Kai and I have slipped into a routine. It doesn't feel like a choice; it's as inevitable as gravity. My week bends around the same points, despite any pretence of controlling my own schedule.
It's Friday already—one week since that "date" with Akio, one week since everything nearly fell apart in a single night, and Kai was the one to pick up the pieces.
What gets me the most is how I never anticipated seeing him at that bar in Dōgenzaka; that small surprise still trips me up, especially when I imagine how things could have turned out differently if Kai hadn't been there.
But he was, and that fact lingers in my mind.
Now, it feels as though he's made space for me in his life—but why now?
Part of me loves the fact that I got what I wanted: Kai's attention. But the other part is frustrated—in more ways than one—that Kai is still as much of a mystery to me as he's always been. The only thing I can do is watch him with intent and pick up on those small cracks that tell me there's so much more to Kai than I know.
He knows my hobbies, how many friends I have, my parents being gone, and when I'm spiralling.
He even knows my address.
I just want to know more.
But it's so much more than: I have a crush on you, Kai. Please tell me your life story.
It's: Let me see inside you. Let me see why you are the way you are.
And all I get are crumbs: the note with Mizuno's name, the bar in Dōgenzaka, the scar on his thigh, the "family friend" Saitō.
But right now, all I know is that I can breathe easier when he's near me. It's so easy to get lost in him that I forget that he's a sphinx—all calm stone and hidden riddles—revealing only what he decides I'm allowed to see.
—
It's late, and Kai is driving me home as if this has been our routine for years. All week, it's been the same: he's always downstairs first thing in the morning. I leave my apartment too quickly, then slow down—I refuse to be the kind of person who sprints for a boy, but I still do it, just with dignity. If I don't have classes, he doesn't need to text me because he knows my timetable better than I do. There's always water in the cup holder. On the rare occasions he brings a small snack, like onigiri, it's almost offensive—because he knows I skip breakfast.
His hands look unfair on the steering wheel. Long fingers, steady grip, the tendons in his wrist shifting when he turns. It's not even flashy; it's just competent. Like everything about him is built to hold control. I've seen those hands do softer things now, too—thumb against my lip, fingers in my hair, the brief pressure at my waist that made my brain go blank—and it's ruined me for the old version of staring.
I'd always known he was attractive; I have eyes. It was never a revelation—he's the type of guy girls twirl their hair for—he's probably been asked out by a handful of people from his course, but he kissed me, and after that kiss, everything shifted. He stopped being just an idea and became something real. His mouth is no longer only a feature I observe; it's a memory pressed into me. The way his lips shape his words, the hint of dryness at the corner when he lets out a slow breath, the tightness in his jaw when he's biting something back—I notice it all differently now.
What's worse is the fact that I want more, and he's so annoying because he's been staring at me since high school, now he wants to take it slow?
"Is there something on my face?" Kai says, eyes still fixed on the road. "You're staring," He glances over just once, and I see that smirk form on his lips—somehow softer than usual—and I can't stop myself from smiling.
Usually, I'd want to deny it. But right now, I don't bother. I just shrug, then lean my head back and look at the road, watching the street lights flash past.
"It's hard not to."
For a few seconds, Kai doesn't answer. He doesn't look over again, but I can feel his gaze like a brand, tracing down the side of my face.
Kai exhales sharply through his nose, almost a laugh, but not quite. His fingers flex against the steering wheel, tightening just slightly before relaxing again. "You're trouble," he says finally, voice lower than before.
The way he says it doesn't sound like an accusation. If anything, it sounds like he's savouring it.
I tilt my head toward him, watching the streetlights flicker across his profile—sharp jaw, the curve of his lower lip, the way his lashes cast faint shadows under his eyes when he blinks. "Yeah?" I draw out the word, testing. "You gonna do something about it?"
His mouth twitches. "Soon enough."
That single word sends heat curling low in my stomach. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from reacting, but my pulse jumps anyway. Kai notices, and the corner of his mouth lifts in that stupid, knowing way that makes me want to shove at him.
Instead, I lean back in my seat, trying to seem unaffected. "Promises, promises," I mutter.
