Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The truck beeped rhythmically as it backed up into the driveway, and its tires creaked in protest as it came to a stop.

Exhaling, Meiko unlocked the vehicle and stepped out the side door, her feet landing delicately against the asphalt. She turned her gaze towards the building casting its heavy shadow over half the driveway just as the sun crept over the plane of the roof and shone almost directly into her eyes, prompting her to lift one hand to shield her face from the light.

This would be her new home.

It wasn't a terribly small building, but it was compact, its narrow lot adjacent to those of the houses on either side. As such, it boasted only a single floor and a minimal basement primarily for storage purposes. Still, the old brick-and-mortar was welcoming, and besides, it was an actual house with a yard—a private outdoor space she could plant flowers and do whatever she pleased in. That alone was enough for her purposes.

She was tugged from her thoughts by the sound of high-pitched laughter, and she glanced over in surprise. Two blonde children were busy chasing each other in the adjacent yard. They seemed rather young—perhaps ten years old or so, if she wasn't mistaken—and when she looked up, they paused in their play to wave happily at her. Unsure of how else to react, she waved back.

Right. A new place meant new neighbors, she thought to herself as she began unloading the back of the truck. She hoped they would be nice. And even if they weren't, there was a tangible distance between their dwellings now. That, at least, should make things bearable.

It took half an hour for her to transfer her depressingly meager belongings into the house and another several hours to set up the essentials. Finally, she breathed a sigh of relief and all but flung herself onto her mattress. The old springs squeaked, and she rolled over so she could face upwards towards the ceiling.

Her shoulders and back ached from exertion, and her hands burned from the friction of being chafed against all day. She winced as she rubbed at her arm muscles to soothe the soreness.

From her pocket, her phone rang, and she shifted to pick it up. It clicked as she held it up to her ear. "Hello?"

"Hello," was the response. "How was your move?"

"Oh, Luka, it's you." Meiko nodded, even if the gesture was lost over the phone. "It was a tad hectic at points, but I'm happy to say I'm nearly there. Plus, the house seems pretty well-maintained, so I can't complain. I could absolutely see myself building a life here."

"That's good. Have you met any of your new neighbors?"

"Not yet." She paused, recalling the two children she had seen earlier. "Well, not properly, at least. But one of them has two kids, I think. They seem nice."

"Really? I hope the kids won't be any trouble for you."

"I hope so, too. But you know, at least we're separated by a yard rather than by a single wall if that ends up not being the case."

Their conversation turned to mindless things, and after she had hung up, Meiko watched the ceiling for a while longer, tracing the grooves and patterns in the paint and observing the way light fell against the walls.

There were still many points of uncertainty that remained yet unanswered—her new job, her neighbors, the upkeep of her house. But despite that, she was content, and she couldn't help but feel a tinge of excitement as she imagined the changes in her life that were yet to come.

The next morning dawned bright and early, and Meiko squinted against the light filtering through the curtains as she returned to wakefulness. The windows of her room faced eastward, and she was unaccustomed to her room being so flooded with sunlight upon waking up.

Stretching her arms above her head, she rose and readied herself for the day. There were boxes to unpack and furniture to be rearranged, and after that she had a grocery run to make to stock the fridge and several logistical matters to see to. There was no point in wasting time.

Meiko had just finished emptying out another box when the doorbell rang, and she straightened and blinked in confusion. Having moved only yesterday, she hardly knew anyone in the area, and she had trouble imagining who on earth would want to see her already. She peered through the peephole, and her confusion only multiplied when she recognized the two blonde children from the day before. This time, they were accompanied by an adult. Warily, she opened the door, ready to shut it at a moment's notice.

"Hello?" she ventured. "Can I help you?"

"Um..." The boy fidgeted with his hands, his gaze flickering everywhere but her face.

To his right, the girl waved and gestured towards her companions. "Hello! We're your new neighbors!" she said, and Meiko's eyes were drawn instinctively to her exuberance. "I'm Rin, and this is my dad and my twin brother Len. Nice to meet you!"

"And we, um, brought cookies," added her brother—Len. "As a welcome gift."

Meiko's eyebrows flew to her hairline in surprise, taking note of the plate in (who was presumably) their father's hands. She looked up at his face, and he smiled apologetically in response.

"I'm Kaito," he said, ducking his head slightly. From his expression, he seemed tired but cheerful, and he had a mellow, comfortable demeanor about him. "I hope we're not interrupting." He adjusted his grip on the plate before presenting it to her. "It's nothing fancy, but I promise they're good. Consider these a token of goodwill, I suppose."

Still trying to process the new turn of events, Meiko nodded dumbly, taking the cookies into her arms. "Thank you—really, you didn't have to." A pause. "And, well, I'm Meiko. I suppose we're neighbors now?"

"Sure seems like it. I hope we get along." His hands now free, Kaito laid one on each of his children's shoulders. Next to him Rin beamed, and Len managed a tentative smile.

"But we'll get out of your hair now—I'm sure you're busy, after all." With that, he turned away, steering Rin and Len back towards the driveway. She barely had a moment to utter a thanks before they were already retreating, speaking in hushed tones amongst one another.

Once they had waved goodbye, Meiko shut the door behind her, carefully setting the paper plate on the kitchen counter and unwrapping the foil. Thoughtfully, she lifted a cookie and nibbled at the edge, and her eyes widened.

It was good.

Meiko assumed that marked the end of their interactions. She started at her new job, and as the school year began it seemed the two children grew increasingly busy as well. It became an amusingly common sight to see Kaito herd Rin and Len to the bus stop in the mornings before hurrying back and then into his car looking somehow more haggard than both his children put together. Several times she thought to call out a greeting to him on his way out, but she worried how it might come off and decided against it, particularly given how pressed for time he seemed to be. He probably wouldn't appreciate being held up further than he already was.

She mentioned her new neighbors to her friends and received a variety of responses. "He brought you cookies? How sweet," Luka had remarked across the phone, a teasing note in her voice. "Maybe it will turn out to be, what's it called, a meet-cute kind of situation." Meiko, of course, had told her not to be ridiculous.

The very thought of a meet-cute, in Luka's own words, was absurd. Real life was unlike any sort of television show—after all, if things could be so amusing on their own, then there would be no need to invent television in the first place, Meiko thought dryly to herself.

Though she hardly expected to speak to her neighbors again, she was proven false when Rin and Len rang on her doorbell bright and early one weekend morning. Rubbing her eyes, she swung the door open.

"Miss Meiko! Good morning!" Rin smiled broadly—far too broadly given the hour, or so Meiko thought. It seemed this level of energy was what she should come to expect from the Rin, in stark contrast to her brother, who hovered at her side and several steps back as though he wanted to disappear from sight.

"Rin, Len, what a surprise." Meiko plastered on her most neutral smile to greet the children. "How can I help?"

"Well, it's a little embarrassing." Rin's expression turned outwardly sheepish, though she also seemed somehow unabashed. "You see, Len and I were playing outside, and we accidentally threw our ball over the fence into your backyard. Would you mind helping us retrieve it?"

Subtly, Meiko relaxed. She could certainly do at least that much. "I'd be happy to. Give me a moment—I'll be right back."

With that, she turned on her heel and made for the opposite side of her house. Their lost toy was easily found, and she hurried back, depositing it into Rin's waiting hands.

"Thank you, Miss Meiko!" Rin's smile grew wider, if such a thing were even possible.

Beside her, Len met her eyes with some degree of hesitation. "We're sorry for any trouble we may have caused," he added.

"Please, it's nothing at all." Meiko tried for her warmest tone of voice to reassure him, and he relaxed almost imperceptibly.

Having expressed their gratitude, the twins turned to leave, and she opened her mouth, feeling ill at ease watching them go so abruptly. And somewhere inside, she could admit that she was lonely—she had yet to befriend anyone in her new home far away from anything she had once considered home, and though her coworkers were friendly towards her, there remained a layer of awkwardness coating their conversations. It was pathetic, really, but Meiko hoped to prolong this interaction, if only momentarily.

"Wait, one more thing."

Questioningly, Rin and Len glanced back at her, and Meiko faltered. "I just wanted to add, um..." She racked her brain for something to say, internally cursing herself for stopping them on impulse. "Thank you for the cookies the other day," she finally settled on. "They were wonderful."

Surprised, for several moments they didn't respond. Then they beamed—even Len, who seemed like an entirely different person when he smiled, Meiko realized. It was the kind of smile that lit up his whole face at once. "Thanks!" Rin said. "We'll let Dad know that you liked them."

They headed back down her driveway, tossing the ball back and forth between them as they walked. And as Meiko shut the door behind her, she couldn't suppress the small, unbidden seed of hope that somehow, she and her new neighbors would get along.

Chapter Text

Before she knew it, several weeks had passed since Meiko moved in. She established a new normal—she woke up each morning and headed to work, catching a glimpse of Kaito with his distinctive blue hair and his twin children in the process, and then she would return in the evening and set the dining table for one. It wasn't the most exciting schedule, but she enjoyed the regular aspect of it all aside from the awful traffic she had to face going to and from work—which she made doubly sure to complain about to anyone who was willing to listen.

In her spare time, Meiko joined a local hiking group, though its numbers began to dwindle as the weather grew steadily colder. The October foliage was spectacular on her hikes, and soon she had a collection of photographs to send to all her friends from back home. She invested in a gym membership to keep herself active even on cold days, and now and then she also browsed through various websites and catalogs, picking out flowers and other plants she hoped to grow come spring. (She pretended all the activity wasn't merely a front to stave off her own loneliness.)

Her easy routine was interrupted once more by the ringing of the doorbell one Saturday afternoon, and she frowned as she made for the door.

"Hello? Who...hm?" She blinked, taking in the sight before her. On the other side of the doorway stood Kaito, looking sheepish and holding a bag in his arms. He shuffled back and forth, his skittishness oddly reminiscent of his son Len, and then spoke.

"I, uh, heard you liked the cookies from the other week."

She hesitated, not following his words. "I did—they were lovely. Thank you for them, by the way. I don't believe I've had the chance to say so in person."

He smiled, holding out the bag towards her. "I'm glad to hear that. Well, since you liked the cookies, I thought you might like these, too." He forced a laugh, rubbing endearingly at the back of his neck. "Sorry, this is awkward, I know."

Dumbfounded, she reached for it, peering inside. "These are...?"

"Just some pastries. Only if you want them, of course."

Surprised, Meiko looked up to meet his eyes, and despite his awkwardness his gaze was clear and even. "Please, you didn't have to," she said. "This is so much for someone you hardly know."

"It's really nothing at all." Kaito shrugged, still wearing his lopsided grin. "Consider it simply a part of being a good neighbor. Besides, Rin and Len had some friends over earlier today and I baked too many pastries for their playdate. If we kept them around, I'd probably just end up eating them all myself, so really you're doing me a favor by taking them off my hands." Another laugh, this time at his own expense.

His laughter was infectious, and Meiko found herself joining along, too. With a start, she realized that until now, she had only ever encountered Kaito alongside his children or captured glimpses of him as he rushed between what seemed like ten tasks at once, meaning this was the first time she had spoken to him individually. Speaking with him was pleasant, she thought. He had an easygoing, gentle nature that was easy to relax around.

"All right," she conceded, her laughter finally dying down, "I'll gladly take them, then. Thank you."

"No, thank you," he returned, eyes twinkling. "Well, I'd best hurry back—the home won't clean itself, after all. You know how it can be with children." He rolled his eyes good-naturedly, and so she knew his exasperation was only in jest.

Meiko nodded, a smile on her lips. "Take care, Kaito," she called after his retreating form, and he held up a hand in goodbye.

As the seasons turned and autumn began in earnest, Meiko found herself encountering her neighbors more and more often. She at last overcame her hesitance to do so and waved to Kaito when she saw him in the mornings, and he cheerfully returned the gesture each time despite how frazzled he appeared. Sometimes she would pass by the twins playing outside as she returned home, and they would strike up a brief conversation on her way to the door.

One day in early October, she drove past Rin and Len, who were sitting cross-legged on the sidewalk and engaged in conversation. When they spotted her, they both shot to their feet and chased after her vehicle, and she paused on the side of the road, rolling down her window. "Is something the matter?"

Rin nodded, a conflicted look on her face. "We're trying to decide on something really important! But you can't tell Dad any of this, at least not yet," she added, eyebrows scrunching together. "Promise?"

"I promise—I won't breathe a word of what you say to him," Meiko replied, bemused by the girl's seriousness.

"Well, our birthday is a couple months from now," Len said, looking deep in thought. To Meiko's delight, he had grown more comfortable around her over the course of the past month, and though he was still subdued compared to his sister, she was happy he had begun to speak so freely with her.

"That sounds exciting." She carefully maneuvered her car into her driveway and shut off the engine to prevent it from idling. The twins ambled after her as her car shifted into a crawl, and that in combination with their blonde hair and short statures gave Meiko the sudden mental image of being trailed by a clumsy but persistent pair of ducklings. She nearly burst out laughing at the thought, but cleared her throat instead. "So, your birthday—which day is it?"

"December twenty-seventh, right at the end of the year! The only thing is..." Len frowned.

