Chapter Text
Nicole paced back and forth across the dimly lit room, her heels clicking against the tiled floor in an agitated rhythm. A faint crimson glow shimmered in her eyes—subtle, but unmistakably supernatural. She threw her hands up in frustration.
“I don’t understand it!” she snapped. “Everything is going fine—perfectly fine—and then halfway through, they panic and run! Out the door! One of them jumped out a window, Anby. A window!”
Anby sat stiffly on the edge of a worn couch, hands folded in her lap. Her expression was calm, almost blank, though her eyes followed Nicole with quiet attentiveness.
“That is… statistically concerning,” Anby said after a pause. “Windows are usually considered secondary exits.”
Nicole stopped pacing and turned toward her, exasperated. “That’s not the point! Why are they running at all? I’m supposed to be irresistible.”
Anby tilted her head slightly. “You are, in a broad sense. But your expectations may exceed human tolerance thresholds.”
Nicole blinked. “What does that even mean?”
“It means,” Anby continued, her tone matter-of-fact, “you are asking for multiple outcomes simultaneously. Physical stamina, emotional engagement, sustained focus, and additional… financial commitments.” She glanced briefly at Nicole’s outfit, then back to her face. “Humans have limits.”
Nicole crossed her arms, clearly unconvinced. “I’m not asking for that much. Just some energy, a little bit of attention, and maybe—” she gestured vaguely “—nice dinners, gifts, a penthouse suite if they’re feeling generous.”
Anby nodded slowly, as if processing a complex equation. “That aligns with my assessment. Your request includes both life energy extraction and a luxury lifestyle package.”
“Exactly!” Nicole said, as though that settled everything.
Anby paused again, then spoke with blunt clarity. “That is likely why they flee.”
Nicole stared at her. “What? Why?”
“From the human perspective,” Anby explained, “they are invited into an intense and unfamiliar situation. Midway through, they realize the cost includes not only their endurance but also financial depletion and potential existential risk.” She clasped her hands a little tighter. “This produces fear.”
Nicole groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “Ugh, humans are so dramatic.”
“Fear responses are common survival mechanisms,” Anby replied. “Running is efficient.”
Nicole resumed pacing, though slower this time. “But I don’t just want energy. That gets boring. I want comfort too. Style. Luxury. It’s not unreasonable to expect a little sophistication while I… do my thing.”
Anby considered that. “Perhaps you need to prioritize.”
“Prioritize?”
“Yes. Choose a primary objective per interaction. Either minimize perceived threat and maintain engagement or maximize resource acquisition.”
Nicole stopped again, frowning. “So you’re saying… I should tone it down?”
“I am suggesting you calibrate your approach to match human capacity,” Anby said. “Gradual escalation may improve retention rates.”
Nicole let out a long sigh, shoulders slumping slightly. “Retention rates… I can’t believe this is what my life has come to.”
Anby nodded once. “Adaptation is part of survival. Even for a succubus.”
There was a brief silence. Then Nicole muttered, “I still think jumping out a window was excessive.”
“Agreed,” Anby said. “A door would have been more practical.”
Nicole snorted despite herself, and for a moment, the tension in the room eased.
Anby shifted slightly on the couch, her brows knitting together in faint confusion as she processed Nicole’s earlier complaints.
“Clarification required,” she said, her voice even. “What exactly happens before they run?”
Nicole waved a hand dismissively, as if the answer were obvious. “Nothing unusual. I set the mood, I get them comfortable, you know—standard approach.”
Anby waited.
Nicole sighed, then elaborated, pacing again. “Okay, so first I ease into things. I ask them for a small show of commitment—some money, maybe access to their accounts, deeds to their house if they have one, and trust fund rights if applicable.”
Anby blinked once.
Nicole continued, unfazed. “Just to establish trust.”
“…That establishes the opposite,” Anby said bluntly.
Nicole ignored that. “Anyway, once that’s sorted, then things start to get interesting. I’m just about to begin the energy transfer, everything is perfectly aligned, and then—” she threw her hands up again “—they just suddenly panic and run away!”
She looked genuinely perplexed.
Anby stared at her for a long, silent moment.
“They ‘suddenly panic,’” Anby repeated.
“Yes!” Nicole said. “Completely out of nowhere.”
Anby straightened slightly. “To confirm: you request access to their financial assets, property ownership, and long-term wealth holdings before initiating an already intense and unfamiliar encounter.”
Nicole nodded. “That’s what I just said.”
“And then you attempt to drain their life energy.”
“Well, I don’t just attempt—”
“—and you are unsure why they flee,” Anby finished.
Nicole crossed her arms. “Exactly. It makes no sense.”
Anby exhaled softly, as if recalibrating.
“From a human perspective,” she began, “this sequence of events appears as follows: they are lured into a situation they find appealing, then immediately confronted with high-stakes financial demands and irreversible commitments. Before they can process this, the situation escalates further into something physically and psychologically overwhelming.”
Nicole frowned. “You’re making it sound worse than it is.”
“I am describing it accurately,” Anby replied.
Nicole scoffed. “It’s not like I’m asking for everything. Just enough to be comfortable.”
“Property deeds and trust funds are typically categorized as ‘everything,’” Anby said.
Nicole waved that off again. “Details.”
Anby shook her head slightly. “Then, just as they begin to realize the extent of what is happening, their survival instincts activate.”
“Survival instincts?” Nicole echoed.
“Yes. This results in what you described as ‘sudden panic.’ The running is a direct response to perceived danger.”
Nicole looked unconvinced. “Danger? I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to them.”
“That is not their interpretation,” Anby said flatly.
Nicole groaned. “Humans are so ungrateful.”
“They are self-preserving,” Anby corrected.