Kai's hand leaves the wheel for half a second, just long enough to brush his knuckles against my knee—quick, deliberate, gone before I can even react. "Patience," he says, like it's that simple.
We pull up into the alley beside my building, and Kai kills the engine. There's still a tingle lingering on my knee where he touched me.
I don't know why I haven't moved yet. This is usually my cue to get out before I say something reckless or bratty. Kai looks frozen in thought, and the only thing I can think to do is click my seatbelt away to snap the silent tension.
Kai lets a low hum rumble in his throat as if he's decided something and reaches into the back seat and pulls out a white box. It lands in my lap.
I look down and the Apple logo is unmistakable.
I'm trying to reason with myself, like maybe I'm misunderstanding, maybe it's Kai's, and he's just showing me.
"Uhh—what's this?" It's the best I can manage. I can feel my face scrunching from the confusion.
Kai just looks at me like I was born yesterday. "It's your new phone."
I let out a heavy breath. "I have a phone already," I say, taking my phone out of my pocket, holding it up, trying to pretend that the screen isn't cracked.
"Your phone is compromised." He retorts.
I huff out a weak laugh. "You're so weird. Who even says stuff like that?"
Kai doesn't even flinch. He doesn't react like he's insulted. He just looks at my phone, then at me, as if the cracked screen is a symptom and I'm the problem.
"You threw it—"
"I didn't!"
Kai grips the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turn white, the veins in his forearms sticking out like cords. His jaw tightens, then loosens again, like he's forcing himself to keep his voice level.
The expression on his face makes me uneasy; it's so subtle, I doubt he'd know he's making it. He exhales through his nose, eyes going distant—not angry exactly.
"Anri—I hate it when you lie." My name in his mouth makes me sit up straight. His grip on the steering wheel loosens. "You always do that. You pretend—you pretend things are perfectly normal when they're not." He doesn't need to raise his voice for that to land.
"Kai—" I start, he's right, and there's no point in arguing. "I don't do it on purpose—please don't be mad—I just—"
"I'm not mad. Not at you." He doesn't let that notion sit in the car for long. I want to believe him from the way he keeps his voice subdued on purpose. "I just want you reachable, and your phone is broken."
"You act like I'm a missing person." I bite back. I hate how calm he can be while I'm wearing my heart on my sleeve.
Kai makes a low noise in his throat, as if he's deciding to be gentle or hit me somewhere deeper.
"You almost were." He says, finally.
That shuts me up.
My eyes sting. I look down at my lap and start fumbling to open the box. I detest how he sees through me. I hate that he can just decide things for me. If I make my hands look busy and surrender now, Kai won't see that I'm holding back tears. Which is stupid. He didn't say anything mean. He just told the truth, which somehow hurts more than if he were rude.
Even more terrifying, those feelings start to rearrange themselves into their own delusion.
He cares.
I pull the lid off the box, and I almost wince. It's the latest, most expensive iPhone model in white, which just so happens to be the same model as Kai's; his is dark blue. Who even needs a phone that flashy? Well, according to Kai, I'm in fact the one who needs a phone that flashy.
"This is too much…" I mutter. The phone feels too big in my hand. I let out a soft sigh. "You're not going to take no for an answer, are you? So…thanks."
Kai's shoulders ease, like he'd been waiting for me to stop fighting. "Transfer your data. Then, after…" he clears his throat. "Share your location with me. Indefinitely."
I swallow, staring at the pristine phone in my hand. Kai's words cut too close to things I don't want to think about, so I pretend they don't matter. "You want my location…indefinitely?" The way he says it—like it's a given—should make me want to throw my old phone at the windshield. That familiar anger is there, but it's all mixed up with something else. I can barely look at him without my stomach doing an embarrassing little flip.
Kai shrugs as if it's the most normal thing in the world, as if his voice hasn't gone even lower. "Just a precaution. So, I always know where you are." A precaution. I let the word float through my mind before I can think about it too hard, as if I pick at it too much, it'll come apart. Always. I hate how much I love the way he says that. There's no trace of a question in his tone.
I turn the box over in my hands again, trying to think of something to say next. The idea of him always knowing where I am feels equally terrifying and thrilling. "Fine." I agree. "But you should share your location too. So it's fair."
