By the third day, the lake house had become its own small world — half holiday, half chaos.The weather was perfect again: soft blue sky, a gentle breeze that made the curtains breathe in and out like the house itself was alive. Someone had made coffee too strong; someone else had eaten the last pancake before anyone could claim it. No one really cared.
After breakfast, they'd declared a Game Day.
The living room floor was covered with card decks, chips, stray socks, and a growing pile of snacks. The air smelled faintly of citrus from the open windows and the salt of the lake carried on the wind.
"Alright!" Suki announced dramatically, clapping once. "Uno tournament. No mercy. No forgiveness. No survivors."
Kenji raised a brow. "You said that last round and still lost to Miyako."
"That was a warm-up!" Suki protested. "My true power activates when I'm emotionally compromised."
Ryuzí, sitting cross-legged beside him, deadpanned, "That explains a lot about your existence."
Suki gasped. "Rude."
"You love it."
Suki pouted, but his grin returned in seconds. "We'll see who's laughing when you're drawing twenty cards."
Aoi looked between them with fond exasperation. "You two sound like a married couple."
Suki nearly choked on his drink. Ryuzí glanced away, smirking faintly. "Don't encourage him."
"Oh, please," Suki said. "You're the one who started calling me sunshine in front of people."
Kenji leaned forward, eyes glinting. "Wait—he calls you what?"
"Nothing," Ryuzí said quickly.
"Sunshine," Suki repeated proudly.
Kenji clutched his chest. "Romantic betrayal! I thought I was your sunshine."
"You're my storm cloud," Suki said sweetly. "Different category."
Miyako laughed, a quiet, genuine sound, as she arranged the cards in her hand. "Can we start before the metaphors escalate?"
"Starting!" Suki declared, throwing down a card. "Reverse!"
"You can't start with a reverse," Aoi said.
"I just did," he said. "House rules."
Ryuzí sighed. "You're chaos embodied."
"Your chaos," Suki said with a wink.
That earned him the smallest, unguarded smile from Ryuzí, one only Aoi noticed.
The game descended quickly into joyful anarchy.Kenji kept losing track of turns.Suki kept trying to bend the rules in increasingly creative ways.Aoi tried (and failed) to mediate.Miyako quietly won three rounds in a row without anyone realizing until it was too late.
When Suki caught on, he pointed at her accusingly. "You—! You're a card shark in disguise!"
Miyako shrugged, smiling. "You were too busy making speeches."
"I was performing," he said dramatically. "For morale."
Ryuzí nudged him with his knee. "You mean for attention."
Suki froze mid-protest, grin flickering uncertainly.Something in Ryuzí's tone—dry, sharper than usual—hit wrong. Just a fraction too flat to sound like teasing.
Aoi noticed it. Kenji didn't; he was busy eating chips by the handful.Miyako, silent, shuffled the deck again.
Suki forced a small laugh. "Well, attention is a valid life goal."
"Apparently," Ryuzí murmured without looking up.
It wasn't cruel. It wasn't even intentional. But it landed heavy anyway.
Suki tried to brush it off. He smiled too wide. He played the next card with a flourish. He laughed when he shouldn't have.The laughter didn't quite reach his eyes.
By the time afternoon rolled around, the games had scattered into smaller circles.Kenji and Miyako were setting up Jenga near the window, Aoi was scrolling through her camera roll on the couch, and Suki sat beside Ryuzí again, trying to start another round of cards.
"You sure you want to keep playing?" Ryuzí asked, voice quiet but still distant.
"Yeah," Suki said quickly. "It's fun."
Ryuzí didn't reply. He looked tired—preoccupied, maybe. Something about his expression made Suki's chest tighten.
He shuffled the cards again, trying to pull him back in. "You're really quiet. Thinking about work?"
"No," Ryuzí said after a pause. "Just… tired, I guess."
"Oh." Suki's smile faltered. "You want space?"
"Not space," Ryuzí said, rubbing a hand over his face. "Just—maybe less noise for five minutes."
Suki blinked. "Less noise?"
Ryuzí sighed, instantly regretting the phrasing. "Not like that. I mean—less chaos. You've been on since morning."
Suki stared at him, the words stinging even though the tone wasn't harsh. "You think I'm… too much?"
Ryuzí looked up, startled. "No. I just meant—"
"It's fine," Suki said quickly, standing. "I can be quiet."
"Suki—"
"No, really." He laughed, the sound bright and brittle. "I can totally be quiet. Watch." He pressed his fingers to his lips dramatically. "See? Mute button."