"We're trying to decide on what to ask Dad to get us as a gift, but we haven't been able to pick just one thing," Rin finished for him. "The trouble with birthdays is that they only come once a year, right? So it has to be something special—something we really want." She placed great emphasis on the last part.

Meiko paused, trying to come up with a reply. "That's very smart of the two of you to think over your decision carefully," she finally said, and the twins beamed. "If I may ask, what are your options right now?"

"Well, we've been thinking of asking for the new video game that's coming out next month," said Rin. "We could each get a copy and then play together! That would be fun."

"But there's these giant lego sets that would be cool, too," added Len. "Each structure is part of a series, so we could each build one and put them alongside each other."

They discussed the issue for a while longer, gradually narrowing down the list of potential candidates until finally, Rin and Len seemed satisfied.

"Thanks, Miss Meiko," said Len. "We'll think about it a bit more, but that helped."

"Always happy to lend an ear." Carefully, Meiko propped her arms up on the car windowsill and sent a mental apology to Kaito's wallet for the advice she had given the twins. "Just a few more months, right? I'm looking forward to it."

"We are, too! Wait—when is your birthday, by the way?" Rin spoke as though the thought had just occurred to her, and Meiko paused.

It wasn't a question she had expected to be asked, but she supposed there was no harm in answering, so she decided to humor them. "My birthday? It's on November the fifth. Why?"

"Nothing, I was just curious." Rin's eyes widened. "Wait, that's next month! That's super soon!"

"It certainly is." Meiko kept her voice deliberately light, though internally she winced at growing yet another year older. Despite that, part of her still felt so adrift, like she knew nothing of what she wanted from her life.

Still, it was impossible to feel down when faced with Rin and Len's matching smiles, so she stored away her feelings of worry and dread for later. If nothing else, she was glad for the twins. It was strange, and she couldn't quite pinpoint exactly when the shift had occurred, but somehow lately she found herself looking forward to coming home and speaking with them in the evenings. She liked them, she decided—they were good kids.

The leaves turned red and yellow on their branches as the days grew shorter and shorter still, and soon a persistent undercurrent of chill settled into the air. Rin and Len had switched from light shirts and shorts to jackets and long pants, and sometimes in the mornings Meiko would catch a glimpse of Kaito trying to wrangle them with varying degrees of success into their warm clothes. One particular morning she made eye contact with him from across the yard, and he ducked his head, as though embarrassed to be seen in such a state. She giggled to herself.

She offered Kaito feedback on his latest batch of pastries during a chance encounter one evening, which he seemed to take as an invitation to drop by whenever he pleased. Often, he visited with his newest baking creations in tow, including new fall-inspired flavors for Meiko to try as autumn took root.

"Here, I added a touch of pumpkin spice this time," Kaito said. "It's a subtle change, but what are your thoughts?"

Meiko took a bite and chewed slowly, trying to formulate a response. "I like it! The earthy undertones complement the base sweetness, which gives it a more complex flavor."

At that, he relaxed. "That's good. I was trying to come up with something for the twins' Halloween party at the end of this month, so your opinions are greatly appreciated." His tongue poked out from his mouth as he jotted down a quick note, and she watched him, bemused. It seemed that Rin and Len were never far from his mind, and distantly she mused that some people were perhaps particularly well-suited to parenthood.

And he really was easy to get along with, she noted. He offered no judgment, only sympathy and a listening ear whenever she spoke. She told him a little about her life—her friends from back home, her decision to move, her aspirations to plant a garden in her yard come spring. In return, he would update her with the latest antics Rin and Len had gotten up to, and just from the way his face lit up when he spoke of them it was clear that he loved his children very much. It was heartwarming to witness. Sometimes when Meiko found a story particularly amusing, she would even relay them to her friends over the telephone, and they came to expect regular updates on the funny children from next door.

"Wait, don't tell me." Over the phone, Luka's voice was stricken. "Those kids ate the entire container of fish food?"

"And they enjoyed it, too." Meiko laughed incredulously. "Something about wanting to learn what it's like to be a fish, or so I'm told? And when their father came around to pick them up and saw what they had done...well, he started by apologizing profusely to the friend's parents, the poor guy."

As she and Kaito grew more comfortable with one another, she could admit to herself that he helped ease her anxieties with living in a foreign place all on her own, and the pervasive feeling of loneliness that followed her. It was human nature to seek a genuine connection with others, and it was in Kaito that she finally found it. She came to enjoy his company, a sentiment he thankfully seemed to share.

"You know, I forgot how much I enjoy talking to adults who aren't my actual coworkers or the parents of Rin and Len's friends," he said with a laugh, and though she felt sorry for him, she was also pleased he considered her to be something of a friend.

In the meantime, he kept bringing her pastries in almost alarming volumes—cakes, tarts, brownies, and everything in between. She couldn't help but feel guilty that he had so much to offer her whereas she had nothing to give in return, but he promised her she had nothing to worry about. "Want to know something, Meiko? I stress bake," he said to her, a conspiratorial twinkle in his eye. "I took up baking sweets as a hobby and to help keep the twins happy, but nowadays I do it compulsively. So really, you're giving me an outlet, of sorts." And Meiko supposed she couldn't complain, especially since she liked the idea of being able to help Kaito, even if only in some small way.

He certainly wasn't lying about being stressed, though—she often spotted him looking unbelievably weary as he hurried out the door in the morning or brought the kids home in the afternoon, and she wondered if he ever had a moment to himself to simply exist.

Occasionally, she also wondered if the twins had no other parent to speak of who could bear some of the responsibility in his place, but if they did, she saw neither hide nor hair of them. Privately, she was surprised—Kaito seemed like the type to be a doting husband, and she imagined anyone would be lucky to have him. She thought several times to ask when he would mention being busy dealing with his children, but she knew it would be rude to breach the topic.

The weeks continued to fly by. Halloween was fast approaching, and Meiko was occupied hanging little light-up bats from the trees in her yard when the twins called out to her and made their way up her driveway.

"Miss Meiko! Um..." Len came to a stop before her and toed shyly at a rock near his shoe. "Could we ask you something?"

She blinked, surprised, but finished propping the bat in her hands against the branches before turning to face him fully. "Of course. What's the matter?"

Rin fiddled with something in her hands, then held a sheet of paper towards her so she could see. "Would you like to buy some chocolate bars from us for our school fundraiser?" The words were even and practiced, as though she had rehearsed them many times.

A brief moment of silence. Both twins looked nervous as they awaited her answer, and Meiko's expression softened. She supposed she could she could spare some money towards supporting the local school system, particularly if it was Rin and Len asking. "I'd be happy to."

An exhale, and the tension drained from both children. "Thank you," said Len. "Um, how many would you like to purchase?"

The twins walked her through the process of filling out the order form. Then they collected her payment in an envelope, promising that they would deliver it to their school and return with her order in a couple weeks' time.

"Thank you again!" Rin chirped. She tilted her head as a thought came to her. "Speaking of chocolate bars, do you like sweets, Miss Meiko?"

"Do I like sweets? Hm..." She gave the question some thought. "I suppose I like them well enough, but they're not my favorite." It was something she appreciated about Kaito's baked goods—they were just sweet enough, but not so much as to be overwhelming. Since they were originally meant for two already very energetic children who certainly didn't need any sort of energy boost, he had probably prepared them deliberately to be lower in sugar content.

Slowly, Len nodded, as if deep in thought. "Really? Me and Rin both like candy, actually."

"We get it from Dad," Rin added matter-of-factly. "He's such a glutton when it comes to sweets! Especially ice cream." The girl leaned in and lowered her voice as though revealing some great secret, and Meiko raised her eyebrows to indicate she was listening. "You know, even though he always tells us to watch our 'sugar intake', sometimes we'll catch him buying candy when it's on sale after Halloween and stashing it all away for himself. Can you believe it?"

"Your dad?" Meiko didn't bother to hide her amusement, and she filed the information away for later. She tried to imagine the ever-responsible Kaito engaged in something so childish, and a smile found its way onto her face. "I'm shocked—he always seems so put together!"

"Well, that's what he tries hard to be, but really he's a huge scatterbrain." Len laughed at their father's expense.

"Although that's why we love him!" added Rin, and Meiko smiled indulgently. They did appreciate him despite his faults, after all—they were part of his charm.

Energy and anticipation built up steadily across the month of October until they at last reached a breaking point with the arrival of Halloween, which brought with it hordes of eager children and their accompanying guardians.

With her candy bowl stocked and her house adequately adorned with colorful decorations, Meiko was prepared. Even so, the influx of trick-or-treaters was somewhat overwhelming—she hadn't imagined there being quite so many children living in the neighborhood. She kept a smile plastered on her face and tried to think of something nice to say to every visitor, but eventually her cheeks began to ache with the effort.

The sky gradually grew darker as white clouds turned gray-tinged with gloom. One group of children had just stomped away from her door when the bell chimed once again, and she fixed her warmest expression on her face before swinging the door open.

"Happy Halloween!" she greeted just as her visitors said, "Trick or treat, Miss Meiko!"

She blinked.

At her doorstep were two very familiar children, dressed in a set of very unfamiliar costumes. They seemed to be inspired by seafaring explorers of some sort, and the yellow accents of their clothing matched well with their blonde hair. Standing several feet behind them was their father, who too was dressed up in costume. His drab work clothes had been replaced with a youthful-looking jacket, and even his usual scarf had been fashioned into something of a cape.

"What lovely costumes! And who might the three of you be?" she said, donning a mask of cluelessness, and she saw the way Kaito's lips quirked upwards at the act.

Len burst out laughing. "Miss Meiko, it's us! I'm Len!" he managed, gesturing towards himself. "Can't you tell?"

"Why, you're right—I almost didn't recognize you with your costumes on!" she said, playing along, and the twins dissolved into a fit of giggles.

"You're silly, Miss Meiko," Len said, shaking his head, and she gave him a knowing wink.

Remembering the purpose of their visit, Meiko pivoted on her heel to reach for the candy bowl. "Here, please, take as much as you'd like. I'd never deny my favorite neighbors, after all—even if they had me fooled at first with their costumes!"

Rin grinned up at her as she dug a greedy hand into the bowl. "Thanks for the sweets! But you didn't dress up yourself, did you?"

"Oh no, I didn't have any good ideas this year." At Rin's thoughtful expression, Meiko added, "But maybe I'll give it a try next Halloween. Perhaps you could help me come up with a costume if you'd like?"

At that, both twins beamed. Shamelessly Rin scooped an extra handful or two of candy into her bag, and tutting in exasperation Kaito steered her by the shoulder away from the door. "I think that's more than enough for you, Rin." She pouted in response.

Her indignation didn't last long, though, and she grew cheerful once more as she and her brother waved goodbye. "Have a great night!" they called in unison.

"You as well," Meiko returned, the smile on her face feeling strangely more natural and comfortable than it had several minutes ago. "Oh, and—Kaito?"

He paused, then turned to glance questioningly back at her over his shoulder.

"I'm surprised you didn't want any candy for yourself, given what the twins had to say about your preference for sweets," she said, unable to resist teasing him a little.

His eyebrows flew up in surprise as he processed her words, and then he threw his head back and laughed—a genuine type of laugh, one that came straight came from the belly and gave Meiko no other choice but to grin along.

"Well, Meiko," he said, equally amused, "while I concede your point, I'd wager no one here has a bigger sweet tooth than Rin, who absconded with several handfuls of candy and not so much as a thank you." Rin turned back to stick her tongue out at her father in response, and Meiko couldn't help the laugh that escaped her, bubbling up directly from within and making her feel warm right down to the core.

Chapter Text

Despite her dread, Meiko's birthday crept up on her, and with a start she realized it had been roughly two months since she had moved into her new home. Internally, she winced at the reminder of how quickly time had passed.

Maybe she would head to the store and buy herself a cake to mark the occasion, she thought. But inside she missed her family and her friends. Usually they would do something together to celebrate, and in their absence she couldn't help but feel lonely.

Still, there was no time to feel sorry for herself. She woke up and headed for the gym—her birthday was no excuse to slack off, after all, even if it also happened to fall on a weekend—and then went home to take a long soak and browse online for things she could buy for herself. The fabric of her bedsheets were cool and comfortable against her legs as she scrolled aimlessly through her phone, and she tried to tell herself she was content with the way things were. For lunch, she treated herself to takeout from her favorite place, and in the afternoon, she called her family and friends, each of whom sounded far more excited about the prospect of Meiko being one year older than she herself did.

"You may disagree, but I still think it's something worth celebrating," said Luka. "Besides, if you play your cards right it's a great opportunity to finesse your friends into paying for the things you like." A laugh.

"Well, that might be true, but I hardly think that applies here, seeing as I don't have any close friends nearby to speak of." Meiko's voice was dry. She quirked her ear upwards as the doorbell rang. "Wait, hang on—someone's at the door. I should go get that."

"Oh? Expecting visitors today?"

"Don't be ridiculous—you know that's not the case. It's probably just another solicitor or something." With that, Meiko swung her legs onto the floor and rose to her feet. "Well, I'm sorry to cut this short, but thanks for calling."

"Don't worry, I understand." A brief pause. "Hm, could it be your neighbors coming to wish you a happy birthday?" Then infuriatingly, she ended the call before Meiko could formulate a proper response.

