Chapter 8: Under Lamplight
Relaxation, snacking, and a nighttime stroll.
"It's not my thing.
"I'm exhausted after today.
"Yes, I'm sure."
Rin repeatedly declines the parents' invitation to the casino, secretly amazed that they're still raring to go even after a morning and afternoon spent store-hopping and souvenir-hunting.
Reiji catches her gaze and smirks when she scans the group. "Len went out earlier," he says. Rin swears she sees Sumire's smile widen a little.
"Oh." Len's discretion makes way more sense now. "I see, thanks. Win big!" Rin bids them good luck and shuts the door, extremely glad to see them off. Why does it feel like she's right where they want her?
Oh well. Speculating won't help now, and it doesn't matter. The chance to lounge in pajamas is here and she's going to make the most of it, even if it's only three-quarters past six and overdue by several days. It's Lazy Rin Time!
Portable speaker set up on the counter, check. Her favorite EP from her favorite band on loop, check. All her extra pillows deployed supporting her back and her legs, check. She squeezes her perfect canary friend in her arms and lets out a long, contented sigh.
By the third replay of the EP, Rin is caught up on manga updates, clear of daily quests in her games and withering under the onslaught of texts from Gumi, who now has a vested interest in "seeing this ship sail", so she says. From how the messages come short and fast like water gun sprays, it's clear Gumi wants the last word.
Rin wrinkles her nose at her colleague's insistence to "just call him" because she "should live a little", yet opens Len's contact anyway. Then she hits Call to shut Gumi up and nothing else.
Okay, fine, she does miss him. He's her best friend! This is completely normal!
Len picks up before she can regret it, sending frantic butterflies loose in her stomach. "The number you have dialed is no longer in service," he answers, smooth monotone just barely concealing a snicker.
The butterflies settle. "Oh." She hangs up. The next beat, her ringtone shrieks.
"I was kidding, Rin!"
"And I was humoring you!" she says sweetly.
"Thank you sooo much." The sarcasm is thick as honey in his gratitude. "What's up?"
"I'm bored," she sighs, rolling over in bed to set her feet against the wall, listening to the muffled, but very audible music and chatter around him. "Surprised you still have energy to go clubbing."
"Not clubbing," he corrects a bit sourly. "Taking a walk so I don't go crazy. Guess where I am."
"No, just tell me."
"You're no fun!" he exclaims. "I'm outside that bar. Remember when we got hit on and I made you cry? Good times."
The nerve of this guy! She snorts. "Too soon!" He only laughs louder.
"Hold on a sec." There's a light crackling sound, and before long he returns with the background faded to a murmur. "So, Miss Bored, wanna meet up?"
Rin imagines him at the nearby terrace, avoiding the edge or gripping the railing for dear life if he's looking out because it offers an excellent view of the amusement park and the winds are strong there; his microphone is sputtering. What kind of face is he making right now? She wishes she could see.
"Too tired," she groans and before she can filter it, an idea tumbles out her mouth, "We could just chill in my room."
Shit! The insinuation hits her a second later and she scrambles upright. At the brief silence on the line, she smacks the closest pillow in a fluster. "I mean, uh, umm… Like literally hang out. As friends."
Whether she should take Len's response as a relief or disappointment is a tough call; "Yeah, sure," he answers airily, and after a pause, "I'll get snacks?"
"No need—"
"Heh." The smile returns to his voice. "Okay, getting snacks. Be there in ten." Her protests go unheard and he hangs up. Typical Len.
So begins Rin's sudden timed quest to turn her fort of relaxation into a slightly more presentable space. Also, she wonders, glancing at her bed and at the one-seater armchair, how is this gonna work?
.
.
Len arrives charmingly punctual in a sweater and jeans, and the first thing Rin does is block his path to the bed, protecting her plushie from further tests of structural integrity. He says nothing about the glossy paper box in his hands until they make themselves at home on the armchair just wide enough to fit them both, snug as sardines in a can.
