Ayaka curled her fingers around the warm mug as she sat beside Akihiko at the low table in her living room.
The steam from the tea fogged her glasses slightly, and she lifted them off with a sigh, cleaning them with the hem of her oversized hoodie—the one she wore only when she was too tired to pretend she wasn't exhausted.
Akihiko barely glanced her way as she did it, but she saw the corner of his mouth twitch, amused.
"I'm allowed to be comfortable in my own house, you know." she mumbled, putting her glasses back on.
"I never said a word."
"You didn't have to. Your smirk said everything."
Akihiko let out a soft chuckle, resting his elbow on the table, knuckles brushing his temple as he watched the cursor blink in the open document. "I didn't realize wearing a hoodie was your battle stance."
"I'm fighting a war against your judgment."
"Judgment?" he echoed, tilting his head. "I like it. It suits you."
Ayaka paused mid-sip, blinking at him over the rim of her mug. "What?"
"The hoodie. You look... warm." he said, like it wasn't a big deal.
But the pause before warm made something flutter in her chest.
She looked away too quickly and set the mug down. "Right. Let's get back to work."
He didn't argue.
He just reached over and tapped a few keys, scrolling down the document to where they left off.
The soft clack of the keys and the low hum of her heater filled the quiet space between them.
Outside, rain began to tap gently against the window, a soft percussion to their rhythm.
It was a familiar scene now—him typing while she muttered lines under her breath, sometimes reaching over his hands to fix punctuation or reword something.
But tonight, it felt different.
Slower.
More aware.
"Wait." she murmured, squinting at the screen. "That line's too direct. She wouldn't say it like that."
"She would." he countered. "Because by now she's tired of pretending."
Ayaka's eyes lingered on the line:
"I didn't want anyone else to be the one you turned to first. Just me."
She didn't say anything.
She couldn't.
"You wrote that." he said, leaning back slightly, stretching one arm behind her on the couch. "So don't look at me like I'm the one being shameless."
"I wasn't—" she began, then hesitated. "I just didn't expect you to keep it."
"I liked it."
"You like a lot of things I write." she said softly.
Akihiko turned his head toward her, eyes unreadable. "Have you forgotten? You're my favorite author."
It felt like the air shifted between them.
A hush fell, even though the rain outside only grew steadier.
His arm remained stretched behind her, close enough that if she leaned back just slightly, her shoulders would brush his.
But she didn't move.
Neither did he.
"Maybe we should call it a night." she said, the words catching in her throat.
"Because of the rain?" he asked.
"Because of... this."
"This?" he repeated.
"This tension. The one that's been hovering since you asked if you were the first one I invited to go camping."
He didn't deny it. "I was serious about that."
"I know."
"Were you?"
Ayaka looked at him, eyes wide. "Of course I was. Why do you think I asked you? I wanted it to be you."
Silence.
Then, with a slow purpose, Akihiko leaned in closer—not quite touching, but close enough that the warmth of his breath skimmed her cheek. "Then stop acting like it scares you so much."
"I'm not scared."
"You're lying."
"I'm confused." she admitted in a whisper. "That's different."
His eyes searched hers, and for the first time that evening, she saw it.
The restraint.
The walls cracking.
The same uncertainty she felt, reflected in the depths of his usually unreadable gaze.
"I don't know where the line is anymore." she whispered.
"There's still a line?" he asked, voice low.
Ayaka swallowed hard. "You're the one who drew it."
"I regret it every day."
Her breath hitched.
And then, he reached up—slowly, giving her time to pull away—and gently brushed a lock of hair behind her ear.
His fingers lingered, barely touching her cheek.
"I thought I was protecting you." he said, voice almost inaudible. "But maybe I've just been protecting myself."
Her heart thundered in her chest, wild and aching.
She should look away.
Should stand up.
But instead, she whispered, "What are we doing, Akihiko?"
His hand dropped slowly, but the heat of his touch remained. "Writing a love story." he murmured, "and forgetting where fiction ends."
Ayaka's breath caught in her throat. "B-but this is a mystery novel."
Neither of them moved for a long moment.
Outside, thunder rolled faintly in the distance.
The glow from the computer screen casts a soft light on both of them, flickering like the space between truth and vulnerability.
Then, gently, Akihiko stood. "You should get some sleep." he said, backing away, his voice returning to calm.
The break in tension felt like a jolt.
"But—"
"We'll keep writing tomorrow. I'll stay in the guest room again, if that's okay."
