The low clatter of dishes and the gentle aroma of simmered soy broth filled the dining room. Riku and Mei sat side by side at the table, with Riku's mother across from them and his father at the head, already halfway through slicing into a grilled mackerel.
"Itadakimasu," they said in unison, and the meal began.
Mei picked up her chopsticks carefully, still slightly stiff with politeness. Riku leaned closer and whispered, "Relax. They already like you."
Mei gave him a tiny elbow jab under the table.
"So, Mei-chan," Riku's mother said with a kind smile, placing a few slices of tamagoyaki onto her plate. "How long have you two been… close?"
"M-Mom!" Riku choked on his rice.
Mei laughed nervously but answered honestly. "A little while. We started talking more during the tournament. Riku… helped me through a lot."
His father leaned back, arms crossed. "You play basketball too?"
"Yes. Shooting guard," Mei answered, straightening a little. "I'm still learning, but I'm working hard."
"Good," he said with a nod. "Riku needs someone who keeps him sharp."
"I do not," Riku mumbled, face red.
"Oh, you do," Mei said with a sly grin.
The room warmed with soft laughter.
Mei tried the miso soup and looked genuinely impressed. "This is delicious, ma'am."
"Oh, thank you," Riku's mother beamed. "I had a feeling you'd like it."
"And the grilled fish is amazing," Mei added, glancing toward the father.
He gave a proud nod. "Caught it myself. Just this morning."
Riku blinked. "Wait, you went fishing today?"
"Before you woke up. While you were probably dreaming about basketball or Mei-chan."
Riku turned a shade deeper. "Can we not?"
They ate and talked, the awkwardness slowly melting away into warmth and casual laughter. Riku and Mei shared looks every so often—silent smiles, small glances that said everything without needing words.
As the plates emptied and tea was poured, Mei gently leaned her head on Riku's shoulder for a moment.
His parents pretended not to notice, but their approving smiles said otherwise.
The dishes were cleaned, the lights dimmed, and the soft hum of a Kyoto evening filled the house. Mei and Riku stepped out onto the wooden engawa, watching the wind gently sway the trees outside. The stars were beginning to peek through the deep blue sky.
Riku leaned against a pillar, hands in his hoodie pockets. Mei stood beside him, arms crossed, relaxed.
"They're… really good people," Mei said softly.
Riku looked at her. "Huh?"
"Your mom and dad. I was nervous at first," she admitted, "but they're warm. It's no wonder you turned out the way you did."
He chuckled under his breath. "You think I turned out good?"
"I think… you're better than you give yourself credit for," Mei said, her eyes gentle. "They trust you. I can see it."
Riku looked down at the wood beneath his feet. "I've had my share of stupid moments. But… yeah, I guess I was lucky to have them."
"They looked at me like I was already part of the family." She stepped a little closer. "That… means more than you know."
Riku turned to face her, their shoulders nearly brushing. "You are part of it, Mei. At least, I want you to be."
She smiled, then slipped her hand into his.
A quiet beat passed between them before Riku said, "Wanna head up?"
Mei nodded.
Upstairs, Riku pulled out the futon in the guest room for Mei while he tossed himself onto his bed. The glow of the desk lamp lit the space in warm yellow. Mei changed into a soft hoodie and shorts, brushing her hair before sitting cross-legged on the futon.
"You good?" Riku asked, looking over at her.
"Yeah," she said, lying back on the futon and pulling the blanket to her chin. "It's been a long day."
"Yeah," he echoed, turning on his side to face her across the room. "But a good one."
They were quiet for a few moments, listening to the wind brushing against the window.
Then Mei whispered, "Riku?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm happy we met."
He smiled, voice quiet. "Me too."
Their eyes met across the room, both glowing with something gentle and true.
"Goodnight, Riku."
"Goodnight, Mei."
And in the silence that followed, sleep slowly pulled them under—two hearts resting easy, under the same roof, under the same stars.
Sunlight slipped softly through the curtains, painting warm gold across the wooden floor of Riku's room. The air was quiet except for the faint chirping of birds outside and the distant sound of a train passing.
Riku stirred first, blinking at the ceiling with a sleepy grunt. He rolled onto his side and caught sight of Mei, still asleep on the guest futon, her face buried half into the pillow, strands of her hair falling across her cheek.
He smiled.
Getting up quietly, he stretched his arms above his head and walked to the sink to splash some water on his face. After brushing his teeth and fixing his hair into his usual light mess, he turned just as Mei slowly sat up, rubbing her eyes.
"Mornin'," she mumbled, voice still half-asleep.
"Yo," Riku grinned. "Sleep okay?"
