A/N: Heyyy! thanks for the suggestions for the poster, I'll go with the one suggested by someonefan10110110 as its pretty nice regarding the title, it fits more I think. Anyway, here's your chapters, plus some others I'll see if I can edit fast.
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Sunday had passed without seeing Touka, and it felt wrong. We didn't meet on Sundays—she worked, I had paperwork or patrols—but after Saturday's confession, the empty day stretched longer than usual. I'd spent it sketching ideas for a real date, wondering how to ask her properly. Museum? Too stuffy. Dinner? She always had those complications with food. My apartment was covered in crumpled paper from rejected plans.
Now, Tuesday morning, I sat in the CCG main office conference room trying to focus on the briefing instead of mentally rehearsing how to ask her out. The slides clicked past showing ghoul activity patterns—mostly old news repackaged with fresh timestamps.
"The S-rated ghoul 'Jason' of the 13th Ward has been quiet for several months," the presenter announced. "Intelligence suggests he may be consolidating territory rather than actively hunting."
"Or he's found a new hobby," Yamamoto whispered. "Maybe took up knitting."
I suppressed a laugh as the slides shifted to more recent concerns.
"The Binge Eater continues to live up to her name. Seven confirmed kills this month alone across multiple wards. The pattern suggests she's eating more frequently than ever before."
"A ghoul that actually earns that title," someone muttered. "How novel."
"Associate Special Class Mado, your thoughts?" the presenter asked.
Mado stood with his characteristic dramatic flair. "The increased frequency indicates either growing hunger or growing confidence. Perhaps both. She's becoming bolder, less careful about leaving evidence behind."
The meeting dragged on through lunch, covering territory disputes and resource allocation. By the time we broke, my brain felt numb from PowerPoint exposure.
"Nakamura-san!" A young investigator with black hair approached with earnest enthusiasm, bowing. "First Class Amon Koutarou. It's an honor to meet the youngest Associate Special Class."
"Just Sota is fine." I shook his offered hand, noting the firm grip.
"I've heard about your record. Mado-san says your combat skills from Ward 24 were extremely remarkable for someone so young."
"Just lucky, really."
"Luck doesn't kill an SS-rate ghoul," Mado appeared beside his partner like a ghost. "Young Amon here appreciates proper skills. Unlike some who rely solely on powerful quinques."
His eyes fixed on my coat. "Speaking of which, I'm curious about your quinque. Knives, aren't they? Rather unusual choice."
"They work for my style."
"May I?" He gestured toward my coat. "Professional curiosity. I've never seen the set that took down an SS-rate."
I hesitated, then carefully pulled out one knife. The blade hummed faintly with stored RC cells, edge gleaming under the fluorescent lights.
"Fascinating." Mado studied it without touching. "The craftsmanship is exquisite. Self-repairing, if I'm not mistaken? Absorbs RC cells from defeated ghouls?"
"Something like that."
"I'd love to borrow it for study—"
"Sorry, they're a matched set. They don't work well separated." I slid the knife back into its hidden sheath.
"Pity. But understandable." His smile was sharp. "Tools like that must be carefully maintained. Especially with threats like the Binge Eater growing bolder."
He swept away with Amon trailing behind, the younger investigator giving an apologetic bow.
"That man gets creepier every time," Yamamoto said once they were gone. "Nice kid though. Shame Mado will probably break him."
"Or make him just as obsessive." I checked the time—1:30. If I hurried, I could make it to Anteiku by 2:15. "I need to go."
"Hot date with coffee shop girl?"
"Not yet. That's... actually what I wanted to ask you about."
Yamamoto's face lit up. "Finally! Okay, what's the situation?"
As we walked to the parking garage, I explained Saturday's confession and my decision to be more direct.
"So you laid it all out there," he summarized. "Good. Now what?"
"Now I ask her on an actual date. No ambiguity. No study plans. Just... a date."
"About time. So, what's the plan?"
"That's where I need your help. She always has 'family things' when food's involved. So dinner's out."
Yamamoto considered this. "Weird dietary restrictions?"
"Maybe. Or just... complicated family rules?"
"Museum? Movie? Walk in the park?"
"Museum could work. She mentioned liking literature, so maybe art would—" I stopped. "I'm overthinking this."
"Completely. But it's adorable." He clapped my shoulder. "Just ask her. The where doesn't matter as much as the asking."
"Right. No backing down."
"That's the spirit. Now go get her, our youngest ASC." (Associate Special Class)
I drove to Ward 20 breaking only minor traffic laws, my mind rehearsing different approaches. Direct, but not too aggressive. Clear, but not too pushy.
The familiar weight of Anteiku's door felt heavier today. Inside, the usual afternoon calm was disrupted by loud laughter from the counter.
"—and then the guy tries to run WITH the register!" A man with spiky hair was gesturing wildly. "Like, where did he think he was going?"
"Koma, you're scaring the customers," Touka said, but she was fighting a smile.
"What customers? It's just—oh, hey! You must be the famous Sota!"
I froze. Famous?
"Koma!" Touka's face went red. "He's not—I didn't—"
"Relax, Touka-chan." A woman with long dark hair appeared from the back. "Though she did mention you several times while we were gone."
"I mentioned all the regulars!" Touka protested. "Because you asked who came by!"