Nicole stopped pacing and turned to her, frustrated but thoughtful. “So you’re saying it’s not the energy-draining part that scares them?”
Anby considered that. “It is a factor. However, when combined with immediate and comprehensive financial extraction, it significantly amplifies the perceived threat.”
Nicole opened her mouth, then paused.
“…So which part is the problem?” she asked reluctantly.
Anby answered without hesitation. “All of it. Simultaneously.”
Nicole sighed dramatically, dropping onto a nearby chair. “I just don’t see why I have to choose. I want energy and luxury. Is that really so unreasonable?”
Anby stared at her for a moment longer, then said, in the same calm tone:
“For humans? Yes.”
Nicole slumped back, muttering, “Unbelievable…”
After a short pause, Anby added, “You may achieve better outcomes by not presenting all demands at once.”
Nicole glanced at her. “You mean… spread it out?”
“Yes. Sequential engagement may reduce immediate fear responses.”
Nicole tilted her head, considering it.
“…Fine. Maybe I’ll try asking for the penthouse after,” she said.
Anby nodded once. “That is a measurable improvement.”
Nicole smirked faintly. “See? I can adapt.”
There was a brief silence.
Then Nicole added, “But I’m still keeping the trust fund clause.”
Anby closed her eyes for a second.
The door creaked open without warning.
A girl with tousled hair and a faintly feline energy about her stepped inside, stretching her arms above her head as if she’d just come back from something leisurely.
“Hey, Nicole!” Nekomata chimed, her tone light and casual. “You look like you’re about to explode. Did I miss something fun?”
Nicole turned sharply, narrowing her eyes. “Nekomata.”
There was a beat.
“…Where have you been?” she asked, her voice edged with suspicion.
Nekomata froze mid-step.
“…Oh, you know. Around. Doing things. Important things,” she said, nodding quickly.
Nicole crossed her arms. “Fishing again?”
Nekomata paused.
“…No.”
Nicole raised an eyebrow.
“…Yes.”
Another pause.
“…But it was strategic fishing,” Nekomata added quickly. “Very tactical. There were… big fish.”
“You were supposed to be harvesting souls,” Nicole shot back, clearly unimpressed. “Not relaxing by a river somewhere!”
Nekomata scratched the back of her neck, glancing off to the side. “Right, yeah, totally, that was also on the schedule.”
Nicole gave her a long, flat look.
Nekomata’s ears—literal or not—might as well have perked in alarm as she quickly pivoted. “But that’s not important right now!” she said, stepping closer and squinting at Nicole. “Whoa… your aura looks really tense. Like, spiky. Did something go wrong?”
Nicole immediately took the bait.
“Oh, don’t even get me started,” she groaned, throwing her hands up and turning away dramatically.
Anby, still seated, exhaled softly as if she already knew what was coming.
“They ran again,” Nicole continued, pacing with renewed agitation. “Another one! Everything was perfectly set up, everything was going smoothly, and then—gone! Just bolts like I’m the problem!”
Nekomata blinked. “They ran? Midway?”
“Yes!” Nicole snapped. “Every time! It’s like they can’t handle a normal interaction.”
Nekomata glanced at Anby, who gave a small, almost imperceptible shake of her head.
“…What did you do this time?” Nekomata asked carefully.
Nicole turned back, offended. “Nothing unusual. I followed the same process.”
Nekomata hesitated. “Define ‘same process.’”
Nicole huffed. “I build rapport, establish expectations, ask for some basic commitments—”
“Basic commitments?” Nekomata echoed.
“Yes,” Nicole said, counting on her fingers. “Money, property deeds, trust fund access—nothing unreasonable. Just a foundation of trust.”
Nekomata’s expression stiffened.
Anby remained completely still.
Nicole continued, completely unaware of their reactions. “Then I move things forward. I’m about to begin the energy transfer—everything’s aligned—and then suddenly they panic and run like something’s wrong!”
She threw her arms out in disbelief.
Nekomata stared at her.
“…You asked for what before that?” she said slowly.
Nicole sighed. “I just told you.”
“And you don’t see anything strange about that sequence?” Nekomata asked.
Nicole placed a hand on her hip. “No. Why would I?”
There was a long pause.
Nekomata glanced at Anby again, who simply replied, “I have already provided analysis. It was not accepted.”
“Right,” Nekomata muttered, then looked back at Nicole. “Okay, let me get this straight. You walk them into a situation, ask for their house, their money, their future financial security—”
“—temporarily,” Nicole interjected.
“—and then right after that, you’re about to drain their life energy?”
“Yes,” Nicole said, as if this confirmed her point.
Nekomata blinked again, then slowly covered her face with one hand.
“…Nicole…” she said, half-laughing in disbelief, “that’s not a ‘smooth process.’ That’s a full-on survival alarm.”
Nicole frowned. “You’re exaggerating.”
“I’m really not,” Nekomata said. “From their side, that’s like walking into a trap that keeps getting worse every second.”
Nicole waved her off. “They’re overreacting. I’m offering them a premium experience.”
Anby spoke up, calm as ever. “The experience includes irreversible financial loss and existential risk.”
“Exactly,” Nekomata added. “You’re stacking everything all at once. Of course they’re going to bail.”
Nicole groaned again, dragging her hands through her hair. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”
“Because it keeps happening,” Anby replied.
Nekomata nodded. “Yeah, that’s kind of your evidence.”
Nicole paced again, clearly annoyed but less certain now. “I just don’t understand why they can’t handle it. I want energy and a comfortable lifestyle. That’s not unreasonable.”
Nekomata tilted her head. “Maybe not in theory. But you’re kind of hitting them with everything before they can even process step one.”
Nicole muttered under her breath. “Unbelievable…”
Then, after a pause, she added, “One of them climbed out a window.”
