a/n: This (extra-long) chapter has much more time progression than other chapters. It's a slight speed-up into the next story arc (winter break), featuring Christmas and fluff. I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter 11: Sparks

Ren grumbles, rolling over, a square of sunlight smacking her in her face. She rolls back over. Did she forget to close her blinds? She yawns, opening her eyes.

This isn't her room.

Okay. This is Kei's room.

Kei's room, where she cried into his shirt and not only did he not make any sarcastic comments, he reassured her. And they spooned.

"If you're worried about being a burden, you're not."

When she's upset, it's easier for her to feel like she's causing problems for others. Like she's an inconvenience.

She's aware that she's not actually inconveniencing anyone, but the negative feelings are inconvenient to her. Confirmation...

"Relax." He says it casually, like it's the easiest thing in the world, and then his arm snags her and pulls her closer.

She doesn't fight it. She lets herself be pulled into his arms and feels the rise and fall of his chest against her back.

"Go to sleep," he says calmly, letting his arm drape over her. She feels safe.

Ren pulls the sheets over her head and grumbles.

The door opens. "Get up," Kei says.

"Nah," Ren replies, not moving from beneath the sheets.

"So I should eat all the french toast by myself?"

She sits up, hastily throwing the sheets off and running for the door. "You made breakfast?" There are pieces of bread in the fry pan on the stove, but he's blocking her way out of the room. Sidestepping to get around him, she finds herself trapped. "Hey!"

Kei stares pointedly at her, over to the bed, and then back to her.

What, he wants her to make his bed? Alright then. New strategy.

She moves closer, stands on her tiptoes, and presses a kiss to the underside of his jaw. "Good morning," she says sweetly, ducking under his arm and heading into the kitchen, serving up the french toast. Hazarding a glance over her shoulder, she sees him retreat into his room, shutting the door.

It hits her then- the embarrassment, the what the hell was I thinking, doing that? and the I didn't even think about it, did I? Ren feels her cheeks warm and wills them to stop burning before Kei reappears.

Just as she finishes eating, Kei enters the living room. He strides over to the table and hands her his phone without a word. Raising an eyebrow, she accepts it, and notices the call-ongoing symbol. She holds it up to her ear. "Hello?"

"Hi, Ren-chan," Kei's mother says in a soft voice. "How are you?"

"I'm well, thank you, Tsukishima-san. How are you?"

"I'm doing well, dear. Kei tells me you don't have any plans for the holidays?"

Ren winces. "That's not entirely true..."

Kei's mother laughs. "He had a feeling you'd say that."

Is that so? She turns to look at Kei but he avoids her gaze, quietly eating his breakfast.

"Consider this your official invitation to join us for the holidays, Ren-chan."

"Oh." Her mind is swimming with gratitude and reluctance, but she remembers how to use formalities. "I don't know what you have planned, and I don't want to impose-"

"You're not imposing, sweetheart."

Ren sighs, the gratitude outweighing her initial hesitation. "Thank you very much. I'd be happy to join you."

"Good." She can hear Kei's mom smile through the phone. "I'll see you in a couple weeks, then?"

"Two weeks," she replies.

"Alright, dear. Thanks again for looking after Kei."

"It hasn't been a problem."

Kei's mom laughs, and Ren is reminded of the few genuine laughs she's earned from Kei.

"Actually..."

"Yes, dear?"

"Lately, he's been looking after me."

At this, Kei looks up from his breakfast, surprised. She just shrugs. It's true, after all.

"Oh?"

Kei scowls like he can hear his mother's surprise.

"That's good to hear, Ren-chan. Take care. I need to speak to Kei a little more..."

"Take care, Tsukishima-san." Ren hands Kei back his phone, and he hastily disappears back into his room with it.

She should call her parents too, she thinks as she clears the dishes, setting them to soak in the sink.

But first is sorting through what the hell is gravitating her towards Kei.