"Sure, but you only described one as 'the art student who comes every day and is actually nice.'" The woman smiled at me. "I'm Irimi. This loudmouth is Koma. We work here too when we're not dealing with family drama."
"Nice to meet you." I moved to my usual table, trying to process this development. Touka had talked about me to her coworkers. Positively.
"Coffee incoming," Touka muttered, escaping to the machine.
"So you're the one teaching our Touka-chan to draw," Koma said, following me. "She actually practiced while we were gone. Never seen her so focused on something that wasn't work or school."
"She's a quick learner."
"Mm-hmm. Quick learner. That's what we're calling it." He winked. "Well, don't let me interrupt your 'study session.'"
He sauntered back to the counter where Irimi was polishing glasses and definitely not eavesdropping.
Touka arrived with my coffee, still pink. "Ignore them. They just got back yesterday and they're being weird about everything."
"Family stuff resolved?"
"Something like that." She set the cup down carefully. "You're later than usual. Long meeting?"
"Quarterly review. All the greatest hits." I kept my voice light. "Fascinating stuff."
"Sounds like Byzantine architecture levels of exciting."
"Worse. At least Byzantine art has pretty mosaics." I pulled out my sketchbook, then set it aside. "Actually, before we start—can I ask you something?"
Her expression shifted, cautious. "Okay?"
"Would you go to the museum with me this Sunday? There's a Monet exhibition, and I thought..." Deep breath. Direct. Clear. "I want to take you on a date. A real one. Not studying, nor study lessons. Just us in the museum."
The shop seemed to hold its breath. Even Koma stopped pretending not to watch.
"Sota—"
"I know you have complicated family stuff. I know there are things you can't tell me. I'm not asking for those." I met her eyes. "I'm asking for a Sunday afternoon. The museum. You and me."
She opened her mouth, probably to say it was complicated, then closed it. I waited, not filling the silence, yet not backing down.
"I..." She glanced at the counter where Irimi gave her a subtle nod. "Which museum?"
Hope flared in my chest. "Tokyo National. The exhibition runs until six, so we could go around two?"
"No food?"
"Just art. Maybe a walk in the garden after if the weather's nice."
She was quiet so long I thought she'd say no. Then: "Okay."
"Really?"
"Really. Sunday at two." A small smile broke through her uncertainty. "But I'm warning you now—I know nothing about Monet."
"That's what I'm for. Professional art nerd at your service."
"Dork." But her smile widened. "I should—other customers—"
"Touka." I caught her hand before she could flee. "Thank you. For saying yes."
She squeezed back quickly. "Thank me if I don't embarrass you with my ignorance at the museum."
"That's impossible."
She escaped to serve a new customer, but I caught her glancing back with that soft expression that made my chest tight.
"Smooth, art boy." Koma appeared with a plate. "Manager says this is on the house. Celebration sandwich."
"I didn't order—"
"Did you or did you not just score a date with our prickliest server?"
"She's not prickly."
"She threw a cup at me last week!"
"You probably deserved it," Irimi called out.
I ate the sandwich (turkey, as always) while sketching, but my focus was shot. Sunday. Real date. Museum. I'd done it!
(Mental world of Sota: imagine a little Sota jumping around excited shouting yahoooo!!!)
"You look pleased," Touka observed during her break.
"I have a date with a pretty girl who throws cups at annoying coworkers."
"One time! And he really did deserve it." She settled across from me with her tea. "So. Monet."
"The museum has water lilies, Japanese bridges and gardens, its always very peaceful. I think you'll like it."
"Because I need more peace in my life?"
"Because you know how to appreciate beautiful things in life, I just want to show you more."
She ducked her head, but I caught the pleased expression. "Should I, um, dress nice? For the museum?"
"Wear whatever you're comfortable in. Though..." I grinned. "Maybe leave the apron at home."
She kicked me under the table. "Jerk."
"Your jerk, apparently."
"Oh god, we're going to be one of those couples, aren't we?"
"Couples?" I raised an eyebrow. "Moving fast, Kirishima. Although I don't dislike it." I mean...
Her face went red. "I didn't—that's not—ugh, shut up and show me how to draw birds better."
We spent her break working on bird shapes, hands occasionally brushing as I corrected her grip. Normal lesson stuff, except for the awareness that hummed between us now.
"I should get back," she said eventually.
"Same time Thursday?"
"Unless you're too busy planning our date to remember."
"Never too busy for you." I started packing up. "Besides, I need to make sure you're prepared. There might be a quiz at the museum."
"You wouldn't."
"Guess you'll have to show up to find out."
She shook her head but smiled. "Thursday then. Bring easier homework please."
"You always say that."
"You never listen."
"Part of my charm."
"Debatable."
I left Anteiku feeling lighter than I had in weeks. As I drove back to my apartment, my phone buzzed at a red light.
Yamamoto: So??? Don't leave me hanging!
She said yes. Sunday, museum.
MY BOY! I knew you had it in you! Claire owes me money.
You bet on us too?
Everyone bet on you two. Shinohara has next month in the pool.
There's a pool?
Focus on the important part: YOU GOT A DATE!
I couldn't stop smiling the whole drive home. Sunday felt forever away, but I already knew it would be worth the wait.
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A/N: Claire's the receptionist that is pretty laid back... (I just invented the name, if anyone knows it I'll change it).
Also pretty nervous uploading this chapters xd, since honestly I hope to receive feedback on how the romance goes.