Crow Asterson

Crow stood relaxed, feeling the chill at the back of his neck as the evening breeze crept.

Meanwhile, his guest's posture was tense, like that of a wild animal, unsure whether to trust the warmth extended toward her.

He glanced at her.

[Inner Crow]: That hair… That face… No way.

Her eyes snapped to his.

“What?” she asked, her voice low and sharp.

[Inner Crow]: Okay. Definitely her. And definitely scary.

However, his attention turned somewhere else.

Mud streaked along the legs of her pants. And a tear on her sleeve. Dried blood streaked from a scrape on her knuckle. Dust clung to the tips of her hair.

He sighed, then cleared his throat. “You can stay here for a while... if you want. I don’t mind. Looked like it got rough out there.”

Hinata’s eyes narrowed.

She had always been fine on her own, shunning any form of charity. But right now, that thought left a weight in her gut that she didn’t want to acknowledge.

Crow sensed her apprehension. “I’m not trying to push you. Just… think about it, alright?”

Hinata’s pride flared. A step back, her jaw clenched, not wanting to owe anyone.

“I have to go.”

Crow furrowed his brow. His lips quivered in hesitation, but the words slipped out anyway.

“Go where? You could end up in more trouble out there. At least here... you can breathe for a bit.”

Hinata paused, her fingers twitching. His words hit harder than she expected.

“Anywhere,” she told herself. But it felt empty, and loneliness crept in at the edges.

“It’s better if I keep moving,” she said, as if trying to convince herself instead of him. "I'm not a child."

Crow rubbed his chin. He knew that practical negotiation was the weakest bullet in his arsenal.

"Uh... Okay, how about this: I pulled you out of that mess, right? So, in return, stay for the night. There, one-to-one. Deal?" he said hesitantly.

Hinata blinked, scoffing internally.

"How was that even a deal?"

But there's something in his stupid but earnest stubbornness that caught her off guard. Without noticing it, she warmed up to him a little.

"Why are you doing this? You don’t know me," she confronted him bluntly.

Crow paused, wanting something clever. His shoulders shrugged, almost sheepish.

"Maybe I’ve got a soft spot for strays with a resting death-face?" he said, half-joking, half-sincere.

He followed it with a weak smirk. One second. Two.

Hinata blinked once. She said nothing, but her stare said everything.

Crow winced. His smirk faltered.

"...Not the right words. Sorry." He stepped back, his hands raised. "I just thought you looked like you needed a break. That’s all."

Hinata stared at the ground for a moment. It wasn’t desperation pressing at her ribs this time—it was something quieter, almost like relief. She clicked her tongue.

“It’s just a place to sleep,” she reminded herself, “nothing more.”

Hinata looked at him. "Fine," she said, her voice still prickly, but there's a hint of softness now. "I’ll stay for tonight, but don’t get any ideas. Or I’ll break your fingers one by one."

"Definitely. You can have my couch, but not all of it. I still need my space."

Hinata exhaled. "...resting death-face," she thought dryly.

"If I were you, I wouldn’t be too comfortable," she warned, hiding the small sense of relief in her chest.

"I won't. If you stab me in my sleep, just hug me and I’ll die in peace." Crow answered, just the right amount of goofy and charming.

Hinata furrowed her brows slightly in disbelief. “What’s with this guy?”

They walked towards the steps leading up to his apartment.

"Watch your step. The floor’s uneven," he said, his tone matter-of-fact but not condescending.

Hinata's irritation simmered beneath the surface. "I’m not some helpless kid," she grumbled. "He keeps talking. Annoying."

"Don't trip." Crow quipped further. "Because I'll laugh inside, then pretend I didn’t see it."

Hinata’s eyes rolled with a sigh. His dorkiness started to chip at her defenses.

"We’re almost there," Crow chattered. "Just a couple more steps. And before you complain, the stairs are creaky."

Hinata’s eyelid twitched. Being babied was not on her to-do list.

Finally, they reached the door. Crow fumbled for his keys, patting his pockets.

"Uh... give me a second," he mumbled, a small laugh escaping with his embarrassment.

Hinata stood upright, watching him. "You’re always like this?"

Crow hummed, fishing out the keys from a handful of coins.

"Only in life-or-death situations," Crow said, cheeks flushed. His keys clattered to the floor. "Yep. You’re welcome, floor." He bent down to pick them up, murmuring, "I’m trying to look cool here, you know?"

Another scoff slipped out of Hinata before she could stop it. The absurdity of it all felt oddly natural.

— • —

Crow finally unlocked the door and gestured for her to enter. "Welcome to your BNB," he said with a mockingly grand gesture.

Hinata’s brow pinched together. She stepped, her eyes scanning the cluttered but cozy space. Somehow, despite its mess, it felt inviting. And... safe.

"Feel free to relax. Just... try not to wreck anything."

Before Hinata could wind down, Crow suddenly darted toward the fridge. Hinata jerked back like a scared cat, her muscles tensing like a coiled spring.

“What the—?!” she snapped, hands instinctively curling into fists.

Crow turned around sheepishly. "Sorry! Just checking the fridge, I swear."

Hinata’s posture relaxed slightly. “You need to stop moving like that. You look like an idiot.”

“Noted.” Crow chuckled. “Uh, I’ll go grab something to eat. I’ll lock the door so you’re safe.”

Hinata crossed her arms, her expression that of cautious resignation. "Not like I have anywhere else to go."

Crow flashed an encouraging smile. "I’ll be back soon. Try not to break my couch while I’m gone." And with that, he slipped out the door, leaving her in the stillness of the apartment.

Hinata glanced around, not moving from her spot. “Looks fine. But if this person does anything funny—”

Suddenly, a couch, big enough to be a bed. Its chocolate brown slipcover added to its irresistible charm.

She eyed it suspiciously before sinking into it. She wiggled about, trying to find that comfortable spot.

"This feels weird," she thought, testing the cushion like it might swallow her whole. “People actually enjoy this?

She leaned back and stared at the ceiling fan, wobbling slightly as it turned.

"It's not that great. What's so special about this, anyway?"

The couch. The unexpected silence—the lack of urgency. It made her want to bolt… until she didn’t.

— • —

Crow didn’t take long. Leaving his shoes by the shoe rack, he stepped in, bags of groceries in hand.

The next scene caught him off guard.

The wildcat was sprawled out on the couch, her face free of its usual scowl, her breathing steady and calm. Slightly snoring.

Crow tittered inside.

[Inner Crow]: Look at that. Told you, that couch is emotionally intelligent.

He shook his head, letting her peace be.

He tiptoed into the kitchen with his groceries, deliberately softening his movements to avoid waking her.

[Inner Crow]: This is bad. She's... cute. I'm so screwed.

He looked at her one more time, quietly amazed at how someone so tough could look so vulnerable—and so human.

He kept unpacking his groceries, trying not to think about how the room felt warmer now.