Ren sits at her desk, her pen hovering over a clean piece of notebook paper. She writes Tsukki's name at the top and then keeps writing without really thinking about it, letting her thoughts flow onto the paper.

Five minutes later she's staring at a disorganized collection of things having to do with Kei. Taking a different color pen, she marks where the thoughts begin and end, separating them into a slightly more understandable string of words.

Responsible, trustworthy even with that perpetual smirk of his/
feels safe, warm despite cool exterior/perceptive to the point where it's almost annoying/
strawberry shortcake/
ridiculously intelligent, makes me want to kick him in his smart ass/
taller than just about everyone else I know, if I was any shorter I'd have to really peer up at him/
blocks incredibly well/
has long fingers like the kind pianists wish for/
music is important to him, to both of us/
it was how we got to know each other, how we became friends in the first place/
sometimes after I've gone to bed he'll murmur lyrics, maybe even sing a little/
it makes me wonder how many bands we wouldn't have discovered if not for each other/
listens to me, understands me, respects me, and somehow manages to do that and tease me and have it not get on my nerves all that much- I don't know how he does it/
he wouldn't live with me if he didn't like me, and vice versa/
it would be lonely without him/
what happens when we go off to college- no, don't think about that/
think about how many times you've fallen asleep on him without him shrugging you off/
how reassuring he's been/
how accepting he actually is, with the team and with me/
how he didn't pity me after I told him about my past/
how he let me know he cared without being obtrusive or invasive/
has heard me cry/
helps me, even by attempting to make tempura soba/
is kind but doesn't want to admit it/
cares about me/
I care about you too, I've cared for a long time-

Reading her last thought again, she's found the clarity she wanted. She's also determined that "care about" is an understatement. The lingering thought of now what? sticks in her brain and she sighs, turning to look out her window. Her eyes slide to her phone.

Her mother picks up on the first ring. "Hi, sweetie."

"Morning, mom." Pinning the phone to her ear with her shoulder, she clears off her desk, bringing out her sketching pencils.

"How are you?"

She looks up at her wall, pencil in hand, and narrows her eyes at the die. "Mom, it's happening again."

After convincing her mother that yes, she's fine- safe even, thanks to Kei- and no, calling the police isn't going to help matters right now, and yes, she'll let them know if anything else happens, she's finally able to bring up winter break.

"Mom, there's been a slight change in holiday plans."

"Yes?"

"I'm spending Christmas with the Tsukishimas."

There's a slight pause before her mom responds. "Are you sure?"

"Yep, it's fine. You and dad worry about Singapore, and I'll worry about going to Kei's house."

"Kei?"

Ren resists the urge to roll her eyes. "You know, the guy I share an apartment with?"

"What happened to Tsukki?"

"Mom, both names refer to the same person."

Her mom laughs knowingly. "Yes, I'm aware."

"Hey mom?"

"Yes?"

Ren hesitates. Once she says it aloud... "I think I like him." There, that wasn't terrible.

"Okay."

Okay? "Any advice?"

Her mom sighs. "Ren, lily... you're selfless. If he makes you want to be a bit more selfish, be just that."

Be selfish with Kei? She can do that. "Thanks mom."

"You're welcome, lily. Let me know how it goes!"

"Mhm." A simple, sarcastic reply is a good idea right now. "Bye mom, I love you."

"We love you too, Ren. Talk to you soon."

She's left with the dial tone and a slightly more detailed sketch of the phoenix, and looks out the window again.

With the way things have been going, being a little more selfish can't hurt.

The next day, Kei finds oyakodon in his bento, along with strawberries. He side-eyes her suspiciously in front of Tadashi, but she shrugs, grins, and says, "it's not poisoned" before eating her sushi.

(This suggests Ren made the oyakodon just for him, but that can't possibly be right.)

He comes home to her singing something, earbuds in and running the vacuum cleaner around the apartment. Upon noticing him, she turns off the vacuum and pulls out her earbuds. She walks over to him, stands on her tiptoes and lightly hugs him, saying, "welcome home" like she usually does.

