bedroom. She emerged not long after that, dressed comfortably and out of her work clothes. She came trotting back over, eyes darting between him and the door. "Can I watch?"

He made a strange noise in his throat but nodded nonetheless. "Sure but it's not like it's exciting or anything."

She shrugged and sat down out of his way, content for some reason to just watch. She didn't bother him through the entire process, she didn't fiddle on her phone or call anyone or do…anything. She simply sat quietly and watched. In a bid to fill the strange silence, he explained each step to her.

He couldn't say for sure if she really cared or if she was even fully listening but she didn't protest. She asked a question here and there but that was about it.

True to his word, he finished up pretty fast and it didn't even look like the wall had been damaged in the first place. Xin whistled as she climbed to her feet, impressed and nodded in approval. "I guess you are useful for something besides traumatizing unsuspecting women."

Jura groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Grudge-holder." He sighed and glanced at his watch, realizing he still had some time left before he was expected back. "Um, are you hungry?"

She squinted up at him, arms folded across her chest. "My treat," he said after a moment's pause. "You know, to say sorry and everything. I know a spot that serves great fried chicken."

Her harsh gaze softened and her arms loosened. That was a good sign. "Is it…expensive?" she asked slowly. Really, he made up for it by fixing the damage and driving her home. Anything more was unnecessary, she was not hard to please. But fried chicken…she hadn't had some in so long.

God, she loved food.

"Expensive?" Jura repeated with a soft frown. "I don't…think so?" And really, who cared anyway?

"Well…" She was hungry and she'd been planning on eating ramen after he left but chicken sounded so much better. There…there wasn't any harm in it.

Yes, there is.

You shouldn't be doing this.

He's the same

They're all the same.

"I am hungry.." she trailed off with a grin.

Don't make the same mistake.

Jura grinned down at her, knowing she was on the cusp of agreeing. "I think you'll like it." He cocked his head towards the door, waiting patiently for her to finally agree.

Xin slipped into her shoes and gave in. "Who doesn't like chicken?"

NotNotNot.

TeeBeMe: It's no fic of mine unless there's some trauma sprinkled in lol