She nodded, then blinked at him with a small smile. "Your house is too comfortable. I didn't want to get up."
"Heh, I'll let my mom know she wins the comfort battle."
Mei stood and stretched, letting out a small yawn. "What time is it?"
"Almost seven. We've got time for breakfast before school."
Mei nodded, still sluggish, and followed him downstairs.
In the dining room, the smell of grilled fish and miso soup was already wafting through the air. Riku's mom was setting the table, while his dad sipped tea, reading the morning paper.
"Ohayo gozaimasu," Mei greeted shyly, bowing.
"Ohayo, Mei-chan," his mom said warmly. "Did you sleep well?"
"Yes, thank you. Your house is lovely," she said, sitting next to Riku.
Riku's dad peeked from the paper. "She'll get used to your snoring, Riku."
"I don't snore!" Riku barked, cheeks turning red as Mei laughed.
Breakfast was a quiet harmony—soft clinks of chopsticks, the comfort of rice and soup, and casual morning chatter. Riku passed Mei a plate of tamagoyaki.
"Here. You like sweet egg, right?"
Mei nodded, smiling. "You remembered?"
Riku shrugged, avoiding eye contact. "Not that hard to remember."
His mom watched with a knowing smile.
Back upstairs, they grabbed their school bags and jackets. At the door, Riku's mom waved. "Take care, you two!"
Mei bowed politely. "Thank you for the meal!"
As they stepped out into the brisk Kyoto morning, Mei glanced at Riku. "Walking together feels… normal now."
Riku grinned, swinging his bag over his shoulder. "Guess we're turning into one of those couples."
"Oh?" she teased. "You mean a cute couple?"
"I mean... obviously," he said, brushing her hand with his.
Their fingers touched—then laced.
The city was alive around them, but for a moment, they walked in their own world, hearts quietly in sync, footsteps heading toward the same tomorrow.
The bell rang sharply, echoing through the halls of Sakura High, as students flooded the campus in a morning rush. Riku and Mei arrived just in time, walking side by side under the clear Kyoto sky. The campus buzzed with chatter, footsteps, and the occasional scolding from teachers urging latecomers inside.
Mei adjusted her uniform ribbon, her fingers slightly fidgety. "You sure no one will say anything?"
Riku smirked. "What? About us walking together?"
She gave him a sideways glance. "You know what I mean."
"Let them talk," Riku said with a shrug. "They're just jealous."
Mei tried to act annoyed, but the smile that slipped onto her lips betrayed her.
Their homeroom buzzed louder than usual.
As soon as Riku entered, a few classmates turned.
"Yo, is it just me, or did Riku come with Mei-chan again?"
"I saw them holding hands yesterday near the station!"
"Are they… dating?"
Riku dropped into his seat like nothing happened, throwing his bag onto the desk. Mei sat a few rows away, but their eyes met for a moment—brief, but meaningful.
Mr. Hanada, their homeroom teacher, walked in, immediately restoring order. "Alright, settle down. We're beginning."
The morning classes went by in a blur: math problems on the board, the teacher's chalk squeaking, students half-listening, half-daydreaming. Riku stared out the window more than once, and Mei occasionally caught herself doodling hearts in her margin before erasing them.
"Riku, you coming?"
"Yeah, wait up."
They climbed to the rooftop—quiet, breezy, and away from the stares. Mei opened her bento, filled with her mother's neat cooking. Riku pulled out his usual convenience store sandwich.
"I should make you lunch sometime," Mei offered casually.
Riku paused mid-bite. "Huh?"
She looked away, cheeks pink. "Never mind."
Riku grinned. "I'll hold you to that."
They sat in comfortable silence for a while. Seagulls flew past, the city stretching endlessly in every direction. Mei leaned her head gently against his shoulder.
"This part of the day… feels perfect."
In PE class, the boys were running laps while the girls practiced volleyball. Riku's usual energy was slightly elevated—he kept glancing over at Mei. She noticed, but said nothing.
Later, in literature class, the teacher asked everyone to write a short poem on love or loss. When Mei read hers aloud, a few students sighed quietly at the beauty of her words.
Riku scribbled something simple and honest:
"I didn't know warmth
Until you sat beside me.
Now I fear the cold."
The teacher nodded. "Unexpected depth from you, Riku."
He shrugged, eyes avoiding Mei's proud little smile.
The final bell rang.
As students packed up, Mei walked over to Riku's desk. "Wanna walk home again?"
Riku slung his bag over his shoulder. "Only if we take the long way."
She chuckled. "Deal."
As they left the classroom together, whispers started again—but this time, there was admiration in the tone.
And somewhere in the back of the classroom, a new student with silver hair and piercing eyes sat watching them silently.