But it's different.

Later that night, when he's listening to music and working on homework, Ren taps on the door to his room. "Is it okay if I read in here?" she asks nonchalantly.

He's surprised but doesn't mind. Shrugging, he slips his headphones back over his ears while she lounges on his bed, flipping on another lamp.

He finds himself sneaking looks at her while she's reading, catching her smiling at her book, covering her mouth with her hand at something funny, and eventually, a hearty laugh at something.

Their eyes meet. Her expression is sheepish but soft. It's a look that draws him to her. He sighs (the work isn't due for a while, and it's not getting done with her here) and turns off his laptop, ducking into his bathroom to brush his teeth. When he comes out, she's gone, back to her own room.

He shouldn't miss her when she's just a room away.

On Wednesday, she comes into the gym when practice is still going. Kei's working with the first years again- their blocking has improved, but not all that substantially yet. It's a trying process. Most of them have the form down, which is a relief. Read blocking is a lot harder to teach.

"Need a hand?" She asks, suddenly next to him.

"They're trying to read block."

"Ah." She grimaces. "Hold on." She ducks under the net to speak to the first years. "Yo. You guys better not be complaining that read blocking is too hard."

"It is complicated," one of them admits.

"Well, yes. Predicting the course of the ball isn't easy. But if you can read the team, the setter, or the players, it's pretty easy to figure out."

"And you're an expert on reading people?" another asks.

"I've done aikido for almost six years. So, to answer your question, sort of." She glances over at him, winks (that should not be allowed) and goes back to speaking to the team. "You have to be observant. Where is the setter looking? Where are his hands going? Based on who caught the receive, who is likely to spike? Based on their body language, where is the spike going? If you can't tell from them, consider where your side is vulnerable? How fast can you react?"

"That's a lot of things to think about," one says, frowning.

"Well, each time you make a play, that's what's in the way of you getting the next point." She straightens up, turning back to him. "Should I try to block them?" she asks innocently.

"You don't even play volleyball!"

"Then you should be able to spike past me just fine. Kei?"

He comes closer, volleyball in hand.

"I'll block with you," she says. Turning back to the first years, she grins. "Any play you want." To him, she says, "I'm goading them into improving." When he raises an eyebrow, she continues. "It works wonders."

Kei knows she's ridiculously good at reading people, and she's definitely pushing at a sore spot for them. "You know they're not going to like you after this," he mutters.

"I don't need them to like me." She rolls her shoulders, cracking her neck. "If they want to learn read blocking, they need to respect and apply the concept, and soon. They shouldn't just see it as something they'll get the hang of in two years."

His thoughts exactly.

The first years attempt their play, with Kei taking the right side of the court and Ren taking the left. She's been to enough of his games to pick up the correct blocking form. They target her, of course. (Which is good, since he's quite content watching her jump. The flash of skin he sees when her shirt rides up is just a bonus.) The ball bounces off her forearm and hits the floor on the first years' side.

After their initial shock wears off, they ask more targeted questions, occasionally shooting Ren glares as she leaves to talk to Yachi. By the time practice ends, Kei is amused (but not really all that surprised) by the looks of determination on their faces.

Ren holds up her forearm. "It'll be a gross yellow-green by tomorrow," she says, frowning. "I hope they bombard you with questions when I won't be around to answer them."

"With your luck, you'll be there and have to answer them."

"Hey!"

Next week. They're working on their homework together at the table, and he can feel Ren's eyes on him.

"What?" he eventually asks, catching her with the top of her pen pressing into her cheek.

"Stop distracting me," she complains, her pen sliding to rest in the corner of her mouth.

He raises an eyebrow. "What am I doing that's so distracting?"

"You. Are. Being. Ughhhhhh." She slumps onto her side of the table, blinking up at him. She's... smirking? "Cute."

What did she just say?

His chest tightens- not with irritation at being called cute of all things, but almost painfully with the hope that she's being honest. Channeling nonchalance, he replies, "what?" and attempts to focus back on his textbook.

