Chapter Text
The door was slightly ajar. He could smell something baking, something vanilla. He felt something rub up against him, its tail curling around his leg, leaving a trail of black fur on his pants.
It was a cat, eyes half closed, purring. Instinctively, he crouched down to give the cat a scratch on its head.
The door opened, and he stood up suddenly, almost like he was caught doing something wrong. A woman, with round glasses and medium-length black hair, stood in the frame, looking apologetic.
"I'm so sorry, I think Inky got out while I was putting away some groceries and I didn't close the door fully. I hope he didn't bother you?"
He gave a small smile, "No, not at all. Inky's really cute."
"Do you like cats?" she asked.
He hung his head a little. "Actually, I prefer dogs, but like, cats are cool too."
"Understandable," she said. She looked at the door next to her. "Say, are you my neighbor?" He nodded. "I think we haven't met yet. I'm Ari."
He shook her outstretched hand, shifting the weight of his backpack as he did so. She took notice. "I'm Nathan," he said.
She smiled widely at him. "I know," she said. "You're a big deal for us Asian Americans," she said.
"Ah, no, you're too kind," he said, turning his eyes slightly to the right, feeling his cheeks flush. It was still hard for him to accept compliments.
"I don't want to keep you, you must be busy." She paused. "Um… I know this is weird because you're famous, but if you were any other neighbor, I'd ask if you wanted to exchange numbers, just in case. Would you be interested?"
He weighed his options. He didn't know her at all. He nervously let out an exhale.
She understood his anxious feelings. "Too weird, right? I'm a stranger, aren't I? I'll just leave you with my phone number and if you need anything, just let me know. Sometimes these old-houses-turned-to-apartments can be really rickety."
She went into her apartment briefly, and returned with a post-it with her name and number on it. "Good night," she said, scooping Inky into her arms and closing the door.
He dropped his backpack down with a dull thunk, looking at the post-it in his hands. "Ari Sakai," he said out loud, while typing it into his phone. Her website was the first result. She was an assistant professor there, only hired recently. Went to Pomona College, straight to graduate school at Princeton. Grew up in New York.
Sitting on the couch, he strapped his legs into his icing machine. It had been a hard practice. He was curious to see more, maybe she had an Instagram or something. Well, she was older, so maybe a Facebook. He did find a Facebook profile, but it was completely empty except for a profile picture showing her in the middle of a mountainous landscape. He thought it might be Glacier National Park? Her Instagram likewise was private.
He closed his eyes, the tiredness washing over him, falling asleep quickly.