Sighing in exasperation, Meiko headed towards the front door. To her surprise, though, Luka was right—on the other side of the peephole were the twins and their father, the three of them wearing matching smiles.

"Miss Meiko!" Rin and Len exclaimed, and then Kaito joined in on their, "Happy birthday!"

She blinked, working her throat several times in mute shock. "You remembered," she managed, eyes wide.

Len smiled. "Are you surprised? You told us the date a few weeks ago." Meiko thought back to their conversation from October she had written off as just another after-work chat, and she found herself suddenly overcome with emotion at the thoughtful gesture. They remembered her birthday. They remembered her birthday.

"We brought cake, too!" Rin gestured to where it rested in her father's hands. "Dad made it, and we helped with the decorating."

"You guys..." Meiko trailed off. She had resigned herself to spending her birthday alone, and the sudden realization that her neighbors cared about her as a person, enough to want to celebrate alongside her, made something foreign catch in her throat.

Her face felt oddly hot, and she had trouble meeting their eyes as they awaited her response, completely oblivious to her inner turmoil. "This means a lot. Um...come in, why don't you?" She managed a smile. "It would be a waste to eat such a lovely cake by my lonesome, after all!"

Meiko held the door open for Kaito, whose hands were occupied with the cake, and the children's eyes roamed in hungry curiosity across the interior of her house. She realized this was the first time they had stepped across the threshold of her living space, and she felt almost vulnerable to reveal such a personal part of herself, but stubbornly she kept her spine straight and her eyes trained directly ahead. She had nothing to be ashamed of.

Kaito set the cake on the kitchen table, removing the wrapping so she could see. It really was lovely, and its frosting was immaculate save for the piped letters along the top, which had clearly been added by Rin and Len. She couldn't help but smile when she saw the way the M in her name took up more than half the upper surface, leaving little room for the rest of the letters to squeeze together in a nearly illegible jumble.

"It's beautiful," she said nonetheless, and the twins beamed with pride. "Was it the two of you who wrote my name here?" Eagerly, they nodded, and she made a show of tracing each letter with her finger.

"Let's see..." Tongue poking out in concentration, Kaito dug around in his jacket pocket for a bag, from which he procured several candles and a lighter. With great care, he arranged the candles along the cake, then lit each of them in succession. The warm glow of the flames tinted the pale walls of Meiko's kitchen in warm shades of orange.

"Well," Kaito prompted, glancing between his children with an expression of mirth, "shall we?"

Rin nodded, and after a moment of anticipation they broke into song. Meiko felt almost embarrassed to be the subject of such attention, but she smiled, secretly pleased.

"...Happy birthday to you," they finished, erupting into cheers and applause. Obligingly, Meiko leaned forward, taking a brief pause to wonder what she should ask for. Involuntarily, her eyes flitted across the room, landing on each of their smiling faces in turn, and without giving it any further thought she wished that she could always feel as warm inside as she did in this moment. And then she blew out the candles, and they were extinguished in a puff of smoke.

"Congratulations," said Kaito. She looked up into his eyes, and his expression was so open and genuine she felt her stomach squirm in response.

She cut slices from the cake for each of them, and eagerly they settled around the table to eat. To Meiko's delight, the cake was delicious—the batter was light and fluffy, with a mature type of sweetness that the frosting was not so heavy as to bury. It went down easily, and she soon found herself eying her empty plate and debating whether or not to go for seconds.

Had Kaito really baked this? She thought of how busy he always seemed to be in the mornings and how utterly exhausted he appeared in the evenings, and then in her mind she tried to picture that same man in the kitchen, with a thousand and one tasks to tend to and two very demanding young children to look after, and instead of addressing any of them rolling up his sleeves and baking a cake for someone who could only vaguely be considered a friend. Her chest grew tight.

What had she done to deserve a friend as kind as he was?

"There's two other things we have to give to you," Kaito said, returning her from thoughts that were miles and miles away, "and the first one's from me." Furrowing his brow in concentration, he dug around in his other pocket and then presented her with something. On instinct, she took it, words escaping her in her moment of need.

"They're various seeds and bulbs," he elaborated. "You said you wanted to plant a garden, didn't you? These are some flowers that have grown well here for me in the past, so I figured you might appreciate them. Maybe the three of us could help you plant them come spring."

"Yeah, that—" Meiko swallowed, trying and failing utterly to hide how touched she was. "That'd be great. Thanks."

Kaito watched her for a moment longer, something undecipherable reflected in his smiling face. Then he turned his gaze over his shoulder and extended a hand. "There's one other thing we have for you, and this one's from the twins—I wasn't involved at all. Well, Rin and Len?"

"Oh!" Surprised at being addressed, Len drew something out from behind him and shyly presented it to her. "This is for you. Happy birthday, Miss Meiko."

With trembling fingers, Meiko took it from his hands and scanned her eyes over the front. It was a birthday card, she realized with a start, and she was so moved she couldn't help but curl her lip in, unable to speak. On the cover was a drawing of what she assumed to be herself and the twins, with the words Happy birthday written above in colorful block letters.

She flipped it open to read through the note on its interior. Inside, Rin and Len had wished her well, expressing how they liked her and hoped to become even better friends. And though the message was short, it had clearly been written with the heartfelt honesty of children. Her expression softened.

"Do you like it, Miss Meiko?" asked Rin, and she looked up.

Remembering her smile, she turned to fully face the twins. "Please, just call me Meiko—I think we know each other well enough for that," she said. "And thank you, truly. I love it."

Hesitantly, Meiko rang on the doorbell, then took a step back.

She felt...unbelievably foolish. Not for the first time, she questioned what exactly she was doing. The plastic bag hanging from her hand crinkled and rustled in the wind, drawing her attention back to it, and she grimaced.

Nearly one week had passed since her birthday. She could still recall the taste of Kaito's cake on her tongue, and the birthday card Rin and Len had thoughtfully made her had made its home on the entryway table, where it sat propped up for any visitors to see—which included the twins themselves, who practically puffed up with pride each time they visited and saw their card from the door.

Having been touched by the way her neighbors had celebrated her birthday, Meiko decided to return the favor. She recalled the twins describing their father's incurable sweet tooth, and on a whim she had picked up a tub of (purportedly gourmet) ice cream at the store. Now that she was here to actually deliver it to him, though, she couldn't help but have second thoughts.

It was a kind gesture, certainly, but her store-bought offering was in no way equivalent to their handmade cake, crafted and baked with love and care. Besides, it was November—nearly winter, really. In just a few short weeks the floors of her house would be too cold to venture out onto without slippers. Kaito didn't seem like a mean-spirited sort of person, but perhaps even he would think her strange for gifting ice cream during one of the coldest months of the year.

A set of footsteps echoed from inside the house, and she snapped back to reality just as the door swung open.

"Meiko?" said Kaito, a note of confusion in his voice. His eyes flickered from her face down to the bag in her hands and then back to her face. "Is something the matter?"

"Hey," she said lamely, shaking the bag back and forth. "I got you something. It's small, but..."

He glanced down again, and then his face lit up. "Oh, Meiko—you didn't have to, really. Here, do you want to step inside? No pressure—I understand if you have something you need to get back to."

"Oh no, there's nothing of the sort. You sure you're fine with me coming in?" At his nod, she stepped indoors and trailed him down the hallway.

Helpfully, her mind reminded her this was the first time she had seen the inside of her neighbors' house, and she tried to swallow her trepidation. Having likely been built by the same contractors, its layout was almost exactly the same as hers, and it was a warm, homey place precisely because it was so small. It was also clearly the home of children, with colorful kid-sized shoes lined up on the welcome mat and various artworks hanging from the walls and the characteristic mess that followed kids everywhere, despite what must have been their father's best efforts.

Interspersed between framed school projects and finger paintings were photographs of Rin and Len and Kaito beaming at the camera in a range of poses, with one notable exception—a sole image captured a flustered Kaito trying to keep hold of a bawling toddler-sized Len as a confused Rin watched from one side. Meiko's lips quirked into a smile as she scanned the photographs.

(Yet none of the pictures showed any indication of ever having another parent in the family, she registered in the back of her mind.)

Kaito looked so very young in some of them—almost achingly so, Meiko thought. Without meaning to, her eyes fixed on his back as the light from the kitchen flooded over his form, outlining the set of his shoulders and the slope of his spine. Here in his own home, he seemed somehow infinitely more relaxed. Gone was the frantic, haggard man she saw in the mornings, tension wound up so tight in the muscles of his neck he looked as though he might snap at any given moment. In his place was a father who clearly loved his children and treasured the precious slivers of time he could spend with them. His starched button-ups had been replaced by a worn, faded T-shirt, and his hair stuck up at various angles from what she could only imagine was not having been combed in the morning, although he ran his hands through his hair so often that it was always a little disheveled by the time she saw him.

He led her into the kitchen, gesturing for her to leave the bag on the table. As she entered, two blonde heads popped up from behind the couch in the adjacent living room.

"Meiko?" said Len.

"It's Meiko!" cried Rin, shooting to her feet from where she was fiddling with the television remote. "Why are you here?"

"I brought ice cream, as thanks for the cake you brought me last week." To illustrate her point she drew it from its bag, and amusingly Kaito's face lit up like a child's on Christmas, though he quickly schooled his expression into something more neutral, with limited success. The twins had been right on the mark about his tastes, then.

Seemingly unconcerned with their father's dignity, Rin said, "Oh, ice cream! I bet Dad's happy about that!" To her side, Kaito's face turned pink, and he ducked his head with a sheepish half-smile.

He cleared his throat, regaining some semblance of composure, then turned to face Meiko. "Actually," he said, shifting his weight from foot to foot, "we were about to watch a movie together—we do this every Saturday, and it's something of a tradition. Would you like to join us?"

Her eyes widened in surprise. "I wouldn't be...intruding, or anything like that?"

"Don't be silly." Kaito's face was warm. "Rin and Len would love to have you here. Isn't that right, you two?" They nodded in agreement.

And so, somehow, Meiko ended up seated on the couch beside two very energetic children and their more subdued father, a bowl of the ice cream she had brought in each of their laps, watching some mindless children's movie they had rented from the store. It had some ridiculous premise, over-the-top effects, unconvincing voice acting, and a flow that was hard to follow, but despite all that, she couldn't imagine a better way to spend her Saturday night.

One of the more comedic characters introduced to them early on was a hapless man who often found himself stuck in all sorts of unfortunate predicaments. At one point he grew distracted by a dessert stand as he rushed between errands, prompting him to trip over himself and spill all the contents of his bag in the process, and Rin gestured at the screen and burst out laughing.

"Look! He's just like Dad!" she declared, kicking her feet in the air and hitting one hand against the arm of the couch.

Without thinking, Meiko voiced her agreement aloud. "He is, isn't he?" She didn't bother to hide the mirth in her voice.

Her words caught up with her, and Meiko froze. Realizing what she had said, she hesitantly turned to face Kaito, worried that she may have overstepped some unspoken boundary, but he only laughed, showing no sign of having taken offense. If anything, his eyes twinkled unmistakably with amusement.

At that, she relaxed. Rin and Len continued to comment on the movie's plot, and Kaito continued to watch in complete puzzlement, and Meiko leaned back, allowing herself to settle against the cushions of the couch and lose herself in this small, unexpected easy evening with her neighbor's family.

Meiko was just about to leave for home one evening when her phone rang.

She frowned when she recognized the caller—of all people, it was Kaito. The two of them had exchanged numbers several weeks back as a contingency measure, mostly out of concern if she were to witness anything happen to the twins, but thankfully until now she hadn't been forced to make use of his contact.

"Kaito?" she said as she picked up the call. "Is something the matter?"

"Meiko," he responded, sounding out of breath and very much at the end of his rope, "I am so sorry, but I wanted to ask you for a favor. Please don't feel obligated to agree."

Instantly, her face turned serious. "If it's something I can do, I'd be happy to." As his neighbor, she hardly minded lending the occasional hand, after all.

"The twins have their kid soccer game today," he said, and he really did sound regretful, "but I'm held up at work. I hate to ask this of you, but could you please pick them up on my behalf? I can't have them waiting alone for me in the cold, and the parent I usually call in situations like this is out of town, and—well." He cut himself off and cleared his throat. "It would be a huge help."

At that, she relaxed, relieved it wasn't anything more serious. "I can do that. Where do I need to pick them up from?"

He read the address off to her, and she pulled it up online. "Oh, it's practically on my way back from work," she remarked, pleased. That was convenient. "Yeah, it's really no trouble at all. I just have to pick them up and bring them home?"

"That's correct. They each have a set of keys, so they can get inside by themselves." An exhale. The static crackled over the phone speaker. "Thank you Meiko, really—just, thank you."

They said their goodbyes, and Meiko finished packing her things. Then with a heave, she slung her bag over her shoulder and headed for the parking garage.

Like she had mentioned, the soccer fields really weren't out of the way for her, and she pulled into the parking lot just as the game was starting to draw to a close. Curious, she stepped in behind the soccer moms already crowded along the edge of the field and peered over their shoulders.

