Kokoro followed closely behind Mika as they stepped through the tall velvet doors of Theater 3.
A soft whoosh of cooled air enveloped them, carrying the subtle scent of polished leather and refined elegance. The dimmed lights cast a warm, golden glow over the rows of plush, stadium-style seats, imbuing the space with an atmosphere of hushed expectation. The gentle hum of voices wove a subtle melody through the air, akin to the soothing lapping of a low tide, neither loud nor obtrusive, yet palpably present—a gentle thrum of anticipation, excitement, and muted conversation that seemed to vibrate with the promise of something momentous to come.
The theater's grandeur was awe-inspiring, its vaulted ceiling stretching high above like a celestial canvas, dotted with tiny recessed lights that twinkled like a scattering of stars across the velvet expanse of night sky. The deep blue velvet seats, luxuriously upholstered and softly cushioned, provided a rich contrast to the warm, golden gleam of brass railings and cupholders that adorned the aisles. At the forefront of the theater, a massive black screen loomed like a slumbering giant, its dark surface reflecting the faint glow of the starlight ceiling, patiently awaiting the moment when it would spring to life and unfurl its narrative magic. The very air seemed to vibrate with anticipation, as if the theater itself was holding its breath in expectation of the story that was about to unfold.
Kokoro's eyes darted across the room, taking in the lively scene: friends clustered together, their conversations flowing like a gentle stream, couples leaning in close, their whispers sweet and intimate, and families smiling and scolding in equal measure as they tried to rein in their bubbly kids. The atmosphere was warm and inviting, filled with the hum of chatter and the occasional burst of laughter.
From somewhere in the middle rows came a loud whisper:
"Dude, I swear, if they kill off the heroine again I'm walking out."
"She literally died in the trailer."
"Yeah, but trailers lie! It's marketing!"
"Bro, just bring tissues this time."
A giggling group of girls a few seats down:
"Oh my gosh, look at that actor—he's playing the prince again! I hope he takes his shirt off this time."
"Yuki! You're shameless!"
"I'm just here for the plot, I swear~."
A pair of older men chuckled as they debated the genre loudly:
"Romance? Again? This was supposed to be action, not people holding hands for two hours!"
"Exactly why I didn't bring my wife this time. I want explosions."
Kokoro couldn't help but let a tiny smile slip.
But before he could linger too long on the chaos of the crowd, he felt the soft tug on his arm.
Mika.
Still hugging Koro-chan with one hand, she held onto his arm with the other, gently pulling him toward the last row of the theater. The very top. The VIP section.
The VIP row stood out starkly from the rest of the seats, boasting luxuriously spaced recliners that felt more like mini couches than mere chairs. Each seat was equipped with plush armrests, generous legroom, and built-in trays, exuding an air of refined sophistication and indulgent comfort. Yet, despite the opulence, the entire row sat eerily empty, a stark contrast to the bustling atmosphere elsewhere, as if waiting for occupants who had yet to arrive.
Just them.
Mika dropped onto the far-right couch with a soft, satisfied sigh, the cushions enveloping her in comfort. Kokoro settled in beside her, and as he did, the plush leather cradled him, yielding to his weight like a gentle cloud. A low, involuntary groan slipped from his lips, a testament to the seat's indulgent softness, and he couldn't help but let out a little smile as he sank in.
"…Man, this couch is dangerous," he muttered under his breath.
Mika giggled, pulling Koro-chan onto her lap like a proud mother cuddling her child. Blubby, meanwhile, had been unceremoniously placed on Kokoro's lap, staring up at him with its usual dopey grin.
Kokoro glanced around, noticing again that no one else had entered the VIP section.
"…Guess these seats are too expensive for most people," he murmured, leaning back.
His curiosity itched a little. How expensive were these seats, anyway? He imagined his wallet quietly exploding in his pocket at the mere thought.
As if reading his thoughts, Mika leaned in slightly with a beaming smile.
"You'll love this movie," she said, her voice bubbling with anticipation. "I've watched it before. Twice. It's so good."
Kokoro looked at her—her soft expression illuminated by the faint light of the screen, her joy practically contagious—and offered a crooked, troubled smile in return.
"…I hope I will too."
Their tranquility was fleetingly broken by an employee who approached their row with the quiet ease of a ghost. With a discreet smile, he deposited their snacks onto the built-in trays: a gargantuan bucket of caramel popcorn that glistened like molten gold under the soft lights, and two towering sodas overflowing with crushed ice that clinked softly against the glass sides.
