Feather Bound

Chapter 4

With that thought in mind, he easily made his decision. He was going to drive her away, just like all the previous matches. That meant he had to plan a date that would be easy to manipulate into an unpleasant experience. He nibbled his lip, pondering possibilities until an idea struck him.

A book cafe seemed like a good choice. It would allow him to execute his plan without making it a completely dreadful experience for her. It wasn't the best place for a date; these book cafes were known for their quiet atmosphere, which meant he could avoid talking to her for the most part. Her likes and dislikes provided plenty of material to steer any conversation in the direction of convincing her that they wouldn't make a compatible couple. This tactic had worked well with most of the people he'd met during the past few months. After all, they say opposites attract, but few people wanted to be with someone who loved everything they hated.

He chuckled to himself, quickly checking his watch for the time. It had taken him less than an hour to plan this entire thing out. Smiling, he sat up and stretched his wings fully, unable to resist the temptation any longer. He groaned as the sun warmed his feathers, each one seeming to vibrate with happiness. With a contented sigh, he scooted forward in his desk chair, typing out his plans for Saturday in an email before hitting the send button. Once the sent mail swooshed, he let out a small sigh of relief. That was at least handled for now, and he could still make his afternoon patrol, saving his sidekicks from picking up his slack.

A small twinge of guilt gnawed at his stomach, though. He knew this poor woman was in for a miserable time on Saturday, and he realized his plan was going to get poor Mamoru in trouble too. Retraining was a future problem, although he would accept it without complaint. It would be tough and painful, but he could take solace in the fact that he had saved Y/N from the clutches of the Commission.

His plan was met with quick approval, though he was slightly offended by his handler's comment that he hadn't expected such a sweet idea to come from him of all people. He knew he was more than capable of planning decent dates; he just hadn't wanted to before now. Either way, it didn't matter. The stage was set, and all that remained was to wait.

Thankfully, Saturday arrived quickly, and work kept his mind and hands busy. He dressed casually, eventually deciding on a hoodie and a pair of jeans. He made his way over to the cafe to wait for her to arrive. It didn't take long. A Commission car pulled up, and he watched the driver step out to open her door for her. She stepped out, facing the driver and giving a respectful thank you before bowing. He observed with interest. She was already more polite than most of his other dates.

Taking one last deep breath, he approached her, preparing himself for what he was sure would be the usual fangirling reaction. Most of his matches did it, at least for the first few minutes. They'd stare at him, starstruck, stumble over their words, try to touch his wings, or excitedly run through a list of questions, despite all the answers being readily available on the internet.

"Y/N?" he asked, and she spun to face him. She blinked up at him, wide-eyed, before giving him a soft smile.

"It's nice to meet you, Hawks," she said, bowing at him before briskly heading toward the cafe. "Are you ready to go inside?" she asked, looking over her shoulder. He blinked at her in surprise, his head tilting. Where was the fan-like excitement? Where were the million and a half questions? She didn't even want to try to touch him?

"Oh, uh, yeah," he said, cursing himself as he stumbled over his words. Quickly, he spread his left wing, raising his arm to inspect his primary and secondary feathers before flexing and looking at the back of it. Were they not groomed well enough? He had preened just a few days ago; they looked shiny, everything seemed to be in order, nothing crooked or out of place that he could see. He had checked himself in the mirror before he left; he knew he looked good. So why did she seem so...indifferent? He bit the inside of his cheek in frustration, shaking his head to clear his thoughts and folding his wing back. Why did he even care? It didn't matter if she thought he looked good or not; he wasn't here to impress her.