Ramen

Written by Anakin McFly

they wander the twilit streets of manhattan, partner shadows trailing behind on the sidewalk. they bear twinned faces with years between them; trained bodies clad in black and shades of grey that have seen too many fights and survived too many losses.

"Want to grab dinner?"

"Yeah, I'm thinkin' I'm hungry."

they slow to a pause outside the shop, its glass windows catching the last of the sun. a lively crowd bustles within. the door opens. warmth spills out into the darkening city. a laughing trio leaves and vanishes into the night.

"Kai said the ramen here sucks."

John snorts. "What does he know?"

the bell tinkles when they enter, leaving the city's chill behind. wait staff shout automatic greetings in japanese. they find a table by the window, nestled in the back, hidden enough to be private but open enough for a view. they peruse menus with perfunctory swiftness, place orders and wait, comfortable in each others' silence as they watch the evening turn to night.

they don't get many moments of respite. nor many people who understand why they stand apart, why they can't completely feel at home, not even with the others. the others do not know how much blood is on their hands or how many lives they've casually snuffed out like the wick of a dying candle; they do not know how many final gasps for breaths they've heard and walked away from, never looking back, refusing to care, trying to forget, trying to be inhuman in order to stay human.

the others do not know.

the food arrives: two bowls of steaming ramen in rich broth, warmth filling the space between them in clouds of steam around their faces.

they eat. and for a while, everything is okay.

the bell tinkles.

footsteps, barely heard in the noise.

"I thought I'd find you here."

they look up. Ludlow glares down at them.

John drops his chopsticks, leaping from his chair and reaching for his gun until the other grabs his hand to stop him: "John, man, what are you doing? It's okay, man. I can handle this. We don't have to hurt anybody-"

John pushes his hand away. "Step aside," he says.

"Hah," Ludlow says.

"What do you want?" John asks. "If it's ramen, get your own table."

"I don't eat that exotic stuff," Ludlow says. "Plus Kai said the ramen here sucks. Where's O'Neill? I know you're hiding him."

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