The last time they had to squeeze into a space like this, they were hiding together in a locker to prank a mutual friend, though that was a very long time ago.
"I didn't think this through," Rin admits, distracting herself from their closeness flipping through TV channels. "It's either this or the bed, so."
"It's fine," Len reassures. "That's your plushie's territory, anyway."
"Glad you know. And what snacks did you even get?"
"Not snacks, but better." He opens the box with a flourish, silly but endearing just because it's him, revealing four delicate cake slices. The orange-flavored jelly and pound cakes draw her eye immediately.
"Are those for me?" she asks demurely.
"No, I was planning to eat these in front of you." He rolls his eyes and pushes the box towards her. "Yes these are yours, obviously."
She tries and fails to suppress a smile. "You spoil me. Thanks."
"Just making up for lost time."
"What does that mean?"
"Exactly what it means," he says innocently. "You're too young to be hard of hearing—ow!" He yelps at her punch to the arm.
They eat their cakes to an out-of-order marathon of Steven Universe, yelling at characters, attempting to place scenes to arcs, reminding each other of story beats. Len immediately accepts her offer to binge the series properly when they find the time—to do it justice.
"Showing that Diamond after episode 2, are they crazy?" Rin throws her hands up.
"Maybe they just hit shuffle on a playlist," Len speculates, finishing the last of his dessert. "Kinda like this whole thing, isn't it? Like us."
"Hm?"
"Um, you know…" Color creeps up his ears. "Memories coming back up in random order, and stuff."
Like when you remembered my confession out of nowhere? she almost asks, but her resolve is as collapsible as the jelly cake. "Yeah, like the tree incident." This awards her a hard pinch to the cheek. "Ouch!"
Several episodes, each from completely different seasons and arcs later, Len is yawning. He'd been supporting his face on his palm, but he's half-folded over the armrest now, nodding off at the edge of the chair.
Rin finds herself gazing at him, admiring the way the fading dusk outside complements the light dancing on his face and how the room lighting above brings out the golds of his wavy bangs. It's unfair to her heart how good he looks.
Should she get him a pillow? He makes a low grumbling noise when she shifts and their thighs brush. Okay then. So much for that idea.
Watching the rise and fall of his chest and as though sleep were contagious, her own alertness wanes. Exerting a last bit of effort to get cozy before the inevitable, Rin nestles into her corner of the chair and drifts away.
.
.
The evening light is long gone the next time she opens her eyes. The action movie playing on TV is too loud and her limbs feel like static. She must still be dreaming because she's on Len's shoulder again. It's so soft, so real it's like dreaming of her daily routine while she's still in bed with her alarm ringing away, the kind of dream that leaves her doubly exhausted on waking like she has to do the day over.
Determined to stay asleep, she relaxes into his side, intertwining her arm in his. Indulgent, but that's okay. Five more minutes of this slice of heaven is all she wants.
Len stirs with a twitch. A deep fill of air, a bit of shuffling, the smallest tug. Strangely active for a dream. A part of her only suspects otherwise when he stiffens, and she blinks up at him in time to see a vivid blush blossoming across his face. "Um, good morning."
Oh no.
This is very real.
"S-sorry."
He catches her before she can pull apart, his hand so warm she swears it could burn her. "Wait. It's okay. Not the first time."
What? "What?"
"Ah, no, well," he mumbles, staring very hard at the TV. "This happened on the bus too, you fell asleep on me. When you asked at hotpot I didn't know how to tell you without freaking you out. Sorry."
"Oh" is all she can immediately respond with. He knew all along. He knew all along! He didn't mind then, he doesn't mind now, and he's still holding onto her. The knowledge fills her with a strength she didn't know she could have, and her mind buzzes, ignited by a sudden wave of confidence.
"You're too comfy for your own good."
This seems to put him at ease, and he flashes a toothy smile. "I'll take that as a compliment."
He reluctantly releases her so she can finally shut the TV off ("I can't move like this, Len.") and welcomes her back beside him with a light squeeze on her arm. For five more minutes, it's just them browsing clips on his phone huddled together like it's normal, though the fluttering in her chest is anything but.
