vi. six;

With no real plans today, Asuka is calmly in her kitchen, seated at the dining table and peeling some of the mandarin oranges from yesterday. Her book has been bookmarked next to her as she peels because it's certainly not a good idea to let the juice splatter on the pages.

She hears purring and sees Judai carrying Pharaoh with him to the living room. There is a dull ache in her heart from seeing him, but she figures it's a feeling she will just have to get used to because reality is about moving on. After all, life has its lemons. These lemons must be used somehow, so she'll make lemonade. It'll be sugarless, but it's better than letting these metaphorical lemons gather dust. So she sits there and continues peeling.

"Morning," he mumbles, setting Pharaoh on the floor. He also sits on the floor and doesn't look very motivated to do much. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and she notices a few dark dots like he'd been splattered with water. She supposes that's why there is a towel around his shoulders.

Fueled by irrevocable guilt, Asuka tries to smile warmly. It's not in her intentions at all to cause this; the guilt is hot like searing coffee in her stomach. Her mood had been slightly better last night because she and Fubuki had talked about how he was doing back in Japan before they reminisced on her previous birthdays when they were both children. (She wonders if they were loud enough for Judai to overhear, because Fubuki laughed a lot and she felt like she was doing a poor job of laughing back.)

But obviously, reality just doesn't want her to be happy anymore, so it means that she isn't allowed to have a good mood or good day or good anything right now. Still, she fights this irony with a genuine: "Good morning, Judai." Today is another day, and it should be good. Good for her and good for him. Good. Her eyes drift back to her oranges. "I forgot to peel these yesterday. You can help yourself to some if you want," she offers kindly.

"That's okay," he politely declines, idly scratching Pharaoh behind the ears. He doesn't even look at her.

Asuka gives him a hurt look (a glance, a glimpse, a flicker; it still sort of hurts, so she can't look at him too long) before she quietly sighs to herself, tapping her nails against the orange skin. He had been rather enthusiastic about the oranges yesterday before he took her out to the balcony...

"I see you finally found Pharaoh. Where was he hiding at?" she tries again, conversational. Her pace with the peeling has slowed drastically ever since she saw him walk in.

He sounds more like a drone than sounding like Judai: "Under my bed." Then he stops, rectifying with less drone-like words, "Found him sleeping while being covered in cobwebs." Pharaoh twitches his ear and lets Judai scratch his chin.

Meekly smiling, she replies, "I hope it wasn't a pain to clean him."

The bathroom had been occupied earlier a bit after she woke up, and she had noticed the purrs and muttering that erupted from within. If things hadn't grown awkward, she would have laughed by then. Maybe she could have even knocked on the door and offered to help. Maybe they could've made a soapy mess in her bathroom with Pharaoh and laugh. Could have. What could've been.

She starts peeling the third orange to distract herself.

"He kept squirming and wriggling," he replies, and she can pick up some very faint amusement. That's a good sign, even if that amusement sounded lackluster at best. "He ran off when I came with the shampoo earlier."

"I have cat shampoo?" She peels the other half of this third orange.

He shows a tiny smile. It makes her feel distant and a little sad because he used to smile so broadly and openly at her. Thinking about his smiles right now makes her heart lurch, pained. "I bring my own since there's obviously no cat shampoo if I'm in the middle of nowhere."

Halfheartedly, she hums a response. The air is still so thick and awkward despite her attempts to maintain some of the normalcy they had once shared. Even a lighthearted topic like cat shampoo can't really help salvage anything right now.

Finished with her peeling, Asuka sets the three wholly-peeled oranges on a plate and takes one for herself. She still has much more oranges left in the fridge, but she's suffocating in this room.

She grabs the roll of plastic wrap and covers the remaining oranges with it. "I'll leave these here for you, in case you change your mind." She opens her fridge and slides the plate of oranges inside, and she hopes her feigned bravery can last a bit longer as she shuts the fridge door quickly.

