As we took the streetcar to the Guild headquarters, I could tell something was bothering Char, but I could also tell she didn’t want to talk about it. So instead of pressing it, I read a woman’s newspaper over her shoulder.

After a bit, Char asked, “Anything interesting?”

“Huh?” I said, turning to her.

She nodded her head toward the woman’s paper.

“Oh,” I said. “Not really. Just the usual.”

Char frowned slightly.

“I never knew you to pay much attention except to anything not right in front of you, so I’m a bit curious about what you mean when you say, the usual.”

I grinned and said, “I read the news,” before pausing and adding, “from time to time. When I have a break.”

Char tapped her chin and said, “If I remember correctly, an old man once told me that the only break Hunters get is when they retire or die. And you’re not retired yet, are you?”

I laughed softly and shook my head.

“What a wise man,” I said, “but fair enough.” I glanced back at the paper and read the headline to Char. “‘General Malissey Testifies Against Congressional Plans for Pacifist Constitution.’” I turned to her and shrugged, “The usual.”

“They might actually do it, though,” Char said. “You’d know that if you read the news past the headlines.”

I waved my hand dismissively and said, “Nah, you’re too young to remember, but they’ve been trying this since before the Last War.”

Char didn’t say anything, she just stared my face for a bit.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing,” she said, “just that you’re not as old as you think you are.”

I groaned. “Next you’re going to be asking me for war stories again.”

Char clicked her tongue in disapproval and said, “I was twenty-five, excuse me for being curious. I care about you much less now.” Again, if it were anyone else, I could have sworn that I saw Char blush, but it must have just been a trick of the light.

“Besides,” she said, and that thing that looked like a blush but couldn’t have been was gone, “you never wanted to tell me anything. You just got a faraway look in your eyes and said—”

“War is for the old, not the young. You’re better off not knowing,” I said, trying to affect my voice with a wise tone.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Char rolled her eyes.

“You used that as an excuse to never say anything.”

I looked out the window as the city rolled by. The streetcar was packed like sardines, but people gave me and Char a relatively wide berth. Sometimes it helped that people were afraid of you.

“You can’t get too mad at me,” I said, a sad smile spreading on my lips. “War sucks.”

Char rolled her eyes again and said, “How radical of you.”

I ignored her and said, “Plus, you never told me you were married.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her flinch, but I just kept looking out the window.

“How’d you know that?” she said, her voice strained but level.

I turned to her and tapped my forehead.

“I’m one of those psychics.” Then I met her eyes and saw the embers of fury in her gaze. I gulped and said, “Sorry, I didn’t mean any offense.”

The anger quickly drained from her expression and was replaced with an empty sadness.

“It’s fine, sorry.” She rubbed her empty ring finger. “How’d you know?”

I gestured to what she was doing.

“That. Hallmark of someone who is used to wearing a ring. You’ve also got a slight tan line there. A lot of Hunters who take leave to get married come back like that, with that habit, since we’re not allowed to wear jewelry on the job.”

“They changed that rule five years ago,” she said, shaking her head.

“Oh,” I said.

“I’d wear a ring if I was still married,” she said.

“Oh,” I said.

Sometimes I’m a dumbass.

We stood in silence for a while, the streetcar and people in it swallowing us in their noise. The gentle rocking of the car going over the tracks was calming, like being at sea after a storm had passed.

After what seemed like an eternity, I cleared my throat and said, “I ever tell you about how Colonel Bridges asked me to marry her?”

Char’s eyes went wide. Colonel Bridges was both of our bosses and one of the highest-ranking Hunters in the Capital. She was a bit older than me, only by a few years, but she’d been out of the field for almost two decades. Char had only known her as a terrifying figure of the Guild upper ranks, but I’d known her when she was a proper Hunter, doing fieldwork.

“You can’t be serious,” Char said in disbelief.

“I am!” I hissed, keeping my voice low. Char leaned in close to hear me. One couldn’t be too paranoid when gossiping about the Colonel. “She was really frank about it. Said something like, ‘Jonas, people look strangely on a man who isn’t married by thirty. Marry me and the higher-ups will think you’re a family man. You’ll get time off to take care of any children we produce. You might get promoted for once.’”

“And what did you say?”

“I said no, obviously.”

“What?!” Char hissed. I could tell she was hanging onto my every word. People think a lot of things about us Hunters: that we aren’t human, that we’re relics of a more dangerous time, and those things may be true, but it’s also true that we're just like you, because damn do we love work gossip. At least, I did, and so did Char. Maybe that’s why we got along so well.

“Well, let me tell you, it wasn’t easy,” I said. “She had me in a rather, uh, compromising position.”

I could see the gears turning in Char’s head. Her eyes widened in recognition.

“You?” she stammered. “Her? With…with you? You and her?”

I hushed her with one hand and glanced around the streetcar. No one was looking our way.

“It was more her and me,” I muttered. Char started to say something, but I hushed her.

“You can’t tell a soul,” I said. She nodded solemnly. We shook hands and gossiped about our coworkers for the rest of the ride