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It was one of those dreary London days where an onslaught of rain attacked the window and the drafty air seeped through the cracks in the roof. Ryuunosuke and Susato had laid buckets, teacups, and pots under the various leaks – Mr. Sholmes was behind on his rent, and the two young students didn’t have the heart to tell him that the roof was in urgent need of repair.
Although Ryuunosuke knew that he had to study case law for tomorrow’s trial, the weather weighed on his droopy eyelids. He wanted nothing more than to curl up by the stove and never look at another English word again.
Usually on days like this he would invoke the memory of Kazuma to motivate him, but it felt as though even Kazuma’s image had abandoned him for warmer climates today. If he were alive and in London right now, he’d probably be dragging me to the pub anyway, he thought, smiling weakly.
He drew his hand-knit shawl, a gift from Iris, around himself and felt much like an old woman, hobbled over his desk.
“Eurghhhh…..” he groaned as the words started to blur together on the page. The rain was like a lullaby, putting him to sleep, and as he folded his arms on the crowded desk, the textbook’s yellowed pages started to look more and more like an appealing pillow…
“Mr. Naruhodo! What do you think you’re doing?” an impatient voice came from above him.
“Susato-san!” Ryuunosuke yelped, sitting up straight.
His devoted assistant had the sternest of glares scrunching those doe eyes of hers—and yet she carried a tray of hot tea, a fresh sweet roll from the bakery down the street, and a square of chocolate, elegantly plated and lovingly prepared as a snack for him. Sometimes she gives me mixed messages, he thought wearily.
“What has gotten into you, slacking off like this?” she started, beginning to put the tray down as Ryuunosuke scrambled to move books out of the way.
“I didn’t mean to, Susato-san,” Ryuunosuke sighed. “It’s just…I slept so dreadfully with the cold air howling through the roof cracks. I’m afraid I don’t have the constitution for London winters.”
Susato looked as though she was going to scold him, but then she gave him a once-over—and seeing his disheveled, shivering state, her expression softened. “Truthfully, I…didn’t sleep terribly well either. Mr. Sholmes is so kind to rent out this apartment to us, and I would hate to complain, but…”
…But he should really pawn off his violin again. “I understand what you mean,” Ryuunosuke sighed. As if to illustrate the point, a particularly large globule of rain splashed the pot near them. “I’m sorry for neglecting my duties…but if I’m honest, I don’t know how I’m going to get through the next three hours of studying.”
As a thoughtful silence descended between them, he stole a nibble of chocolate and a sip of tea. He wasn’t sure why, but knowing Susato prepared such delicious treats with him in mind always made his heart swell with joy.
He could feel Susato peeking over at him. When he glanced back at her, he caught her genuine, almost proud smile before it faded into a more neutral expression. Sometimes Ryuunosuke got the feeling that Susato enjoyed making him treats just as much as he enjoyed eating them, but for some reason she didn’t seem to want him to know. This often made him feel quite bashful as well.
With a sharp breath, Susato furrowed her eyes shut, summoning some sort of determination. “Mr. Naruhodo…as your assistant, I feel it is my duty to motivate your study.”
Her round cheeks flushed pink as she continued. “I apologize in advance for the unconventional method I’m about to employ, but I haven’t seen you this out of sorts in ages.”
Shifting in his seat awkwardly, Ryuunosuke began to blush as well. Why was Susato-san so nervous all of a sudden? And what did “unconventional methods” mean? Ryuunosuke imagined some medieval contraption of Iris’s to pry his eyes open, or shock him when he fell asleep, or…
But when he met Susato’s gaze again her expression was quite soft. She was leaning in toward him, and she didn’t look like she had any torture devices in her hand.
Instead she leaned down, resting her shaking hands on the armrest, and planted the softest of kisses on Ryuunosuke’s lips. Feather-light, it was barely a touch at all, but the memory of those sweet, gentle lips would never leave him for as long as he lived.
She pulled back as quickly as she had leaned in, casting her gaze aside in embarrassment—but the same shy smile that had sprouted on his face was evident on hers as well.
“Susato-san…what was that?” Ryuunosuke sputtered, warmth spreading from his lips to his face and then to his body like the effect of a cozy kotatsu.
“Why, a kiss, of course,” Susato laughed nervously, covering her mouth. “F-forgive me, that was quite improper.”
For as long as Ryuunosuke had known Susato, she had brought warmth into his life. He couldn’t always place why it was, or where it came from—but he’d always wondered if his feelings were solely his own, a figment of his imagination. It had never occurred to him that a beautiful woman like Susato would have any interest in an awkward student like him.
Could it be that he brought light to her life as well? He could scarcely believe it.
Ryuunosuke shook himself out of it. His mind remained steadfast on one thing. “W-Well, may I have another one?” he stammered, trying not to sound as desperate as he felt.
Her first reaction was to draw back in surprise, and then she melted into a smile. “One more,” she murmured.
Normally he wouldn’t be so forward, but after Susato had risked so much to show that side of herself, he couldn’t help but gather the courage to be the same. Standing and letting the shawl drop behind him, he strode forward to pull her into an embrace. Though his heart pounded louder than the rainstorm, his lips gravitated toward hers quite of their own accord. With a caress of her burning cheek, he kissed her with all the firmness of a man who had been pining for years & all the gentleness of a devout man worshipping at the altar of his deity. He didn’t dare broach the barrier of her mouth, but he could taste the lemon cake on her breath as much as the chocolate on his own.
Susato ran her fingers through his mussed-up hair, sending goosebumps down his neck. Though they both lacked experience, they made up for it in enthusiasm—this was evident in their shaky breaths, their skipping heartbeats, their tender touches.
Ryuunosuke knew that if they continued like this, they may never stop, but still he couldn’t draw himself away. Ultimately it was Susato who exercised that restraint, breaking off the kiss firmly while still caressing the scalp beneath his hair.
Still wrapped in Ryuunosuke’s embrace, she declared, “Mr. Naruhodo…if you finish your work today, you may kiss me as many times as you want.”
Ryuunosuke’s face hurt from smiling. “Really? Even…” He tried to think of a large number. “Hundreds of times? Thousands of times?”
“Yes,” she affirmed, her voice husky. “Millions.”
With that promise in his heart, Ryuunosuke nodded. What was a couple of hours of work if endless kisses from Susato were waiting for him on the other end? Even the cold bothered him little. The rain may as well have been a symphonic accompaniment.
Furrowing his brow in determination and warm in a way he couldn’t describe, Ryuunosuke got to work.