The morning after our date, the city didn't look any different, but it felt that way.
Same walk to the office. Same coffee shop on the corner. Same barista who looked three hours past her shift. Same traffic lights that clearly hated pedestrians, but still, something was different. I couldn't quite put my finger on it. There was a lightness I hadn't felt in a long time.
I didn't know what exactly was going on between Lin and me yet. But I knew it was something.
I was halfway through a reply-all email I immediately regretted when Kenji slid into his chair next to mine. Coffee in hand. Smirk fully loaded.
"You overslept," he said, not even bothering to greet me.
"I was on time."
"You look like you're in an anime time skip after falling in love."
I rolled my eyes but smiled despite myself. "What's with you and always turning my life into an anime?"
"Because real life is depressing and anime has better lighting." He leaned in. "So, are we officially entering the dating phase now? Are we writing love letters and giggling in the hallway?"
"It's not like that."
He raised a brow. "Then what is it?"
I paused. "I don't know yet. I don't want to jump into anything and ruin what we have. She said she wants to keep seeing me, and I want that too. Just… without rushing."
Kenji nodded slowly. "That makes sense. You're actually being thoughtful about it. Which, honestly, is terrifying. Who are you and what did you do with my coworker?"
I shot him a look. He sipped his coffee, satisfied.
"For what it's worth," Kenji said, tapping his knuckles on my desk, "you're doing better than you think. And… if you ever need a wingman with a PhD in romance anime tropes—"
"Please don't," I groaned.
Too late. He was already humming the opening theme to Your Lie in April.
Around noon, I went to the shared kitchen to microwave the sad bento I threw together from leftover curry. As I waited for the slow rotation of rice and meat, I heard a familiar voice behind me.
"Hey," came a voice behind me.
Lin. She had on a soft gray sweater, her hair loosely braided over her shoulder. Tired eyes, but a calm smile.
"Hey," I replied, heartbeat steady but a little faster.
She stood beside me, sipping from an iced matcha. "Last night was… nice."
"Yeah. I've been thinking about it all morning."
We stood in silence for a second, a little awkward but comfortable.
"Oh, I forgot to tell you," she said. "I talked to HR."
My stomach tensed.
"I asked them to pause the relocation offer. Just for a bit. I want to see where things go here."
I blinked. "Here… as in the company or…?"
She tilted her head with a playful smile. "Both."
Back at her desk, Kayla glanced over at Lin returning and immediately nudged her chair closer.
"Well?" she whispered.
"I told him about the relocation delay."
"And?!"
"He looked like he wanted to say more but didn't know how," Lin said, tucking her hair behind her ear. "But I think… he was happy."
Kayla grinned. "He better be."
Lin chuckled. "I didn't think I'd get like this again."
"Like what?"
Lin traced the edge of her mug. "Hopeful. Nervous. Stupidly happy when someone texts me."
Kayla reached over and nudged her hand. "You deserve something that feels easy. Doesn't mean it won't take effort. But it shouldn't hurt."
Across the building, Kenji and I were prepping the UX lab for a usability test. The project wasn't glamorous, but it gave us a break from spreadsheets and gave Kenji an opportunity to poke further.
"You ever think about five years from now?" he asked.
"Sometimes."
"Where's Lin in that picture?"
I didn't answer immediately. "I don't know. But I want her there."
"That's a start," he said. "I used to think love was just a timing thing. Like, if it didn't happen in your early twenties, you were too damaged by then to try again."
I looked up. "That's… kind of dark."
"Yeah, well. Lately, I've been thinking that maybe people just get more honest after a few heartbreaks. And that's not a bad place to start."
He glanced toward the hallway window, where Kayla had just walked past.
"She's been talking to me more," he said. "Nothing big, but I don't know. Feels different."
"Maybe it means you should stop quoting anime and actually ask her to lunch."
Kenji arched his brow. "Are you giving me advice now?"
"I'm just passing the responsibility."
Kenji smirked. "Alright, alright. Maybe I will."
The rest of the week moved with a comfortable rhythm. Ramen lunches, collaborative meetings, and whispered jokes in passing between desks. Lin and I didn't rush into anything. But every moment felt a little brighter when she was near.