Kai looks at me for a moment as if he's trying to figure out if I'm joking. When he realises I'm not, he lets out a low huff, like the idea surprises him for some reason. But then his face goes neutral again, so quickly I might have imagined it.
"You'll get lost in it." He says too quickly.
"Well…yeah," I admit.
Kai shifts in his seat. "I'll share my location. But there's one condition."
I roll my eyes, already steeling for whatever ludicrous thing he's about to say. "Oh, here we go. What?"
Kai leans in slightly, fingers tapping lightly against the steering wheel. "No games. We don't turn it off." His voice drops, rough and insistent. "Ever. Don't get pissed off with me and turn it off to get a rise out of me."
I swallow hard, struggling to ignore the way my pulse jumps. "And if I do?"
His fingers still. He doesn't smile. "Then I'll come find you myself."
The quiet threat in his tone sends a tremor down my spine—but it's not fear. It's something hotter, something reckless.
I tilt my head, just enough to meet his gaze. "Promise?"
Kai exhales sharply through his nose, like I've surprised him again. But then his hand reaches over, fingers caressing my knee—light, possessive—before he pulls away.
"Try me."
The words settle between us, weighted. I bite my lip hard to keep from grinning like an idiot. Try me. He might as well have thrown down a challenge wrapped in gasoline.
"So smug," I mutter, flicking the edge of the phone box with my thumb. "What if I want you to come find me?"
Kai's jaw tenses. His grip shifts on the wheel, knuckles paling again, but this time, it's not frustration. I can tell it's restraint.
"Then you'd be playing a dangerous game."
The air in the car suddenly feels thick. I lean forward, just slightly, testing. "Maybe I like dangerous."
His gaze drops to my mouth. For a heartbeat, neither of us breathes.
Kai turns to me. "Set up your damn phone," he grumbles, but the roughness in his voice betrays him.
I slump back in my seat, victorious and furious at how much that thrills me.
Kai sits patiently and watches the tedious process of transferring my data over.
The air in the car feels heavy now, crackling with tension. I can feel Kai's eyes on me, like he can see right through my flimsy attempts at composure. I want to look back at him, but I force myself to focus on the phone, trying to ignore the way my heart is pounding.
"So, how do we do this?" I say, my voice coming out a little bit too breathy. "The location thing."
He wraps his hand around my new phone—not taking it from me—letting his fingers brush against mine as his thumb swipes to our messages. "Here, you just send the request. Indefinitely," Kai's phone buzzes, and he swipes it open and accepts.
My phone buzzes as he now requests my location.
My thumb hovers. I don't even know why I'm hesitating. I should be scared—that's not why I'm hovering—once I accept, then it's a contract.
If it were anybody else…
I'd pull away.
I accept the request.
The space between us shrinks without either of us moving—just breathing, just wanting. His eyes drop to my mouth. My lungs burn from holding my breath.
Kai leans in. His hand clasps around my jaw. "I have to go," he grits out, as if the words pain him.
I bite my lip. "Where?"
He exhales sharply through his nose, shoulders tensing. "Doesn't matter. You can check now, can't you?"
"Check my location later," I breathe, tilting my chin up.
Kai makes a low sound—almost a growl—and for a second, I think he'll cave and stay. But then his phone buzzes between us, shattering the moment. He pulls back just enough to glance at the screen, jaw clenching.
"Fuck." His thumb brushes my lower lip once—quick, punishing—before he leans away entirely. "Next time," he mutters, turning the key in the ignition.
The promise lingers in the air between us, heavy as his gaze when it flicks to mine one last time.
Before I can stop myself, and because I actually feel entitled in this moment, I open my mouth in protest. "No. You don't get to give me a new phone and then drive off without so much as a kiss."
Kai's head snaps up so fast that I almost laugh. He looks at me incredulously for a few seconds, like I've just thrown a bucket of cold water over the moment. And then his gaze drifts down to my lips, just for a second, like he's considering. I can practically see the internal battle he's waging, the need to leave fighting against whatever this thing is between us. Finally, he lets out a quiet huff—defeated and exasperated, but a hint of a smile on his lips nonetheless. "You're such a brat, you know that?"