"Thank you," Kokoro said instinctively, but the employee only nodded with a bow before quietly leaving.
Kokoro reached over, plucked a single piece of popcorn, and popped it into his mouth.
Sweet. Buttery. Lightly salted. A perfect blend.
He turned his head slightly—Mika was already digging into the bucket, smiling as she watched the pre-roll ad with the same focus one would reserve for a dramatic finale.
Then, the lights dimmed further.
The golden hues vanished. The conversations faded like mist.
A faint hum filled the air, and then—
The black screen sparked to life.
Color. Sound. Movement.
The story began.
The murmurs ceased abruptly, leaving behind a hushed silence punctuated only by the occasional crunch of popcorn or the gentle slurp of soda, sounds that rippled through the rows like gentle lapping waves on a still lake. Kokoro shifted slightly in his seat, Blubby still snugly nestled on his lap, and turned his gaze to the screen, his eyes drawn to the darkness that awaited the unfolding story.
The warm, flickering glow of the movie illuminated both him and Mika in alternating shades of blue and gold.
He could feel the rhythm of her breathing beside him, calm and steady, as she leaned in just a little closer—entirely absorbed in the moment.
And somehow, surrounded by strangers yet entirely isolated in their private little row, Kokoro found himself at ease.
------------------------------------------------------
As the minutes ticked by, the darkened theater became a world of its own, bathed in the eerie glow of the silver screen. The movie's gripping narrative—a heart-pounding tale of love and survival in a zombie-infested wasteland—had fully absorbed the audience. The rustle of popcorn, the occasional soft hiss of a soda straw, and the low thrum of the audio system were the only sounds that broke the tension, heightening the suspense as the story hurtled towards its climax.
Kokoro's gaze was glued to the screen, his dark eyes mirroring the flickering images as he leaned forward, his attention completely absorbed by the movie. The taut tension between the characters, the oppressive silence that hung in the air between the intense action scenes—all of it was riveting. He couldn't deny it: the film was genuinely good. A small part of him begrudgingly acknowledged that Mika had been right all along.
On the screen, the young couple huddled together, their faces smeared with dirt and exhaustion, their chests heaving with ragged breaths as they sought refuge inside the cramped, overturned bus. The relentless rain pounded against the metal exterior, drumming out a rhythmic melody that contrasted starkly with the tense, hushed silence that filled the interior. Water seeped through the cracks, forming tiny rivulets that glistened in the faint light, but the couple's attention was fixed on each other, their eyes locked in a desperate bid for comfort and reassurance. The sound of the rain swirling around them created an immersive atmosphere, drawing Kokoro and the rest of the audience into the tense, rain-soaked world of the characters.
The young woman's voice was barely audible, a whispered plea as she gazed up at the man, her eyes wide with fear. Blood trickled down her forehead, a crimson rivulet that seemed to underscore the desperation of their situation.
"We're cornered," she whispered, her words hanging in the air like a death sentence. "Three streets back, three groups of those... things. There's no way out."
The man's response was immediate, his voice low and rough, yet infused with a quiet determination. He wrapped his fingers around her shoulder, his grip firm yet gentle, as if trying to anchor her to reality.
"There's always a way out," he whispered back, his words laced with conviction. "You said it yourself, back at the river. As long as we're together, we'll keep moving. Right?"
For a moment, the woman's gaze faltered, her voice trembling as she replied, "But we're tired... You're hurt."
The man's eyes locked onto hers, burning with a fierce resolve. His voice dropped to a whisper, the words tumbling out like a prayer.
"I'll carry us both if I have to," he vowed, his voice cracking with emotion. "I'm not letting you go. Not now. Not when we're so close to... Not when I've come so far with you." (Authors Note: I was dying inside making this cringy shit, or is it? Comment if this scene is cringe worthy)
In that moment, the world around them melted away, leaving only the two of them, suspended in a fragile bubble of hope and determination. The man's words were a promise, a vow to protect and cherish, to hold onto each other no matter what horrors lay ahead. The screen burst into another sequence—flashlight beams bouncing, muffled screams in the distance, the wet squelch of approaching undead.
But as the movie pressed forward, the real world within the theater stirred with a quieter kind of tension.