The match was fast-paced, punctuated by the occasional whistle or cheer. The crowd would grow tense and hushed whenever the ball neared a goal, and then rustle in vague disappointment when a team failed to score. Meiko couldn't quite follow the game, having never known much about sports, but she could easily pick out Rin and Len by their distinctive bright yellow hair.

From what she could tell, they were good, and she was surprised by how much more effective they were as a team. Rin was a primarily offensive player—she was agile and light on her feet, and her small stature allowed her to slip between gaps in the opposing team and close the distance to the goal. In contrast, Len's thoughtful nature translated into a more defensive role. He kept a focused eye out for any misplays that he could punish, positioning himself in such ways that would allow him to intercept the ball and then, smoothly and without hesitation, pass them over to Rin. It was like they were on a wavelength, communicating without any need to speak. Privately, Meiko wondered if their familiarity with one another aided in their teamwork.

Even so, she couldn't help but notice both twins seemed uncharacteristically distracted. They occasionally glanced over at the edge of the field, and one time as Len searched the crowd, his gaze met hers.

His eyes widened.

He was so caught off guard that he fumbled, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process, but somehow he managed to recover and redirect his attention back towards the game.

Other than his brief mishap, Rin and Len's team had a dominating performance, and as the final whistle blew half the crowd erupted into cheers. Politely, Meiko applauded along.

"We made the playoffs! We're going to the playoffs!" one of the children was saying as he dashed up to his mother, his excitement palpable.

"Meiko! Meiko!" came another voice from behind her, and she whirled around. Rin and Len were waving at her as they weaved their way through the crowd, both of them still fighting to catch their breath as the adrenaline wore off.

"Meiko, why are you here? Did Dad come? Where is he?" cried Rin as she came to a stop, her eyes darting back and forth expectantly as if hoping Kaito would somehow materialize out of thin air.

"One question at a time, please." Meiko laughed, leaning down to be closer to eye level. "I'm here to pick you up. Your father couldn't make it, I'm afraid—he was held up at work and asked me to drive you home in his place."

"Oh." The girl deflated, seeming suddenly crestfallen. Beside her, Len scrubbed his shoe back and forth along the turf, refusing to meet her eyes.

An unexpected wave of sympathy swelled in her chest, and Meiko's expression softened. She tried to imagine herself in the twins' position, and they must be very disappointed indeed, having played their best while constantly searching the crowd for a father who never showed, and to what seemed like an important game, no less.

"I may have only caught the tail end of the match," she tried, hoping to cheer them up, "but it seemed to me that the two of you played very well. I was impressed. Congratulations on your well-earned victory."

Tentatively, Len looked up. "You...really think so?"

Meiko searched their expressions, and the raw vulnerability she saw in them, and how achingly insecure they seemed in times like these, and tried to ignore the squeezing sensation in her chest. Kaito, the person they really wanted to hear from, wasn't here. She herself was a poor substitute, and she could never take his place, not really, but even so, they deserved all the validation she could give to them and more—these earnest, guileless kids.

Gently, she smiled. "Yeah. You two were great out there."

At last, Len relaxed. Though the twins were still more subdued than usual, it seemed she had succeeded in lifting their spirits at least a little. Rin's face brightened, and Len's hands unclenched from around his sides.

"Well, I've parked over there." Thinking quickly of ways to make up for Kaito's absence, Meiko suggested, "You know, your father probably won't be home for a while yet, and I bet you two are hungry." As if on cue, Len's stomach growled, and he flushed. Politely ignoring the interruption, she continued, "Why don't we get pizza together? And if there's still room, we can go for ice cream after."

At that, Rin perked up, her interest piqued. "Really?"

"Really. Come on." Their disappointment momentarily dispelled, the twins piled into her car, and Meiko drove them down the road to the pizza place she often passed by on her way home. As she drove, the twins discussed the match from the backseat, recounting key plays and decisions that had been made throughout the game. It was all nonsense to Meiko and flew completely over her head, but she was glad to see them looking more lively and animated than they had been before, even if they seemed still a touch forlorn.

She eased her car into a park, and the three of them headed into the building together and waited to be brought their menus. Eagerly, Rin flipped open to the first page, and against her will Meiko found herself mediating a heated argument over the relative merits of pineapple on pizza.

"I don't care what you have to say, it's just wrong." Rin upturned her nose. "The flavors don't match in the slightest. I mean, the pineapple's all sweet, and you want it to go together with the salty cheese and sauce? It's nasty, is what it is!"

"But it is good!" protested Len, equally heated. Meiko rarely saw him as impassioned as he was now, and she fought to hide her amusement. "It's because the flavors are different that makes it all come together. Plus, I've seen you eat all sorts of gross stuff when Dad's not looking, so I don't know why you have such a problem with putting pineapple on pizza!"

So caught up in their discussion as they were, they nearly forgot to actually look through the menu in time to place their order. When their food finally arrived, Rin and Len dug in almost ravenously, tearing through the pizza at a rate that was almost frightening.

Absently Meiko wondered if they behaved in the same way at home as well, and she suppressed a wince at the sheer volume of food Kaito must have to cook to put up with their collective appetite. No wonder he had taken to stress baking—with two very hungry mouths to feed, it was better to make too much than too little, and his unfortunate habit had probably spiraled from there.

She thought that was the end of it, but being growing children with terrible sweet tooths, they demanded she buy them ice cream, so she packed the leftovers in a box to give to Kaito and led them across the street. Rin ordered a sorbet and Len chose a banana split, and while both children were shivering by the time they finished their dessert, they stubbornly ate up every drop.

"Th-This is awesome!" Len's words were barely distinguishable through the chattering of his teeth. A smudge of chocolate had found its way onto his nose, and Meiko suppressed a smile. "Dad almost never lets us get ice cream after games!"

Rin nodded, wiping roughly at her mouth as Meiko contained her amusement at how it only served to spread sorbet all over her face. She turned to glance up at Meiko, and a sudden sincerity overtook her expression. "Thanks," she said, grinning. "This was fun!"

The gesture was oddly heartfelt, and Meiko shook her head. "You don't have to thank me. I had fun, too."

Since it was November, it was already dark when Meiko pulled into the driveway. She had just helped the twins, now sleepy and full, from her car when a set of headlights flooded the street, illuminating the front of the house as another car pulled up beside her.

She heard more than saw its door swing open, and then Kaito stepped out, looking weary to the point of utter exhaustion. He yawned and scrubbed at his eyes before running a hand through his hair, leaving it even more chaotic than it had already been. His bag hung so low on his shoulder it looked to be in danger of slipping off, and his jacket was piled into a crumpled heap in his arms, one sleeve trailing out behind him.

Rin and Len, however, perked up instantly upon seeing their father return home. "Dad, Dad!" cried Rin, bounding up to him and outstretching her arms for a hug. "Guess what?"

He whirled around to face her, and instantly the open weariness in his expression morphed into a warm, practiced smile. It was as if a mask had fallen into place, and it made something uncomfortable twist deep inside Meiko's chest.

Laughing indulgently, Kaito deposited his bag into the grass and crouched down to snag Rin beneath her arms so he could lift her into the air and spin her around. She whooped and shrieked in response. "What is it—my, you're getting big!" he said with a breathy laugh, and she giggled as he set her down.

"Well, we won our game tonight! That means we get to go to the playoffs, and if we keep winning we might even win the whole tournament!"

"Really? That's wonderful!" said Kaito, pausing to lean over to catch Len in a hug as well. The boy scrunched up his face at the gesture of affection, but Meiko caught the way he leaned in just the slightest fraction. "What was the final score?"

They spoke for a while longer as Kaito slung his bag back over his shoulder and rearranged the things in his arms. When they brought up how Meiko had taken them to dinner, he glanced up in surprise, eyes trailing to where she stood alone at the end of the driveway as if he had just remembered her presence. Her form cast a long shadow in the light from the streetlamp. For a moment, their conversation tapered into silence as they both tried to think of something to say.

"Well, I'll be heading home, then," Meiko said, awkwardly.

"I, of course. You've had to stay out unfairly late, after all." He cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable. Rin and Len observed from beside him, their matching blue eyes reflecting in the directed light of the lamp. "Here, um, I should—" He fished into his pocket and flipped open his wallet, fingers fumbling ever so slightly.

"Oh no, there's no need to pay me for dinner. Think of it as compensation for all the times you've kept me fed." When he opened his mouth to protest, she added, "Besides, like you said, isn't it all part of being a good neighbor? So it was no problem, really." She waved, turning on her heel. "Have a nice night, Kaito, Rin, Len."

"You too. And, er..." Kaito paused, tugging at his cuffs with his free hand. He dipped his head, thinking of a response, before looking directly towards her, his eyes wide and earnest. "Thank you, Meiko. What you did tonight? It really does mean a lot to me."

She froze, breath catching in her throat. Then, smiling, she inclined her head in acknowledgement, and he relaxed, seeing her off with a wave.

Once Meiko turned away, they resumed speaking amongst one another. As she made the trek back to her own home and they too headed up their driveway, their voices grew more and more distant, but she caught bits and snippets of their conversation in between the hushed whispering of the wind.

"You should have seen us out there though, Dad!"

"Yeah, we were great. Rin even scored twice tonight!"

"Is that so? I would have loved to be there. I really am sorry I missed your game."

A thoughtful expression overtook her face as Meiko came to a stop and slotted her keys into the doorknob. She stepped across the threshold to her home, footsteps echoing mournfully in the hollow space, then shut her door behind her, and with a sense of finality the warmth of their voices was at last absorbed into silence.

Chapter Text

As the weeks passed, it became something of a routine for Meiko to join her neighbors for their so-called movie nights. Every Saturday, she would stop by the store to pick up snacks and ice cream to share, then show up at Kaito's house for his family's latest choice of movie. Somehow dinner got lumped in as well, so at least once a week she had a warm, homemade meal to look forward to that she wouldn't have to cook herself.

This week, the twins had selected an accompanying film to one of the children's cartoons they kept up with on television. They were both adorably enthralled, laughing and going silent at all the right beats, but for Meiko, the movie was incomprehensible and as a result mind-numblingly boring. Having not watched the series it was based on, she lacked the necessary context to follow the plot, and the humor aimed at children fell flat when used on an adult. Soon, her attention began to drift, and she found more amusement in cataloging the twins' reactions than she did in watching the movie itself.

Meiko was startled out of her thoughts when a sudden weight settled against her, and she looked to her side in surprise.

Fast asleep with his head resting on her shoulder was Kaito, who appeared to have drifted off mid-movie. He must really have been running on fumes, she realized, and she felt a sudden twinge of sympathy. His mouth was just slightly parted, and he made a soft whistling noise each time he inhaled, his breathing steady and even. And she traced the lines of his face with her eyes, measuring the way they had smoothed out in sleep, the persistent worry that followed him everywhere frozen in place for just this small, infinitely precious moment in time.

Feeling suddenly self-conscious, she looked up, only to find Rin and Len observing them thoughtfully. When she met their eyes, though, they quickly turned their attention back to the movie, as if they had never stopped watching in the first place.

Hesitantly, she settled back against the couch. Though the atmosphere was still thick with awkwardness, she was somehow relieved they had said nothing.

With a quiet mumble, Kaito shifted slightly in his sleep. His hair was splayed out over her shoulder and itched at her neck, and she could feel the rise and fall of his chest through her shirt, his warmth against the bare skin of her arm making it difficult to concentrate on much of anything else. Her skin tingled. Unbidden, goosebumps rose on her upper arm. She wanted to wake him, and yet she found she didn't have the heart to do so. He just seemed so tired, and if this was his only chance to catch some proper sleep, then she wouldn't take that away from him. So instead Meiko resigned herself to her fate, allowing herself to be used as an oversized pillow for what felt like the busiest man in the world.

They didn't speak of the incident afterwards. Kaito didn't bring it up, and if he didn't want to talk about it, then Meiko was perfectly happy leaving the metaphorical elephant in the room unaddressed.

Instead, they carried on as normal. Kaito still showed up now and then with his newest baking experiments in hand, and she would give her comments and let him know what worked and what needed work. Sometimes Kaito would seem just a touch distracted during their conversations, but other than that, it was as though nothing at all had happened.

It was an ordinary Sunday, and Meiko was complaining to him about all the things that irked her—the traffic on her way into work, a coworker she thought to be particularly aggravating, and even small things like the leaky faucet in her bathroom that she procrastinated on calling a plumber for.

Somehow one thing spiraled into another, and Meiko found herself hovering in the doorway watching Kaito prod around her bathroom sink.

"Your faucet is the exact same model as mine," he said, screwing the handles back on, "so that makes things easier for us. It's a quick fix—the rubber band is worn and needs to be replaced, which happens now and then. I'll take the old one to the store and find a replacement on my grocery run, and I'll be back later today if that works for you."

"Are you sure?" Meiko frowned. "I wouldn't want to cause any trouble."

"Well, hey," he said, eyes twinkling, "it's all part of being a good neighbor, right?" And recognizing the words that had now grown so familiar, Meiko laughed.

True to his word, Kaito was back that evening, shopping bag in hand. She showed him to the bathroom, although he already knew where it was by this point, and carefully he unscrewed the faulty handle once more and drew it from the sink.