"Of course I do."
The corner of his mouth twitches—that barely-there smirk that drives me insane—before he leans in again, closer this time. His breath is warm against my skin, his fingers tightening where they're tangled in my shirt. "You really think you get to make demands after I just handed you a brand-new phone?"
I lift my chin, refusing to back down even as my pulse thrums under his touch. "Yeah, actually. I do."
His thumb brushes the hinge of my jaw, rough and deliberate, and I can't suppress the shiver that runs through me.
"Tell me," he murmurs, voice low enough that it vibrates in my chest, "why I should reward you for being difficult."
I don't hesitate. "Because you want to."
His gaze darkens, and for a second, I think I've won. But then his phone buzzes again, insistent, and Kai's jaw clenches. He doesn't pull away, though. Instead, he drags his thumb over my bottom lip once more, slow enough to make my breath catch.
"You're right," he admits, voice rough. "I do."
His thumb lingers, pressing just hard enough to make my lips part on instinct. His breathing hitches—barely noticeable unless you're close enough to feel it, and I watch as his pupils dilate further, swallowing the murky green and brown of his irises until there's almost nothing left but black.
He closes the distance and presses the most agonisingly soft kiss to my mouth.
Such a fucking tease.
His breath is ragged through his mouth, and he leans back, putting deliberate distance between us. "Get out of the car," he mutters, voice thick.
I blink, still dazed. "What?"
"Now."
It takes me a second to realise he's not angry. The realisation sends a thrill through me. I smirk, dragging my tongue over my bottom lip just to watch his jaw tighten.
"You're bossy," I tease, my voice a little breathless.
A rush of night air touches my face as I open the car door—it's only then that I realise I must be blushing.
The night air is cool against my skin, the silence almost jarring after the heavy weight of that moment in the car. I feel flushed, lightheaded, and Kai hasn't even done anything—yet. I glance over my shoulder, expecting him to storm around the car to take this to the next step, but he's just sitting there, watching me. His shoulders rise and fall a little too fast, fingers gripping the wheel. He looks coiled tight, like he's one second away from snapping.
I like him like this.
I smirk, lingering by the open car door just to watch him unravel further. Every detail screams how badly he wants to yank me back into the car.
"Sure you don't wanna come up?" I taunt, tapping my new phone against my palm.
Kai's laugh is rough, almost pained. "Go upstairs before you get me into trouble."
I take a step back, just to spite him. "You know where to find me."
I wait until his taillights vanish before exhaling shakily. My fingers tremble as I pull up his location on my screen—moving away, but still close enough to chase.
I should go upstairs.
I tell myself that like it's a normal thing to do, even though my hands are still shaking around a brand-new phone and my mouth feels like it's waiting for something that never happened.
The alley is quiet. Too quiet. The entrance light on my building covers everything in a flat yellow glow that makes you look guilty, even if you haven't done anything wrong.
I make myself walk forward.
With every step toward the door, it feels like I'm leaving something behind in the car: warmth, permission, the version of Kai that almost got out.
Inside, the lobby smells like concrete, detergent, and someone else's dinner.
This is normal life.
But I'm not normal.
The elevator mirror catches me as the doors close. My face is flushed, my eyes too bright, my lips swollen from biting them. I look away, feeling like I've been caught. I can still feel Kai watching me, even though he isn't here. But that's the problem—he is here.
He's on my screen.
His location dot is moving.
I know it's moving because I check without thinking. The map opens automatically, like it's already muscle memory. The little icon glides along streets I recognise without needing to zoom in.
When I get inside my apartment, the door clicks shut behind me, and the silence hits differently. It's not peaceful. It's empty in a way that feels personal.
I drop my bag by the wall. Kick my shoes off with more force than necessary. I keep the phone in my hand the whole time like it's attached to my skin.
I tell myself I'm only checking to make sure it works.
I check again.
His dot keeps moving. It turns. It slows. It stops at a light. It starts again. I can't stop tracking it in my head, as if I keep watching, I can predict him. Like, I can make him less mysterious by turning him into a route.
