#meaning they would've out sassed each other and just would've turned allies

[cosmic-walkers]

do you prefer the tudors or wolfhall?

wolf hall if i wanna be sad and the tudors if i wanna laugh

[tsipasce]

Same Difference Ch.16

Her back ached as she hunched over her keyboard, only moving to grab the odd paper and examine it. Straightening up for the first time in hours she glanced at the clock on the wall that read 10:45pm, realizing she'd neglected two out of three meals today. Once Overhaul had left, she decided to catch up on paperwork and hadn't gotten up since, except to go to the bathroom and grab a glass of water. On her visit to the fridge, she was unsurprised to find nothing but water and condiments. Of all the ways to be a normal bachelor, he chooses this one… she bemoaned, trying to formulate a dinner strategy while on house arrest. After a beat, she made a couple calls,confident she'd found a loophole.

An hour or so later, the smell of lemon and herbs filled the kitchen as she checked between dishes. After going through her mental list of recipes, she decided chicken picatta with a side of rice would be easiest while also sating her growing hunger. Smelling the sauce, she grabbed a spoon to gauge if the seasoning was up to snuff. Closing her eyes, she considered the flavor.

"What are you doing?"

"Aggh!" She clutched her chest, almost choking on the sauce. Catching her breath, she shot him a ghastly look before continuing, "I know this is your house and all, but could you please not use the ~hitman stealth~ walk while I'm here?"

"No. You should just be more alert. Now answer my question: what are you doing?"

"Ah, well I know by your sad fridge you may not be familiar with the concept, but this is called 'cooking'." She piped in her best kindergarten teacher voice.

"Do not start with me tonight." He looked genuinely angry as he took a step forward, "Where did you get the ingredients? I specifically asked you not to leave and yo—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Chill out, Joe Goldberg, I stayed in the box. "

"What?"

"Ugh, if you watched TV like a normal person that would have been a great joke—anyway, what I'm saying is I didn't leave."

"Elaborate."

"Well it's this show about a guy who traps a gi—"

"Dammit I mean about how you got the ingredients without leaving."

"Oh yes, well I texted Kurono to call one of the guys who then called another dude who ordered it on Mostpates who then went back through the chain of communication until it was delivered to the door by one of your subordinates—with whom I had zero contact with—and now here I am. Still very much isolated from the outside world. Happy?"

He paused, his eyes narrowed in suspicion as he towered over her. She deadpanned back until he relented, rolling his eyes and sighing; irritated with her consistent sass, but relieved Nanami was safe. Relieved a valuable ally was uncompromised, he sternly corrected as though to convince himself. Try as he may, the frequency of his little "unprofessional slips" when it came to her kept increasing. He reasoned that introducing her to Pop—the Boss, was simply strategic and necessary as she became more involved in their organization. These faux pas where he'd praise her behind her back to the Boss during their weekly dinners or lapse into these fantasies, he wouldn't dare speak aloud were merely obstacles he'd need to overcome. At some point. She's just an ally. He lied to himself yet again, before addressing her, "Don't do that without informing me first next time."

"Yes s— I mean, you bet." She said nervously clearing her throat before turning back to the stove. She would've continued indulging in her favorite pastime of getting on his nerves, but decided not to after getting a good look at him in the light. He looked tired and her sympathy won out over her need to continue poking the bear. Deciding it would be more sensible to make nice with her new roommate, she took a chance. "You know, I made a lot more than I was expecting if you wan—"

"I don't need anything from you," he reflexively shot back.

"Fine. Suit yourself." she shrugged turning back to the stove. One step forward, fifteen steps back. What do I even expect?

*grooowwwlll*

Her head slowly swiveled to him; her brows raised. She took the sauce off the heat, drizzling the aromatic cream over the steaming rice and herb-crusted chicken. She confidently maintained eye contact for dramatic effect, though she was quite surprised she didn't spill anything. A staring contest ensued, though they both knew the winner was the one who already possessed the literal chicken dinner. "Care to rethink your answer?"

"… If I get food poisoning it'll be your end." He acquiesced.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Let's just hurry before it gets cold."

They sat down at the table across from each other, setting their places. Forgetting to get utensils, Nanami got back up and headed to the kitchen to retrieve them. "You can start without me, I forgot something," she said with her back turned as she found the drawer she was looking for. Looking at the pans, she decided it would be much less of a pain to put them in the sink now instead of after her self-induced food coma. As she reached for the pan, she heard a faint rustling and a hushed "Thanks for the food" coming from the table. She went wide-eyed for a split second at the realization, Well, guess you can't eat through a mask… gulping at the thought of finally seeing his face, she shooed the feelings away as mere curiosity, to no avail. Suddenly it felt too nerve-wracking to turn around as she continued to overthink, her utensils having been found long ago.

"If you leave your plate out any longer, I'm going to throw it away."