Rin wonders if she should ask about the confession, about what they're doing now, about everything. Hey, do you like me that way? You haven't answered my confession—no, you tried asking… something, but I ran. I'm sorry for being a coward. What were you going to say? Can you tell me now?
A small buzz closes that window of opportunity. On his phone, a notification banner appears: "small win!" in their two-family group chat from Sumire, followed by texts from her own parents. Len swipes to the lock screen to scan the barrage.
His wallpaper steals her breath—the digital copy of their mess of a haunted house souvenir photo, zoomed in close on the two of them and centered on her. When did he change it?
Then she registers the time.
"It's 9:30 already?!" She jumps up, startling him. "I'll go change."
His confused stare follows her across the room, and he makes a little noise of realization when she returns to mention they really should grab supper before they completely run out of options.
"Earth to Len! Are you still asleep?"
"Awake now," he chuckles. "Just had a really nice dream."
Said options are far and few in the darkened, quieting mall. With the more familiar eats closed for the night, they reluctantly settle on sticky chairs in a sticky diner. The menu packs a visual punch (practically searing their retinas because it's so garish) and whatever enjoyment they could have derived from trays of soggy fries is stolen by the long, long wait. Rin is glad they had cake first.
Len pushes his half-eaten meal away, wrinkling his nose. "No more. I'm done."
"Same," Rin sighs, doing the same with her tray. "Snacks?"
He nods. "Snacks."
The mall being near-empty as is, it's easy to notice people strolling out. They curiously follow the stream, down the road, out of the tourist zone, and into open air. It's bright, bustling and humid from crowding, the rows of food stalls that collectively make the night market.
On a half-full stomach, Rin salivates taking in the wafting aromas. Her ears hone in on the quick, rhythmic clanking of woks that must surely contain piping hot deliciousness, and the snappy sizzling of barbequing meats.
"Should've checked outside earlier!" Len remarks with happy exasperation. He pays for their chicken skewers and milk tea before she protests that she can afford her own, pointing out that he technically used his "turn" on the cakes.
Len nods his assent, then hands her cotton candy he'd apparently bought while her back was turned. Cheeky.
Starstruck by his visage under string lights and lanterns, Rin accepts the treat, though not without forcing his fingers to close around her coins in return.
"It's been a while since I had one of these." She notices his candy-free hands. "Still don't like it?"
He hums. "Let me check." His cologne momentarily floods her senses as he takes a large bite—so near her face she just knows he's doing it on purpose—leaving his mark in the candy. "Eh. I'm good." He wipes his lip with his thumb.
She's tempted to ask him to take another bite just because. Not that she wants to see wiping his lip again or anything. Instead, the spun sugar becomes her shield as he walks ahead, her cheeks matching the pink.
Rin waits until he looks away to eat his mark off. Sweet. It's so sweet and airy and heavy all at once.
Len stops to let her catch up and when she does, he links his arm with hers. She nearly drops the candy at being pulled close. "You know, it was like this at the haunted house too," he whispers, squishing against her for emphasis, "We were practically glued at the arm."
Her heart thumps. "You're making that up."
"Do you want me to be?"
"I—that's not the point!"
They leave the market debating the veracity of his claim, their excited back-and-forth rising above the chatter. At the split paths leading to the hotel, Len takes them down the one they've not ventured. The signage promises a scenic walk, though Rin doubts they can see much long past sundown.
The shadows of the trees lining the path hang thickly over them, blotting out moonlight. It feels safe, though, with her hand in his. It might even be romantic, if they weren't still arguing.
"I lack evidence," he laments, "but you can't disprove it either. We're going to another haunted house after this trip." He grabs her shoulder and makes a sweeping gesture in front of them. "Just me and a chicken against the world."
She shoves him away, giggling. "Chicken who?"
"I'm looking at her."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Then I insist you return that keychain." Her coin pouch and its new charm are swiped from her cardigan pocket. "It belongs to my chicken friend, you see." And to her chagrin, he takes off running.