Not looking at him, Asuka grabs her book and orange before quickly trotting past him to her room because she hates this burning anxiety in her chest caused by this silence anchoring in between them: this uncomfortable rift where his smiles don't really seem real anymore and her world dulled a bit.

It's not because she feels eyes on her back the moment she walks past him and the gaze lingers until she closes her door, like everything is slowly falling apart and they both know it. It's not. It's not.

(Her heart says: It is.)

.

.

She spends two hours reading in her room, reading at a slower pace than usual so that her book could help chip at some of the time today. When she looks at the cover, familiarity floods through her veins. This is the same book she had taken with her when she and Judai went fishing. Twice.

Suddenly, she starts feeling very wistful and feels herself yearning for more moments where he could just fish while she reads, or moments where they would just talk. They could always talk to each other so easily, and now she can hardly say anything at all without feeling suffocated.

At least he hasn't left yet, she thinks, optimistically. Partially to cheer herself up, but also because she thinks it really is something to note.

A week had passed since he visited her this time, and if she's being honest, Asuka thought he would've left again after her birthday because of what happened. He had told her prior that he's staying for two weeks this time, but there were times where he'd leave early. She always lets him go because she knows he would come back eventually. He'd take months, but he still comes back. But this time—

Having some courage, she exits her room and steps into the hallway. It's still the afternoon, but she had already grown a little antsy after finishing her book. She needs a distraction, so she had thought of cleaning. And her cleaning supplies are unfortunately past the living room, where Judai usually hangs out in her apartment.

Silence greets her the moment she opens her door, and she isn't sure if she misses hearing pro-duels playing on her television or not because at least she'd know there is activity here. His door is literally right there, right in front of her, but she can't find it in herself to tap it with the softest of knocks or even let her fingers brush across the handle. Instead, she clenches her fingers and exhales to herself and thinks: I'll give him space. So, she continues her day.

The moment she reaches the broom closet near the front door, she sighs in relief.

His shoes are missing.

At first, she really did think he left for good—but she sees his blazer still hung at the coat rack and that's all she needs to know that he's still here. His attachment to Osiris and Duel Academia is very loyal. It's safe to assume that his bag and belongings are still in the guest bedroom, and he would also never leave Pharaoh behind either. He merely left.

It lingers in her head: Why wouldn't he leave?

He's clearly still uncomfortable around her. The tension had been suffocating for him too, she could tell. What is keeping him here? He had no problems leaving before, because she would know it's something urgent and he knows her to a point where he trusts her to know that he leaves for a reason.

Although, that was before she messed up.

Shaking her head, Asuka grabs a feather duster and a dustpan after tying her hair up.

She loves him and can be worried for him, but he doesn't love her, nor is he obligated or required to let her know where he goes. He could've still let her know as a friend—but really, she thinks she already crossed the line too far for that to happen now. He locked her out of his world, so she should respect that. Even if it makes her feel crestfallen, even if it jabs her heart that she might have lost some of his trust, she should respect his decisions. She's fair.

She'll just wait. He'll come around if he wants to. That's all there is to it, she supposes.

That dust won't clean itself, so she starts going back to the living room to commence dusting.

.

.

Judai comes back two more hours later while she is mopping the living room floorboards.

Due to her reading, she isn't sure how long he's been gone today. All she knows is that it's been really quiet today, for the most part, aside from Pharaoh's yawning. It's been a rather lonely day of unrequired cleaning just so she can keep her mind from straying, a day of mindless humming and thinking about things that are not involved with He-Who-Broke-Her-Heart. Monotonous, but peaceful like every other day. She'd normally be content with that because that's how her days always go by for herself, but it's not the same this time.

He regards her thoughtfully after closing the door and says a tentative, "I'm back." (Maybe reality felt pity on her, so it made him talk to her? She won't overlook it, really.)

