Irimi sat at a scratched-up table in Anteiku, the coffee shop she'd called home for years, rain pouring down outside even if a bit subsided.
The place was dead quiet now, just the hum of the fridge and the clock ticking on the wall.
She stared at it, watching the hands crawl past midnight.
12:15.
Kirishima was three hours late.
Her fingers drummed the wood, restless.
She hated waiting.
She'd been with Anteiku forever, it felt like.
She liked the calm here, pouring coffee, chatting with regulars.
It beat running from CCG or fighting for scraps.
But tonight, the calm was choking her.
Kirishima and her had their thing.
Every Sunday, after Anteiku locked up at 9, they'd sneak off to some bar.
He'd flop into a booth, red hair a mess, and ramble about his latest CCG disaster—tripping over his quinque, blowing up something he shouldn't.
She'd laugh, call him an idiot, and sip her drink.
They'd been doing it for more than a year now.
He was human, sure, but he got her.
Didn't judge.
She glanced at her phone.
No reply.
She'd called him twice—voicemail both times.
Her gut twisted.
He'd bragged yesterday about tracking the Binge Eater.
Rize.. Irimi knew that ghoul—strong, brutal, not someone to mess with.
"Don't be dumb," she'd told him.
"File a fake report. Say you lost her trail."
He'd just grinned,. "I can handle a little snooping. Relax~."
She'd rolled her eyes, but now? No word.
No Kirishima.
This wasn't him.
He never ditched their Sundays.
Once, he'd skipped a reinforcement order to meet her—got suspended for a week.
"Job's not worth this life," he'd said, clinking his beer against her glass.
She'd smirked, but she'd liked that about him.
He cared more about living than orders.
So where was he?
The shop door creaked.
Yoshimura stepped out from the back, his old face calm as ever.
The shop owner—Owl—wiped his hands on a rag.
He glanced at her, then the clock. "Still here, Irimi?" he asked, voice soft but steady.
"He's late," she muttered, crossing her arms. "Three hours. No call."
Yoshimura nodded, slow, like he was thinking it over. "Maybe he's swamped with work....You know how the CCG is—piles of emergency reports, late nights."
"Could've forgotten his phone somewhere."
Irimi snorted. "Him? Forget his phone? He'd lose his axe first."
She leaned back, staring at the ceiling. "He was after the Binge Eater. Told me yesterday... I said it was stupid."
Yoshimura raised an eyebrow, setting the rag down. "Rize, hm? She's a handful. But Kirishima's… resilient. Clumsy, but resilient."
"Resilient doesn't mean invincible," Irimi shot back.
She rubbed her face, tired.
She'd seen too many people vanish—ghouls, humans, didn't matter.
Kirishima was a goof, sure, but If Rize got him… She didn't finish the thought.
Yoshimura poured a cup of coffee and slid it her way. "Give it time. He'll stumble in, stinking of trouble, with some wild story.."
Irimi took the cup, but her eyes stayed on the clock. "Better hope so," she said quietly.
Here's Kirishima getting ready, thinking about Irimi and finding the ring! Keeping it simple and heartfelt.
---
Kirishima stepped out of the bathroom, a towel around his waist.
Water dripped from his hair, hitting the floor.
He felt alive—way more than he should after almost dying.
He started humming, then sang loud. "Well, you can tell by the way I use my walk, I'm a woman's man, no time to talk!"
He strutted, grinning, towel flapping. "Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin' alive, stayin' alive!"
His voice cracked, but he didn't care—Rize didn't kill him, so he was hyped.
He tossed the towel on a chair and grabbed some boxers, the song fading out in his head.
The trash stink was gone, scrubbed off with half a bar of soap.
He sniffed himself—clean, but not enough.
Irimi was gonna be furious.
Three hours late for their Sunday hangout?
He could see her now, arms crossed, glaring. "You're dead, Kirishima," she'd snap.
He smirked, imagining it.
Better soften her up. He rummaged through his dresser, pulling out a black shirt and fancy coat.
Slipping them on, he grabbed his cologne—expensive stuff he got from a lucky sale.
He sprayed once, then twice, then a third time for luck. "Gotta smell good for the lecture," he said, checking his reflection.
His hair was, wild as ever, but he left it.
Irimi liked it messy—she'd never say it, though.
He tugged on a clean shirt and his jacket, axe leaning by the door. He'd need to get her a present.
Flowers? Nah, too basic.
Coffee? She'd just say Anteiku's was better.
He scratched his head, pacing. Then his eyes landed on the drawer by his bed.
His will was in there.
Every CCG officer had to write one.
His was simple: all his money to Irimi, his stuff sold off to fund some NGO.
He walked over—and opened the drawer.
Inside, tucked under the paper, was a small box.
He picked it up, careful not to crush it with his new strength.
The lid popped open.
A ring.
A red ruby sat in the middle, surrounded by tiny black gemstones.
He'd bought it months ago, back when he started thinking… maybe.
Maybe he'd ask her.
Kept chickening out, though.
He stared at it, rolling it between his fingers.
Today, he'd almost died.
Rize, the dumpster —yet here he was, alive, stronger.
"Lucky day," he said softly, a small laugh escaping.
No better time than now.
He slipped the box into his pocket, grabbed his axe, and headed out.
Irimi could yell all she wanted—he had something bigger to say.
---
Irimi sat at the table in Anteiku, staring at the clock.
12:30 now.
She'd been glued to it for the last half hour, eyes locked, not blinking once.
Time dragged, and her chest felt tight. Kirishima was still a no-show.
She sighed, long and heavy, and pushed herself up from the chair. Her legs ached from sitting too long.
Yoshimura had gone to bed a while ago, leaving her alone. "Close up whenever," he'd said, voice calm as always.
The shop was hers to lock tonight. She shuffled to the back, flipped the switch, and killed the power.
Lights flickered off, plunging Anteiku into dark.
She was done waiting.
Time to close up.
She grabbed the keys and her umbrella, stepped outside, and locked the front door with a click.
The night air hit her, cool and sharp.
She stood there, looking equal parts troubled, equal parts vulnerable.
Her tough shell cracked —Kirishima never bailed like this.
Was he hurt? Dead? Her mind spun, and she hated it.
Then—footsteps.
Fast, loud, running toward her.
She turned, hand twitching like she might fight.
It was Kirishima.
He skidded to a stop, wearing a nice suit—black, crisp, a little wrinkled.
His red hair was a mess, but he smelled like too much cologne.
Before she could speak, he threw his hand up. "Sorry, sorry!...I had a little accident!"
Irimi's eyes widened, relief washing over her face.
He was here. Alive.
Her shoulders dropped, and she let out a shaky breath she didn't know she'd held.
Then her cheeks flushed, a deep blush creeping up as she stepped closer. "A little accident?" she said, voice soft but trembling.
"You know how worried I was…?"
=======================
500 powerstone for Bonus chapter...
Currently on release day I'll release as much as i want but after today it'll be one chapter a day for the first week.
Power Stones and Reviews please