yumi takes her time, selecting answers with care. he had envisioned a clever woman when walking through the threshold into the casino, but he hadn't expected cunning. her mask is carefully crafted porcelain and try as he might, he cannot worm his way through any cracks. her pause betrays nothing - only that she cares deeply the direction of their conversation. 

is she simply occupying him as a worthwhile investment? or is she genuinely intrigued by their conversation? 

it poses a challenge, one nikkari is both wary of and excited by. 

"possibly, though i spent most of my time down in motostoke."

their caviar arrives and deep conversation drifts back to the surface, where they chat about the pairing. the bubbles sink into his belly, lapping at his bloodstream. he tells her of his own meager travels, marveling at her own, and when they're not biting into food, they're warding away silence with words. 

by the time he tucks his hands into his napkin and crosses his silverware over his plate, the bottle is nearly gone. their server splits the last pour between the two of them and prepares to fetch a dessert menu per his request. 

"you've been a gracious hostess this evening, miss hasegawa." sometimes answers are gifted after blunt questions. "i won't be affronted," he starts, tracing the rim of his champagne glass with one finger, "but may i ask if you dine often with your patrons?"

with a smile, "so that i might know before i make a fool of myself and offer to take you out to dinner elsewhere, when you're off the clock."

Yumi Hasegawa

☉

it's a consolation, at the very least, to know he's left a positive mark after their first meeting. his eyes and his smile betray his delight. on a half-drunk bottle of wine, the professional edges of his candor have fizzled away. her words are softer on the tongue, softer on his ears, and with full bellies and a warm, dimming candlelight between them, they must lean in a little closer to speak. 

his elbows are on the table, sleeves rolled up. he takes the offered card in one hand. his other reaches behind him, for the jacket thrown over his chair, to fish out his wallet. 

he tucks it in front of his credit cards and tosses the black fold of leather onto the table. 

"i'll call on you soon," he promises. the last drop of champagne slips down his throat. the table is bare, most everything else plucked by the expert hands of their server. 

"i've a few loose ends to tie up at work the remainder of this week, but i'll make time the next, if your schedule permits." he's no idea the carnival is rolling into town over the next few weeks or that he'll happen to be on a job when they run into each other in its midst. 

Yumi Hasegawa

☉