One evening, we stayed late finishing up a test. Most of the office had already gone home.
"I figured you might need company on the way to the station," Lin said, slipping her bag over her shoulder.
"You figured right."
It had started to drizzle, the pavement catching the glow of the streetlamps. Lin opened her umbrella and held it between us as we walked.
"Isn't it weird how fast things change?" she asked.
"Yeah. One day you're strangers, the next you're…" I trailed off.
She smiled. "I'm glad you gave me company tonight, it feels nice.
"I'm glad too."
That was enough.
By Friday afternoon, the entire team was on edge. Not because of stress, but anticipation. It was the quarterly "Office Harmony Dinner," a lighthearted tradition where different teams came together at a local restaurant to unwind, eat well, and laugh off the weeks of corporate stress.
This quarter, Kayla had suggested the venue: an old school izakaya tucked between a stationery shop and a hidden bookstore in an alley not far from the office. Wood paneled walls, paper lanterns, grilled skewers sizzling behind the counter. It was warm, familiar, and slightly too small for our group which made it perfect.
Kenji got there first and immediately started making friends with the servers. "Party of twenty," he announced. "Try not to judge us by the guy who orders seven side dishes. It's me."
I came in with Lin and Kayla, who were deep in a conversation about Ghibli films. Apparently, Kayla had never seen Spirited Away, and Lin was passionately trying to fix that.
"Wait, wait," Lin said, stopping mid-step. "You've never cried to 'The Name of Life' in a totally unrelated emotional context?"
Kayla shrugged. "I cry to Kiki's Delivery Service. That counts, right?"
"That counts," I offered.
"Barely," Lin muttered.
Kenji jumped in. "All wrong answers, but points for passion."
We all crammed into a long table, knees bumping, drinks being passed around. Luis, true to form, had already ordered sake.
"To leaving our KPIs at the door," he toasted.
"To not knowing what KPIs are!" Kayla added.
"To pretending we care!" Kenji grinned.
I glanced across the table at Lin. Her eyes caught mine. Maybe that was it. Nothing had to be perfect. But in that moment, it felt good to be exactly where I was.
And for once, I wasn't overthinking what came next.
Midway through dinner, after the fourth round of skewers and a petty debate over who deserved the last bacon-wrapped tomato, I slipped away from the table to stretch my legs and refill some water. Kenji followed, as expected.
He nudged my arm. "You know, she hasn't stopped looking at you."
I glanced back.
"Not in a weird stalker way," he clarified. "More like, 'you make my brain stop racing for a second' kind of way."
"You think so?"
"I know so."
I scratched the back of my neck, unsure what to do with the warmth crawling up it. "Still kind of freaks me out. Like it's too good, too fast."
Kenji leaned against the wall by the drink station, his tone dropping.
"Kayla scares me," he admitted.
I blinked. That caught me off guard.
"She's got this- like- way of seeing through all the noise," he continued. "Most people only ever saw the easy version of me. The guy who cracks jokes, makes everything lighter. But she? She notices the cracks. And still sticks around."
I watched him for a second. It wasn't often Kenji said anything that wasn't dressed in sarcasm.
"You gonna do something about it?" I asked.
He nodded slowly. "Yeah. I think I'm done hiding behind punchlines."
Back at the table, things had evolved into chaos. Luis had dragged the interns into some half-serious karaoke battle using a tiny Bluetooth speaker, and somehow our corner of the restaurant turned into a rowdy lounge.
I slipped back into my seat next to Lin.
She leaned in close, her shoulder brushing mine. "Did you and Kenji have a bromance breakthrough?"
"Maybe," I laughed. "What gave it away?"
"You both came back with the same sad philosopher face."
I turned to her. "He was saying something earlier, about the people who make your world feel lighter."
Her expression softened. "Yeah?"
"I think that's what you do for me," I said.
She looked down, quiet. Then, "You do that for me too."
As the night wound down, people began trickling out in groups, waving off tipsy goodbyes and joking about Monday emails. Kayla had pulled Kenji aside to ask if he wanted to share a cab. He said yes with a small nod and a smile that spoke volumes.
Lin and I were the last ones to leave.