When she looks at him, Asuka notices that he has his fishing rod held over his shoulder and can easily conclude where he had been at. "Welcome back," she absently smiles at him, resuming her mopping. She tries her best to look friendly and unbothered. "How did fishing go?" She's a little bit hopeful that his time outside had freshened him up and gave back some energy to revitalize him.

"Better than before," Judai remarks, removing his shoes. He seems to be accepting her attempts at conversation this time. That's good.

Experimentally, she teases with a tentative: "No trouts this time?" Asuka carefully moves her low table aside so she can mop the area underneath it.

"No." She's a little disappointed by his simple answer, but he offhandedly adds, using a lighter tone, "I think it's because you weren't there this time. Probably didn't find me interesting enough by myself."

That sounds more like him. Maybe if she keeps it up, things can go back to normal. The way that everything is supposed to be. "Am I supposed to be sorry for it?" she replies, moving her low table back to its spot. "I would've seen this as a good thing. Less laundry for me to do."

"I see you have your priorities all set," he rolls his eyes. Maybe the fresh air really did help him if he's willing to joke around with her again? Judai eyes the floor unsurely. "Can I walk across here, or are you still mopping?"

Asuka looks at where he is standing. "It should be dry—" He starts walking, but he abruptly slips with his socks on and falls forward. He flails his arms up so he probably won't end up breaking his fishing rod. (She would think not breaking a bone would matter more.) "—but I could be wrong…" she lamely finishes, cringing very apologetically and looking horrified.

It has not even been five minutes since he came back.

"Asukaaaaaa," whines Judai from the floor, voice muffled as he lies face down, looking like he's gravely embracing his misery of being defeated by wet floorboards. Involuntarily, she jumps and lets out a small awkward laugh because she doesn't know how else to react. "I heard that," he says casually, not even bothering to turn his head to regard her in the eyes as he lies there, body flatly pressed into her once-clean floorboards that she cleaned up not even twenty minutes ago.

For a moment, the world is silent and trapped in unmoving suspense. Pharaoh doesn't yawn, the clock doesn't tick, Judai lies there on her floorboards like a murder victim, and Asuka is merely frozen as she apprehensively watches him.

He really plays the part of Anguished Victim flawlessly the more he lies there. His fingers tap on the floor, playing some light rhythmic tune that seems to betray his projected misery. She wonders how much thinking he did with his time outside because he seems to be eager right now to help ward off this awkwardness they've had since last night.

"You didn't let me finish," she tells him lightly, leaning against the couch for safety. "Are you hurt?" Asuka kneels by him, careful of the water.

Carefully, Judai lifts his head and props himself up with his forearms. She feels a bit guilty for the slight water stains on the front of his turtleneck. There are probably some on his pants too. Fortunately, there are no soapsuds. He rubs his jaw. "I don't know. Do I look hurt? I don't have a mirror."

He can still talk properly, so at least he didn't damage his teeth from that blow to the chin. Her fingers absently brush against his chin and she eyes the slight redness staining her index finger. "Just a little bit of blood on your chin." Bravely, Asuka manages to muster enough courage to offer a hand with a smile. "I have a first aid kit in the bathroom."

To her surprise, all he does is nod and wordlessly accepts her hand as he stands up, bringing his rod over his shoulder. On the inside, she is hopeful the moment he accepts her hand because the touch is tentative, like he still wants to trust her.

.

.

"Hold still," complains Asuka exasperatedly, pressing a wet towel to his chin. She had forced him to sit on top of the closed toilet seat so she can tend to him, but he keeps squirming. A sigh, then an agitated: "Judai!"

"It hurts when you apply it, Asuka!" he complains back. Judai is about to touch his bruise with a finger, but she swats it away.

She chides strictly, "It'll get infected more if you touch it." He sighs in resignation, defeatedly slumping his shoulders. She would say something about how he's being dramatic, but it was she who mopped the floor and it was him who slipped: two guilty parties, but only she is blamed. Finally, she gives up with the towel and leaves it on the sink, taking the rubbing alcohol and a cotton ball instead. "This will sting and I will—" Asuka has on her best no-nonsense face that her students grimace at. "—force you to clean with me if you squirm while I apply it."