Quietly, Meiko observed him, following the way his hands moved along the metal with practiced ease. His brows were furrowed, and his eyes were focused. His tongue poked out from the corner of his mouth, something she noticed he often did while concentrating. She didn't quite know what to say, and even if she did she wouldn't want to distract him from his work, but even something as bizarre as watching him fix her leaky faucet felt oddly comfortable.

"I'm impressed," she finally said. "You're a good cook, and you seem to know your way around the house." The where do you find time for yourself after all that went unspoken, but he didn't seem to pick up on it.

"Well, I've absorbed things from here and there," he said with a shrug, glancing up at her for a split second before returning his focus downward. "But also, kids just break stuff all the time. It's not their fault—they're little people learning about the world, and they can't help it, really. I think I got used to fixing things around the house so that I wouldnt have to call a handyman for every single mishap." He laughed.

A sudden thought occurred to her. "Do you ever..." Meiko paused, trying to phrase her words properly. "Do you ever get mad at them? Rin and Len, I mean."

For a moment, he froze, his hands stilling along the metal column. Then like a well-oiled machine, he reached for his wrench and was back in motion again. "There are times it can be frustrating to deal with them," he admitted. "I mean really, kids do such stupid things, it's unbelievable." Another laugh, and this time Meiko joined in. "But I can't say I've ever truly been mad, just...exasperated? Disappointed? Frustrated?" His face scrunched up as he searched for the right word. "You have to understand that they're still learning. Most of the time they don't mean any harm, but they lack the perspective or the experience to match their actions to consequences...that sort of thing. Still, I..." The I love them was left implied but unspoken.

Kaito took a deep breath. "At the end of the day, though, one of the hardest things is to try and respond in a way that is constructive and conducive to growth. I want to be the best father I can possibly be, and I'm aware it's better to encourage them to learn from their mistakes than it is to spur them to hide them, and all that. And simultaneously, they do need to recognize the gravity of their own actions to want to learn from them in the first place. Striking that balance between reprimand and understanding is something I've really struggled with over the years, and sometimes it still feels like I have no idea what it is I'm doing."

"...For what it's worth," Meiko said, "I think you're doing a pretty good job so far."

"Well, thanks." He smiled boyishly.

After that, their conversation died down, and she watched as Kaito replaced the handle and tightened it one last time. Then with an exhale, he straightened and wiped his hands off on the worn fabric of his pants. His work pants, he called them—they were covered in the faint stains of engine oil and splashes of paint from playing alongside his children.

"And there we go," he announced, turning the faucet to let it run. "Done!"

Meiko nodded slowly, still processing his words from before. "Thank you, Kaito," she said, trying to infuse her voice with as much gratitude as she could muster. "Really, you've saved me a lot of trouble."

"Well, hey, it's the least I could do for a neighbor—and for a friend," he said with an easygoing grin, and she couldn't help but return his smile. His friend—she quite liked the sound of that, she decided. It made her feel warm inside.

The days grew ever shorter and the nights lengthened as November drew to a gradual close. At times, the cold nights could feel unbearably lonely. Romance had never been a priority for her, and then before she knew it Meiko was well into her thirties and single, with middle age looming distantly but ever-closer on the horizon. When gazing at the sky, she could recognize the terrifying prospect of spending the rest of her life alone—of performing functionally the same tasks between sunrise and sundown until the day she was too old to work any longer, with no one by her side—and she wasn't sure if she could face it.

She needed a distraction. Some nights when she couldn't sleep, Meiko would sit at her doorstep and look up at the stars. She had checked out a book on constellations from the library and liked to try and match them to the patterns in the sky, starting with the easiest ones to spot. When she felt particularly restless, she would read the section on astrology. She had never taken much stock in such beliefs personally—they had always been more the domain of people like Luka—but she supposed it could be fun and mindless to read about when she had little better to do.

On one of the last days of November, Meiko had just returned home and settled in for the evening when her doorbell rang. Curious and reluctant to leave her room, she ambled towards the entrance and peered through the peephole.

Her blood ran cold.

With frantic hands, she yanked open the door, ushering the girl inside. On her doorstep was a very distressed Rin, her eyes blotchy and her face red and raw with tear tracks half-frozen over. Her narrow frame was trembling so violently Meiko was afraid to touch her, but with as much gentleness as she could muster she took Rin by the shoulders and coaxed her to come sit on the couch.

For several moments, no one spoke. The silence was interrupted only by the occasional sniffle. Rin withdrew into herself, drawing her legs up and onto the seat cushion and burying her face against her knees. And it was such a contrast from the usual Rin, who was cheerful and ever-smiling, that Meiko found her alarm growing.

A singular hiccup.

"Rin," she said softly, "what's wrong?"

The silence stretched on, and Meiko's fingers twitched against the armrest, thrumming with nervous energy.

A quiet inhale. "Len and I had a fight," Rin finally murmured, voice muffled by the way her mouth pressed against her legs. From the gap between her limbs, Meiko could just make out the way her lower lip was wobbling.

"Oh, Rin." Meiko sighed, her expression melting into one of sympathy. "You know he cares about you. Even if he said something hurtful, I'm sure he didn't mean it."

"No, it's not like that. It's..." With a frustrated hiss, Rin brought her hands up over her knees to shield the top of her head, as if she were hiding from some unseen threat. "I just don't know who else I can talk to, Meiko. Not Len, and definitely not Dad, either. I..." Another sniffle.

Meiko frowned, wondering what sort of thing Rin might find easier to discuss with an outsider than with her own family. She waited for several seconds. "Rin," she tried when it became clear that the girl had no intention to continue, "are you all right?"

A shaky breath, and then to Meiko's alarm, Rin began to cry once more, noiselessly with her mouth open like a girl trying desperately to hide her tears. The sight was heartbreaking. Furiously, she lifted her head to scrub at her eyes, then swallowed, harshly like it had been forced from her. "It's Mom," she said, finally. "It's about Mom."

"Your...mother?"

Meiko felt utterly lost. This was the first time Rin—or any of her neighbors, for that matter—had brought up another member of the family. To her knowledge up until this point, Rin and Len had no other parent to speak of. A hundred different questions pressed at her throat, clamoring to escape, but she kept silent, allowing the girl a chance to speak.

"That's what me and Len were fighting about," Rin admitted, staring down at the tops of her knees, like they held some untold secrets of the universe. "We never knew her—she left us right after we were born, which is why Dad looks after us on his own."

"Rin..." Meiko's hands clenched uncomfortably in her lap. "I'm sorry."

"Dad doesn't talk about her much." Rin's eyes were hollow, far too tired and worn-out for a girl of her age. "He doesn't like talking about her, either. But he always tells us that he loves us whenever we bring her up. And he looks so sad as he says it. So, that's why..." She shifted her position on the couch. "It's something we never really talk about, in the end."

For a few moments, no one spoke, and then Rin took deep breath, expelling some of the tension from her form. "But then something came up, and me and Len ended up arguing about it." She glanced up before, seemingly startled by the fact that Meiko's eyes were still trained on her, looking back down—and suddenly, Meiko thought back to the other weekend, when Kaito had fallen asleep against her shoulder. She imagined how it might have looked to the twins, who had never known their father to have a partner nor the warmth of a mother, and she felt a strange suspicion creep up on her, accompanied by the unwanted weight of guilt. Rin didn't clarify, though, and only continued tracing the lines of the skin on her knees with her eyes.

The room lapsed into silence once more, and it wasn't until Rin's breathing evened out that Meiko realized she had fallen asleep. The poor girl must have cried herself to sleep, she thought, expression softening in sympathy.

Meiko didn't move from her spot on the armchair, allowing Rin a few moments' rest. She would have to get up eventually and then perhaps deliver the girl back to her own home, but her head was still spinning with the newfound revelation of Rin's other parent. She thought of Rin and Len's mother, and wondered what kind of person she might be, and tried to slot her in amongst the domestic atmosphere and framed photographs at Kaito's house, only to find that she couldn't.

She thought of the twins growing up without a mother, and Kaito raising them without a partner, and something about it made her very, very sad.

Rin's presence tonight was an unexpected development, but it at least clarified some of the confusion Meiko had regarding Kaito's situation. Oddly, now that she knew a shadow of the truth, it felt as though her morbid curiosity had multiplied twofold, as if she were an animal following a trail of breadcrumbs and was unable to stop. Gritting her teeth, she tried to quell the itch in the back of her mind. At the end of the day, this was Kaito's life and his truth to know, and it was up to her to respect his privacy and avoid overstepping his boundaries.

The shadows in the room grew darker as evening blurred into night. The moon, still nearly full, had now risen high into the sky, but lost in thought as she was, Meiko made no move to shut the curtains.

She saw the lanky shadow coming up the driveway before it arrived, the edges of its silhouette just barely visible against the pale moonlight spilling in through the glass. Still, she didn't rise to get the door until after the doorbell had already been rung.

"Kaito," she said. It wasn't a question.

He faced her from her doorstep, looking uncharacteristcally world-weary and muted in the darkened colors of night. "Sorry, I just came home and spoke with Len." He glanced around, blue eyes catching the light as he searched back and forth. "Is Rin here?"

"She's in the living room, although she's fast asleep now." Meiko stepped aside, welcoming him indoors, and he accepted the invitation wordlessly. Had Meiko been looking anywhere else she would have missed it, but with her eyes trained on him as they were, she caught the way his shoulders sank and the tendons in his neck slackened when his gaze landed upon Rin.

He approached her cautiously, as if afraid of startling her awake, then with a hiss lowered himself into a crouch by her side. He lifted a hand, brushing away some of the loose hair from Rin's face, and his expression was so impossibly soft—it was the tender love of a parent who had devoted everything for the sake of his children, Meiko realized.

Awkwardly, she hovered over him, unsure of what to say in light of the information she had gleaned from Rin. He didn't seem to mind the silence, though.

"I'm sorry to have caused you trouble." It took Meiko a good second to process that he was addressing her.

"Please don't be," she said, "not for something like this."

Kaito hummed. He looked troubled, as if there was something he intended to ask that he didn't quite want to know the answer to.

"Rin probably told you about her mother," he said, finally.

Meiko's words died in her throat, and she deflated. There was no use denying it. "She did."

He exhaled slowly, as if his worst fears had been confirmed, and he inclined his head so that she could no longer make out his eyes.

Still, he didn't reply immediately. She observed the way he ran the strands of Rin's hair back and forth between his fingers—it was the only gesture that betrayed his agitation.

"Kaito." Meiko paused. "You..."

"It's true," he admitted, face partially shadowed from the way it was angled down towards Rin. "She and I were in a brief but...intense and deeply complicated relationship." Though he tried to keep his tone light, a hint of bitterness still crept into his voice. "This was over ten years ago now, though it's hard to believe. We were young then, and stupid—particularly me. I was barely an adult, and I suppose she was several years older." He shifted slightly, and she saw the way his eyelashes fluttered.

Slowly, the pieces came together in Meiko's head, coalescing into a single image. Her eyes widened in realization. "So then, Rin and Len, they..."

Drawing an unsteady breath, Kaito nodded. "It's nothing much worth talking about now—what matters is that from the moment I first laid eyes on them, I knew intrinsically that Rin and Len were something deeply precious and at the same time an enormous responsibility, and there was no other option left open to me but to take it. Even then, and despite my best efforts, there are times I fear I am simply not enough."

Fiercely, Meiko shook her head, opening her mouth to protest, when abruptly she recalled picking up the twins from their soccer match the other week, and the way they had searched almost desperately for their father, and the crestfallen expressions on their faces when the realization set in that he could not attend, and even though it was unfair to Kaito she found that the words stuck in her throat.

"I try my best to be there for Rin and Len," Kaito continued after swallowing, the sound rough and forced, "but I admit sometimes I can be emotionally absent. There are just days it's hard to be entirely there, you know?" His hand stilled against Rin's hair, as though he had finally become aware of the motion. "It's why the twins have trouble opening up to people sometimes, and it's why they fought today. Their mother's role in their lives...and my own failings as a parent."

He fell silent again, and Meiko took a hesitant step towards him. "Kaito..."

"I don't resent them," he said, as if to preemptively ward off an accusation, "nor do I regret them. Rin and Len are everything to me." His expression was drawn and serious, his gaze directed at somewhere very, very far away. "And if I could do it all over again, if it meant being able to have them, then I would. Just...perhaps in a way that would give them the kind of home and support they need."

His words died away, leaving only the sound of their own breathing. Meiko's chest ached, and all at once she was taken by the unfairness of it all. It wasn't fair—but to whom? To Kaito, who gave everything he had but would never quite be enough? To Rin and Len, who deserved better than a single father who was never prepared to raise them?

Of that, she wasn't quite sure.

"I'm sorry," she said lamely. She didn't know what else to say.

He looked up, a strange glint in his eyes. "Don't be."

With that, he tightened his grip around Rin's sleeping form and hoisted her up and into his arms. Her head settled to rest against his shoulder. The girl didn't stir, and sensing the conversation had reached its natural conclusion, Meiko stepped aside to allow him space to exit.

"Come on, princess, let's get you home," he was saying as he passed Meiko by. He sounded so very gentle and soft that something inside Meiko gave a sharp tug.

It hurt, she realized. She should never have gotten invested.