The city air had cooled, carrying hints of charcoal smoke, warm concrete, and distant traffic. We walked slowly, without purpose.
"Did you have fun?" I asked.
"Yeah. I forgot what that felt like."
I glanced over.
"In college, I was the one always organizing nights like this. My friends and I, six of us, we did everything together. Games, late-night eats, festivals. We had this rhythm."
"What happened?"
"My boyfriend at the time and I broke up, and suddenly, it wasn't just him I lost. The whole group felt like it fractured. Some people tried to stay neutral, but it was never the same. I think I pulled away more than I realized. Work became safer."
"That sounds rough."
"It was. I lost more than just a relationship. I lost a community. I started building walls. Safe ones. And for a long time, work was my only world."
We walked a little farther in silence, just the soft rhythm of our footsteps between us. The sidewalk quieted beneath our steps.
"But tonight felt like maybe I could have that again. Not the same version. Just something new. Something real."
My heart thudded.
I swallowed the lump in my throat.
"Does that include me?"
She smiled gently. "It already does."
After saying goodbye at the station, I sat on the train holding my phone, still in that afterglow haze. I called Kenji.
He picked up on the first ring.
"Well?"
"It was... kind of incredible."
"Details, man. I want the full rom-com monologue."
We talked the entire ride. Turns out Kenji and Kayla had trailed a few blocks behind us earlier, "just in case you passed out from emotional progress," as he explained.
"You two are insufferable."
"You love it."
"You're... tolerated."
Even with the phone pressed to my ear, I couldn't stop smiling.
Meanwhile...
Lin sat cross-legged on her couch, phone pressed to her ear.
"Spill," Kayla demanded.
"I told him he makes my world feel lighter."
Kayla squealed. "LINNNNN."
"I meant it."
Kayla's voice dropped. "It's good seeing you like this again. Feels like you."
Lin closed her eyes. "Yeah. I think I'm ready to stop being afraid."
Saturday came soft and slow, clouds drifting lazily across the sky. It was the kind of day that practically begged for casual plans and walking shoes.
Kenji texted early.
"Yo. Coffee. Kayla's coming. No bailing. Be human."
I groaned, rolled over in bed, and texted back:
"If this turns into an ambush therapy session, I'm throwing my drink at you."
"Fair."
The café Kayla picked was wedged beneath a dusty record store, tucked behind an alley with chipped signage. It smelled like roasted beans and nostalgia. Tables didn't match, chairs creaked, and a sleepy cat in a sweater blinked at everyone like a judge.
Kayla was in a hoodie two sizes too big, sipping an iced lavender latte like it was a healing potion. Kenji looked like he had barely made it out of bed, but he was grinning anyway.
After we ordered and claimed a window booth, Kenji leaned in.
"Alright," he said, after we settled at the window booth. "Time for the very important question of the day."
He pointed between us. "You have to marry one video game character and live in their world forever. Go."
Kayla didn't miss a beat. "Geralt. But set in a peaceful, Stardew Valley version of The Witcher universe. Farming, but dangerous."
Kenji nodded in admiration. "An unexpectedly well-balanced answer."
"What about you?" I asked.
Kenji sighed dreamily. "Midna from Twilight Princess. Pre-final form."
Kayla gagged on her drink. "You're nasty."
"You asked!"
They kept the banter going. Video game romances turned into movie crushes, then somehow ended up on which Pokémon would be the best roommate.
I mostly listened, letting their comfort pull me out of my own head. It was easy. Easy in a way I hadn't let myself feel for a long time.
At some point, Kayla swiped one of Kenji's muffins. He retaliated by stealing a sip of her drink.
She squinted. "I hate you."
"You say that like it's news," he replied with a lopsided grin.
I looked away, just to give the moment space. Some things grow better that way.
Kenji left after coffee to handle errands, and I wandered into a nearby park, aimless but content. Trees were still mostly green, but some had started shifting. Little flickers of autumn teased the branches.
My phone buzzed. A text from Lin.
"Can I ask you something weird?"
I smiled, thumb hovering.
"Always."
She replied quickly.
"If someone had a chance to move for their career… but they were scared of losing something else… how would you help them decide?"