Her so-called threat makes him sulk, like the world is completely against him lately. She could've strongly objected to that because it wasn't his heart that she broke on his birthday, but it's still pretty brutal to let her floor inflict bodily harm to his chin. Nevertheless, she congratulates herself on the victory, but only momentarily. If only rubbing alcohol and cotton balls could heal all the damage her heart took during yesterday.

He-Who-Broke-Her-Heart mutters, "Scary…" He tilts his head back for her and she can see some of the blood gone, thanks to her towel, but there are still some stains leftover caused by his squirming. (Just for the comment, she applies an extra amount of alcohol onto the cotton ball.)

"I'm going to apply it now," she warns, slowly pressing the cotton ball against his chin gently. He squares his shoulders, writhing a little, but it's a better improvement than the earlier squirming. Taking a band-aid, Asuka peels off the protective film strips. "I'm putting the band-aid on you." He grunts a response, stiff. The tips of her fingers brush against his skin when she applies the band-aid, and she ignores the sting it does to her heart. "You're good to go."

He lowers his chin, stretching his neck. "Finally. Remind me to never step out again if you're mopping." It's like tension never existed in this moment. Maybe all they really needed was a push from both ends.

Asuka sighs while she packs the rubbing alcohol and leftover cotton balls away. "Maybe if someone had been home early, this could've been avoided."

He awkwardly shuts up, furrowing his brow and averting his eyes. The un-Judai actions make her wonder if she messed up somewhere again so soon. "Why do you keep saying that?" he finally asks, tentative and something else that she cannot interpret.

"Say what?" Asuka opens the mirror cabinet to stash the first aid kit away.

A bit stiff, Judai carefully answers, "Home."

She feels like something will happen if she doesn't keep track of what she says next. "What about home?" She lives here, so it would make sense for her to say that. What's wrong? Is it the context? The connotation?

"You keep using that word with me," he quietly comments, drumming his fingers on the closed toilet seat he's still seated on. (If he's sitting like this, she is once again the taller one. Once upon a time, she was taller and he was shorter and things between them were so normal. Where did those days go?) While he fumbles, she listens: "The way you say it… You say it like I— Actually, nevermind." Self-consciously, he lowers his head and ruffles his hair in frustration.

An uncertain pang jolts through her nerves, startled. She actually never knew that before, that she kept referring to this place as 'home' with him. She really didn't. He's always here so often that it feels natural to see him all the time in her apartment.

Judai usually stays for about a week to two weeks' timespan with her, so the large gap of time in-between left her with a feeling of familiarity whenever she sees him lounging around. It made her get used to the sight of him in her place, sort of like that familiarity she felt back at Duel Academia from sharing dorms with Junko and Momoe. Seeing him sort his deck in her living room, napping on her couch or armchairs, sitting at her dining table, watching shows on her television—Asuka is very accustomed to all of it. Visitors at her place are a rarity itself, so she's honestly used to seeing Judai being around. She supposes, after a while, it just became a habit to say 'home' with this familiarity in mind.

Asuka stares at her fingers on the counter. "Please," she says with building bravado and earnest eyes and a need to understand. "Continue?"

Maybe it's the way she had asked him, but he does: "You say it like I've been living here with you. Like I belong here—" He starts mumbling and looking away by this point, "—or something. I, uh— I'm not really used to it…"

Come to think of it... He wouldn't have a home himself if he's always traveling everywhere, right?

"That's because—" she says calmly, valor embedded in her words. "—this place is home." She swallows a nonexistent lump in her throat, because she never had to explain 'home' to him before and it feels strange since she's always seen it as 'home' even with him around. "It's a home for me, and a home for you. The guest bedroom is practically your own room. Not even Nii-san visits as much as you do," she teases, weakly.