"What? That makes zero sen—" she turned to reflexively bicker but stopped short. After seeing someone masked for so long it felt strangely intimate to see his face. He was still facing forward, calmly devouring the meal as she studied his profile, his features catching the warm light above the dining table. Nanami hadn't known what she'd expected to see, but it wasn't this. It might have been less surprising if he had some maniacal countenance or monstrous face, but he just looked… Normal… Normal…and really fucking cute. Shit. Her conflicted look of disgust with herself and fascination with him was promptly misinterpreted as he turned to see why she'd stopped grimaced back at her as she continued her appraisal, finding his full expressions, instead of just eyes, to still be a jarring sight.

"Do you have something to say?"

"N-No, just getting some eating sticks! I mean utensils. Eating. Utensils." She cleared her throat, exuding awkwardness.

"…Right."

Exhaling, she hurriedly made her way back to the table, trying to carry on normally. She began eating, her hunger taking her mind off the previous blunder. Looking up to grab the pitcher of water to refill her glass, she inadvertently caught his gaze. Certain this would be a rare occurrence, she decided if she wanted to gawk, it would have to be now. Today she'd gotten a face and a name, and suddenly he seemed a lot more… human.

"You have a staring problem, and I'm going to fix it in a very unpleasant way if you don't stop."

Nevermind. "Says the guy that's blinked all of 3 times in the past 4 months." She scoffed," I don't have a 'staring problem,' I was just… surprised to see your face is all."

He paused before continuing eating, but she could tell he was still thinking, "… what's surprising about it?"

Now able to fully evaluate his expressions, Nanami could tell he was a mixture of indignant, but curious. I can work with that. "Hm? Oh nothing, nothing at all… Except…" she leaned forward across the table, her eyes heavy-lidded as they travelled from his eyes to his mouth, committing the pleasant features to memory.

He was focused now. "Except?" the word came out softer than intended, as she was close enough for him to catch the scent of lavender, the t-shirt she wore forming an almost dangerously revealing dip as she leaned forward. His jaw clenched as he fought to maintain eye contact, trying not to blatantly appreciate her suggestive positioning. The walls of the room felt as though they were shifting closer together as he waited with bated breath for her answer, or action.

"Except…You have rice on it," she tapped on her own face to show him where, grinning at his look of exasperation as she plopped back down to finish her last bite of food, missing how he briefly deflated. "So, how was it?"

"I don't feel any early signs of food poisoning," he began "but we'll see how the rest of the night goes."

Now feeling the sleepiness beginning to take over, she was too tired to give a quality retort. Sighing, she got up, grabbing her dish as she made her way back to the kitchen to clean up, the day finally catching up to her. She placed her dish in the sink and began searching for the gloves to start washing. Before she could locate them, she heard footsteps behind her.

"Move."

"Really? I share my food and then you insult it—surprise, surprise—and now I can't even clean up in peace" She began, but stopped as she turned to see him, his hands already clad in the yellow latex. His face was expressionless as he moved in her place and began tidying up. Taking it as her cue to leave, she dragged herself to her room to get ready for bed before he called back to her.

"Thank you for the food. It wasn't bad at all." He said, his back still turned as he continued cleaning.

She stopped, a half-smile appearing on her face as she could see he was trying to make nice, though he was obviously still not used to it, "…You're welcome. Hey, Overhaul?"

"Yes?"

"You should get some rest."

"Don't need it. Per our conversation earlier, I have unlimited stamina."

"Sure, but you can't overhaul your mind, now can you?"

"Ok, Dr. Phil." He mocked and her eyes shot wide. Before she could respond he continued, "And no, I will not answer further questions about that reference or how I know it. Goodnight."

Stifling a laugh, she turned to walk back to her room, "Goodnight."

The next week went by without incident and they began to form a routine. At 5:30 they'd get up to get ready for their jog. Nanami could tell she was on schedule by the sound of footsteps and water running next door that mirrored her own. Once finished, they'd convene in the front room, put on their shoes and head outside to stretch. Very few words if any were spoken, but Nanami enjoyed the comfortable silence. At work it was always expected that she'd be overtly personable and chatty, but she knew he had no such expectations. She could zone out and just exist and that was alrigh—

"Ahem", he cleared his throat as he waited expectantly for her to start their morning run. His hands bare for the first time in ages as one of his subordinates ordered the wrong brand, and he swore he'd break into hives if he used them. Both of them were sure they wouldn't need to touch any public surfaces on their run so the rarity of the occasion was dismissed.

"Oops, coming."

Without another word they began, Nanami putting her headphones in. After their third run, he was satisfied that he could handle an ambush as they gathered more intel about the Okamura, and she could indulge in her music while they ran. One of her favorite songs came on and she began stepping to the rhythm as her shoulders started to roll and her head bobbed to the beat, soon after she began mouthing the words.