Mika settled into her recliner, her body sinking into the plush cushions as she shifted slightly to get more comfortable. The movement was gentle, and Koro-chan, her cuddly plushy companion, remained securely nestled in her arms, its soft form a soothing presence. Across from her, Blubby lay plump and relaxed on Kokoro's lap, its stuffed body a picture of serene contentment.
As she lifted her soda to her lips, a mischievous spark ignited in Mika's ashen-gray eyes, hinting at a playful idea brewing in her mind. She took a long, indulgent sip of the ice-cold drink, feeling the chilled liquid slide down her throat, the cold sensation a welcome respite. A satisfying gulp followed, and Mika let out a quiet sigh of refreshment, her lips curling into a soft, serene smile.
The smile lingered on her lips, and for a moment, Mika's gaze drifted, lost in the gentle pleasure of the moment. The soft glow of the theater lights, the comforting and the quiet companionship of Kokoro all blended together to create a sense of peaceful contentment, a feeling that was both calming and rejuvenating.
She tilted her head to the side, glancing at Kokoro.
He looked like a model, she thought absently, her gaze drifting over the chiseled lines of his face. Tall and handsome, with a clean-cut, effortless elegance that seemed almost otherworldly. The sharp features of his face were perfectly accentuated by the slightly ruffled texture of his black hair, which framed his face with a subtle, undone charm.
The faint glow of the screen cast an ethereal light on his features, making his eyes shimmer with an almost hypnotic intensity. Their dark hue was fixed intently on the action unfolding before them, his gaze so absorbed that it seemed to draw everything around him into its orbit. The soft illumination highlighted the sharp planes of his face, lending an air of quiet sophistication to his already striking features.
He was beautiful.
But he was also too serious.
Mika smirked.
She reached out and gently poked his shoulder with her finger.
Kokoro blinked, still immersed in the story, before turning his head. He met her gaze, a questioning look on his face.
Mika didn't say anything. She simply gave him a look—a subtle raise of her brows, lips slightly parted—and gestured with a small nod for him to come closer.
He hesitated but leaned in slowly, thinking she was about to whisper something important. Maybe a fun fact about the film. Maybe a joke.
But instead—
Her soft, cool lips brushed the top of his ear.
Kokoro froze.
Then—
A gentle nibble. Followed by a slow, teasing lick of her tongue over the top curve of his ear.
He shuddered, his mind suddenly blank. Her breath was cool and carried a faint minty sweetness from her drink. Her saliva left a cold, tingling trail along his ear.
A shock ran down his spine.
His eyes widened.
It took him a second—two, maybe three—to process what just happened.
And then, with a sharp inhale, he jolted back.
The leather of the seat creaked as he nearly pulled away from his spot. His hand shot up to cover his right ear, his cheeks flushed with a rosy hue in the dark.
He stared at Mika with a flustered, incredulous expression. "…What are you doing?!"
His voice was low, a whisper made of panic and confusion. "W-Why are you doing that?"
Mika leaned back lazily with a triumphant, mischievous grin on her lips. Her eyes sparkled with amusement, her voice silky and playful.
"Relax, Koko-chan. I was just playing," she said, waving her hand lightly. "Don't take it so seriously~."
She leaned in again, this time resting her chin gently on Koro-chan's head, eyes locked onto Kokoro's flustered ones.
"I just wanted to add some real spice to our date," she whispered, the corners of her lips curled. "You looked so serious watching the movie… It made me want to tease you."
Kokoro groaned internally, his hand still over his ear, which was now burning.
With narrowed eyes and a deep sigh, he muttered, "Don't just do weird stuff out of nowhere…"
His voice was tinged with embarrassment, but he couldn't hide the subtle curl at the edge of his lips.
Mika didn't reply. She only turned her attention back to the screen, a soft grin lingering. She popped another piece of popcorn into her mouth as if nothing happened, completely unfazed.
Kokoro glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She was already leaning back, snuggling with Koro-chan in her arms again, utterly absorbed in the movie. As if she hadn't just sent a chill down his spine minutes ago.
He exhaled, slumping back into the cushion. Blubby's stitched smile stared up at him as if mocking his helplessness.
He sipped from his cold drink, the icy liquid offering some relief from the heat creeping up his neck.
"…Damn, she's really doing it," he thought quietly. "She's seriously making me fall for her."
His lips curled into a faint tired smile as he turned back to the screen.
The couple was now clinging to each other, bloodied and breathing hard, preparing for a final charge.