"Spontaneity it is, then." She on occasion had rather girlish tendencies, and as they walked she let her fingers run over the brick of the buildings, her fingernails moving along the worn surfaces. She'd shut off the parts of her brain that fired pain signals when they went out - just in case - and when she caught herself bleeding she idly healed herself.
If Sweeney had ever thought to ask, she'd tell him exactly how flattered she was that he'd invited her out with him. She knew as well as anyone that taking human life was a deeply personal, deeply private thing. She liked that he shared that with her. It was more intimate than anything his prior self could have offered her. The act of taking life bound them tighter than creating one ever could have. Besides, she'd created thousands of lives in the reality she'd come from, all of them with her face and memories and abilities. The desire for a family no longer moved her. This legacy was their infant.
Her knowledge of the city was far less than his, and she trusted him to lead them in the right direction. She almost wanted to skip, almost wanted to whistle, but managed to control both impulses until they were in Whitechapel. When he looked over at her, she couldn't help but grin and take his hand for a moment, squeezing it tightly. Unable to help herself, she fixed her sights on a strapping young lad that brushed past them, obviously on his way for a night out. One moment he was walking, and the next he was struggling to stay upright, a hand clinging to his chest. It looked like he was trying to rip his own heart out.
Counting on the kindness of strangers, the boy looked up at Sweeney and Sadako for help. Sometimes, it was good to be an actress, and she shook her head, responding in Japanese. Tourists in a town like London were faceless.