Nekomata winced. “Okay, yeah, that’s a pretty strong reaction.”
“Windows are inefficient exits,” Anby noted.
Nicole turned back to them, still frustrated but now slightly deflated. “…So what, I’m supposed to tone it down again?”
Nekomata shrugged. “Or at least… space it out? Try not to scare them off before you even get what you want.”
Anby nodded. “Sequential engagement remains the optimal strategy.”
Nicole sighed, long and dramatic.
“…Fine,” she muttered. “Maybe I’ll… adjust the order a little.”
Nekomata grinned. “Hey, progress.”
Nicole shot her a look. “Don’t get used to it.”
Anby closed her eyes briefly, as if marking this moment as a small but significant improvement.
Nekomata folded her arms, tail flicking with mild irritation as she looked Nicole up and down.
“I’m with Anby on this,” she said. “You’re too greedy. Even for a succubus, that’s… a lot.”
Nicole stopped pacing mid-step and turned sharply. “It’s not my fault I want more than just life energy,” she shot back. “Energy gets you by. I want to live well while I’m getting it.”
There was a brief silence.
Anby and Nekomata exchanged a quiet look—one of those wordless, shared realizations.
Then Anby spoke, as calmly as ever. “Suggestion: change your strategy. Your current method—attempting to take both their assets and their lives—has a zero percent success rate so far.”
Nicole scoffed immediately. “That’s not the point. If I just take their life energy and leave it at that, then all that gold, all those assets, it just sits there. It goes to their useless descendants or their equally useless relatives. That’s a waste.”
Nekomata stepped forward, frowning slightly. “You’re not supposed to be doing estate planning, Nicole. You’re supposed to be harvesting energy. That’s it.”
Nicole rolled her eyes. “Wow. Airheaded as always. Did you even listen to what I said? I want both. That’s the whole point.”
“I heard you,” Nekomata shot back. “I just think you’re overcomplicating it. Humans aren’t built to handle all that at once.”
“They’re weak, then,” Nicole muttered.
Anby shook her head faintly. “Irrelevant. Their limitations define the constraints of your operation. Ignoring that leads to repeated failure.”
Nicole opened her mouth to argue again, but Nekomata cut in, more serious now.
“And it’s not just about you,” she said. “We’ve got a quota to meet. The underworld isn’t going to wait forever while you chase luxury add-ons.”
Nicole frowned. “Don’t start with that.”
“I’m serious,” Nekomata continued. “We need to make our numbers before the end of the century. At this rate, we’re falling behind—and that’s mostly because your targets keep escaping.”
Nicole bristled. “Excuse me? I’m the one making sure we stay in good standing. You think scraping by on bare minimum energy harvests is going to impress anyone down there?”
Anby looked up at her, expression unchanged. “Counterpoint: your current actions are not improving our standing.”
Nicole crossed her arms. “And how would you know?”
“Because,” Anby said evenly, “you have been supplementing our totals by taking reserves from other entities.”
There was a pause.
Nicole didn’t say anything.
Nekomata slowly turned her head toward her. “…Wait. What?”
Anby continued, unbothered. “Specifically, siphoning stored life energy from other succubi, and in at least two documented cases, incubi.”
Nekomata’s eyes widened. “Nicole.”
Nicole clicked her tongue and looked away. “They weren’t using it efficiently.”
“That’s not your call!” Nekomata snapped. “That’s basically stealing from your own side!”
“It’s resource redistribution,” Nicole shot back defensively. “And it keeps our numbers up.”
“It keeps our numbers artificially up,” Anby corrected. “Which creates long-term instability. If discovered, penalties will escalate.”
Nicole waved a hand. “Only if we get caught.”
“That is a poor risk strategy,” Anby said.
Nekomata stepped closer, lowering her voice. “You’re gambling everything on this, Nicole. Instead of just… doing the job right.”
Nicole turned back to them, clearly frustrated but now cornered. “So what, you both want me to just settle? Drain a little energy here, move on, live like I’m scraping the bottom?”
“Yes,” Anby said without hesitation. “Consistent, repeatable success is preferable to high-risk failure.”
Nekomata nodded. “And you can build up over time. You don’t have to squeeze everything out of one person in one go.”
Nicole let out a sharp breath, looking between them.
“…I still think it’s inefficient,” she muttered.
“Your current method is nonfunctional,” Anby replied.
Another silence settled over the room.
Nicole ran a hand through her hair, clearly annoyed—but thinking.
“…Fine,” she said at last, grudgingly. “I’ll… adjust again.”
Nekomata raised an eyebrow. “Again?”
Nicole pointed at her. “Don’t push it.”
Anby gave a small, almost approving nod.
Nicole let out a long, exaggerated sigh, throwing her hands up. “Fine. Fine. Clearly I’m the problem, apparently. So go on.” She flopped dramatically into a chair, crossing one leg over the other. “What’s this amazing, flawless strategy I should be using instead?”
Anby glanced at Nekomata.
Nekomata glanced back.
There was a brief, silent exchange—something wordless but completely understood between them.
Then, in perfect sync, they both turned back to Nicole.
“Listen up.”
------------------ A COUPLE OF DAYS LATER -----------------
The scene shifted.
A car idled quietly at the edge of a softly lit street, the glow of a restaurant sign reflecting faintly across the windshield. Inside, the atmosphere was thick with hesitation.
Wise sat rigidly in the driver’s seat, hands loosely gripping the steering wheel though the engine had already been turned off. He stared straight ahead, unmoving.
“I don’t think I can do this,” he muttered, his voice low. “I haven’t been out like this in a while.”
From the passenger seat, Belle leaned over slightly, watching him with a mix of concern and determination. “That’s exactly why you should,” she said. “This is good for you. It’s a chance to actually get back out there—maybe even find love again.”
