"It was a mistake... it must be," 

.

.

.

.

.

.

His head was killing him.

Fuck it.

Last night was weird and abnormal– relative to his daily routine. He had gone for a walk to clear his mind, which he managed to do until he came across Feira, and the furball had lead him to the park where she was, the last thing he expected yesterday, was that he would end up drinking with a girl he know not more than for a few days– the team's manager, but a stranger nonetheless.

She had stopped after two cans, probably feeling tipsy but he had to go and drink a third one too, for which he was now paying for– with the head splitting headache.

Damn the hangover.

"Calm your expression, Captain, you look like you are going to kill someone, and that would not be appreciated in the PR debriefing," she said without looking up from her tab. He looked at the blue bottle that she had shifted toward him, narrowing his eyes in subtle suspicion before she sighed, "I wouldn't poison something I would directly give you– that would be too inconvenient, if I wanted to, I would have just asked the chef of the restaurant you all regularly go to, give them money, erase the CCTV– and that would be convenient,"

And here was the second reason for his headache.

She was back to her all, no-nonsense talk and sardonic remarks, like she was dealing with a bunch of kids rather than a world champion team.

This behavior is something that Kai generally prefers, it saves him energy to stop himself from busting the other person's head due to their stupidity, and saves his brain from working overtime to not think of the ways he could kill the person in front of him.

That was what he usually preferred.

And yet, when she had acted like this today, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance and a subtle ache in the whirring machine called heart. Disappointment. After the late night talk, and her mentioning her bey and mother, and an apology (that he very thoroughly enjoyed), he was expecting them to be...well, civil?

But no, of course not.

She was probably under the influence of alcohol last night when she was talking with him.

He grabbed the bottle from the table with a tight grip when he realized where his thoughts were going.

No.

Absolute no.

He was Kai Hiwatari, he didn't do emotions or friendships or even civil talks or... whatever the hell this was.

The alcohol was probably still in his system, or the headache was making him hallucinate thoughts.

Yes, definitely.

Because no way in hell would he feel annoyed because someone wasn't ato him.

Did she put drugs in the wine?

"Such a reassuring response," he said, rolling his eyes, before he twisted off the cap– through which the fresh smell of lemons wafted through the air, lemon water.

Well, atleast, it was something that would snap back his senses.

Hopefully.

"Ahana, would there be questions for us too?" Ray's gentle voice wrapped around them like air, and Kai could see how she looked up at him, telling him how not necessarily as this debrief was about the team future events and the question would be directed at her and Kai mainly– but if they do ask, they all can chime in their ideas while also making a off hand comment about how she would prefer if they wouldn't say something for which she would need to work overtime to calm the PR.

After the blunder Tyson had made during the last PR, a few months ago, Kai wasn't surprised she would think so.

"Oi! That was a one time thing!" Tyson yelled from his spot where he was sitting was Max, debating over which of them sang better– Kai rubbed his temple with a sigh– neither of them did, they sounded like crows croaking—no, scratch that. Even crows had a certain harmony to their noise, unlike the noise those two produced.

"Sure," Ahana didn't graced him with a response after that, dismissing the conversation entirely.

Soon, though Mr. Dickenson entered, ushering Ray, Tyson, Max and Dizzy to the backstage where they would wait and from where they would enter after Kai and Ahana, leaving them both in complete silence for a few minutes.

There were still a few minutes for the debrief to start.

Kai rolled the bottle of lemon water in his hands before taking a sip, the headache was beginning to dull now but the fog in his mind still remained, "So, last night–"

"Didn't happen,"

The words were immediate, clipped, as Ahana continued typing without so much as a pause.

His grip on the bottle tightened. "Didn't it?"

There was something about his voice, maybe the barely concealed frustration or the undertone of a statement, that made her glance up at him, something unreadable flickering in her eyes, "Do you want it to have happened?"

A challenge. A trap.

The logical part of his brain– the part that had been conditioned through years of battle and discipline– told him to drop it, told him that it was stupidity to even feel it but the other part, the one he rarely acknowledged, wanted to push.

The logical one won.

He scoffed, looking away, "Not particularly,"

"Good," her tone was as neutral as ever, "then we agree."

She turned back to her tab, scrolling and typing like nothing had happened. That shouldn't have irked him, but it did.

Why, though?

Maybe it was the way his worries dull when he is with her, maybe it was the way her eyes had softened when she had hold the kittens last night, maybe it was because when a small smile had graced her lips– his heart felt like it was melting, because it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Maybe he liked when she let go of her walls even a bit and talked like a human yesterday (even though he would never admit it to anyone, let alone himself.)

Or, maybe he was still hungover.

That sounded more probable than any of the stupid thoughts he was having.

***

The first few times, it felt strange.

Now, it was just routine.

Every evening, once training wrapped up and the team dispersed to do whatever idiotic things they did in their free time, Kai would find himself here—sitting across from Ahana, sometimes in a restaurant, sometimes the BBA office or in the rare occasions, if the training had gone till late, then the living room of her suite in Althea.--going over travel schedules, training regimens, and PR obligations for the upcoming world championship.

It had started as a necessity. A responsibility.

Now, it was just... expected.

She never asked if he would show up.
He never had to.

Somehow, between all the sharp words and pointed glares, they had settled into this rhythm. He didn't question it. He didn't want to question it. Neither did she question it.

"That schedule is impossible," he said, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed.

Ahana sighed, rubbing her temples, "It's not my fault that they can't keep the qualifications round at one state in America, so say that to them,"

"Countless PR events, a strict training regime and these many flights all in span of one month– this is suicide,"

"I thought you thrived off a challenge," she said, letting her head rest against the back of the chair looking at the ceiling, she could feel the burning glare he was sending her way, "fine, fine, we can change the timing of some flights if we don't want to reach at the entrance ceremony, which I think we should, but– you are the captain, it's your call at end,"

"Great, never knew I had any power over this by the way you were bossing around for the past week,"

His voice had a certain bite to it.

"That sounds like a 'you' problem, to be honest," she said, giving him an exaggerated sweet smile.

And yet, no matter how much time passed, no matter how many nights they spent mapping out the road to the world championship, he couldn't shake it.

The feeling.

Like he'd known her before.

Like she wasn't just the team's new manager, but someone he had already met in a life he couldn't remember.

The feeling he got the first time he saw her ocean eyes.

And, it was infuriating.

Because if he had known her, he would have remembered. Right?

Kai didn't forget. His memory was sharp, calculated, exact. And yet—he didn't know where he had seen her before, but every time she tilted her head a certain way, every time she made an offhand sarcastic remark, every time her lips twitched in amusement, something clicked.

Something old. Something buried.

And then, that unsolved puzzle piece vanished again like it had never been there.

"Stop staring," Ahana muttered without looking up from her tab.

He blinked, barely realizing he had been. "...I wasn't."

"Right," She didn't sound convinced, but she also didn't push. She just kept typing.

Kai frowned.

That was the thing. She never pushed.

Never pried.

Never questioned.

Anyone else would have either backed away from him completely or tried to dig into his mind, to demand answers, to prod at his silences and his moods.

Ahana never did.

And that even made her presence more comforting, that and the fact that her sarcasm always managed to mildly amuse him– or annoy him. And yet, the way his heart calm and brain overwork in his presence didn't sat right with him.

The deja vu, comfort, all of it.

Something about it didn't sit right.

Something about her didn't sit right.

And yet—he still showed up the next evening.

Like always.

Like it was inevitable.

Like he had always been doing it.

Like he always would.

And that, that was something that made him really question if she is indeed drugging him.

Just, who are you, Ahana?