She pushes his glasses up on his nose with her finger, leaning over the table so their faces are suddenly very close. "I said," she repeats, coffee eyes flashing, "you are being cute." And then she sits back down, bending her head over her notebook, like that didn't just happen.

Kei looks back at his textbook, attempting to keep his expression blank while pretending to be reading it. His ribcage seems to loosen its hold on his lungs, and he glances back over at her.

He ends up staring. (An accident, surely.)

Her fingertips drum the tabletop as she frowns, caught up in her schoolwork again. Drum. Drum. A rhythm that turns into something like a song.

He taps his fingers against the table in response. What will she do?

Ren shifts her left hand closer to his hand, drumming her fingers again. Drum. His fingers stay where they are.

Drum. Her fingers, slightly closer.

The day after that, Kei offers to help with dinner. Ren asks him to measure out the rice and to chop up the onion.

"Two cups?" he asks.

"Two and a half," she answers, pulling the beef out of the fridge to snag the eggs.

"Wasabi?"

"EEH?"

He snorts. "...kidding."

"Should I ask you to leave the kitchen?" She threatens, but she doesn't look mad.

"You'd miss me." He grins as she rolls her eyes, noticing the light pink on her cheeks.

"I'd be able to cook in peace."

"You'd miss me," he tries again.

Ren side-eyes him while slicing the fish. "Only a little," she mutters, turning back to the cutting board before pointing the end of her knife in his direction. "Don't get full of yourself," she threatens. "Only a little."

Later that week- she's back.

Ren peers around his open door (which he did not leave open on purpose, hoping she would come in). "I'm coming in," she announces quietly, shuffling over to his bed and crawling into the sheets with her e-reader this time instead of a paperback.

Kei holds up a CD. "Do you mind?"

She looks over and shakes her head. "You can play it on the speakers," she says, going back to reading.

The sound of the piano flows softly into the room, and instead of working, he finds himself listening. When he looks over at Ren, he finds that she's set her e-reader aside and closed her eyes.

"Kei?" she says softly.

"Mm?" He heads over to the bed, lying down next to her.

"What if I'd picked piano instead of aikido?"

"You'd be in the music club instead of the aikido club."

She lets out a small laugh, rolling her eyes. "That's not what I meant." Her fingers hover over invisible keys, and she pretends to play.

"You can't flip people over with a piano."

A genuine laugh this time. "I suppose," she says, getting up.

You don't have to leave, he thinks. Let me indulge in your presence a little longer. "Turning in for the night?" he says instead.

"Mhmm," she replies around a yawn. Giving a little wave, she heads out of his room. "Night, Kei."

"Night, Ren," he says to her vanishing back.

The next night is the same- she leaves before he can say something even remotely suggesting she could stay.

I never said you had to go.

He's left staring at his now vacant bed, the temptation to go after her rising like a wave. Instead of cresting and thundering ashore, he directs the current back into the depths. The action forces him to consider what he wants (Ren to stay) and consider yet again what it means (a relationship with her).

Kei throws his elbow over his eyes, grumbling. "Tch."

Mid-October of his second year. Despite his hesitancy towards Ren, he finds himself moving closer to her, ever so slowly. Instead of studying separately in their own rooms, they study at the table in the living room. In any case, it's quiet. She reviews for English while he works on classical literature, he works on math while she works on science. They never end up working on the same thing at the same time.

It's a day after a long practice when he arrives home to the scent of strawberries and cake. The apartment is cool from the open living room window, but the leftover warmth from the baking remains. A pleasant combination, one that Kei finds soothing.

Ren emerges from her room, her hair wrapped up in a towel. She doesn't startle when she sees him, just offers him a "welcome home" and heads over to the kitchen.

"Aihara."

She keeps walking into the kitchen but turns her head over her shoulder. "Yeah?"

"Where are the strawberries?"

She stops, her nose scrunching in confusion before her face relaxes and she breaks out into laughter. "They're in the cupcakes, Tsukki," she replies, picking up a container off the counter and holding it up to him.