Kaito nudged the doorknob open with his elbow, exposing the interior of her house to the cold air of a dying autumn that heralded the inevitable arrival of winter. He gave one last lingering glance over his shoulder and then stepped out into the night, leaving Meiko with only silence and many, many more thoughts weighing on her mind.

Chapter Text

The beginning of December brought a sudden cold front that chilled Meiko to the very bone. She could hardly afford to leave the house without bundling herself up in her warmest clothes, and whenever she stepped outside she would make a beeline for her car to start the heater.

With the cold front came the first snow of the season, blanketing the ground in a layer of pure white. Despite that, for several days there was no sign of Len or Rin. Meiko was surprised—since they were children, she would have expected to see them playing outdoors and enjoying the weather. Recalling the events from the previous week, Meiko wondered if they were still not on speaking terms following their disagreement, and she felt a twinge of concern.

And yet in a strange way, she was grateful she didn't have to face them. She was still processing what she had learned from the other night, and it helped that she didn't have to speak with them and pretend everything was normal as she grappled with her own thoughts. She had even begun leaving earlier for work in the mornings so she wouldn't bump into Kaito or the twins on her way out—which, to her delight, served the dual purpose of helping her to dodge rush hour traffic—and she tried to convince herself she wasn't merely avoiding them. Some part of her still wondered what exactly Rin and Len had fought about the week prior, and what the specific trigger had been for things to boil over. That mystery, naturally, remained unsolved.

She put the entire matter out of her mind as much as she was able to. But when several days stretched into a week, Meiko could admit she had grown worried. The snow along the ground had begun to melt under the relentless winter sun, and very soon there would be nothing left. As if trying to will the mental image into existence, she pictured the laughter of children playing in the snow and making snow angels and snowmen, but her neighbors' yard remained stubbornly silent.

And so, one Saturday, Meiko showed up at Kaito's doorstep, ice cream in hand as an offering as had become the norm.

Inside, she still felt a touch apprehensive about breaching the imagined barrier that had formed between them since the end of November. But it was hardly becoming of a good neighbor to make herself scarce for days on end, especially for a grown woman such as herself. She was an adult, and she was competent. So, gathering her resolve, she rang the doorbell.

For several moments, there was no response. Nervously, Meiko shuffled back and forth. It was cold, and the carton of ice cream pressing against her palms hardly helped matters. She fidgeted restlessly with her thumbs.

At last, a set of footsteps sounded from inside the house, and she glanced up in time to meet Kaito's eyes just as the door swung open.

Meiko blinked.

Kaito looked...awful. Somehow he appeared even more exhausted than normal, his hair an unredeemable mess and his clothes rumpled and hanging unevenly on his frame. He looked so tired she almost wanted to lay him in bed and wrap him in several layers of blankets. Where had that urge come from?

He said nothing to greet her, and Meiko swallowed, feeling suddenly awkward. "Um," she said, raising an eyebrow, "can I come in?"

Kaito looked down at her hands with interest. "Is that ice cream?"

Giving an exasperated huff, Meiko squeezed past him and shut the door.

She marched inside, ready to ask where the twins were and the many other questions that rested on the tip of her tongue, only to come to a stop when she realized he had yet to follow behind her. Confused, she whirled around.

Kaito remained hovering by the door, eyes trained vaguely in her direction. He blinked owlishly, like he was still trying to confirm to himself that she was really there. To her alarm, she noticed he almost seemed to be swaying on his feet.

"Are you okay?" she asked. "Kaito?" Now that she took a closer look, he really did look terrible, and abnormally so. His skin was flushed a bright red, and his eyes, usually tired but focused, seemed uncharacteristically glazed over. Every now and then he would squint and then grimace, like he was disoriented and didn't know quite where he was or what he was doing.

When he didn't respond, she placed the ice cream carton on the entryway table and stepped closer, peering up into his face. He glanced down towards her, and his eyes were so blue as they caught on the light that she almost tore her gaze away on instinct.

"Kaito," she tried, "are you sick?" She frowned. "No, don't answer that—it's obvious. Why are you up and about? Shouldn't you be in bed?"

He blinked several more times. Her point proven, Meiko reached for his wrist, wincing at the unnatural clamminess of his skin, and began to drag him towards where she now knew his room to be. At that, he finally responded, trying to squirm away. He mumbled incoherently, but she could just barely make out something about having to stay awake and make lunch for Rin and Len. Her frown deepened.

"Don't be ridiculous," she snapped, perhaps more harshly than she initially intended. "What on earth are you saying? In your state, you ought to be resting."

Kaito swayed once more on his feet, but doggedly, he remained upright. He tugged at his hand, trying to free it from her grasp. He was so stubborn—of course he was. Meiko couldn't imagine him keeping two unruly children in line if he were any other way. "It's nearly noon," he protested, his words slurring together at the edges. "Rin and Len will be hungry."

He was right, of course—Rin and Len were still growing, and they needed to be fed. But she remembered the way Kaito had come home from a long day of work and hugged and smiled at his children, and how he had insisted on spending his well-earned weekend afternoon with his children watching a movie he himself was too tired to see, and somewhere inside she felt deeply disatisfied. Her expression tightened.

"I," she said, "will take care of their lunch. And you—" she jabbed her finger at him—"will go to sleep, as you should be doing in the first place."

With that, she gave his arm a firm yank, nearly unbalancing him, and then all but dragged him into his room. He made a valiant, if misguided, effort to escape from her hold, but he was too disoriented to put up any proper resistance.

As soon as she pushed open the door, her nose wrinkled in distaste. The room was messy, the curtains drawn, and the air was unbearably stuffy and thick and permeated by the distinctive smell of illness. Still, she sidestepped the tissues on the ground that had missed their mark on the way into the wastebasket and deposited Kaito bodily on his mattress. He was out cold before his head even hit the pillow.

She couldn't help but pull a face. In such a state, how in the world had he expected to look after Rin and Len on his own?

The very notion was absurd.

She watched him for a while longer, following the slow rise and fall of his chest with her eyes. He made a brittle, rasping sound each time he exhaled, and she winced in quiet sympathy. He looked so vulnerable and almost small arranged beneath the bedsheets, a pale shadow of the father who always tried so hard to be responsible and unflappable in front of his children. Something about it was deeply upsetting. And somehow, she found she couldn't help but worry for this foolish, foolish man.

(She wondered who else would worry after him, if not her.)

With a sigh, Meiko stepped away, tearing her eyes from his form and removing herself from his room. She headed for the kitchen, transferring the ice cream she had brought to the freezer in the process, then washed her hands and positioned herself in front of the cutting board. Kaito must have been in the middle of preparing a soup, and she finished chopping up the vegetables and set them to boil.

As bubbles formed in the broth, she turned her gaze out the window towards Kaito's backyard. Patches of snow still remained on the ground where they were shaded from the midday sun, but elsewhere all that remained was slush, gray and lifeless and unappealing. Her eyes were drawn towards a plant on the windowsill, growing happily in a lopsided, hand-crafted pot painted yellow with white dollops of clay ornamenting its rim. Rin and Len had probably made it themselves, and something in her stomach tightened at the reminder of a father's unconditional love for his children.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps, and she turned back towards the kitchen just as Len entered the room. "...Meiko?" he said, bewildered. "You're here? Where's Dad?"

Gently, she directed him to sit at the table and then spooned out a bowl of soup so she would have time to think of a response, although it took her a moment to locate where Kaito kept his dishware. She set it in front of him and joined him at the table.

"Your father isn't feeling well, Len," she replied, keeping her tone light and measured. "I'm here today in his place."

"...But he'll be okay?" Len's eyes were wide with unspoken worry, and she softened.

"He'll be okay," she said, and he relaxed.

Rin joined them later, looking equally subdued, although she ate with all the appetite of a growing girl half-starved. She too asked after her father, and Meiko answered as candidly as she could.

Not for the first time, she was struck by how intrinsically the three of them cared for each other. It must have come from a lifetime of having no one but one another, she supposed.

If she wasn't mistaken, both children seemed under the weather, and she wondered if Kaito had caught the same illness. That would certainly explain why she hadn't heard from her neighbors in days, and though she hoped for their speedy recovery, she was grateful their recent absence wasn't attributed to anything even more worrisome.

"Hey, Meiko," said Rin, stirring at her soup idly, "could we go for a walk after lunch?"

Len perked up at her suggestion. "Yeah, could we? We've been inside practically all week, and the snow's almost all melted now!"

"Well..." Meiko hesitated. She imagined Kaito would want the twins to remain indoors for fear of their conditions worsening, but she could also imagine how stifling it must be for two energetic children to be confined to the house. She supposed there was no harm in going for a short walk, so long as they dressed properly for the weather. Besides, it would provide a welcome distraction from her own thoughts.

"Just to the end of the street, and then we'll come right back." The children cheered in response, and Meiko wondered how on earth Kaito ever won against their whims.

Their bowls emptied and stomachs full, Rin and Len dashed off to retrieve their coats, and Meiko circled both of them once, ensuring their sleeves were even and their every button done up. Once she was satisfied, she gave a nod and led them to the door.

The winter air was dry and cold, a stark constrast to the controlled temperature of the house, and instantly it chafed at Meiko's face. She grimaced, but the twins seemed to welcome the change.

"Oof—hey!" protested Len, and Meiko whirled around just in time to catch Rin pelting her brother with a snowball. She giggled and moved to dash away as Len scowled, reaching down to scoop up a handful of snow in retaliation.

"Come on now," Meiko chastised, restraining them both with a hand on each of their shoulders, "be nice."

In response, they pouted, and though she wavered, she stood her ground. Finally, they deflated under her hold. "Sorry," said Rin.

Their cheeks quickly grew flushed with cold, and soon it became clear Len had something to say. Meiko said nothing, watching as his face shifted through a range of emotions and wordlessly inviting him to speak.

"I'm worried about Dad," Len said, finally.

"About your father?" Briefly, Meiko's steps slowed as she bit back her own worry, but she resumed a normal pace. "What about him?"

"Well, it's just..." Len's eyes flickered downwards. "He usually just seems so untouchable. Even when he gets sick, it doesn't stop him from looking after us."

Rin glanced towards her brother's face, and reading his mood, she nodded in agreement. "We've never had anyone else take care of us before," she offered. "Is Dad okay? He'll be...back with us, right?"

Meiko's expression softened. "Oh, Rin, Len." Her smile was tinged with sympathy. "It's sweet of you to ask, but I promise he'll be right back to normal. He just needs his rest so he can get better sooner, and it would bring him peace of mind to know the two of you are focusing on yourselves instead of worrying about him." At that, the twins seemed mollified, and they dropped the topic for the the duration of their walk.

Once they returned, she put them back to bed. Because it was now December, the sun had already begun its descent, casting the sky in shades of blue-gray. It was a dreary day, Meiko thought to herself, and not a good one to be sick. She felt cold.

She scrubbed all the dishes clean and set them aside to dry and then diligently wiped down the counter, but even after everything she was left with an unquenchable nervous energy. Briefly she considered returning home, feeling vaguely like she might be intruding by staying, but she couldn't in good conscience leave Kaito to fend for himself and so she dismissed the thought. She tried sitting on the couch and reading for a while, but the heavy silence and the incessant tapping of her own foot against the carpet soon became too much to bear, and she found herself ambling through the house, seeking something else to direct her attention to.

As if they had a mind of their own, her feet brought her in front of Kaito's room, and she paused, considering. Slowly, she eased the door open with a creak. She wondered if she might be overstepping her boundaries, but as if drawn closer by instinct, she stepped inside.

On his bed, Kaito had yet to awaken, though his sleep had clearly been anything but restful. The sheets had become twisted around his form, and carefully, Meiko tugged at the fabric, maneuvering them around his body to free the blankets from beneath him. She moved to step away, then hesitated.

Even in sleep, Kaito's face was pinched with the strain of illness, and sweat streaked across his forehead, pooling in the strands of his hair and against his pillow.

With some degree of trepidation, Meiko reached out, hovering her palm above his cheek. Her hand trembled just the slightest fraction, catching on the angled light peeking in from between the curtains and drawing unsteady shadows on the far wall. This close, she could feel the heat radiating off his skin in waves, the unusual heat of a sick man. He seemed almost to lean in towards her, and she held her breath, her heartbeat pulsing against her ears.

One beat. Two beats.

He made a soft noise of discomfort, a puff of breath escaping his lips as he shifted on the mattress, and then the moment was broken.

Meiko pulled back as though she had been burned. Her hand sank back to her side. For several seconds, she hardly dared to move, and then her shoulders relaxed and she could breathe normally once more.

Without a word, she drew away, leaning down to make herself productive. Though Kaito would never request such a thing of her, she gathered the discarded tissues on the floor and deposited them in the trash, left to rinse her hands off, and then returned to straighten his things. As she did so, she couldn't help but notice how his living space was depressingly empty of personal effects that weren't related to his children. He had hung several of their drawings on the wall, and he had their photographs framed and propped up on his desk, but aside from that there was nothing to indicate what he himself liked.

It was the room, she realized, of a man who had never had time to live for himself.

Quietly, Meiko glanced back towards where his fragile form slept beneath the blankets. Even now he looked to be in pain, as though he could not afford to rest. He was there for his children, and he did everything that he could for them—he was but a single man, trying to be all at once the foundation and the pillar and the yet unwavering heart of his family.

