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They meet again in a coffee shop, the very next day – in actuality, though, they happened to be at the same place at the same time, and their eyes meet over the crowds and the noise, and they know each other. It is hard, after all, to forget the face of a charming, smiling enemy.
“You first.”
“No, no, it’s all right.”
“I insist.”
Karen Kasumi’s first thought, of course, is that Yuuto Kigai is perfectly capable of knifing her from behind while they’re waiting, but she reminds herself that this is Tokyo at rush hour and killing someone in a crowded coffee shop probably isn’t a good idea. So she smiles, and takes Yuuto’s place in line. Four people ahead – not too bad, not too long. She’ll be free soon enough.
…Except she isn’t, because there’s no place free save a table for two out on the street side, and she’s still got an hour to kill before her shift.
“Well, that’s convenient,” he says, drawing her attention away from her wariness and towards the hand he’s placed on her arm. “I did need a good smoke.”
“You’re expecting me to join you?” Her tone is light and teasing, but he looks like a gentleman, and gentlemen can read the grammar of incredulity in a woman well enough.
“Why not?”
She wonders, briefly, if that’s the sort of smile he wears when he’s asking a dame to throw those clothes off and ditch the damned panties.
“…Or you’re not a fan of smokers.”
“It’s fine. My mother used to.”
Yuuto ends up picking out the table, even after he’s insisted that ladies ought to be the ones to delegate for this sort of thing – he compensates by pulling out the chair for her, waiting until she’s settled before settling in himself. Karen pays him back in kind by leaning forward as he rummages around for his Zippo, and lighting his cigarette with a neat little snap of her fingers.
Something goes cold and still in his eyes, but the smile never wavers. She returns the gesture with a smile of her own. The cars zip down the road beside them; people are talking in the other tables, talking and smiling and laughing.
“You looked like you needed the help,” Karen finally says, as she leans back and rips a packet of sugar open. Yuuto laughs, and sips his coffee.
It’s a normal conversation, for the most part: they talk about their jobs, the idiosyncrasies of their bosses, and small, personal details that don’t really amount to anything in the long run. He goes through a few cigarettes; she attends to her mascara after she finishes her drink. The last fifteen minutes are silent, but neither of them mind. It is Karen who breaks away first, just checks her watch and remembers she’s got a client waiting for her. Yuuto stands up to accompany her to the end of the street.
“Thank you – really, you didn’t have to.”
“It’s the proper thing to do.”
“We’re not going to do this again, I think,” Karen declares with a winning smile.
Yuuto beams right back.
“Probably not.”
The light turns green, and the people around them start walking. He turns away once she’s disappeared in the crowd.
Later that evening, Kanoe asks Yuuto how his day went while she’s pushing his coat off of his shoulders. He smiles, says it was dull as usual, and removes her brassier with a single, decisive snap.