The encounter between the two of them unfolded in the most unpredictable way. While one of them felt that everything happening had completely slipped out of her meticulously calculated plans, the other hadn't even considered the possibility that such an interaction would happen again… much less like this.
That's why, after greeting each other with forced smiles and tense faces, clearly nervous, neither knew how to proceed.
And yet, though they shared the same undercurrent of unease, their stances were very different. Haru was inwardly focused: thinking about her own safety, about what she'd do if things went south, and about the right questions to push Dylan into confessing his alleged crimes. He, on the other hand, had his eyes fixed on her: attentive to her figure, her gestures, her reactions. He was trying to guess what she might be thinking.
Sure, like any normal person, he was curious why she'd come. But his goal wasn't to interrogate her; it was to avoid making the already bad impression she had of him even worse.
Then, noticing that Haru —though no longer trembling— was keeping a cautious three or four meters between them, ignoring the usual guest-host dynamic, he realized she was still uneasy. Maybe even scared.
In that state, inviting her inside would be a terrible idea.
So instead, he offered another alternative:
''Haru, I know the polite thing would be to invite you in, since you came from so far away to see me, but my house is a total mess, and I'd rather no one sees it like this, at least not until I clean it up. Besides, it's not really appropriate for a man and a woman to be alone together in the same place. People might gossip. So, how about we talk while we walk? I want to run a few errands along the way.''
Dylan found the time she took to answer, and even more so the way she phrased it, somewhat strange. However, determined not to pay it too much mind —convinced he would never be able to understand her logic— he nodded and gestured with his hand before taking the lead, guiding her down a street opposite the sun so it wouldn't hit them in the face.
And so, they began walking through the neighborhood in complete silence. Dylan, being at least twenty centimeters taller than Haru, adjusted his pace to match hers. Haru, meanwhile, watched her surroundings with genuine curiosity.
They were surrounded by the usual suburban scene he was more than accustomed to. But for her, all of it was new. She had always lived in the upper part of the city, in a house so large it could well be called a mansion.
Everything fascinated her: the morning bustle of people who, without the luxury of long-term plans, had to get up at dawn for work or school; the tall trees spilling over walls, shading the street with their fresh green canopy; the soft, tempting smell of freshly baked bread drifting in the air.
None of it was part of her usual world.
But what really caught her attention weren't the sights or the people — it was the little animals darting across the walls, trees, and rooftops. When he saw her stop, Dylan followed her gaze, and understanding what had caught her eye, broke the silence:
"Hm. So you like cats, Haru?"
"Yes…"
She answered without thinking, but soon shook her head, speeding up to stand beside him. Her fear had been eclipsed by carelessness, and she quickly rephrased her answer:
'''Well, actually, no. I was just surprised to see so many of them out there, roaming free. I wonder what they eat to survive or where they sleep. In fact, how do they even get down from such high places? Shouldn't we call the fire department or something?''
Her words were a mix of truths and lies. Indeed, she did like cats, but she had denied it to avoid revealing personal details about herself. Even so, her concern was genuine: in the programs she'd seen, those animals weren't exactly known for being experts at climbing down from high places.
"Don't worry. Strays know how to handle themselves. They've got their tricks."
Dylan had to fight back a laugh at the genuine innocence in her words. But his voice trembled slightly as he held it in, which gave him away. Haru pursed her lips, annoyed, while they resumed walking; with her grumbling under her breath, him struggling not to chuckle.
Up to that point, their interactions seemed to reflect a certain familiarity. But inside one of their minds, that wasn't the case at all.
Haru hated that she'd slipped up and given him a moment of control over the conversation. So, forgetting that the distance between them had closed, she took a deep breath to muster the courage to strike back:
''And you, sir, do you like cats?''
"Sure, I think they're cute. But I've only ever had bad experiences with them. Scratches hurt, you know?"
Dylan answered without looking at her, his gaze drifting inward, lost in old memories from both of his lives. Unaware, Haru kept going, her interrogation masked as casual chat.