His shoulders were not meant to bear the weight alone. It was inevitable they would eventually falter.

Feeling somehow more conflicted than before, Meiko shut the door behind her, allowing Kaito the privacy of rest. She exhaled.

She wound her way back to the living room area, passing by Rin and Len's rooms on her way. It was silent—perhaps they had fallen asleep, then. Slowly, she lowered herself onto the couch and turned her eyes towards the ceiling.

Inside her chest was a confusing mess of emotions, and she could not begin to disentangle them.

When she had first moved in, she had not thought so far ahead. Never had she planned to become closely acquainted with her neighbors, let alone befriend them. She had not imagined the emotional weight that would accompany her newfound friendship, nor the strange attachment she had formed—yes, she was attached, she realized with a start. She cared about their collective wellbeing more than any outsider really should. And yet, like a moth drawn invariably to flame, she found that she could not pull away.

It was so quiet. Even the birds didn't sing this time of year.

At one point, she must have drifted off, because by the time her eyes fluttered open again the sky through the window was already several shades darker. She grimaced and shook her head, trying to blink the remnants of sleep away.

Freeing her mind of the heavy thoughts that had followed her into slumber, she slipped from the couch and busied herself with rearranging the movies strewn across his shelf in alphabetical order. They were primarily films aimed at children, and the corners of her lips turned downwards. What did Kaito like?

There must have been a time, once, when Kaito had been young and carefree and not so unsmiling as he was now. He must have been naive and bright-eyed and free with his laughter—genuine laughter, the kind that filled a room and invited others to join along. When asked what kinds of movies he liked, he would have an easy answer. He must have had songs he enjoyed listening to, and hobbies he would partake in. Perhaps there were fields of study he was passionate about, and sports teams he rooted for. And he had traded so much of that away for a role that could sometimes border on thankless, even if Rin and Len were in themselves the greatest reward.

She couldn't take it anymore.

Scowling, she shoved the final case onto its shelf and stormed away, pacing the hallways with an agitation she hadn't realized had built up until now. The silence was deafening, and her own thoughts were overwhelming. No matter how hard she tried to redirect them, they returned to Kaito. Rin. Len. People she should by all counts have nothing of substance to do with. She wanted clarity of mind, and she could not find it.

Instinctively, her feet stilled at the sound of voices. She shook herself back to reality, schooled her expression into something approximating neutral, and with some degree of trepidation peered around the corner down the hallway towards Kaito's room.

To her surprise, this time Kaito was awake. She could just barely make out the distinctive color of his blue hair from her angle. "Hey, Len," he was saying, voice so rough it made her wince. "What's with the face, buddy? Is everything all right?"

That, too, was so like him—he was always worrying about others, even at times when his primary concern should be himself. Warily, Meiko approached. Her footsteps echoed in her ears, and their words grew steadily louder as she neared his room. At last the walls parted, and their faces came into view.

She took a moment to scan her eyes over Kaito's form. Weariness was still etched into every line of his face, but he was sitting up and looked infinitely more alert—and he truly did seem lucid now, which was a relief. Perhaps his fever had finally broken with some proper rest, she mused.

"No, nothing's wrong," Len replied with a firm shake of his head, his eyes wide and earnest. He was leaning over the bed with one knee propped up against the edge of the mattress, which dipped around him to accomodate his weight. Briefly, his gaze flitted away and then back to his father's face. "It's just...Dad, are you okay? You don't look good. Plus, Rin and I haven't seen you pretty much all day."

"Oh, Len." With a helpless smile, Kaito reached up and ran his hand through Len's shock of blonde hair, making it stick up even more than it already did. "You don't have to worry about me—I'm fine, I promise. I just need a moment to get back on my feet." He pivoted, changing the topic. "Have the two of you eaten?"

"Yeah, a few hours ago." For once, Len was too overcome with concern to complain about being subjected to his father's careless treatment of his hair, and he leaned into Kaito's hand on instinct. "Meiko made us lunch earlier, and afterwards she took us on a walk down the street."

"Meiko?" As if on cue, Kaito glanced up, and his eyes widened at the sight of her hovering in the doorway. She jolted as his attention landed on her. "Meiko," he repeated, "is that you?" He squinted against the light, like he couldn't quite believe she was there for him, and cautiously she stepped across the threshold to his room.

"It's me," she confirmed, and the furrow between his brows deepened—was it really so hard to imagine someone else might want to look after him? Her lips thinned. Two matching sets of blue eyes followed her as she approached his bedside and then came to a stop. "How are you feeling? You seemed pretty out of it earlier."

"Me?" Kaito blinked, as though surprised she would ask after his wellbeing. Absently, he removed his hand from Len's head and settled it beside his lap. "Er, I'm fine. Thank you for looking after my kids while I myself was unable to. I seem to find myself indebted to you once again." His gaze turned towards his son as he laughed, which then dissolved into a series of painful-sounding coughs. She winced, and frantically Len clutched at his father's shoulder until the spell passed.

With a groan he settled back against his pillows, and she waited for his breathing to even out before she spoke. "Please, there's no such thing as a debt between friends." Her tone was light, but the set of her expression conveyed that she was serious. "It was my pleasure, really. Len and Rin are always a delight."

"We are?" Len's eyes were big and round as he looked up at her, and she shot him her warmest smile. Tentatively, he returned it. And though he and Rin were nearly teenagers, it was times like these that they seemed still so very young.

"Regardless, that's time out of your day spent on us, so allow me to express my gratitude, at least. And..." Kaito trailed off and gave her a meaningful look, gesturing with his shoulder towards one side.

Catching on to his meaning, Meiko shifted her attention to Len. "Well, let's give your father some room to rest," she suggested easily, and he nodded, moving to trail her out of the room. Kaito waved after them as he watched them go.

Halfway to the door, though, Len paused as if struck by a sudden thought, then dashed back towards his father's side. He searched Kaito's surprised face intensely for a brief moment, before leaning in to give him a clumsy kiss on his cheek.

Kaito's eyes went comically wide.

"Feel better soon, Dad," Len mumbled. Then he ducked his head in embarrassment and fled the room.

Meiko waited for him to catch up, trying to suppress her smile at the pink coloring Len's cheeks or the slack-jawed expression of awe Kaito wore. Her chest felt somehow warm at the genuine display of affection, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Kaito's face morph into an impossibly pleased smile. Once Len made it to her side, she gave him a nod and led him back towards his room.

The boy followed her in stubborn silence, as if too self-conscious to speak, so Meiko spoke in his place. "Your father will be fine." His head shot up, and she continued, "Give him a day or two, and I'm sure he'll be back to taking you places and watching movies with you like he usually does."

Len cleared his throat, trying to will away his lingering embarrassment. "I know," he said, rubbing at his upper arm. "He was really sick earlier today and Rin and I were worried, but he seems better now. So that's good." Cautiously, he searched Meiko's face. "A lot of that is thanks to you, Meiko. It's because you were there for him—for us—that Dad could get better."

Meiko paused, taken aback by the accuracy of his assessment. Privately, she reminded herself that when it truly mattered, children seemed far too intelligent and perceptive for their own good. The incident with Rin at the end of November was a testament to that, when Rin and Len had observed her and Kaito and had clearly seen something in them that even she herself didn't quite know. Not for the first time, she felt oddly exposed in their presence, like it was impossible for her to hide anything from their attentive eyes.

With a start, she realized he was still awaiting her response, and she cleared her throat. "Of course. I'm happy to be here." This time, it was her turn to avert her gaze, even if the motion was uncharacteristic for her.

Len grinned up at her, and they spent the rest of their trek in silence. At last, Meiko turned the corner and came to a stop.

"Well," she said, delivering him to his doorway, "let me know if you need anything, okay?"

"Okay." He smiled at her as he slipped into his room. "Thanks again, Meiko."

His door shut with a click, and Meiko exhaled. With the matter of Len addressed, she made her way back to Kaito, who had straightened up to prop himself against the headboard in the meantime. "So," she said, and he started at the sound of her voice, "can I help with anything?"

He blinked. Then he pursed his lips, distress clear on his face. "Meiko, please, there's no need, you've already—"

"Kaito." She cut him off, and he fell silent. "I'm already here. I want to help you." She searched his eyes, trying to convey the honesty behind her words, and he lowered his gaze. Deliberately, she softened her tone. "So once again, can I get you anything?"

He swallowed roughly, his Adam's apple bobbing in the process, but she kept her gaze steady, and at last he relented.

He looked up. He looked away. Then he looked at her, as hopefully as a child would. "...Ice cream?" he suggested, and Meiko pulled a face.

"Ice cream? Now? It's not good for your throat, I'm afraid..."

"To hell with my throat," he grumbled, and his declaration was so sudden and offhand that she laughed. She had to hold back her snicker at the mental image of Kaito, red-nosed and shivering, sullen and huddled beneath three layers of blankets and nursing a melting bowl of ice cream despite it all. Truly, he was unbelievable.

She ran her eyes over his face, and he really did seem much improved. She supposed it wasn't a surprise some actual rest had done him a world of good. "But really," she tried again, pulling up a chair from his desk, "are you all right?"

"I'll be fine." His voice was gruff. "Rin and Len caught something and were sick for the past few days. They're on the mend now, but I was unlucky enough to catch their illness." He scowled, like the inconvenience had personally offended him.

Meiko's expression turned sympathetic. Inside, she suspected his absolute refusal to look after himself in the slightest had also played a role in his condition, but she didn't voice the sentiment aloud.

"They seem better now, at least," she offered. "I was concerned when I didn't see them for several days."

He glanced at the door towards where Rin and Len's rooms were, then shook his head. "I swear, I never got sick so often until I had my kids," he bemoaned, and if Meiko didn't know better he almost seemed to be pouting. "One of the worst parts of having young children—they bring back germs all the time." As if to prove his point, Kaito punctuated his words with a loud sneeze, which morphed halfway through into a cough. She handed him a tissue, and he nodded his thanks.

"I should have homeschooled them, if only to keep them from those disease incubators they call public schools," Kaito continued, sniffing. The balled-up tissue made a clattering sound as it hit its mark and landed squarely in the wastebasket.

"And where would you have found the time to do that?" asked Meiko with a laugh. He shot her a baleful look, and in return she gave him her most guileless smile.

Now with the twins gone, Kaito had dropped his calm, unaffected facade. Like this, he no longer had any reservations about hiding his displeasure—he sulked, and to her amusement quite openly too. It turned out, she thought, that a sick Kaito made for a Kaito who was tired and miserable and very, very grumpy. He made an expression that reminded her oddly of a disgruntled cat, and she had to fight to stifle her giggles.

"Still, I would've been fine on my own today," Kaito insisted petulantly, pulling a face, and she rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, fat chance."

"But," he said, "thanks, Meiko. You really helped me out."

Meiko paused, taken aback by his sudden honesty. Then she smiled. "Well, it's all part of being a good neighbor...and a good friend," she dared to add, echoing his own oft-spoken words back to him. "Isn't that right?" He glanced up in surprise, and then his face, too, broke into an easy grin.

"Good friends," he agreed.

The tension that had been wound up in her form for the entirety of the day loosened, and the smile remained on her face. She and Kaito sat in companionable silence as outside the sun continued to set, painting the winter sky into a mural of hushed purples and muted golds. The shadows danced along Kaito's face, catching on the very tip of his long nose, and she had the sudden, strangest urge to run her hands freely through his hair.

She felt at ease.

A thought struck her. Outside the December air was cold, but Kaito's house held nothing but warmth. When she was here, she didn't have to fill the silence with forced smiles and loud words. She felt that the pervasive sense of loneliness that followed her seemed to ease, even if just a fraction. There was just something special about it—Meiko wasn't quite sure how to describe it yet. Companionship was close, but even it wasn't the right word.

She liked being around him. She liked speaking with him. She wanted to see him openly laugh, and she wanted to see him happy. It was why she kept an eye out for him in the morning, and yet found it difficult to meet his face at times.

There was a time when Kaito had been young and carefree and not so unsmiling, when he was naive and bright-eyed and free with his laughter. He had movies he liked, and songs he enjoyed. And he had traded so much of that away—and still, Meiko could not take her eyes off him.

Because despite all that, and despite everything, Kaito was brilliant. He loved so deeply, and cared with every ounce of who he was. His smile was genuine, and it was infectious. She thought of the way his eyes shone when he spoke of his children, and how his entire face lit up whenever he could be of assistance to Meiko. What he had given up did not diminish him—it did not mean he did not have things worth living for and worth working towards, and it did not make him anything less than who he was.

And somewhere along the line, Meiko had fallen for him—because he was Kaito, and that was enough.

Chapter Text

At long last, winter began in earnest. It felt as though Meiko's heater was constantly running in a never-ending battle to ward off the bitter cold, and yet the frigid December air still managed to encroach upon the edges of her room and slip in through the cracks between her floorboards.

More often than not, Meiko found herself huddled into a ball beneath her blankets, trying to conserve her own body heat. Living in a house on her own could be particularly lonely in the winter, and a small part of her yearned for spring.

