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“What do you typically do for fun?” she asked instead, itching to roam the city more.
“Work,” he mumbled unenthusiastically.
“That cannot be all.” She stirred around the whipped cream with her straw. “If I wasn’t with you right now, what would you be doing?”
Ronin took a long swig of his coffee. He sighed when he noticed Naia waiting patiently for his response. “I’d take a night off from cooking and go to my favorite place to get takoyaki. Then, I’d eat in my apartment and waste away on my couch watching black and white movies… Until Avi came banging on my door and ruined my peaceful night.”
“What is takoyaki?”
“They are hot, grilled balls, usually filled with octopus and topped with bonito flakes.” He paused briefly, popping the knuckles of his free hand. “My mom used to make it all the time when I was growing up. It’s my favorite.”
Naia glanced down at his thumb curling around each finger and popping. Something he only did when he appeared to be uncomfortable or on edge. “Sounds delicious,” she said.
“I’ll take you sometime.” He looked over at her as he said the words, and if she didn’t know any better, it sounded like he was asking her out on a date. “If you want.”
A light smile parted her lips. “I’d love that.” She took another sip of her coffee, and then in a teasing manner said, “You must be grateful for me. For I have broken the dreadful cycle of your bland routine.”
Ronin rolled his eyes, grinning. “I can be exciting when I want to?—”
An ear-catching tune sounded.
They paused in the middle of the sidewalk in front of an occult shop, and Ronin pulled out his phone from his pocket and put it to his ear. “What?”
He slightly shifted his body, facing the street. Naia gave him a moment of privacy and fixated on the occult shop window. Free tarot card reading! She had no idea what it meant, but the flickering flames of candles caught her eye through the tinted glass.
Above her reflection, fat shadows shrouded over her, their masses rippling. The breath died in Naia’s lungs. Marina.
Her muscles stiffened, and she whipped around.
“Whoa.” Ronin was directly behind her, tucking his phone away, brow creasing. “Are you okay?”
Naia’s pulse pounded in her ears as she searched over Ronin’s head. There was nothing there but the last touches of the fading sunset glinting off the downtown city buildings.
Ronin’s eyes flitted around her face, searching for the answer she wasn’t giving.
“Y-yes, I am fine,” she got out through an exhale. “I think maybe we should go back to your apartment.”
He shook his head. “Why?”
“Because.” It’s safer.
Ronin studied her a beat longer, his intensely perceptive gaze burning through the front she shielded herself with. “What are you afraid of?”
“You said you wouldn’t ask questions.” Naia diverged her gaze down to the melting slush in her cup and pressed her tongue on the roof of her mouth, refusing to answer.
“Holing up in my apartment is no safer than being out in the open. Besides, the night’s not over yet. I have somewhere else I want to take you.”
She lifted her chin then to look at him, her pulse skipping at the thought of remaining vulnerable. “It’s not safe.”
Whether she was simply paranoid and seeing things in the reflection of the glass, it served as a reminder of the stakes she was up against. Mira. Marina. Cassian.
Naia’s hand came up to rest on the top of her shoulder, brushing her fingertips underneath the hem of her shirt and over her skin. Her last curse mark felt like an engraving, and often, she’d absentmindedly trace its design. Within seconds, she’d remember its purpose and the fact it chained her to Kaimana. The feeling was hollow and unending, and it was only a matter of time until she bore another curse mark on her skin. Whatever it may be, she had no right to involve Ronin.
All the previous joy and happiness Naia carried out of the café drained away. In its place was nausea and unease.
“We’re friends, right?” Ronin asked, his voice softening.
She tilted her head, contemplating the definition of friendship. “I suppose, but I am not sure. I haven’t ever had a friend.”