My thumb zooms in, then out. My other hand presses against my mouth because I can feel my breathing getting stupid. Shallow. Uneven. Like I'm waiting for something to happen on a screen.
This is insane.
This is what he warned me about.
I pace once, a short line from the kitchen to the balcony door and back again. The motion doesn't calm me. It just gives the energy somewhere to go that isn't my mouth.
The map already opens so easily now. My thumb knows where to go without thinking. I'm stuck in Bunkyo like I'm tethered to this apartment, and Kai is already on the freeway to Shibuya, and I can actually see it.
I watch until the relief turns sour. Until I realise I'm holding my breath over a dot on a screen like a fucking idiot.
I'm Kai's fucking idiot.
Even if he won't name it.
Even though I wish he would.
I should be doing the important stuff like downloading my playlists onto my new phone and re-downloading all of my apps. Better yet, catching up on coursework. Yet, here I am on a Friday night…
My phone buzzes with a text, and the banner shows immediately.
Yuyu:
You home tonight?
Get your ass on Dead by Daylight[1] right now.
For once, I'm actually relieved it's Yuujin. It's been a while since I've actually done something normal with him.
I walk over to my desk and open my laptop.
The fan whirs, and for a second, it feels like I've given my brain something simple to chew on. Something that isn't Kai's thumb on my lip.
I set my phone face up on the desk near my mouse. Not because I'm planning to check it. Obviously not. That would be insane.
The map is still open. The little dot is still moving in increments, sliding through Shibuya's streets like it has a destination.
I pull my headset on and check Discord to see Yuujin's profile picture sitting alone in a voice chat. I click to join, and Yuujin is oblivious—he sounds far away from his mic, singing dramatically off key—then the sound of his headset fumbling.
"No fucking way, Ace!" Yuujin's voice peaks through my headset. "You're actually here—not gonna lie, I thought you'd be with Kai tonight."
I try to keep my voice subdued; it's late, and the walls are thin. "Wow…he's busy tonight. I'll just have to tolerate hanging out with you instead." I tease.
Yuujin laughs. "Oh, it's like that, is it?"
"It's always like that," I mutter, clicking Dead by Daylight open. My eyes flick to my phone without permission—then flick away again as if I've been caught red-handed. "You know…he bought me the new iPhone. Is that—that's normal, right?"
Yuujin inhales dramatically. "What?!?" I pull my headset away from my ears for a second. "Which one? The Pro Max?"
"Yeah," I answer. I can practically hear Yuujin's brain restarting. "My screen was cracked. So he just…yeah…"
Yuujin snorts. "Ace…my screen is cracked. Where's my rich boyfriend?"
"He's not my—"
"Mhm," Yuujin cuts in, amused. "Not your boyfriend? What then?"
I feel my face heat as I stare at the game lobby. The phone glows at the edge of my desk. "I don't know. We're just…he's—I don't know! Can we just play now?" I snap, too loudly.
"Fine, fine." Yuujin queues us for a match; there's still downtime, still a chance for him to pry. "Just answer me this one question. What have you guys actually—you know—done?"
My apartment feels too warm all of a sudden.
"Done? As in?" I don't know why I'm playing dumb. I know exactly what he's asking.
"He's a biter, I know that much. Your neck wasn't subtle on Monday," Yuujin says too quickly.
"Perverted idiot…" I mutter into the mic.
"Me? Perverted? Fine, maybe a little bit, but can you blame me? All that bickering and intense staring—it was just sexual tension all along." He says, amused. "You don't have to give me details—just…what level are we at?"
"Level?" I echo, stupidly.
"Oh my god, you're so cute. Yeah, like: kissed, made out…more. Or are you still pretending you don't know what those words mean?"
My throat feels tight. I keep my voice subdued on purpose. "We've kissed…and stuff."
"And stuff," he repeats.
"We're not exactly rushing anything," I admit, realising that I sound almost dejected.
Yuujin's voice softens. "You make that sound like it's a bad thing."
"No—it's not bad. Just—well, you know…" I mumble.