Wise let out a short, humorless breath. “I had love,” he replied. “And now it’s gone.”
Belle’s expression softened for a moment, but she didn’t let up. “Wise…” she sighed, turning more fully toward him. “Zhu Yuan was a while ago. You can’t just stay stuck there forever. You’ve got to start looking forward.”
He shifted slightly in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. “A future that starts with a blind date doesn’t exactly look bright to me.”
Belle groaned softly, leaning back. “You’re being dramatic.”
“I’m being realistic,” Wise shot back.
“No, you’re avoiding things,” she countered immediately. “There’s a difference.”
Wise frowned, staring harder out the windshield as if the answer might be written somewhere in the streetlights. “You don’t get it.”
“I do get it,” Belle said, her tone firm now. “That’s why I went through all this trouble in the first place.”
He glanced at her. “Trouble?”
“Yes, trouble,” she emphasized, pointing at him. “Do you know how much effort I put into setting this up? Finding someone, coordinating schedules, making sure everything lined up, getting you to actually show up looking presentable for once?”
Wise looked down at himself, tugging slightly at his sleeve. “…I always look presentable.”
Belle gave him a look.
“…Okay, more presentable than usual,” he admitted.
“Exactly,” she said, crossing her arms. “So the least you can do is go in there and meet her. Just—talk. That’s it. Minimum one hour.”
“One hour is a long time,” Wise muttered.
“It is not,” Belle said flatly. “You’ve sat through longer things you hated way more.”
“That’s not the same.”
“It is the same,” she insisted. “Except this time, there’s actually a chance it might go well.”
Wise hesitated, his uncertainty written plainly across his face.
Belle leaned in slightly, softening just a bit. “Look… you don’t have to fall in love tonight,” she said. “You don’t even have to like her. Just give it a chance. That’s all I’m asking.”
He stayed quiet for a long moment.
Then he sighed, long and reluctant, leaning back in his seat. “…One hour.”
Belle immediately perked up. “One hour,” she echoed, satisfied.
Wise glanced toward the restaurant entrance, where warm light spilled out onto the pavement.
“…This is a terrible idea,” he muttered under his breath.
Belle smirked. “Yeah, yeah. You’ll thank me later.”
Wise didn’t look convinced—but after another second, he reached for the door handle anyway.
Wise pushed the car door open and stepped out into the cool evening air, immediately straightening his jacket as if second‑guessing everything at once.
“Hey,” Belle called out before he could get too far.
He paused, glancing back over his shoulder.
“I’m heading back to the video store,” she said, leaning slightly out of the window. “Stock’s a mess, and someone has to fix it.” She gave him a small, encouraging smile. “So don’t worry about me. Just… enjoy yourself tonight, okay?”
Wise frowned faintly, clearly unconvinced. “Enjoy,” he echoed flatly.
“I mean it,” Belle added, pointing at him. “No overthinking. No running away after five minutes. Just go in, sit down, talk. Normal human interaction.”
He gave a quiet, noncommittal grunt in response.
“…One hour,” he muttered again, more to himself than her.
Belle nodded. “One hour.”
With that, Wise shut the car door.
The thud echoed slightly louder than it needed to.
He stood there for a second, gathering himself, then turned and began walking toward the restaurant entrance—each step measured, reluctant, but steady.
Behind him, Belle watched through the windshield.
Her expression softened, the earlier determination giving way to quiet hope as he moved closer to the warm glow spilling out from the restaurant doors.
The farther he walked, the smaller he seemed—just a figure stepping into something uncertain.
Belle leaned back slightly in her seat, letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
“…Come on,” she murmured under her breath, a faint smile returning. “Let this work out.”
Her fingers tapped lightly against the steering wheel as she lingered a moment longer, still watching the entrance where he had just disappeared.
“…And please,” she added quietly, almost to herself, “don’t let this be a mistake.”
The light from the restaurant flickered softly in the distance as she finally started the engine and drove off, leaving Wise to whatever waited inside.
Wise stepped into the restaurant like a man walking into an obligation rather than an opportunity.
Warm light washed over him, paired with the low hum of conversations and the occasional clink of glasses. It was comfortable—inviting, even—but none of it reached him. His expression stayed flat, his shoulders slightly tense.
“…One hour,” he muttered again, as if repeating it enough would make it easier.
He pulled out his phone, unlocking it with a practiced motion. The message Belle had sent popped up immediately—table number, a short description, and a name.
He skimmed it again.
‘Nicole Demara.’
Wise exhaled quietly, slipped the phone back for a second, then pulled it out again—just to double-check. Something about the whole situation made him feel like he’d mess this up before he even got started.
“…Table… there,” he murmured, spotting the number.
He began walking.
Step by step, weaving carefully between tables, half-aware of the people around him. A laugh here, a quiet conversation there—normal life, moving on as usual.
Something he still felt a step behind.
Then he saw her.
A woman with pink hair and striking green eyes sat alone at the table, casually elegant, one leg crossed over the other. There was an ease to the way she sat, like she belonged exactly where she was.
An empty chair waited across from her.
Wise slowed slightly.
He stopped just outside the table’s space, pulling his phone out one last time to confirm.
‘Pink hair. Green eyes. Alone.’
He looked up again.
“…Right.”
He stepped forward.
“Um,” he began, his tone hesitant but polite. “Are you… Nicole Demara?”
The woman’s gaze lifted to meet his.
Then she smiled.
“Why, yes,” Nicole said smoothly, her voice warm and effortlessly confident. “That would be me.”
Her eyes lingered on him for a moment longer than necessary—measuring, assessing.
“And you must be…” she tilted her head slightly, as if already amused, “my date.”
Wise gave a small nod. “Wise.”
