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Chuuya’s all about self-improvement. He’s the epitome of self-improvement. He could write a self-help book, he’s that much the advocate for self-improvement. Mafia charity case to mafia executive— it’s how he scaled Yokohama’s underground food chain. Blood, sweat, and tears; once he sets his mind to something, he’ll see it through to the end.

Exhibit A: his combat skills. Chuuya sure as hell wasn’t the best martial artist in the mafia back when he first joined. Granted, some of that may have been due to his age — eleven-year-olds tend not to be the best fighters around — but considering that he’d just been taken off the streets, his style of battle would have been best described as a mad struggle to land even a single blow, regardless of how old he was. Years of training have paid off, though, the resolve that he’d master the art of physical combat even if he couldn’t yet master the art of his ability, and his reputation today is testament to that endeavor.

Exhibit B: his ability. If it took Chuuya a while to become a skilled fighter, it took even longer for him to become a skilled ability user. Martial arts came first, For the Tainted Sorrow second, Corruption a distant third. A late bloomer, they used to call him, and he’d been indignant at the time, but they’d turned out to be right. Gravity manipulation isn’t an easy thing to learn and Chuuya sure as hell didn’t do it in one day, but it came with experience; the era of that particular brand of pity (why was he even recruited, he can’t even control his ability, what do Mori and Kouyou see in him) has long since passed. 

Exhibit C: his cooking. Last week, Chuuya nearly burned down his apartment trying to scramble eggs. 

Exhibit C is a work in progress.

Thus he finds himself at the library on a fine Sunday afternoon, perusing the cookbook aisle with the same intensity that he usually reserves for the most difficult of tasks (see: Exhibits A and B). The culinary battlefield is still foreign territory, but Chuuya is determined to conquer it.

So, apparently, is Kyouka.

Absorbed in the books before him, he doesn’t see her immediately, and by the time he does, it’s far too late, because they’re standing side by side. Chuuya glances at her, glances back at the books, does a double take and stares. He hasn’t seen her since she joined the Armed Detective Agency, and he hadn’t anticipated on ever seeing her again— a difficult prospect, considering how close they used to be, but one he’s recently come to terms with.

Running into her here feels like ripping a Band-Aid off a wound— unexpected, to say the least. Reeling more from the shock than from the sting, it’s all Chuuya can do to manage, “Kyouka? What are you doing here?”

◣ ✿ ◥ There were time when Kyouka attempted to cook, but she only had the basics down at best; at least she hadn’t set anything important on fire–Fukuzawa probably wouldn’t be too pleased about the dorms getting burned down in an accident, and she didn’t feel like being chastised for such an event. So she figured the only thing she could do was improve (or not, for if she tried something more complicated and then burned something down, well).

All in all, if she saved money by cooking, Atsushi’s money could be spent more on treats than eating out. That was a nice thought, and while she preferred the instant gratification that didn’t require learning how to cook, learning how to make plans was a part of growing up. If she wanted to be accepted as a responsible, well-disciplined member of the agency… she could get more treats and praise.

More often than not, everyone was either busy with work or tired from work, so while outings did happen, it likely wasn’t with the discipline required for a cooking (or learning-to-cook) buddy. It’d be fine to have a partner in her journey, but she also wanted people to be proud of her learning on her own without their guidance. That, and she didn’t want to burden their schedules too much. At least, if nothing else, she had Demon Snow, who could grab utensils, stir, or hold the book for her.

She didn’t notice the man’s presence until he spoke. Anywhere else, she would have had her guard up, but a bookstore? She figured it’d be safe to indulge herself in reading more than vigilance. With her usual stoic expression, she looked over at him. It hurt, sort of. She missed him certainly, but the thought of returning to the mafia kept her repressing those emotions. After her bold declaration to prove her former mentors wrong, how could she admit that there were some aspects that hadn’t been wrong?

A moment later, her expression shifted ever-so-slightly as the shock drained from her system, replaced by the realisation of what he just asked her. What was she doing here? Kyouka stared at Chuuya for a long moment before turning her gaze to the books beside them for another half-minute, glancing back at him, and, as though to spell it out, stated, “Looking at books.”

That much was obvious, right? After all, wasn’t that why people went to bookstores?

There was so much else to say besides that, so many things she wanted to do at that moment. She wanted to ask how he’d been doing, say she missed him, hug him, whatever else, but she stood there. She didn’t do any of that. Because she wanted to see how he reacted first.

                                              And hopefully the reaction would be good.