"Hey!" In the distance, he digs into his pocket and opens her pouch. Is he…? "Give that back!"
He dodges her expertly. "This isn't yours!"
"Len, I swear—"
"Okay, okay, you can help me return it." He relents to her light punches. "So… is that a yes for Haunted house round two?"
"Yeah." Anywhere with you. "I'll make you wish you never brought this up!" She shakes her fist at him.
Light drapes over them as they emerge from under tree shade. Bathed in silver sheen spilling through parted clouds, Len's expression now is unlike any she's ever seen; fond, affectionate—
Adoring.
"Then it's a date."
He'd run his mouth again.
In the pause between them, Len's stomach plummets to his feet. Shit. Too honest, too flirty, too much. Why did he say that? What was he thinking?
Rin's eyes are big in her head, reflecting moonlight, reflecting him. Beautiful even in shock. Conclusion: he wasn't thinking.
Her lips part. "...Len?"
Too much.
"Uh." His fingers twist in his ponytail. "Bad joke, ignore me."
They continue forward, him leading at a brisk pace, avoiding her stare as it drills into the back of his head. He barely notices them entering a road tunnel.
Maybe it's fine, Len thinks. She'll take his word for it and leave it be. He'll play this off and they'll go back to normal, to being the best of friends.
The very idea stings.
In truth, he's afraid. He's free-falling for the first time with no end in sight. He's afraid of the greed clenching his heart so, of the want to capture hers despite everything they've been through, just when the air cleared between them. Most of all, he's afraid of being the cause for tears again.
But then, what of her admission? Does she still— No, she did mean it, but that's all. Don't be selfish.
They're halfway into the tunnel now, two lone figures under harsh orange lights. Then the delicate silence shatters.
"This holiday was wild," Rin says quietly, "Can't believe I got my best friend back."
Her words sink in fast and consuming like molten heat into ice. Len spins on his heel and is immediately struck by her expression set alight by embers. "I know, right?" he manages with an uneasy smile. "Best friend though…"
The embers glow brighter. "Yeah. Am I wrong?"
Their steps come to a stop. He finds her hand and squeezes it, searching for a sign, a tell—anything. "Only 'best friend'?"
She yanks away hard. The loss of her sends a surge of panic through him. "You already know how I feel."
Does he?
Rin laces her hands together. Red in the face and eyes tightly shut, she completes the picture of the day she'd sent her heart flying, the day he'd missed it completely.
Oh.
He does.
Len reaches out to hold her shoulders, partly to reassure her and partly to steady himself. "Rin, look at me." Her brows twitch. "Please."
There's a heartbreaking fear in those watery blue irises, fear she should never have been made to feel, so much and for so long. "Rin, I…" The rest of the words lodge in his throat, right when he needs them most.
Damn it.
He'll just have to show her.
The first kiss is the gentlest press of the lips, short as a puff of breath. When he pulls back, her eyes flutter half-open and there's a hesitant tug on his sweater. Relief washes over, and he yields to the unspoken More.
Velvety soft, burning to the touch and faintly sugar-sweet. One kiss blends into the next, the one after that, and yet another. He stops counting, opting to thread a hand into her hair and place the other on her waist.
Adjusting to kiss her deeper, she trembles and it suddenly occurs to him that she's never dated. Acting on emotions is one thing, but this might be too intense. He might be too intense. Then Rin sighs, melting in his arms and burying his doubts.
For just a little while there is nothing else in the world but them, distance closing and overlapping, feather-light and fervent and everything in-between. It feels like coming home, like everything he's ever wanted and maybe even more than that.
Rin looks as dazed as he feels when they part. Her lips are glossy and her fists are still tightly closed on fabric. She's pretty like this, too. As much as he wants to lean in again, it's only fair he gives his answer; she's waited long enough.
"I love you."