''Bad experiences, huh? So, you don't have pets?'''
''Pets like dogs? No. They require time and money. And as you saw, my house is small. They'd feel trapped.''
Upon hearing the word "trapped," Haru's eyes lit up. She felt she was getting closer to something. Determined, she moved on to more personal topics.
"Do you live alone, sir? I mean, if you had a pet, couldn't your parents help take care of it?"
Dylan raised an eyebrow, puzzled. Being aware that she had investigated him before, that was a question she should already know the answer to.
''No, I live with a friend. We started living together recently, so I never considered having a pet. Besides, he doesn't have time to care for one either.''
"I see… So neither of you can really take care of anyone for long, huh…"
Mentally noting that, she pressed on.
''And your partner? Doesn't she live with you?''
''Me? Ha, ha… As you can see, I'm far from being a ladies' man. So, no. I've been single since high school.''
Already convinced that Haru was trying to pry something out of him, Dylan pretended to be nervous at her question, hoping his discomfort would be enough to make her stop digging into his private life. But far from stopping, his attitude seemed to encourage her even more to keep prying.
"What about at work? Did you ever think about dating a coworker?"
"I'm currently unemployed."
"I see… And what did you work in?"
"At a call center."
"Really? I know a few people who do that. Is the pay good?"
"More or less, but the stress isn't worth it."
"So you do what you do to blow off stress…"
"…What?"
"Oh, nothing, nothing. Just thinking out loud… So you quit because of the stress?"
"No..."
The back-and-forth stretched on for several more minutes. Haru didn't just stick to questions about Dylan's relationships or work; she dug into his family, his childhood, his hobbies, even his food preferences.
The sheer relentlessness of the interrogation grated on his nerves. If it had been anyone else subjecting him to this barrage, he probably would've snapped by now and stormed home.
But, unfortunately, he had to endure it. So he forced himself to keep his face as expressionless as possible, since his smile —the unconvincing one he had shown at the beginning— had long since vanished.
Haru, for her part, wasn't entirely comfortable either. Much to her frustration, despite her persistence, she hadn't managed to squeeze any incriminating information out of Dylan. To top it off, her throat already hurt from talking so much, and so did her feet, not being used to walking this much.
Finally, tired and annoyed, she dropped the polite act and delivered one last, pointed summary:
"I see… Dylan," she began, slipping into a much more informal tone, "from everything you've told me, I can assume you're a serious, hardworking person, but also boring and tired. You don't like animals or very sweet things. You used to enjoy sports when you were younger, but you got bored of them as you got older. Now you've started exercising again, but only because your doctor recommended it. Even so, you'd rather stay home than go out partying. You don't love or hate alcohol, but you don't drink alone.''
Taking a breath, she added with emphasis:
"However, you also don't enjoy interacting with other people, due to your bad memories of your old job… Does that about sum you up, or am I wrong?"
"Well, it stings a little to be called boring, but yeah. Basically, everything you said is true," Dylan replied neutrally, not bothering to deny it.
Internally, though, he was genuinely surprised. That description wouldn't have fit the man he used to be… or the one he might become someday. But it matched perfectly with who he was right now.
'As expected. No matter how strange her personality is, there's no doubt she's smart.'
"Haru, has anyone ever told you you've got the makings of a psychologist?"
"Really? Thanks," she said, flashing a wide smile.
Still, that smile quickly vanished as she stopped dead in the middle of the street, fixing him with a sharp, suspicious glare.
"But there's something off here. If that's really who you are, then I don't understand why you approached me that day at the video game store. You, who supposedly hate interacting with people, wouldn't have had any reason to do that."
She crossed her arms over her chest, spread her legs slightly, and straightened her back. Then, in a firm voice, she asked the question that had driven her here in the first place.
"Tell me the truth. Why did you do it?"
And in the face of her bold, pointed stance, Dylan lowered his gaze without saying a word.