"Anri, to be honest, it sounds like you're already his." I know this tone. Sometimes I fondly believe that Yuujin is an idiot. Others, he's wise beyond his nineteen years. I always know when he's about to drop wisdom into thin air. "Think about it, you've kissed, but he doesn't want to rush. If he didn't care about you, I don't think he'd take his time. He drives you around, buys you a phone—I've never seen him actually give a shit about anyone—you obviously have a hold over him."
Finally. Our queue loads us into a pre-game lobby. I can practically hear Yuujin's smug aura through the voice chat. But maybe he's right. I've never seen Kai be so observant or even attentive with anyone else. It's just hard to fathom the notion that he could have feelings for me.
We load into a match, and already I keep glancing down at my new phone. Kai's been moving across Shibuya for a while now—stopping, starting—I try to pretend I don't care, try to pretend that I'm not monitoring him.
The truth is, I know I'm not experienced. Kai is my first everything. Now I can't look at him without wanting him to slip.
I crave him in so many ways, it's not even funny. How the fuck am I supposed to focus?
Kai doesn't know how greedy I am—or maybe he does, and he's trying not to crack. It only makes me want him more—I want to feel how much of a hold I have over him. I want to know what makes him cry, what makes him ache.
I want to know the deepest, darkest parts of him—not to fix them, not to save him, but to be the only one who knows they exist.
The screen fills with movement and noise, like the game is trying to drag me back into my body.
Yuujin's still talking, light and smug, like he hasn't just accidentally said something that lodged under my ribs.
I try to focus. My hands move on autopilot, my eyes track shapes, and I tell myself I can act normal for one match. That's not a big ask.
My phone glows at the edge of my desk.
I look away.
Two seconds later, my eyes flick back again anyway, as if I've trained myself.
Something catches me off guard in the game. I react a fraction too late. My character goes down hard, and the sudden loss of control makes my stomach flip with irritation that isn't really about the match.
Yuujin teases me and I ignore him. Every shred of downtime means my eyes wander back to the phone.
I don't know why I feel so tense watching Kai stop and start on the map. I don't know what I should have expected.
Yuujin queues match after match for several hours, despite the fact that I'm practically a dead-weight teammate tonight.
We start another game, and the deeper into Shibuya I see that dot go, the more breathless it's making me. I can barely tell what's happening on my laptop screen; I'm just tunnel-visioned on the phone.
Then I stop everything I'm doing as my gaze locks onto Kai's pin.
I zoom in on the map. Yuujin's still talking, I don't know if it's at me or his commentary, but none of what he's saying is sinking in.
Kai is at a dead stop in Dōgenzaka.
I zoom in further.
"Ace? You good? Hello?" Yuujin tries to get my attention.
Kai's location is within the radius of the bar Akio took me to.
Why would he go back there?
My mouth feels dry all of a sudden, as a sinking dread fills my stomach.
Worst-case scenarios scatter a million miles an hour. I can think of no reasonable or rational explanation for what he's doing there.
"Anri?" Yuujin's voice cuts through, and he sounds more concerned this time.
"Shit—sorry! I think…I think I'm gonna go. I feel a bit…sick. Sorry for being shit tonight."
I leave the voice chat and close the game before he can ask for more details.
I clutch the phone in my shaking hand even though it's the thing that's causing me to sink. Kai's pin hasn't moved.
The longer it stays still, the worse my brain gets. It starts filling in gaps it has no right to fill. It drags up the smell of that bar. The weight of Akio's hand. The ugly feeling of being shepherded toward a door and realising too late that the room behind it wasn't meant for anyone to say no inside.
I pace my apartment like a caged animal, phone clenched in my hand, then stop, then pace again. My feet don't know where to put themselves. Bedroom to kitchen. Kitchen back to my bedroom. My apartment feels smaller than it ever has, as if the walls are closing in.
I keep checking the screen like it's going to blink and prove I imagined the whole thing.
Still there.
Dōgenzaka.
I can't call him while he's still sitting there. I know that. Calling means admitting I'm watching in real time, admitting I've already started doing exactly what he said I'd do.
My gaze lands on my bed, and my stomach tightens because I know what's under it. The lockbox. It's always been there, like a secret I can physically reach for when I don't know what else to do with myself.
I drop to my knees and shove my hand under the bed. Dust catches under my nails. My fingers close around cold metal and drag it out.