"Every time I comb my hair

Thoughts of you get in my eyes

You're a sinner, I don't care

I just want your creamy thighs"

All the while she didn't realize her erratic movements and lip-syncing had caught Overhaul's attention as he watched from the corner of his eye. A few months ago, he wouldn't have been able to stomach the thought of sharing his home and free time with someone else without breaking out in hives, but now it felt… comfortable. It was comforting to come home to someone, to work with them and not be annoyed to the point of homicide (for him it was more rare than most), it was comforting knowing that someone was her.

She looked so carefree, so happy in the midst of everything while he felt the weight of the world had made permanent indentions on his shoulders. She didn't fit in this world; she didn't belong here. Or to anyone. The thought crossing his mind bitterly as his inner monologue took a familiar, pessimistic turn. Just looking at her brought that sickening warmth to his chest he coveted but didn't recognize as something he was capable of… that is until a couple of months ago. Now he found it showing up more and more, clouding his judgment. It was distracting. He had an objective and she was an important variable in achieving said objective—nothing more. How dare she make him... feel or even question if he was able to. It was disgusting.

Now able to recognize the feeling of being silently judged by him, Nanami looked up to meet his gaze. "Weren't you just lecturing me the other day about having a 'staring problem'?"

"I'm not staring, I'm just wondering why you're carrying on like this in public."

"Pssh, enjoying music—the great music of the illustrious Prince, nonetheless—is totally grounds for 'carrying on in public.' Being carefree every now and again isn't a sin, you know."

"There are enough frivolous people in the world. Why should I have to indulge them?"

"You call it frivolous; I call it taking happy moments when they come. You should just let people enjoy things and stop being such a stick in the mud. You never know, maybe you'll do something ~*wild*~ like enjoy yourself for once."

"Not all of us have the luxury of being empty-headed and self-indulgent."

At this she stopped running, the words sounding more like a personal attack than broad commentary. "What, so I'm a careless idiot just because I don't brood about my self-induced problems all the time?"

Their similarities began to surface as he took her comment in like fashion, both of them now offended at scenarios they'd created in their own heads. "'Self-induced'? You know nothing about my perceived 'problems' or how they came about. Nothing." His irritation quickly morphed into anger the more he thought about the implication that he'd chosen this life.

"And you don't know anything about my problems either. Just because I choose to be happy every blue moon and my issues usually don't involve me snuffing people out on the regular doesn't mean they aren't also really shitty."

"Oh, so you accidently blow up one kid and now it's a trauma you get to use as a crutch?"

Upon saying this, her posture straightened, and she looked at him evenly, a cold rage emanating from her. "So, you think that's all there is to me? I'm just some spoiled brat who's always had her way and now that I'm exposed to your big, scary reality, my little traumas don't compare? My tender little world is being shattered by the brutality and violence of your 'real' one? If anything is self-indulgent it's your narcissistic assumption that you're sob story is somehow worse than everyone else's" she said, venom dripping from her words.

He hadn't seen her like this before. They say when telling a person's age, that wrinkles and proportions are the best tells. In truth, there's a certain "look" that begins to form over time, one's experiences flash behind their eyes, an amalgamation of memories; they've seen things, their innocence eroding with every visage adding years to even the most verdant skin. As Nanami spoke, he saw an age in her eyes that didn't match her face. There was a certainty in her gaze that only came from seeing the grotesque with one's own eyes and deciding to keep looking. Her words were telling, but her stare was what filled the pages of the novel being written between them. Ever obsessed with purity, he assumed he'd be repulsed by the revelation, but it only made her seem closer. Her presumed naivety that he thought separated them was being chipped away. He wanted to know more, to become closer.

He was entranced as she seemingly riled herself up, "I've been through more than you could ev—" She stopped short, shaking her head as she bit her lip, looking off into the distance at something only she could see.

"What do you mean?" He coaxed her to finish her thought, now hopeful.

"No. I think I've told you enough. You've made your judgment and I'll have to live with the fact that I made a mistake, as will you."

"What? This conversation isn't ov—"

"You don't get to decide that," she snapped. "I'm heading back, and I suggest you take the long way around."

A grave look came across his face at being commanded, "That's not how this works, and you will not cut me off again, or I'll-"

"Or you'll what?" She was back in his face, a familiar defiance in her eyes. If she was poking the bear before, this was an entire stabbing.

"You don't want this." He warned.

"You have no idea what I want."

As things boiled over, they were much too close, a static in the air building between them, fingers pointed as they continued to argue. They were ultimately too close, for no more than a millisecond, but that small error was all it took for the reaction that followed. In that brief moment, they made contact, a blast followed that sent them both flying in opposite directions. Nanami hit one of the walls that lined the streets with a sickening thud. She slumped, unconscious, a stream of red dying her silver hair.