Ayaka nodded mutely.
But as she turned away, heart was still pounding, she heard him add—
"Unless you'd rather I didn't."
She looked back over her shoulder.
"You're already here." she whispered.
------
One week later...
Ayaka stretched out on the couch, grinning from ear to ear as she closed her computer.
"Done!" she exclaimed like a victorious knight.
"I am free. Free from edits, rewrites, deadlines, and most importantly—" she pointed dramatically at Akihiko across the room, "—from your torture."
Akihiko didn't even flinch.
He leaned back in her armchair, one hand lazily spinning a pen, the other resting on his knee.
His silver hair caught the light, and he raised a brow with maddening calm.
"Is that so?" he said.
"Yes, Mr. Takahashi loved the revisions. He said it's the best version yet."
She sat up straighter, a smug smile forming. "You don't get to boss me around anymore. I'm officially off duty."
He closed his book with a soft *click*, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. "You sound confident."
"I am confident."
Akihiko stood, slowly. "Then I suppose you've forgotten about the camping trip."
Ayaka's face fell. "Ugh… right."
He tilted his head slightly. "You forgot?"
"No." she muttered, sitting up again. "I didn't forget. I just… pushed it out of my mind."
"Interesting coping strategy." he said, taking a few steps closer. "Especially since you already agreed to help carry luggage early."
"It's not just camping." Ayaka sighed. "Fujiwara's planning to propose to Yuki. He asked me and told me to spread the news to everyone to help make it special."
That got his attention. Akihiko's brows lifted, just slightly. "A proposal?"
Ayaka nodded. "Yeah. He's been quietly planning it for weeks. The trip was his idea from the start — just a cover. He wants it to be a surprise. Only Keiko and I know… well, now you too."
Akihiko crossed his arms, considering that. "So that's why they were insistent about getting everyone together."
"Exactly. He wants it to be private but not suspicious. So it's just the usual group — Yuki, Fujiwara, Keiko, Watanabe, Makoto, Takeshi, Kazumi, you, and me and Yuki and Fujiwara's parents."
He hummed, amused. "Quite the audience for a romantic gesture in the woods."
"It's sweet." she said, defending it. "I think it'll be beautiful."
Akihiko said nothing for a moment.
Then: "And you're helping him? You?"
Ayaka gave him a look. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Just… curious." he said, smiling faintly. "You don't strike me as the matchmaking type."
"I'm not." she said, crossing her arms. "But I owe Fujiwara. He's been good to Yuki. And... maybe it's kind of nice to be part of something good."
Akihiko didn't respond immediately.
His gaze lingered on her, a shade more serious now.
Then, just as the silence stretched a little too long, he stepped closer, tilting his head slightly.
"You told anyone else?" he asked, voice low.
"About the proposal? Just you and Keiko."
"Mm." His tone lightened. "So I'm in the inner circle now."
"Barely." she muttered.
He stopped in front of her, not touching, but close enough that she could see the way his eyes traced her expression. "You're really going..." he said. "Sleeping in tents. Cooking over fire. With... Miura"
Ayaka tensed. "He's not— it's not like that. And everyone is there!"
"I didn't say it was." Akihiko replied smoothly. "But you know how he looks at you."
She turned away. "That's none of your business."
"It is my business." he said. "But there's something more fascinating though..."
"What?"
He smirked. "You, in the woods. I'm just trying to imagine it."
"I'll manage." she said, standing up to put some distance between them. "Besides, it's not a romantic trip. It's Yuki and Fujiwara's moment. The rest of us are just supporting the cast."
Akihiko followed her movement but didn't close the distance.
Instead, he leaned against the back of her couch, fingers drumming idly against the cushion.
"So no midnight walks, then?" he asked casually.
"Not with you."
A pause. He gave a soft chuckle. "Careful, Ayaka. You sound like you're worried."
"I'm not." she snapped.
"Good." He pushed off the couch and walked toward the door. "Then should I show up early that day?"
"What for?"
"To help." he said. "Obviously. Carry heavy stuff, build the tents."
Ayaka narrowed her eyes. "You're not plotting something, are you?"
His eyes glinted. "My conscience is clear."
She threw a cushion at his back.
He caught it midair without turning.
"Pack something warm." he said over his shoulder. "You freeze too easily."
"You don't know that."
"I do." He gave her a quiet, knowing smile... and left.
"Unbelievable..."