Akira's apartment was the antithesis of what anyone would expect from a high-profile prosecutor. There were no feminine touches, no "girlish" clutter, and certainly no warmth. It was a space defined by cold efficiency—simple, compact, and functional. As Akira led Macau Maki toward the guest room, the silence of the hallway felt like a heavy curtain.
"You can stay here," Akira said, her voice dropping into its usual professional monotone. Macau stepped inside, surprised to find the room impeccably clean, despite its sterile vibe. A wide, genuine smile broke across Macau's face. "Thanks, Boss! You're a lifesaver."
"Freshen up quickly," Akira replied, already turning back toward the kitchen. "Dinner will be ready soon."
The "Perfect" Meal
A few minutes later, Macau emerged in comfortable casuals, her nose twitching as she looked for the source of a scent. She looked at the table and blinked. "So... when is the delivery guy coming?"
Akira's brow furrowed. "What delivery?"
"The... dinner?" Macau gestured weakly at the table.
"This is dinner," Akira stated, her voice like ice. On the table sat two bowls of Corn Soup and a plate of Bread Omelets.
Macau let out a dry laugh. "Wow, what a feast. I think I'll be full just by looking at the soup."
Akira didn't blink. "There's still time. You're free to find another place to stay."
Macau immediately took a sip, her eyes widening. "Wait... wow! This is actually incredible. Best soup I've ever had!"
They ate in a strange, rhythmic silence, but as they finished, one bowl of soup remained untouched on the table. "Who's finishing this?" Macau asked, patting her stomach.
"I'm out," Akira said.
"Me too," Macau sighed.
"Then take it down and throw it in the garbage," Akira commanded. Macau wanted to protest—wasting such good food felt like a crime—but one look at Akira's cold expression silenced her. She picked up the bowl and headed out.
Delivery Dilemma
As Macau stepped into the corridor, she saw a delivery man looking utterly lost. "Is there a problem?" she asked.
"I'm looking for Dr. Sato," the man said, checking his phone. "I've been working overtime, and I think I lost the apartment number. The system only gives us temporary contact numbers for White Frost residents for privacy."
Macau looked at the five apartments on the floor. An idea sparked. She quickly ducked back into Apartment 42, set the soup bowl down on the counter, and came back out. "I'll help you."
They started at Apartment 41—a software engineer who dismissed them instantly. When they reached 42, Macau skipped it, knowing it was Akira's. Then 43—no luck. Finally, they reached Apartment 44. As Macau was about to turn away, the door opened.
There stood Naea.
Macau's heart did a little skip. "Did you order dinner?" she asked, her voice brightening.
"Yes," Naea smiled, nodding. The delivery was made, the payment settled, and the man left after thanking Macau profusely. Now, it was just the two of them.
"We met downstairs, remember?" Macau asked. Naea nodded politely. "Do you need something?"
"Actually... yes!" Macau blurted out. "I made some corn soup. Would you like to try it?" She looked at Naea with such hopeful, puppy-dog eyes that Naea couldn't bring herself to say no.
"Sure," Naea said.
"Follow me!" Macau grabbed Naea's hand to lead her, but Naea immediately, yet calmly, pulled back.
"I don't like being touched," Naea said, her voice bold and steady.
"Oh! Sorry, no problem!" Macau smiled, undeterred.
Collision in Apartment 42:
They walked the short distance to Apartment 42. There was no nameplate on the door—Akira had been too "busy" (or perhaps too guarded) to ever put one up. Naea assumed this was Macau's place.
Inside, Akira had noticed the soup bowl was back. Thinking Macau had changed her mind, she had reheated it. Just as she set the steaming bowl on the table, her phone rang. She ducked into her bedroom to take the call.
Macau led Naea to the table. "Here, try this." Naea set her own delivery bag down and took a spoonful. "It's really good," she admitted.
"Right? My coordinator chef, Akira Mijustsi, made it!" Macau chirped.
The name hit the air like a lightning bolt. Akira stepped out of her room at that exact moment, freezing as she saw Naea sitting at her table, eating the soup she had made for her that morning. Akira's heart hammered against her ribs, but her face remained a mask of stone.
Naea didn't stop eating. Like a well-behaved child, she finished the bowl. Macau looked at Akira and winked. "See? I found someone worthy of your cooking."
Akira didn't react. "I'm going to sleep. Goodnight," she said, turning away.
"Wait!" Macau called out. "Naea, tomorrow is Sunday. Are you free?"
Akira's footsteps slowed to a crawl.
"Yes, I am," Naea replied.
"Awesome! There's this great anime movie. Want to watch it together tonight? It'll be fun!"
In her head, Akira smirked. Naea? Watching anime? She doesn't even like movies. She'll say no.
"Sure," Naea said. "I should finish my dinner while we watch."
Akira's jaw practically dropped. She felt a surge of irrational anger—how had Macau become "friends" with Naea so fast? She desperately wanted Macau to ask her to stay.
"Wait," Macau said, "Akira is going to sleep. If we watch here, we'll wake her up. Naea, can we go to yours?"
"Of course," Naea smiled.
Akira couldn't take it. "I won't be disturbed," she said, without turning around. "You can watch it here."
Macau beamed. "Akira, if you aren't sleepy, why don't you join us?"
"Fine," Akira snapped, instantly turning back.
Movie Night Tension :
They sat on the couch: Akira on one end, Macau in the middle, and Naea on the other. Akira put on Suzume. As the movie played, they ate and watched in a thick, charged atmosphere.
Halfway through, Macau's head tilted and landed on Akira's shoulder. She was fast asleep. Naea noticed it, and for some reason, a tiny, sharp thorn of irritation pricked her heart. She ignored it and reached for a tissue on the table. As she did, her hand brushed a glass, sending it teetering toward her injured leg.
In a flash, Akira moved. With a speed that seemed impossible, she caught the glass before it hit Naea. The sudden movement jolted Macau, who grunted in her sleep and rolled over into Akira's previous spot, leaving Akira now sitting directly next to Naea.
The air between them turned hot. Akira felt as if someone had lit a fire in the room. Naea, however, remained focused on the screen.
"You must be very happy today," Akira whispered, her voice so low it was almost a ghost of a sound. "After having breakfast with Kenji."
Naea didn't miss a beat. "He showed up uninvited," she replied.
Akira's heart skipped. She hadn't expected an answer, let alone one that cleared the air. Her ears felt hot.
"Do you even like movies?" Akira asked.
"Sometimes," Naea end-capped the conversation.
"Macau is crazy, isn't she?"
"No," Naea corrected. "She's just an extrovert."
Akira nodded, a small "hmm" escaping her.
Then, Naea turned the tables. "This morning... you came by without ringing. You were holding something. Then you just left."
Akira took a breath. She decided, for once, to tell the truth. "I came to check on your leg. I brought a healthy meal. But when I got to the door, I felt something 'fishy,' so I used the code. Then I saw... and I left."
She looked at Naea, waiting for a reaction. Naea met her gaze for a second, then stood up. "The movie isn't over," Akira said.
"We'll finish it another time," Naea said softly, walking toward the door. She didn't even realize what she had replied—that there would be another time.
Quiet Victory :
After Naea left, Akira turned off the TV. She went to the guest room, grabbed a blanket, and tucked Macau into the couch properly. "Thank you," Akira whispered with a rare, tiny smile. Thank you for giving me that time with her.
As she lay in her own bed, Akira replayed Naea's words: He showed up uninvited. A wave of relief washed over her. Naea hadn't chosen him. She hadn't asked for him to be there. With that thought, the "Ice Queen" finally drifted into a peaceful sleep.