Work Text:
The sun hung low in the sky, bathing West City in a warm, golden glow. The bustling metropolis was far too noisy and crowded for C17’s taste, but the park on its outskirts provided a rare pocket of peace and quiet. It wasn’t as serene as the sanctuary of his new base of operations, but it was a welcome reprieve from the relentless press of humanity in one of the planet’s busiest cities.
Standing on a small wooden pier, C17 gazed out over the treetops, their leaves shimmering in the soft evening light. This was the spot he had chosen to meet Ruri for their day together. In typical fashion, he had picked a quiet, out-of-the-way location—an obscure café tucked along the edge of the park which itself was on the edge of the city. Usually deserted at this time of day, this café offered the solitude he preferred, a perfect counterbalance to the chaos of the city beyond. And he heard it was pretty good too.
He waited quietly, hands tucked into his pockets, eyes scanning the horizon. And then, with the flicker of a smile he’d never show anyone else, he saw her approaching, a burst of color and energy against the muted greens and browns of the trees.
“17! Look, I’m not late this time,” Ruri greeted him with a beaming smile, a little breathless from her brisk pace. She wore her usual lively colors—a floral scarf with bright hues against her sweater, and a green jacket dusted with a few burrs from her work on the field. She came right up to him, stood up on tiptoes, and pressed a quick, affectionate kiss to his cheek, making his skin show a hint of a blush.
“No, you're actually right on time, for once,” 17’s face softened as he met her gaze that threatened retaliation for his snide remark, though he quickly redirected it toward the little café behind them. He nodded to the modest building, feeling oddly self-conscious. “I thought you might like this place. They do organic everything. Coffee, snacks, cakes…”
Ruri’s eyes sparkled with curiosity as she looked at the café. “An organic snack bar all the way out here? I had no idea!” she said excitedly, taking his hand without hesitation. “Did you pick this place just for me?— Wait, how did you even know about this place? Out with it, Cyborg!”
“Maybe,” 17 said with a shy half-smile, not answering her question.
He followed her inside, where the cozy café enveloped them in the rich scent of coffee, tea, herbs, and most importantly fresh bread. It was warmly lit, with walls made from reclaimed wood, shelves lined with all sorts of wildflowers, and only a handful of tables, most of them empty. It wasn’t the right season for regulars, let alone park visitors, so business was slow. All according to plan.
‘Perfect.’
17 was content to share a quiet space with just Ruri and her endless enthusiasm for everything around her. At least she wouldn’t attract everyone’s attention with her loud antics, so he could exercise more patience. He was particularly happy about having overheard about this place in passing, registering the information, and now he had put it to good use.
They took a seat by the window, where sunlight spilled onto their small table, and where 17 could keep an eye out, just in case. On the other hand, Ruri’s eyes sparkled as she looked around this new place, taking in every little detail, from the beeswax candles on the tables to the vintage coffee grinder, to the warmth heat irradiating from the furnace for baked goods that spread into the shop and contrasted with the chill wind outside.
17 didn’t really care, but he did have to admit the place was quite on the cozy side. His thoughts were interrupted when Ruri’s hand reached across the table, her fingers lacing with his. Over the few months they had begun spending more time together, he had learnt to not resist such gestures, as Ruri would not hesitate to taunt, tease and make a scene out of it. Eventually, little by little she had worn him down enough, and he just realized not only he wasn’t fighting her, he had actually learnt to appreciate that kind of gesture. And what’s next, seeking those affections?! No, he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. His fingers squeezed hers regardless.
“I think this is the first date we’ve had that isn’t interrupted by any work incidents,” she joked.
“Don’t jinx it,” 17’s mouth tugged upward at the corners.
Their drinks arrived, simple and rustic, and as they sipped, Ruri’s eyes lit up.
“This coffee,” she began, her voice a whisper as if sharing a secret, “is made with Robusta beans, roasted by this local new start-up with that special low heat-technique. I can tell. The flavor is... I’ve read so much about this!”
Her mind in full swing, Ruri began to excitedly analyze every note of flavor in her coffee, the nuances she detected, and the probable origin of each bean used in the roast. She could sense 17 watching her with a small, amused smile on his face, but she couldn’t help it— she had to know and tell how things worked, and tasting the coffee in this setting was too perfect.
17 missed half of the explanations, not because he did not care, but because Ruri’s leaps from A to D still eluded him at times and he just did not have that sort of knowledge. He would get it in time, he knew it, in the meantime her love for such things was enough for him to appreciate her endless rambles.
The pastries she ordered (with 17’s quiet blessings) were also subject to the same treatment.
“Hey, are you even listening?”
“No, not at all,” 17 dead-panned, and Ruri tapped his hand as a protest with that adorable squished nose.
“I said I just heard about something from my intern. Seems there’s this urban legend— an ice cream truck called ‘Amorino’ that’s supposed to have the best ice cream in the entire world! They say you can only find it by chance, and that couples finding it together and tasting a flavor means something… Isn’t that fascinating?” She turned to him, her voice bubbling with excitement. “How does that even work? Do you think they have cameras observing every couple? Cognitive biases?!”
17 tilted his head, both amused and mildly curious. “An elusive ice cream truck in the middle of nowhere, and it just knows your flavor? Sounds like it would need to be psychic.”
“Or really, really lucky,” she replied with a wink. She leaned in, her voice dipping into a conspiratorial whisper. “Apparently, if the vendor does not let you choose for yourself and finds your perfect flavor when you show up as a couple, you’re destined for love.”
17 chuckled softly, skeptical but entertained. “You mean if we find this truck, it’s supposed to tell us if we’re ‘meant to be’ by feeding us sugar?” He raised a single eyebrow, a playful glint in his usually stoic eyes.