The box is heavier than it should be for the stupid things I keep in it. Cigarettes, old photos, a few keepsakes I can't throw away, things I don't want anyone to find when I'm not ready to explain myself.
The box clicks open and I dig past the obvious things until my fingers touch folded paper. The only thing I kept from Kai's jacket and didn't put back was the note with Mizuno's name.
Mizuno
Shibuya-ku – Dōgenzaka
My throat tightens so hard it stings. I glance at the phone on the bed, then back at the note, then back at the phone again, as if I'm watching two pieces of a puzzle slide into place, and I don't want them to.
My fingers shake as I fold the note again, then unfold it because I can't stop myself. I don't even know what I'm expecting it to say differently on the second look.
I grab a cigarette from the box with my other hand, more out of instinct than choice. Something to do. Something I can control.
I don't smoke inside, usually. I know I shouldn't. But right now, the thought of stepping out onto the balcony feels like exposing myself to the world, and I can't afford to be seen in this state.
So I stand there in my bedroom with a cigarette between my fingers and a murder suspect's name folded into my palm, and I feel like a joke.
My hands move before I can overthink it. Cigarette to lips. Lighter flicks. The flame blooms and I pull in, too hard at first, like I'm trying to drag the thought out of my body with smoke.
The first inhale burns. The second steadies me a little. Not calm. Just… less sharp around the edges.
I exhale slowly and stare at the note like it's going to confess something if I look long enough.
This is all somehow connected.
The thought lands with a heavy certainty that makes my skin prickle. Not a theory. Not a maybe. A fact my body accepts even while my mind tries to fight it.
Kai didn't just happen to be at that bar.
Kai didn't just happen to be in Dōgenzaka the night Akio tried to take me somewhere I couldn't refuse.
Kai didn't just happen to write a murder suspect's name on a piece of paper with the same location.
My chest tightens. I take another drag, smaller this time, and the smoke scratches the back of my throat like punishment.
I try to line the pieces up in my head like I'm doing coursework, like logic will save me if I arrange it neatly.
Akio took me to Dōgenzaka.
Kai was there.
That note existed.
Now the dot is there.
And somewhere in the middle of that is me, sitting in my bedroom with my phone screen glowing and my fingers smelling like smoke, pretending this is normal because my brain doesn't know what else to do.
I feel stupidly betrayed by how simple it looks on the map. I don't even know what I'm scared of. That he's going to get hurt? Is he doing something that will make me see him differently?
No, that's not it.
I'm scared of how quickly I want it to be about me.
I take another drag to shut my thoughts up. It doesn't work. If anything, it makes everything louder. This feels like a dream. My brain keeps returning to the thought where I'm the centre of his attention, no matter where he goes.
That's disgusting.
My cigarette burns down, and I tap the ash into an empty can before it can land on the floor.
My phone buzzes in my hand, and for an agonising second, my heart feels like it's in my throat.
Yuyu:
Are you okay?
You know I'm not annoyed about the game, right?
"Fuck," slips out of me. I open the messages to type a reply, but for once, I don't know if I should be honest or save myself from having to explain something I don't even have answers to.
Ace:
I'm fine, honestly.
I'm just confused about where things are going with Kai.
I'm being truthful to a certain degree. I'm not lying about being confused. It's just easier to deflect with something human and honest rather than trying to unfurl Kai's secrets.
Ace:
I'm just new at this stuff and get in my head about it.
Yuyu is typing…
Yuyu:
Sorry if I was being too full on…
I just want you to be happy
Yuyu is typing…
Yuyu:
I don't know if you want advice
But if you want something from him, talk to him.
Yuujin's right, and it cuts like glass.
Whatever comes next won't be beautiful, not in the naïve way Yuujin imagines. The truth doesn't cradle; it carves. It gouges out innocence and leaves scars that ache with longing for something poisonous and true.
I'm ravenous for answers, no matter how venomous their taste, no matter how they burn.
My phone buzzes again.
Kai:
You've been watching, haven't you?
[1] Dead by Daylight is an online multiplayer survival horror video game. It also happens to be extremely popular amongst gamers in Japan.