“Wise,” she repeated, as if testing the name. “I like that.”
She gestured lightly to the empty chair across from her. “Go ahead. Sit.”
He hesitated for a fraction of a second—then pulled the chair out and sat down.
There was a brief silence.
Nicole rested her chin lightly against her hand, watching him with a faint, unreadable smile.
Wise straightened slightly, clearing his throat. “…So.”
Nicole’s smile sharpened, just a little.
“So,” she echoed.
And somewhere beneath the surface—buried under her perfectly composed demeanor—something flickered.
Interest.
Or calculation.
Nicole leaned back slightly in her chair, studying Wise as he settled in, noting the faint stiffness in his posture and the way his eyes had flicked to his phone just moments ago.
A small, teasing smile curved her lips.
“You know,” she said lightly, tilting her head, “I don’t bite.”
'…Not yet,' she added silently, her smile not wavering in the slightest.
Wise paused, then gave a small, awkward exhale, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh—no, it’s not that. I was just… checking the details again. Making sure I had the right person.”
Nicole’s eyes softened—at least on the surface.
“Careful,” she said, her voice warm with approval. “I like a man who pays attention to the little things. It shows effort.”
Her gaze lingered on him, her smile polished and inviting—
—but beneath it, her thoughts were anything but composed.
'This is ridiculous.'
'Absolutely ridiculous.'
Nicole kept her posture elegant, one leg crossed over the other, her fingers resting lightly against the table as if she was completely at ease.
'I actually listened to them.'
Anby.
Nekomata.
'Those two…'
Her smile didn’t falter, but internally she was pacing just as furiously as she had earlier.
'“Tone it down, Nicole.”'
'“Adjust your approach, Nicole.”'
'“Sequential engagement.”'
A flicker of irritation passed through her thoughts.
'I could’ve cleared tonight in minutes if I’d done it my way.'
Instead, here she was—
Sitting.
Talking.
Smiling.
'Like this is some kind of normal date.'
Nicole’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly as she looked at Wise again, reassessing him not as prey—but as a test case.
'Fine,' she thought coolly. 'Let’s see how this “new strategy” works.'
Outwardly, she leaned forward just slightly, her tone softening into something more conversational.
“So,” she said smoothly, resting her chin lightly on her hand, “Wise… what made you agree to a blind date?”
There was a glint in her eyes—half curiosity, half calculation.
'Let’s see how long you last.'
Nicole maintained her poised posture, her smile easy and practiced as she began steering the conversation forward.
“So, Wise,” she said lightly, fingers resting against the rim of her glass, “what do you do?”
Wise didn’t hesitate. “I run a video store with my sister.”
Nicole nodded. “That sounds… nostalgic. Do you enjoy it?”
“It’s manageable,” he replied evenly. “Keeps things stable.”
Nicole hummed softly, shifting slightly in her seat. “And what do you do when you’re not working?”
“Not much,” Wise said. “Read sometimes. Fix things around the shop.”
His tone remained steady—flat, almost clinical.
Nicole tried again. “Any hobbies? Something you’re actually passionate about?”
Wise paused for half a second. “Not really.”
There was a small silence between them.
Nicole’s smile held, but internally—
'…This is painfully dull.'
She tilted her head slightly, trying to keep things moving. “Alright… favorite kind of food?”
“It depends,” Wise answered. “I don’t have a strong preference. I eat what’s available.”
Nicole blinked once.
'Does he have any emotional range?'
She rested her chin lightly on her hand, watching him as he spoke—measured, straightforward, like every answer had been stripped down to its most efficient version.
No flair.
No embellishment.
No attempt to impress.
'This might be the most boring conversation I’ve had in a while.'
Still, her gaze lingered—not out of interest in what he was saying, but in how he carried himself.
There was a certain steadiness there.
Quiet.
Grounded.
Her eyes narrowed just a fraction as she evaluated him.
'…At least he’s not hard to look at.'
Wise adjusted slightly in his seat, unaware of the silent assessment taking place across from him.
Nicole’s smile softened just a touch—more calculated now.
'That makes things easier.'
She tapped her finger lightly against the table, her thoughts sharpening beneath the calm surface.
'If I’m going to follow their advice… I might as well pick something manageable.'
Her gaze stayed on him, steady, observant.
'Calm. Predictable. Not overly reactive…'
A faint, almost imperceptible smirk tugged at her lips.
'Yes… this one should be easier to work with.'
Outwardly, she let out a quiet, pleasant laugh. “You’re very straightforward, huh?”
Wise shrugged slightly. “I prefer to be clear.”
Nicole nodded, her tone warm and agreeable.
“I can respect that.”
'Even if it’s incredibly boring.'
She shifted forward just a little, keeping the conversation going, her eyes never quite leaving his.
'Let’s see how far I can push this… without him running.'
For now, at least—
He was still sitting there.
Nicole kept the conversation moving almost entirely on her own.
“So, what do you usually do on weekends?” she asked, her tone light, almost playful.
Wise didn’t look up from his glass. “Depends. Sometimes I work. Sometimes I stay home.”
Nicole nodded. “Do you go out much? Friends? Events?”
“Not really.”
She smiled again, tilting her head. “Travel, then? Anywhere you’ve been that stood out?”
“A few places,” Wise said. “Nothing recent.”
Each answer came short. Clean. To the point.
No follow-up.
No elaboration.
Nicole’s fingers tapped lightly against the table as she carried the conversation forward, question after question, trying to build something.
“And what about movies?” she continued. “Running a video store, you must have favorites.”
“I’ve seen a lot,” he replied. “I don’t think about favorites much.”
Nicole’s smile held—
but her eyes flickered.
'This isn’t a conversation. This is an interview.'
She leaned back slightly, crossing her arms now, studying him more openly.