She blinks once, blinks twice. Color rapidly spreads up to the shells of her ears, down her neck in realization and she releases him. The wrinkles persist in his sweater. "You…" He can't tell if the twist of her mouth is a smile or a grimace. "You did that in the wrong order. You weirdo," she mutters.
Ah, so that's what it means.
His heart blooms. "Whoops, you're right. Let me try again." He takes her hands. She flushes deeper. Step one. "I love you." Step two…
Rin ducks with a yelp and he kisses her hair instead. Her scent, too—flowery-fragrant shampoo and residual roasted aroma of market air—is intoxicating. Would it be okay to kiss her again? He misses the sensation already.
She seems to sense his thoughts. "This is too much—You're impossible!" She breaks free of him with a hard shove and tears out the tunnel. Because he loves her and he's impossible, he gives chase.
Their families are probably done gambling for the night and wondering where they've gone, but he's not planning to check his phone anytime soon, and from the looks of it, neither is Rin.
The hotel gardens are deserted at this time, hedges and flower patches just barely illuminated by flickering park lamps. In fact, the neon specks of the night market below are far brighter.
Doing his best not to mind the railing and the unfathomably deep drop over it, he holds Rin close, far more reluctant to end this night than almost everything else he's felt this trip (at the top, of course, is his affection for her).
"We should head back," Rin murmurs.
"After you," he says, keeping perfectly still.
"You first." She doesn't move either.
"Please, I insist."
She huffs. Cute. "Five more minutes."
"Yeah."
They watch lights down the mountain fade in slow succession. As the last one extinguishes, a soft chime sounds.
"Oh, that's me." Rin peels away from him. Her eyes go wide at her phone screen, then she's scanning it up and down. "It's 12:30. My mom's reminding us to sleep soon since we have a hike tomorrow."
"Huh. Completely forgot about that, for obvious reasons," Len says, wagging his eyebrows. She frowns in jest. "Well, shall we?"
"Wait." She grabs his arm. "I haven't answered you. I… I think I love you too." The sentence ends as a squeak.
Confusion hits him first. "Eh? You 'think'?"
"This is all very new to me," she says in one breath, turning bright pink under lamplight. "Very new. Also, I, um…" She covers her face before he can hear the rest.
"What?" He cranes his neck, she repeats. Still indistinct. "I can't read your mind, Rin." She's even pinker now.
If anything, she gets softer, but he hears it—"kiss again". So that's what he does.
Unintentionally, it's a different kind of kiss. Desperate, impatient, as though they might never have the chance again. Rin's frame, small and delicate in his, proves surprisingly forceful as she hooks her arms around his neck and pulls, all but dragging the last of his restraint away.
For all her inexperience, she's a quick learner. Where he's unmatched, she does her best to find buttons elsewhere to push. And she finds them tugging his ponytail, running her fingers down the dip of his back.
This is bad—a muffled groan escapes him, cutting coherent thought in two—how do we even stop?
A small shuffling noise catches in his ear. Oh shit. They separate with an audible pop and try not to stare at a pair of giggling strangers strolling in. Rin buries herself in his sweater, trembling slightly. He shields her.
Fortunately, the couple don't notice them and disappear further into the hedges in clumsy stumbles. Before long, the crisp air pollutes with what can only be described as sounds of eating face.
Gross.
Rin shakes in a silent fit of laughter, ears cupped. Let's go, she mouths. He laughs too.
.
.
"You know, we weren't very far from that," Len whispers into her ear when they're safely out the garden. "Round two? Oh wait, it would be Round three—"
She smacks him.
.
.
Notes:
Finally.
Thank you for your patience everyone who's been rooting for them, and welcome to the chapter that compelled me to write this entire fic! I've been waiting! Hehe.
I tried to "hide" Len's POV after plushie shopping in chapter 7, his feelings only implied/kept a mystery up until this chapter for suspense/hope/tension. Did it work?
Might be a bit early, but consider this my contribution for the season! Happy Birthday Rin and Len, and Happy Holidays everyone! Huzzah!
Thanks for reading! ︎❤︎