Chapter Text
At eight o'clock in the evening, cars seldom drive through the residential areas on the outskirts of Kyoto. Likewise, people are mostly inside, save for few students, overtime workers and pet owners. The sun is setting and shadows are rising, but strangely, she feels at peace with all of these things. She doesn't want to admit the reason for that though, not even to herself.
Natsume Asako bends down and unstraps her sandals. Shrugging them off, she steps out onto the warm tarmac, the lingering heat relaxing her soles.
"Snapped strap again?"
Sasayan, who has been walking beside her with grocery bags, stops to glare at the footwear, now swinging from her hand. It wouldn't be the first time Natsume's shoes turned out to be poorly made. It would be just like her to invest into design rather than quality. Or, perhaps, some things have changed since then...
"No," Natsume sighs and looks at him inquisitively, as if the reference went right over her head, "my feet hurt."
He looks away. It's beyond embarrassing to remember that he used to play that memory on repeat in his head and wonder if she felt the same. And now, despite a good while passing since their high school graduation, he is unable to even look at her and reminisce without feeling flushed, if only because it leads to more mortifying memories. They were both such stupid kids.
It takes two minutes of silence until they are at the building of her rented apartment. Almost once as much until they climb the stairs, although he stops in the middle of the stairwell leading to the second story while she is already at her door fumbling with her keys (still holding her sandals with one hand). So many keychains; perhaps things are not so different after all.
"Thank you for carrying the bags," she mumbles without raising her head.
"No problem," he answers, setting the bags he helped her carry at his feet. In a few seconds, the jingle of her keys ceases, but the sound of unlocking the door does not follow.
"Sasayan...!"
He barely sees her skipping down the stairs in his direction. His head is yet to face her when he hears her yelp and on instinct reaches forward. His eyes widen with surprise as he feels her weight falling into them; her hands grip his shoulders, seeking stability. It takes him thirty seconds to regain composure, because, after all, they are outside on a flight of stairs that anyone might need to use at any time, so he looks at her; but her face is turned downwards, hidden behind her fringe, and he can only make out her cheeks red with embarrassment (which makes his redden, too).
He clears his throat, realising how a minute must have passed already and they both are stiff as boards. "A-... Ah, Natsume?"
Natsume knew that she wouldn't be able to put it off forever, whatever it was, but just as she gathered enough bravery to invite him inside or something (anything!), she tripped halfway there and her words have halted similarly.
She gulps, closes her eyes and opens them. If he didn't saw he blush when she realised that he most likely still remembered how he helped her walk home barefoot all those summers ago, he must see it now. He always noticed these things; yet he also somehow managed to remain an insensitive idiot. He's been such a good friend for years.
"A-... Ah, Natsume?"
When she raises her head and notices that his cheeks are pink, it's like a new dose of adrenaline shots through her – and she is definitely not going to make it.
She lets out a nervous but loud laugh, her eyes flitting wherever and even slaps him on the shoulder like he's the one making things awkward. She hears him sigh. It's such a familiar sound, her stomach clenches. His hands, which have been supporting her waist until now, move to clasp hers and pull them off his shoulders. He pushes her backwards until she's standing on her own.
"I'm… I'm sorry, Sasayan…" she says, avoiding his disappointed face, "I... thank you for helping me carry the bags."
She hears him snort as his hands squeeze hers and she squeals in shock, unaware that he never let them go. With a far more sincere laugh, he lets her snatch them away.
"Do you need help carrying those bags inside?"
She narrows her eyes at him, but doesn't protest as he picks the bags up and passes her until he's at her front door. This time, she finds her keys a lot quicker.
He drops off the load in the hallway and doesn't stay for much longer. Natsume sees him out, standing in her door as he disappears from her sight, he and his smiling face. She doesn't notice her own smile; she doesn't have to admit the reason for it to anyone anyway, and certainly not to herself.
Half an hour later, Natsume is in her room turning on her laptop, groceries in the kitchen but unpacked about as much as they were thirty minutes ago.
Sasayan has picked up his pace into a jog, heading for his own place, wondering if she has thrown out those sandals yet.
But he mostly thinks about the answer that he got to his unspoken question.