“So… music? Hobbies? Something you actually enjoy?”
Wise shrugged faintly. “Nothing specific.”
A pause stretched between them.
Nicole let out a small breath through her nose, her smile thinning just a fraction.
'This is exhausting.'
She straightened again, trying one more time, though the effort was clearly starting to wear on her.
“You’re… not very talkative, are you?”
“I answer what’s asked,” Wise said simply.
Nicole stared at him for a moment longer—
then her patience snapped.
“Okay,” she said, dropping the light tone entirely. “What’s your problem?”
The bluntness hung in the air.
Wise blinked, caught off guard—but not offended.
He looked down briefly, then exhaled.
“…Sorry,” he said, quiet but sincere. “I’m not trying to make this difficult.”
Nicole didn’t respond, just watched him.
He continued after a moment.
“I’ve just been… off, I guess. Lately.” He rubbed his thumb against the side of his glass, eyes unfocused. “I got out of something not too long ago. Still adjusting.”
Nicole’s expression didn’t change outwardly—but her gaze sharpened slightly.
“A relationship?” she asked.
Wise nodded faintly. “Yeah.”
A short pause.
“Things didn’t end well?” Nicole pressed.
“…No,” he said simply. “They didn’t.”
He didn’t elaborate further.
Nicole leaned back again, her posture relaxing as the answer settled in.
“Right,” she said softly, almost understanding.
But inside—
'Ugh… here we go.'
Her fingers stilled against the table, irritation creeping back in.
'Emotional baggage. Of course.'
She forced her smile back into place, though now it felt more like maintenance than effortlessness.
'So now I have to deal with a low-energy, recently heartbroken, emotionally unavailable human?'
Nicole’s eyes drifted over him again, reassessing.
Still calm.
Still grounded.
Still… frustratingly unresponsive.
'This just got even more tiring.'
She rested her chin on her hand again, watching him with mild annoyance masked under polite interest.
'At least he’s consistent…'
Her gaze lingered for a moment longer.
'And at least he’s not an eyesore.'
That faint, calculating edge returned.
'Which means this is still salvageable.'
Outwardly, she gave a small nod, softening her tone just enough to keep things going.
“That explains a lot,” she said. “You could’ve just said that earlier.”
Wise gave a faint, almost apologetic shrug. “Didn’t think it was relevant.”
Nicole let out a quiet, controlled laugh.
'Of course you didn’t.'
“And yet,” she replied smoothly, “it helps.”
She leaned forward slightly again, re-engaging—
but this time, with far less enthusiasm than before.
'This might not be worth it,' she thought tiredly
‘But at the same time that energy quota though….’
Wise shifted slightly in his seat after Nicole’s last remark, his gaze dropping to the table for a moment.
The faint reflection of the overhead light shimmered across his glass, but he wasn’t really looking at it.
‘…This is already going badly.’
He exhaled quietly, shoulders tightening just a fraction.
Across from him, Nicole maintained her composed expression, fingers lightly resting against the table as she watched him—patient on the surface, though the earlier edge in her demeanor hadn’t quite disappeared.
Wise rubbed his thumb against the side of his glass again, a small, repetitive motion.
‘I’m barely talking.’
‘She’s carrying the entire conversation…’
He glanced up briefly, meeting her eyes for just a second before looking away again.
‘She probably thinks I’m boring.’
A faint crease formed at his brow.
‘Or uninterested.’
That thought sat heavier.
‘…Great. First impression, and I’m already messing it up.’
He straightened slightly, almost like he was trying to correct something mid-course—but the hesitation didn’t fully leave him.
‘Belle went through the trouble of setting this up…’
‘And I’m just sitting here like this.’
His jaw tightened faintly.
‘She looks like she actually tried, too.’
Another quick glance at Nicole—her posture, her confidence, the way she carried the conversation even now.
‘And I’m giving her nothing back.’
A small wave of guilt crept in.
‘Yeah… I’m definitely making this worse for her.’
He let out a quiet breath and finally lifted his head again, trying—at least a little—to re-engage.
“…Sorry,” he said again, more deliberate this time, his tone carrying a touch more intent than before.
Across from him, Nicole watched him carefully.
And for the first time since they’d sat down—
there was just the faintest shift.
Not warmth.
But a noticeable change.
Nicole watched him closely as he apologized again—this time with more weight behind it.
For a brief moment, her expression didn’t change.
But internally—
'Leave now… or stay?'
Her fingers rested lightly against the table, unmoving as she ran through the options.
'This is already dragging. Low energy, emotionally stuck… frustrating conversation…'
Her eyes flicked over him again, sharper now, more analytical.
'…But.'
She leaned back ever so slightly, still watching him as he sat there—shoulders just tense enough, gaze not quite steady.
'Emotionally unstable. Recently disconnected. Low resistance.'
A faint flicker of interest returned behind her eyes.
'Those are usually the easiest.'
Nicole’s lips curved ever so slightly, her earlier irritation beginning to settle into something more deliberate.
'Less effort. Less pushback…'
Her decision formed quickly.
'Fine. I’ll stay.'
Outwardly, she softened.
Her posture relaxed, her expression easing into something gentler—almost reassuring.
“It’s alright,” she said, her voice warmer now, more even. “Really.”
Wise looked up at her, surprised at the shift.
“I get it,” she continued, giving a small, understanding nod. “Things like that… they don’t just go away overnight.”
'Even if they’re inconvenient for me,' she added silently.
There was a subtle but noticeable change in Wise’s face.
The tension eased—just a little.
“…Thanks,” he said, quieter now. “I didn’t expect that.”
Nicole gave a faint, almost knowing smile.
'Of course you didn’t.'
Her gaze lingered on him, this time more measured, more intentional.
'Hook set.'