He may have rejected her, but she had the foresight to know that—and since she already knew, it's not really something that she'll dwell on. It hurts, it stings, but that should not influence how she views her home. She liked being able to share her place with him, because he comes back. Despite this rift, she still likes that now. It's always happier here when he's around. Livelier.

"I like it here," admits Judai, in a heartfelt tenderness of his own. He leans forward, elbows at his knees, and interlocks his fingers together idly. "Even Yubel comments about how I stop by often."

Her heart droops a bit at the mention of his spirit companion. She wonders what Yubel feels about her if they had been listening during her confession. Resentment, maybe? Loathing? It couldn't be something positive.

"Oh," she says, lamely, heart beating with some anxiety. She really hopes she hadn't made things strained for him and Yubel, but that's probably none of her business since she has no connections to Yubel. It's like she doesn't really fit in at all. "Is it like this too? With Johan or Jim?"

"Yes and no," he murmurs, softly. "It's pretty fun at Johan's place, but I feel like I'm sometimes intruding on his time with his family when I'm there. Family's pretty important to him. Not to mention, those spirits always like to make fun of me all the time." (She briefly wonders what sort of family Johan has.) Judai places a hand behind his neck, awkwardly finding his words. He looks fifteen again like this: boyish and confused and tentative. "Things are quieter with Jim and he sometimes lets me see his fossils and stuff, but I can tell he also likes spending time with Karen more. We do have some inside jokes and they're pretty funny—but most of the time, I'm just doing my own thing while he goes out digging."

She's not like Johan who has a spirit family and she's not like Jim who has a crocodile best friend. It's just her in this apartment. Just herself. Only herself. No spirit companion of her own or any animal friends. She hardly has any visitors, given that she's the only one out of their friends here in America. She's just a Duel Monsters teacher who likes to read in her spare time. She's not a pro duelist nor does she go digging for fossils all day. She just likes to read at her apartment when she's not teaching or grading.

It's a fact by now: her world is just simply small. Smaller than Judai's. Smaller than Johan's. Smaller than Jim's.

Small.

Somehow, the thought makes her dim a little.

It's like she's plain and boring in comparison, so why would Judai even like it here anyway? If anything, she'd assumed he'd feel more comfortable with Johan since they get along so well. Her world could never really give Judai the enjoyment he gets from Johan, Jim, or just about anywhere else in the world. Her apartment is pretty small, after all. The most she can give is probably a roof, food, and television.

But if that's the case, then why would he come back here? He can have all of those things with Johan or Jim.

Then she starts remembering what Judai told her at the lake, from their second trip: You're you, Asuka. Not boring.

It echoes in her head, but she can't decipher it. She just can't seem to figure it out.

Fighting with this negative feeling building up inside of her, Asuka halfheartedly smiles. Her smile is probably crooked because she can't seem to find it in herself to be happy right now. Not really sure what to feel about hearing how life in her apartment is seemingly less invigorating than some others. It's like being a lost puzzle piece that doesn't really fit in anywhere. "I-I think I'll go back to cleaning now. Don't go into the living room and hurt your chin again, okay? I'll tell you when dinner's ready."

Immediately, she walks out in a hurried stride, feeling his eyes follow her. He looked like he had more to say since she couldn't really understand what point he was trying to make, but she's not sure if she wants to hear it. And maybe she just isn't ready to hear it yet.

Asuka is normally rational and likes to have both sides of the story first—but no matter how hard she had tried to cope today, something keeps coming up. Questions began building up, doubts began to pile up, and the strange insecurity from this current conversation started to seep past her defenses. She had never felt so self-conscious to this level before. Do these things normally happen after heartbreak?

She already knew the rejection would come, but these doubts started to sink in after it happened for real: If he had accepted, what then? Would he even be happy? Given his answer, would he be lying to himself if he had accepted my feelings? Would he still be happy here if he did accept me? Would I be happy?