Aoi glanced up, catching the sharpness in his voice.Miyako's eyes flicked between them but said nothing.Kenji frowned, mid-Jenga stack.
Ryuzí's brows furrowed. "That's not what I meant."
"Sure," Suki said, voice too light. "I'm gonna… get some air."
He set his cards down and left before anyone could stop him.
The door slid shut behind him with a soft thud.
Outside, the world was too beautiful to match the ache in his chest. The lake glittered, dragonflies skimmed the surface, and the dock creaked under his feet as he sat down. The reflection staring back at him looked ridiculous — messy hair, forced smile, eyes bright for the wrong reason.
"Too much," he muttered. "Classic."
He hugged his knees, resting his chin on them. The warmth that usually came from Ryuzí's teasing felt cold now, like a joke gone stale.
He knew Ryuzí hadn't meant it that way.He knew that.But knowing didn't make it hurt less.
Behind him, the door creaked open again.Ryuzí stepped out, slower this time.
Suki didn't turn. "Don't," he said quietly. "I'm fine."
Ryuzí hesitated. "You're not."
"Then what do you want me to say?" Suki asked, finally looking back. "That I'm being dramatic? That I should just laugh it off?"
Ryuzí stopped a few feet away. "No. I just want you to talk to me instead of walking out."
Suki laughed again, small and sharp. "Talking gets me told to be 'less noise.'"
Ryuzí closed his eyes for a second. "That came out wrong."
"Yeah," Suki said. "It did."
For a long moment, the air between them hung heavy with all the things they didn't mean but still said.
Ryuzí finally walked forward, sitting beside him on the dock. The boards dipped slightly under their combined weight. The water lapped quietly, pretending not to listen.
"I didn't mean you're too much," Ryuzí said, voice low. "You fill rooms, Suki. That's part of you. It's—" He sighed, rubbing his temple. "It's what I like."
Suki's lips twitched. "You have a weird way of showing it."
"I know," Ryuzí said. "I just—sometimes I forget that not everything has to be quiet for me to rest."
Suki tilted his head. "You like quiet. I'm… the opposite."
"Yeah," Ryuzí said, finally meeting his gaze. "That's probably why it works."
Suki exhaled slowly, the tension beginning to slip. "You're lucky you're hot when you apologize."
Ryuzí let out a quiet laugh. "I'll add that to my list of redeeming traits."
Suki nudged his shoulder. "You don't have to. You already have enough."
Ryuzí looked at him then, really looked, and something softened in his expression. "I hurt you."
"Accidentally," Suki said.
"Still counts."
Suki smiled faintly, small and sincere. "You're forgiven. But you're making the next round of coffee."
"Deal," Ryuzí said, relief coloring his tone.
They sat in silence after that—not cold this time, but companionable. Suki leaned his head against Ryuzí's shoulder, the sun warming both of them. The lake glittered like nothing bad could stay between them for long.
Inside, the others pretended not to notice their absence.Aoi stacked the cards neatly, Kenji cleaned up the crumbs, and Miyako stared out the window, her phone face-down beside her.
When it buzzed once on the table, she didn't move.
The name didn't appear—just the number.Unknown:Still pretending, huh?
Her hand tightened on the edge of the table.Kenji looked up. "You good?"
Miyako blinked, smile sliding back into place. "Yeah. Just tired."
He nodded, not convinced but unwilling to pry. "You want to play the next round?"
"Maybe later," she said. "I'll watch."
Aoi glanced her way, sensing the undercurrent but not naming it. "You sure?"
"Yeah," Miyako said, softer now. "I like watching."
She didn't, not really. But it was easier than explaining why her chest felt heavy even with all this laughter around her.
By evening, the house had settled into a quiet truce.Suki and Ryuzí came back inside, hands brushing just slightly, both of them pretending it wasn't intentional.Kenji declared movie night; Aoi approved.They piled blankets on the floor, dimmed the lights, and for a little while, it felt like everything was whole again.
Suki leaned against Ryuzí's shoulder, eyes heavy.Aoi scribbled quiet notes for her blog between scenes.Kenji laughed too loud.Miyako's phone buzzed once more on the table behind them, unseen.
She didn't check it.
Instead, she stared at the flickering screen, her reflection ghosting faintly in the dark glass. The warmth of the others washed around her like a tide she couldn't quite step into.
Outside, the lake shifted. The first clouds had started to roll in from the west—slow, gray, unhurried.The kind that didn't look like storms at first.Just shadows.