For a moment, something almost like relief crossed Wise’s expression—like the weight he’d been carrying had lightened just enough to breathe easier.
Before either of them could say more—
“Good evening.”
A server stepped up to the table, polite and professional, menu in hand.
“Are you both ready to order?”
Nicole didn’t look away from Wise immediately.
Just long enough to let that moment settle—
that small sense of comfort.
Then she turned her attention to the server, her tone smooth and composed once more.
“I think we are,” she said.
'Let’s see where this goes.'
Across from her, Wise sat a little straighter now.
Still uncertain.
But no longer completely closed off.
And Nicole—
was still very much watching.
----------- ONE HOUR LATER ----------
An hour later.
The restaurant doors swung open, letting a wave of warm air spill out into the cooler night as Nicole and Wise stepped outside.
Nicole stretched slightly as she walked, her expression completely transformed from earlier—now bright, satisfied, and unmistakably pleased.
A wide grin spread across her face.
'Now that was worth staying for.'
Her eyes gleamed with lingering delight as she glanced back briefly toward the restaurant.
'Five-star service, full-course meal… perfectly cooked, beautifully presented…'
She clasped her hands lightly behind her back, practically radiating satisfaction.
'And I didn’t even have to fight for it.'
Beside her, Wise stepped out more quietly, slipping his hands into his pockets. His expression was calmer now, the earlier tension eased—not gone, but softened.
Nicole turned to him, her smile still warm and easy.
“That was nice,” she said, almost effortlessly.
'Understatement of the century.'
Wise nodded faintly. “Yeah. It was.”
There was a short pause as they started walking down the sidewalk together.
Nicole’s heels clicked lightly against the pavement, her pace relaxed now, almost leisurely.
'Okay… so the “normal approach” isn’t completely useless…'
Her eyes flicked toward Wise again, studying him.
He looked more at ease than before—less guarded, less withdrawn.
'And he stayed the entire time…'
A small, satisfied hum echoed in her thoughts.
'No running. No panic. No windows involved.'
Her grin deepened just a touch.
'Anby’s going to be insufferable about this…'
Nicole let out a soft breath, almost amused.
'…but fine. Point taken.'
Wise, meanwhile, glanced at her briefly.
“…Thanks,” he said after a moment. “For earlier. And for… not making things awkward.”
Nicole blinked once, caught slightly off-guard—
but only for a fraction of a second.
Then she smiled again, softer this time.
“It’s nothing,” she said smoothly. “Really.”
'It was very much something.'
'Just not for the reasons you think.'
She tilted her head slightly as they walked, her tone light again.
“I had a good time,” she added.
Another partial truth.
Wise’s expression shifted—subtle, but noticeable.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Me too.”
Nicole watched him from the corner of her eye, her thoughts sharpening again beneath the pleasant surface.
'He’s opening up.'
'Slowly… but it’s happening.'
Her smile didn’t waver.
'Good.'
She stepped just a little closer—not enough to be obvious, but enough to begin closing that invisible distance.
'This is where it starts to get easier.'
Outwardly, though, she simply glanced up at the night sky, as if completely at ease.
“So,” she said casually, “what now?”
'Let’s see how far you’ll follow.'
Nicole walked a half-step ahead of Wise before slowing, turning back toward him with an easy, practiced grace. The streetlights caught faintly in her eyes, her earlier grin softening into something warmer—more focused.
“You know,” she began, her tone light but sincere, “you were a real gentleman tonight.”
Wise blinked, a little caught off guard.
Nicole’s smile widened just slightly. “You treated me really well. And honestly…” she tilted her head, green eyes steady on him, “I’m really happy I came—despite our little hiccup earlier.”
'Which I very nearly walked out on.'
Wise shifted faintly, a hint of that earlier guilt returning. “Yeah… about that.” He rubbed the back of his neck again. “…Sorry. For how I was at the beginning.”
He looked down briefly.
“I’m still… figuring things out, I guess.”
Nicole watched him for a second—really watched him this time.
Then she softened again.
“It’s fine,” she said gently. “I told you already, I understand.”
'And I absolutely do not mind if you stay exactly like this.'
She stepped a little closer.
Close enough that the distance between them narrowed into something more personal—more deliberate.
Then, slowly, she lifted her hand and placed it lightly against his chest.
The contact wasn’t forceful.
Just enough to be felt.
Just enough to shift the moment.
Wise stiffened slightly at first—then looked down at her, surprised.
Nicole looked up at him, her expression soft, inviting.
“I’d like to treat you too,” she said, her voice quieter now, almost intimate. “If you have some time.”
Her fingers lingered where they rested against him, her eyes holding his steadily.
And inside—
'Perfect.'
Her earlier frustration, the awkward conversation, the slow start—
all of it faded away under the clarity of the moment.
'He stayed.'
'He opened up just enough.'
'And he trusts me.'
Her gaze sharpened just slightly behind the warmth.
'Emotionally vulnerable… low resistance…'
A small, invisible smile formed in her thoughts.
'This is going to be easy.'
Outwardly, though, she said nothing more—simply waiting, hand still resting against him, eyes searching his face.
Wise hesitated.
His chest rose slightly under her hand as he took a breath.
'…She’s being kind.'
'More than I expected.'
His eyes met hers again, uncertainty still there—but softened now.
'Maybe this isn’t going as badly as I thought.'
But still—
he didn’t pull away.
Wise hesitated—but not in the way Nicole expected.
His eyes lingered on hers, searching—not with desire, but with uncertainty. Then, gently, almost apologetically, he reached up and removed her hand from his chest.
Nicole blinked.
The smile stayed.
But inside—
'…What?'
“I—” Wise started, shifting awkwardly. “I think… I should take some time to think about it.”