I stopped walking.
"I'd ask what they want to protect more."
"Even if it meant hurting themselves?"
"Especially then. If it's really worth it, it shouldn't require you to disappear in the process."
A pause.
Then:
"Thank you."
And after that:
"Do you want to come to a gallery with me tomorrow? Quiet one. My favorite place."
My heart did that stupid skip again.
"Absolutely."
Sunday afternoon had that kind of soft gray light that made everything feel slower. The kind of weather where you start thinking about things without meaning to. I met Lin outside a small gallery tucked above a used bookstore and a ramen joint that always smelled like burnt soy sauce. She was already there when I arrived, a scarf loosely wrapped around her neck even though it wasn't cold enough for one.
"Hey," she said.
"Hey."
We went inside together. The gallery didn't have a front desk or a guide. Just a handwritten sign taped to the wall that read "Solitude." The air smelled faintly of wood and paper. The walls were lined with minimalist watercolor paintings, empty chairs by windows, single cups on a kitchen counter, distant figures waiting at bus stops. Everything was quiet, but not heavy. Just still.
"I come here when everything gets too loud," Lin said, keeping her voice low. "It's easier to breathe here."
I glanced over. Her shoulders looked a little less tense than usual.
"I get that," I said. "Sometimes I sit in the stairwell at work longer than I need to. Just for the quiet."
She smiled faintly and pointed to a painting in the corner. A woman sat alone at a desk, her back turned, lit only by the soft glow of a lamp. Everything else such as the floor, the walls, the air around her was gray and cold, except that single circle of light.
"She reminds me of myself," Lin said. "Or... how I used to be."
I waited.
"I was always the person who could be alone. Working through holidays, staying late, finishing what others dropped. I told myself that it made me strong." She paused. "But I think I confused being dependable with being invisible."
She looked at the painting again.
"I got so used to being needed that I forgot what it felt like to be wanted. Not for skills. Just me."
I wasn't expecting the lump in my throat. I swallowed it down. The room around us blurred for a moment.
She turned toward me, eyes glassy.
"I don't want to go to Osaka," she said.
The confession hung in the air.
"They offered me a promotion," she said. "Higher pay, new title. Everyone says I'd be crazy to turn it down."
I didn't say anything.
"But when I thought about leaving, the first face that came to mind wasn't my boss. It wasn't even my family."
I stayed quiet. It didn't feel right to interrupt.
"It was-" she hesitated in speaking the remaining words in her sentence. I didn't want to pry and tried to put my input in after feeling like the time was right to.
"Then don't go," I said.
She looked down, tugging at the edge of her scarf. "It's not that simple."
"I know," I said. "But maybe it's not supposed to be complicated either."
She looked at me, searching. Then nodded.
We stayed in the gallery until the lights dimmed slightly to signal closing time. Neither of us wanted to leave, but she had a train to catch. I walked her to the station. There was silence between us that it was the kind you only get with people who don't feel like strangers anymore.
That night, after walking her to the station, I called Kenji. He picked up with his usual, "Bro, did she propose or what?"
"Shut up," I said, trying not to laugh. "We went to an art gallery."
"Ooooh. Artsy."
"She told me about the Osaka job."
Kenji sobered instantly. "And?"
"She's thinking about turning it down."
Kenji let out a breath. "Then tell her. Before the decision's made for you."
There was a pause, then his voice shifted tone slightly.
"You know, for all the crap I give you... I've seen the way you are with her. You don't just like her. You see her."
I leaned back against the headboard.
"I'm scared," I admitted.
"That's how you know it's real."
Back in her apartment, Lin sat with her laptop open and unread messages from her manager blinking at the top of the screen. She hadn't replied yet. Not because she didn't know how, but because she did, and it scared her.
She picked up her phone and texted Kayla.
"Is it stupid to stay for something you're not sure will last?"
Kayla responded almost instantly.
"No. It's brave."
"If it makes you happy, it's already enough."
Lin stared at the screen, a few tears slipping down before she even noticed them. Then she set her phone down, closed her laptop, and leaned back into the quiet.
The future wasn't decided yet. But for the first time, she felt like maybe it could be hers to choose.