Strawberry preservatives.

"I saw a video of an American baking show where they used it in the cupcakes and wanted to try it?"

It sounds more like a question than it should be, since the cupcakes have already been made. His gaze is drawn over to the pan cooling on the stove next to her. "Are they ready to eat?"

"No." Her reply isn't rushed but is clearly adamant. "Let me frost one for you." She turns without waiting for his reply and pulls the frosting over, taking a cupcake from the pan, unwrapping it, and setting it on a plate. She places a blob of frosting in the center and spreads it out evenly with the knife before sliding the plate in his direction. After a moment, she holds out a fork.

He moves to take a step forward but realizes he hasn't taken off his shoes. Hastily sliding them off and discarding his school bags on the floor, he walks quietly into the kitchen and takes the fork out of her hands.

The cupcake is soft, the vanilla frosting smooth. Just above lukewarm, a good temperature. The burst of flavor comes from the strawberries.

Kei looks over to Ren. "Is it good?" she asks, her voice quiet.

Is it good? Of course it's good. Delicious, even. There's something about it that makes him want to write a poem about it- rather, reminds him of several bits and pieces of songs, all at once.

He wants to ask why. Why is Ren's cooking so good? Why did she bake cupcakes in the middle of October? Why did she use strawberry jam instead of raspberry or another fruit? Why did she have to frost it before she gave it to him? Why does it seem like it's a reflection of him? Why is he concerned with all these nuances?

"You haven't tried it?" he asks instead, surprised that she hasn't tasted her own cooking, especially since it's a new recipe.

She shrugs, scratching the back of her neck. "Not yet." Then she looks up at him with those damn coffee eyes. "So how is it?"

It's so good that he's going to tease her instead of being honest. "Terrible."

She raises an eyebrow and pokes him in the nose. "Fine." Her voice is oddly sour. "Kiss your dreams of strawberry shortcake goodbye." She smiles brightly, takes the plate and fork from him, and- is she moving to throw the cupcake away?

"Ren." He says her name (why her first name?) forcefully enough for her to stop and turn back towards him. "You know I love-" (why is the next word he wants to say you?) "your cooking," he continues flawlessly, though his pulse is racing.

Her smile, now genuine, hits him like a punch to the gut. Well, quite like a punch, except softer and not from the outside. Not quite in the gut, either. It's like his heart crept to the edge of his ribcage, peered out, and then tripped in its haste to get back, the impact disrupting his insides.

No, he most definitely does not want to kiss her. Nor is he in love with her.

"Good to know," she says, setting the plate on the counter. "So you do want oyakodon for dinner tonight?"

Okay, maybe he is, just a little bit.

"...Yes."

Well, shit.

He's studying at the table when she emerges from her room in her sweats and one of his hoodies. (Again, it should not be allowed.) She has her e-reader tucked under her arm and is tying off her hair into a braid.

Instead of sitting across the table or lying on the cushions, she sits down next to him and rests her head on his leg, her eyes trained on the screen.

When he's finished his work (which he could this time, because she's extremely unobtrusive), she follows him into his room and takes over his bed.

It's maybe an hour later when she yawns loudly, twice in succession, throws his sheets off herself and stands.

"Turning in?"

"Yep," she replies, standing and heading for the door. "I'll be right back."

She's coming back?

A few minutes later, she returns, smelling faintly of toothpaste and dressed in sweatpants and yet another old shirt of his. She curls up on the edge of his bed, turning out the light. "Night, Kei."

He takes a deep breath before replying. "Night, Ren."

a/n: yes it's happening. Ren and Kei are happening. Ren is attempting to flirt/tease back at Tsukki. Sue me. (Please don't actually. He deserves it. Especially from her, because he likes her.)

Also, the moms know what's up. They're air high-fiving each other. Probably.

Please let me know what you think!

(P.S. Please let me know if you spot any grammar mistakes. Thanks!)