Nicole’s expression remained perfectly composed.
'Think about it?'
He gave a small, uneasy laugh. “Tonight was good. Better than I expected, honestly. I just… don’t think I should jump into another date right away.”
Nicole froze—just for a fraction of a second.
'…Another date?'
Wise continued, completely unaware he had misunderstood her.
“I don’t want to rush into anything,” he said, glancing away briefly before meeting her eyes again. “Especially after my last relationship. I’d rather take things slower this time.”
Nicole stared at him.
'He thinks—'
Her eye twitched slightly.
'He thinks I’m asking for a second date.'
“So,” Wise went on, now more certain of himself, “if it’s okay with you… I’ll call you tomorrow? Once I’ve had some time to clear my head.”
There was a pause.
Nicole’s smile remained flawless.
“…You’ll call me,” she repeated.
“Yeah,” Wise said, nodding. “I think that’s the better way to handle this.”
'Better… way?'
A beat passed.
“…Right,” she said smoothly. “Call me.”
'This is bullshit.'
Relief visibly settled into Wise’s expression. “Thanks. I appreciate you understanding.”
He gave a small nod and started to turn away.
Nicole’s smile twitched—
then dropped.
“...Wait.”
Wise stopped and turned back, mildly surprised.
Nicole stepped forward again, irritation beginning to slip through the cracks despite her composure.
“You’re not coming with me?” she asked, her tone controlled—but sharper now.
Wise blinked, confused. “Coming with you?”
Nicole stared straight at him.
'Don’t tell me he still doesn’t get it.'
“Yes,” she said, more pointed this time. “With me.”
Wise hesitated, then shook his head lightly.
“Oh—no,” he said. “I’m fine. Really. I already have a ride back home.”
Nicole just looked at him.
'…A ride?'
Wise gave an awkward half-smile. “I don’t want to impose or anything. And… I think it’s better if I take things slow, like I said.”
Silence.
Nicole stood there, completely still.
'He’s refusing. Again.'
'Not because he’s scared.'
'Not because he knows.'
'He just… doesn’t understand.'
Wise misread the silence again.
“But I’ll call you,” he added quickly. “I meant that.”
Nicole blinked once.
Then again.
Her expression smoothed out—but this time, it took effort.
“Right,” she said. “Of course you will.”
'Unbelievable.'
“Goodnight, Nicole,” Wise said.
“…Goodnight.”
He turned and walked away—calm, steady, entirely unaware of what he had just done.
Nicole stood there.
Watching him disappear down the street.
No smile this time.
Just disbelief.
“…This is absolute bullshit,” she muttered under her breath.
Her arms folded slowly as irritation bubbled up.
'Everything lined up perfectly.'
'He stayed. He opened up. He trusted me—'
Her brow twitched.
'And he still walked away.'
She exhaled sharply.
For a brief second, she just stood there, processing it.
Then—
A sharp click of her tongue broke the quiet.
Nicole’s expression twisted, irritation finally spilling freely now that no one was watching.
“‘Maybe I should’ve left earlier…’” she muttered under her breath, her tone laced with annoyance. “This amounted to absolutely jacksquat.”
Her heel came down sharply against the pavement in a frustrated stomp as she watched Wise’s figure shrink in the distance, heading toward a car parked nearby.
'Unbelievable.'
'All that setup… all that patience… for nothing.'
She folded her arms, eyes narrowing as he opened the car door.
'That human is such a waste of time.'
Her lip curled faintly.
'Fuck that call. I’ll find someone else to steal from.'
Wise slipped into the car, completely unaware of her glare from across the street.
Nicole’s gaze lingered for just a second longer—
then she turned sharply on her heel, her hair swaying with the motion as she started walking in the opposite direction.
Nicole’s heels struck the pavement sharply as she stormed off, her thoughts still simmering with irritation.
'Next time, I’m not listening to them.'
'No “slow approach.” No “warming up.”'
'Just take what I—'
She slowed.
Then stopped.
Mid-step.
Her expression shifted—not dramatically, but just enough for something else to cut through the frustration.
A memory surfaced.
The table.
The meal.
The bill.
'…50,000 dennies.'
Nicole stood still, one foot slightly ahead of the other, her irritation pausing as her thoughts recalibrated.
'He paid all of that… without hesitation.'
Her eyes narrowed slightly as she replayed the moment.
No complaints.
No second-guessing.
No bargaining.
Just—
calm acceptance.
Her arms slowly unfolded.
'That wasn’t normal.'
Nicole turned her head slightly, glancing back in the direction Wise had disappeared.
The irritation simmered—
but now it wasn’t alone.
'He didn’t resist spending that much on me.'
She tapped her fingers lightly against her arm, thinking.
'No panic.'
'No pushback.'
'No suspicion…'
A faint, thoughtful look settled across her face.
'…That’s actually rare.'
Her earlier frustration began to soften—not gone, but tempered by something more calculated.
'And he didn’t run.'
'Even after all that…'
Nicole’s posture relaxed slightly as she exhaled, slower this time.
'If I walk away now…'
Her gaze drifted downward for a moment.
'…I might be leaving value on the table.'
The street grew quiet around her as she stood there, reconsidering.
Her lips pressed into a thin line.
Then loosened.
'Maybe I’m pulling out too early.'
Another glance back.
Faint.
Measured.
'He’s slow… dense… emotionally stuck…'
A pause.
Her lips curved—just slightly.
'…but cooperative.'
Nicole turned a bit more toward where he’d gone, no longer fully committed to leaving.
'And he already invested that much without resistance.'
Her eyes sharpened faintly.
'That’s not something you just walk away from.'
A slow breath in.
Then out.
The irritation hadn’t disappeared—
but now it had direction.
'…Maybe I almost gave up too quickly.'