Asuka shakes her head as she returns into the living room and grabs the mop she left there. She lectures herself, halfheartedly: Don't think like that. Move on. She tries to make it stick like a mantra, but it just doesn't seem to stick at all because her thoughts keep drifting back to this somehow. Drifting like clouds. He told her that he likes to cloud watch— She stops this train of thoughts.

This must be the side effect of falling in love. Because for some reason, a fact is clear to her.

Tenjoin Asuka is, by all means, not dumb or a coward—she always goes after things with a purpose; her goal is to make something out of her life before she withers away from old age. She wants to spend her life being the Duel Monsters teacher that she's worked a good chunk of her life off to become. When she wants to do something, she does so with great conviction and leaps over her hurdles with equal persistence and a bright zealous spark in her eyes. She used to be an ideal student, and now she's an ideal adult; ideal image for hard-working women trying to survive in modern society because she's been there and done that herself. She's smart and independent enough to survive modern day struggles.

But despite all of her accomplishments, Tenjoin Asuka is still a girl who was in love and had her heart broken.

So she isn't dumb or a coward, but she is careful. She isn't dumb because a fact has been very clear to her for a while, and she finally acknowledges it the moment she exited out of the bathroom. She isn't a coward because she is still standing in her apartment, in her living room, in plain sight, where Judai could very easily walk in and talk with her if he wanted to. She is careful because she needs to stay strong so that she doesn't get her heart broken again.

After some thinking, she can go back to the doubts she worried about earlier, and can answer them in chronological order with clarity: It wouldn't have been real. No, he wouldn't. Yes, it would. He would try to be happy. No, I would be guilty because it wouldn't have been honest.

So yes, based off these answers she gave herself, a fact has been very clear for a while.

She is still in love with him.

But he is still her first heartbreak.

It's like the universe doesn't want her to move on, despite her own attempts to do so. Moving on would be the logical thing to do. She has feelings of her own, so can it really be blamed on her if she had walked out on that conversation in the bathroom because she wanted to be careful of more broken heart shards? Could she be blamed for falling in love?

As she mops the floor again, Asuka hears a door in the hallway gently shut. Knowing who closed the door, it makes her think again: the Duel Academia days, the tag duel, his visits, his phone calls, his smiles, the fishing trips, the lame jokes, her birthday, yesterday—

She stops mopping to calmly look up at the ceiling, a feeling of heavy resignation in her chest at her bad, bad luck. Then, she sighs heavily and slumps her head down.

Yeah, falling in love is definitely a curse for her.

.

.

Dinner is awkward.

Asuka still cooked and she still set up the table. Still brings out the plates and dishes, and still prepares enough food for both of them. But there is a very obvious silence as she eats her rice, occasionally poking it with her chopsticks whenever she's chewing. A part of her wished that she had brought a book to dinner with her so she can do something while she sits here in the foreboding tension.

She studies her rice, not feeling valiant enough to initiate conversation. Conversation at the table this time would probably worsen the situation.

Judai is quietly eating the fried shrimp she prepared for him. (He normally gobbles up everything, but he's actually eating slowly and normally. She isn't sure if she can take the pressure, because she knows why he's behaving like this.)

While things have grown strained again between them, Asuka still cares. She still cares to make him his favorites. He had told her a few times about how he really likes her cooking; that it beats the takeout food Johan sometimes orders for them. Jim cooks homemade food too, but not as much as she does apparently.

She's watched Kenzan and Sho brawl over saving Judai fried shrimp enough times to know that he really loves eating it. At some point, it just became a habit of hers to note how much fried shrimp she should prepare whenever he comes by. Judai has yet to complain, which she assumes is a really good thing. Like right now.

So she tentatively stretches out her hand and shows him her shrimp resting on top of her rice and offers in a small voice, "Would you like mine?" This is probably the bravest thing she can do right now.