Ruri smirked, meeting his gaze. “Don’t worry, Mr. Stern-and-Serious! I don’t need ice cream to tell me how I feel.”
Still, her curiosity was clearly piqued, and she looked around as if the ice cream truck might materialize on cue.
They finished their drinks and snacks, and after putting on back their coats and scarves, they began to wander back down the path towards the park, lightly discussing and laughing at the idea of a ‘destiny-driven’ ice cream truck and how, according to legend, some people spent years searching for it.
After a quick glance left and right, 17 wrapped an arm around Ruri’s waist to jump over the fence and continue their walk in the wilderness of the closed park. It was quieter, darker, and much less prone to seeing other people— as 17 did not want to become a public spectacle with Ruri’s bombastic personality. Not that he was ashamed of her, but he liked his privacy.
Ruri giggled and accepted the playfulness of it all, the park all for themselves? Perfect. Her smile was bright, though it softened as they walked, sensing the tranquility of the moment he had created.
“Nice spot,” she said, her voice warm but quiet enough to respect the peaceful surroundings. “I can see why you like it here.”
17 had a slight barely noticeable shrug, but there was a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes that Ruri did not miss. “Thought you might like it. Sometimes simple is best.”
“Are you calling me simple?” Ruri had to tease and nudge him.
“Humans...” he sighed.
Ruri ended up dropping the fake offense and went on to ramble about the urban myth of Amorino, throwing in little facts about how folklore often sprang from nuggets of truth, when suddenly, she stopped in her tracks.
There, parked just off the main path, with an old-fashioned striped awning and a hand-painted sign, was a little white vehicle. In park currently closed to the public. The word “Amorino” was elegantly stenciled on its side. Its windows glinted in the few city lights that had begun flickering as the sun set, and a faint melody, like the distant chime of an old music box, drifted toward them.
Ruri’s mouth dropped open, and she turned to 17, who was watching her with that rare, slightly bemused expression that always softened his usual intensity.
“It’s real,” she whispered, then grabbed his hand, pulling him over to the truck. As they approached, the elderly vendor gave them a knowing smile, as if he had been waiting for them. “OH MY GOD! It’s real!!”
“Welcome to Amorino,” the man said, his voice warm and kind, his eyes twinkling as he looked from Ruri to 17. “Today, I have just the flavors you need.”
Ruri’s heart raced with excitement. She glanced at 17, who, while skeptical, looked willing to indulge her curiosity.
“Mhhh how about I choose for the two of you this once?” the vendor said, locking eyes with 17. After a moment’s pause, 17 nodded, driven and overwhelmed by Ruri’s enthusiasm.
The man turned to Ruri, as if sizing her up. “For the lady,” he handed her a delicate, flower-shaped scoop of wild blackberry and lavender. She took it with a gasp, enchanted by the color—a deep purple swirled with flecks of violet.
“For the gentleman,” the man said, turning to 17. He handed him a cone with a single, elegant scoop of pine honey and elderflower—a flavor Ruri would have never guessed, but somehow felt it suited him perfectly.
They exchanged a look before taking a taste. Ruri’s eyes closed as she savored the rich, floral sweetness of the lavender blending with the tartness of the blackberries. The flavor was so perfect, so balanced, that she felt a spark of wonder. She looked at 17 to find he was having a reaction, his eyes slightly widened. Not many people would notice it, but she knew how to read the Cyborg, especially when he was far from the kind of man who enjoyed sugary treats. He looked as if he was surprised by the subtle complexity of the pine honey and elderflower.
“This…” Ruri started, the taste lingering on her tongue, “this is… incredible. It’s like… a memory. Something from before I can even remember.” She laughed, her eyes shining, tearing up even. “It’s… weirdly perfect.”
17 nodded slowly, taking another contemplative bite, feeling the intricate blend of flavors settle into something familiar and grounding. He looked at Ruri, a small smile breaking his usual cold-like demeanor.
“Okay,” he conceded, “maybe there’s something to this Amorino thing after all.”
Ruri’s heart swelled, and she wrapped her arms around him, surprising him with a sudden, tight hug. “See?” she whispered. “This is a memory we’ll keep forever.” She pulled back, her eyes sparkling. “Maybe there’s a little magic in the world after all.”
The vendor watched them with a fond smile, his knowing gaze gentle and approving. As Ruri and 17 walked away, savoring the last of their ice cream, she looked over her shoulder, wanting to wave goodbye to the man. But when she looked back, the truck was already gone, as if it had never been there at all.
17 noticed her look of surprise and chuckled, his hand finding hers. “So, you think we’ll find it again?” he asked, his tone half-serious, half-playful.
Ruri smiled, feeling the warmth of his hand in hers. “Who knows? Maybe it’ll find us when we need it. But you know what? I think this is proof enough,” she gestured between them, “that we’re meant to be. Empirical evidence, no doubt about it!”
They found a fallen log to sit on, enjoying the quiet and their strange, perfectly mismatched flavors. 17 looked over at her as she admired the trees, the birds, the sunlight filtering through the leaves, the wonderful colors of the sky shining through her sparkling eyes and her chestnut hair.
“You know,” she said thoughtfully, glancing sideways at him. “I think I might have found my favorite flavor.”
“Yeah?” he asked, feeling her warmth through their intertwined fingers.
“Yep,” she replied, nudging his shoulder playfully. “It’s you.”
For the first time, 17 broke into a full smile, one he didn’t even try to hide and soon their laughter mingled with the rustling of the trees, bound by the quiet magic of a perfect day and the simple certainty of each other.