The Strong and The Weak (Tokyo Ghoul :RE)

Chapter 11: Taste of Coffee

        Two weeks passed since the events of the Auction. Two weeks that Urie Kuki refused all form of contact with Katayama Yami. It wasn't the first time that she had been ignored by him, but it was frustrating all the same. He knew that there would eventually be a time in which this repetitive avoidance would be put to an end, whether it be by the Squad Mentor or Yami herself, but the boy refused to think of such a thing. Truthfully, after the embarrassing events of the Auction, he wished to never speak to the girl again. She saw a side of him that he never wanted anyone to see: his weakness. The very thought of it kept him awake most nights. A more selfish side of him loathed her, who couldn't spit a sentence out properly, for killing Big Madam.

A total of fifteen days went by until Yami had enough of this awkward silence. She didn't want to say nothing like the last time he began to ignore her:

Another day of training meant more weight added to Urie's intense lifting regimen. It had been hours since he disappeared into the training room, but that hardly mattered to him. Urie was delightedly aware that each contraction of the muscles and strain of the tendons resulted in strength. Nevertheless, groans left his mouth from those uncomfortable feelings. He hardly heard his own noises though, due to his ears being filled with Vivaldi— not his favorite composer, but the intense symphony of the Four Seasons inspiring comfort at the moment. The season that vibrated against Urie's ear drums was Winter. The notes were fast paced and the violin sounds were satisfying. It was his favorite movement of this famous symphony.

Beautiful... Urie thought passed the pain sparking in his arms, closing his eyes to imagine a chaotically snowy scene that matched Vivaldi's movement. I need to paint this... Oh, how many times that sentence had been thought... If he were left alone for another moment, a tear surely would have escaped his eye from the way Vivaldi's notes made his heart flutter. So, when an annoyingly familiar scent filled the air, he didn't know whether to be relieved or aggravated.

"Urie-ku—"

"Go away, Katayama-san." He cut the timid girl's words off before they could have enough time to escape her throat. He'd much rather be absorbed by the classical music that he loved than to endure the heavy air between him and Yami. The way she acted as though he hadn't nearly killed her at the auction was infuriating, the fact that she killed an SS-rated ghoul was aggravating, and the reminder that Shirazu did the same made him tremble with insecurity.

Moments passed filled with silence, Urie continuing on his exorcise, though Yami had yet to move an inch. With sly movements, he was able to take in her appearance from the corner of his vision. She stood in her casual clothing that consisted of black pants, a long pale-blue shirt— that could easily have been advertised as a dress— and a navy-knitted cardigan thrown over her shoulders to hide the brighter shade underneath. The skin underneath her eyes had grown consistently dark over the last two weeks, but it didn't take away from her innocent form of beauty. Her cheeks were flaming and he wondered what he said to make her blush this time. The uniquely-hued hair wasn't loose this time, something that made some part of Urie disappointed to see, and instead tied into the buns that she regularly styled the strands in. I would have been nice to see it down...

"Mm..." She hummed just at a time that the Winter movement had ended, and Urie cursed whatever higher power there was for forcing him to hear her nervous sounds. With a heavy sigh, he placed the weight that he was lifting on the rack above him before moving to a sitting position. Something inside of him knew very well that getting rid of her this time would be difficult. Perhaps appeasing her by listening to what she has to say will get her to leave... "S—Stop calling me that."

Urie was in shock, dumbfounded for an eternal second. "What?" He sounded his confusion, eyebrows scrunched and head shaking from side-to-side. It was so rare that she'd be this demanding, even if she did sputter in the beginning. "Stop calling you 'Katayama-san?'" He questioned after recounting his previous words. San... he hadn't used that honorific for a long time. His heart felt as heavy as the weight he was previously lifting when she nodded her head in confirmation. He didn't want that guilty feeling to show, so he rolled his eyes, "Tsk... that's your name, isn't it?"