Raising an eyebrow, he stops eating and looks up. He opens his mouth. She starts dreading, but then he stops himself before he simply asks back, "You don't like them?"

She can tell that conversation earlier is still fresh in both of their minds, but she appreciates that he doesn't actually ask about it. She wouldn't know how to answer. Her head shakes. "You like them, so I thought I'd offer."

She just wants to offer him some shrimp, really. It's sort of like her peace offering for all the tension lately. She started it, after all.

He looks like he's self-debating. "I'll… take them then," he decides slowly, giving her one glance and using his chopsticks to snatch them. Inwardly, she feels relieved that he had even accepted her offer at all. She finds some solace in the quiet purrs Pharaoh makes nearby, also eating his bowl of cat food.

With a tentative smile, Asuka nods and goes back to eating. She silently takes the last bit of small beef slices from a plate to eat with her rice. She enjoys eating those herself. Feeling eyes on her, Asuka distracts herself by thinking about recipes and trying not to squirm while eating her rice.

After about a minute of trying to feign obliviousness to his staring, she hears Judai ask, "Want mine?"

When she looks up, he is casually offering her the beef slices from his bowl. His hand is outstretched with the bowl sitting on his palm, and the aforementioned beef slices are right there, like it's waiting. Chopsticks still in his mouth, he looks expectantly at her like something would wither if she did not take his kindly-offered beef slices.

Vaguely, she wonders if it's even okay for them to share food with each other, given the circumstances lately, but the thought perishes quickly because she already offered him her fried shrimp. Asuka can feel herself wilt at the look he gives her, like he's entirely devoted to gauging her reaction—and for a brief moment, something stirs in her chest: a flicker of hope.

Maybe the beef slices are his own peace offerings in return for the shrimp. He noticed her attempts at bringing back their normalcy and perhaps he wants to do the same.

He also wants things to go back to normal like her.

He still cares about their friendship too.

He still cares.

The hope in her chest is flourishing, spreading a warmness in her veins. "Okay," she weakly agrees, taking his beef slices with her chopsticks with hesitant conviction.

Judai suddenly smiles at her, genuinity and tenderness in his eyes. It's the first real smile he's shown to her after a while since her birthday, and she stays quiet because she doesn't want to mess up again. It looks beautiful.

Asuka tries very hard to ignore the fluttering in her chest by intensely looking at her rice as she eats. He rarely smiles like this at her, even before she had caused tension. It's not the same smile she fell in love with, but it's a relieved smile that seems to radiate something else she can't really put her finger on. He must be really happy that this awkwardness is starting to recede. (She can't really blame him since she feels the same too.)

For the rest of dinner, they don't talk—but she is still eating the beef slices he let her have, and he is still smiling as he finishes his rice and the fried shrimp she gave him.

.

.

Later that night, when Judai had gone back to his room after bidding her a quiet good night with a small smile, she opens her fridge and blinks at the clean, emptied plate sitting innocently in plain sight. This plate once held the peeled oranges she had offered him this morning. She knows this because it sits in the same spot she had set it on earlier, and the plastic wrap she had used to cover it is gone. She had not touched it at all ever since she placed it in here this morning.

The hope continues to bloom in her heart.

Smiling a little, she closes the fridge. She didn't know food peace offerings would be so effective, but maybe it's proof that he didn't want that tension to stay as much as she does.

That tension was probably a testament of their friendship, if she thinks about it. Before all of this happened, they were tag partners. And tag partners always trust in each other. They'd be a pretty crummy team if they can't bypass this hurdle eventually, right? She may have confessed to him and he may have rejected her, but it's hard to forget all these years of friendship. All they've been through. Things are still tentative for them right now, but there is progress in the way they had dinner tonight and she thinks that matters a lot to her right now.

Because this friendship is one-of-a-kind to her, and she doesn't want to lose that.

She wants to believe that she can fix this.

She can. She will.