Still, at least she had Saturdays to look forward to, when one evening out of every week she would make the trek across the yard to watch a movie with her neighbors. Unlike hers, Kaito's small house was always warm, bolstered as it was by the collective body heat of three—and occasionally four—people.

The gravity of her realization from the other week had yet to fully hit her, but it was certain to set in eventually. Though the feeling was irrational, Meiko harbored a constant fear that when she least expected it, Kaito would look over at her and be able to read her innermost thoughts from beneath her eyes. Perhaps he would notice the way her gaze lingered on his form, or pick up on how she hovered at his doorstep on her way home ever-so-slightly longer than she had to.

Kaito, thankfully, remained oblivious.

Being around him was magnetic, and even just seeing him in the mornings could make her day. She chastised herself for it. She was a woman in her thirties, and he was a single father with a life outside of the ridiculous romance she had dreamed up in her head, and neither of them had time to spend on such fantasies. So she tried her hardest to carry on as normal, acting as though nothing had really changed.

She had just made herself comfortable one Saturday evening, curling up with the usual bowl of—despite the season—ice cream when she received an unexpected invitation.

"Say, Meiko," said Kaito, leaning over the back of the couch to gaze down at her, "are you going anywhere for the holidays? And if you aren't, how would you like to come over and celebrate with us?"

Instantly, both twins perked up, and they turned to watch her with thinly-veiled anticipation. She faltered under the sudden attention.

Her spoon clattered against her bowl as she released her grip on it. "What's this all of a sudden?"

But his gentle smile was as frustratingly unreadable as it always was. "You don't have to feel pressured to say yes—I know you may already have other plans," he said, "but the twins and I have spoken about the possibility, and we would be thrilled to have you celebrate alongside us."

Rin nodded eagerly. "It would be fun! Dad's always happier when you're around." At that, Kaito's look turned sheepish. And Meiko didn't know what to say in response, so she chose not to address the matter. Things were easier that way.

"Are you sure?" She frowned, but Kaito's face held nothing but understanding. "Really—I'd hate to intrude."

"Would we have extended the invitation if we weren't?" His eyes danced with mirth, and she had the distinct impression that he was amused.

At that, her nerves settled, and after a moment's hesitation she returned his grin. "In that case, I'd love to. Thank you."

Rin and Len let out a collective cheer, and Kaito joined in at a softer volume, acting every part the goofy, indulgent dad to his energetic children. Meiko turned back to face the television, hiding a small smile behind her bowl. She thought briefly of the year's end, which had crept up without her noticing, and of all the Decembers of years past she had spent far from home, and realized with a start that for once, she was looking forward to the holidays.

December marched on, and the streets of the city came alive with holiday cheer. Lights of all colors accented the roofs of houses, contrasting against the faded winter sky.

Amidst all the bustle and activity, Meiko found herself overcome with an anxious kind of feeling, the kind that consisted of a potent mixture of nervousness and excitement.

But despite her reservations, she was honored and more than a little pleased to have been invited to spend the holidays with Kaito and the twins. Until now, she had no plans of her own—having only started her new job in September, it wasn't as though she had banked enough vacation days to go home whenever she pleased. Celebrating with her neighbors was something new, and it was different. Perhaps it meant they had come to care for her as much as she did for them. The thought made her feel a little warm inside.

"Oh, I should mention," Kaito said one evening as he retreated from her doorway after dropping off his latest batch of pastries, "my sister will be coming over, too. Would you be okay with that?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" He shot her a grateful look in response, and internally, Meiko wondered what kind of person his sister might be. This was the first she had heard of Kaito having any sort of relatives other than his children, and the thought sparked her curiosity. Still, she supposed she would have to wait and see.

The holidays steadily approached, and the days grew shorter and shorter. It was in the days leading up to the solstice that Kaito's sister finally arrived.

Despite herself, Meiko felt some degree of trepidation about her arrival. She had without realizing established an easy rhythm with Kaito and his family, and she wondered if Kaito's sister would disrupt that newfound balance.

To her relief, though, all her worrying was for nothing. Miku was a young woman several years Kaito's junior with a lively countenance and a friendly demeanor. She had a bright smile and a gentle look in her eyes that distracted from her playful nature, in a way that reminded Meiko much of her brother.

"It's very nice to meet you!" Miku said as she tried good-naturedly to disentangle the overly enthusiastic twins from around her legs. Each time she would manage to free herself of one, the other would latch onto her other side, affording the young woman not a moment's rest.

"The pleasure is mine." Meiko gave Kaito a meaningful glance. "Although I would have liked to meet you sooner, had a certain someone mentioned you to me before just the other week."

"Oh?" Still preoccupied with fending off Rin and Len and keeping them from trying to hide underneath her hair, Miku directed a teasing eyebrow towards her brother, and he held up his hands in mock surrender.

"Well, it's more that you never came up—Rin! Len! Stop it!" he hissed, dragging them away by their shoulders with a firm shake of his head. "Give your aunt some room to breathe! She'll be with you in a minute." At that the twins pouted, but sufficiently chastised, they ran off to entertain themselves elsewhere until Miku could join them.

Kaito sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "Sorry about that. And I feel distinctly like I'm making myself an easy target for your teasing by standing here in your combined presence," he said, "so I'll see myself out as well."

Childishly, Miku stuck out her tongue at his back as he left, and Meiko fought to stifle her amusement. The siblings really did have a natural rapport, and though until now she hadn't considered the possibility of anyone else in Kaito's family besides Rin and Len, Miku's arrival felt like a missing piece slotting into place, just where it belonged. In a way, it made her image of Kaito seem just a little less lonely.

"Well, I ought to go after Rin and Len before they grow impatient and start to sulk," said Miku, turning back to face her, "but it was lovely meeting you, Meiko. Let's speak more later, yeah?"

"I'd love to," said Meiko, watching her go. She was left alone with her thoughts, and deciding to make herself useful, she meandered her way into the kitchen, where Kaito had gotten to work. With practiced efficiency, Kaito emptied the last of his ingredients into a bowl and began to whisk them into a batter, and his hands moved with such skill and ease that it was hard for her to tear her eyes away.

Taking notice of her presence, Kaito glanced at her over his shoulder, and his expression softened. He really was happy to have her there, Meiko realized with a start.

She reached over to rinse her hands under the sink, then dried them off on a rag. "What are you up to? Can I help?"

"I'm making cookies. Want to join?" He seemed pleasantly surprised by her offer. "I'd never turn down a helping hand and good company. I've some dough chilling in the fridge, so if you'd like, you could roll it out and cut it into shapes. We have rolling pins and some cookie cutters in that drawer over there."

Meiko tried to ignore the voice in her head that fixated on how Kaito considered her good company. Instead she nodded, folding her sleeves and opening the refrigerator door.

Carefully, she began flattening out the dough. The edges curled slightly in towards the rolling pin each time it squeezed past, and once Kaito's attention was elsewhere Meiko gave in to the urge to sneak a taste of the cookie dough for herself.

It was sweet. She hummed her approval.

Thankfully, Kaito didn't seem to notice. Being the parent of two very active children, she imagined he would have chided her if he did.

Kaito really did have quite the collection of cookie cutters, she noted as she pulled the drawer open once more. He glanced over at her progress as he leaned past, and then gave a sheepish laugh once he noticed where her eyes were directed.

"Believe it or not, Rin and Len gave me some of those," he explained unprompted, and sensing her confusion, he added, "The cookie cutters were my Christmas gift last year—the twins had Miku go out and help buy them and everything. I was actually pretty touched, until Rin and Len said I ought to use them to make more desserts for the two of them. Talk about an ulterior motive!" He and Meiko shared a laugh. "As in, was my gift actually meant to benefit themselves, or what?"

She selected a few cookie cutters and laid them onto the countertop, and his back turned to her, Kaito said, "Don't choose too many of the ones that are shaped like animals. Rin quite likes them, actually, but Len always makes a fuss because eating animal-shaped cookies makes him feel guilty. And telling him to just eat what he's given makes me out to be the villain, so I try to avoid the issue entirely." An exasperated huff.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, interrupted only by the echoing of cabinet doors and the sound of metal against ceramic. At one point, in their simultaneous attempts to sidestep one another they ended up bumping elbows, and Kaito laughed apologetically, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

At last, the cookies were set to bake in the oven, and Kaito shooed her from the kitchen, arguing that a guest such as herself shouldn't be made to work any longer than she already had.

"Though I do appreciate your help," he added as he steered her out into the hall, and she returned his smile.

Aimlessly, Meiko wandered into the living room, where she encountered Miku cleaning up a card game she must have been playing with Rin and Len. The twins in question had fallen asleep from the excitement, leaning against one another adorably on the couch. Their breathing was deep and even, and Meiko's eyes softened.

"Hey," said Miku, holding up a hand in greeting. "Sorry we didn't get to talk too much earlier! Say, no pressure at all, but how would you like to help me put up some holiday decorations?"

"That sounds great—I'd love to."

Miku gave her a grateful smile, and together the two of them made their way to the garage. The area was lined nearly from floor to ceiling with boxes stuffed full and stacked haphazardly atop one another, which were interspersed with various items flung carelessly wherever they managed to fit.

Dumbly, Meiko's mouth dropped open at the sight.

But without missing a beat, Miku—clearly used to the mess—began sifting through Kaito's things. "Now, I know it was in here somewhere..."

With a huff, she lifted yet another box from behind Kaito's car and deposited it by Meiko's feet. Meiko could only watch in mute shock at the sheer volume of items piling up beside her. "Ugh, that brother of mine—he's always been such a hoarder, I swear! This is why he can never find anything when he needs it. I'm always telling him he needs to clean out his junk every once in a while, but he never listens, now does he—oh, here it is!" With a triumphant cheer, she wrestled a beat-up cardboard box from where it had been shoved unassumingly between the twins' snow sled and a rusty old lamp.

Carefully, Meiko took it from her, dodging Kaito's belongings strewn across the ground so she could carry the box inside. With a heave, she deposited it on the carpet and wrestled it open.

They set to work. One by one, they untangled Christmas lights from within the box and began hanging decorations from the walls. They spoke as they worked, the flow of conversation interrupted only by the occasional anecdote from Miku whenever she recognized an ornament.

"Oh, I painted this one at school back when I was a kid," said Miku, a sense of wonder in her voice. "I remember how Kaito helped lift me up that Christmas so I could hang it from the highest branches of the tree, but I had no idea he'd kept it for all this time." A brief pause. "Sorry, you were saying?"

Talking with Miku was pleasant, Meiko realized. She was a good listener and always had some insight to offer, and in that regard she was again very much like her brother.

"What do I do? I teach music," said Miku when Meiko asked about her occupation. "Well, I work primarily for the school system, but I also offer individual lessons on the side. So because of that I'd say I work pretty irregular hours, and it's not always easy, but I'm happy to do something I'm passionate about for a living."

"That does sound nice." Meiko's expression turned wistful. "Did you always want to pursue a career in music?"

"Honestly, a lot of it was because of Kaito." A smile crossed Miku's face as she thought of her brother. "He's always been super encouraging when it comes to doing the things I want. I'm grateful to him—hey, can you hold up the other end of these for me?"

As Meiko moved to support the lights from one end, Miku continued, "What about you, Meiko? You just moved in this fall, right? How do you like living here?"

"Me?" Meiko blinked, surprised by the sudden question. "I like it well enough, I suppose. I've been settling into a new sense of normal, and your brother and his family have been nothing but welcoming, so they've played a big part in that. The three of them have really helped me feel more at home here."

"Well, I'm glad they did. I'm happy to have you here for the holidays, Meiko. After all the times Kaito's mentioned you, I figured I ought to meet the real thing in person."

Meiko glanced up, caught off guard. "Kaito talks about me?"

Miku's expression turned playful. "That he does. I'm glad he's still making new friends, even if it takes a bit of assistance from the twins." At that, Meiko couldn't help but bark out a laugh.

They continued working. At one point, Kaito slipped past as he went to carry the sleeping twins off to their beds, and he poked his head in as he passed by.

"Oh, you two are decorating? Thanks, that's a huge help," he called, rubbing sheepishly at the back of his neck. "I meant to get around to it a couple weeks ago, but then I got sick earlier this month, and after that I was pretty busy, so it must have totally slipped my mind."

"Well, in spite of that you certainly seemed to have the time to stress bake enough to feed an army," Meiko said dryly, and Miku agreed with a giggle.

Kaito shot Meiko a mock-betrayed look, but he couldn't keep up the affronted act for long, and very soon he was laughing, too. Then he lingered for a moment longer, seeming somehow pleased that she and Miku were getting along, before retreating down the hallway.

The room went quiet once more, and a thoughtful expression overtook Miku's face. Her eyes flickered between Meiko and her work several times, and feeling vaguely on edge, Meiko swallowed, wondering who would be the first to break the silence. Finally, Miku spoke.

"Say, Meiko," she said, keeping a deliberate air of nonchalance about her, "how did you and Kaito become friends, anyway?"

"Hm?" Surprised by the nature of the question, Meiko looked up to meet Miku's face. Miku blue eyes were unblinking, trained directly back at her, and suddenly Meiko had the distinct sense that she was being judged. Despite the fact that Miku was several years her junior, in the moment she found the young woman to be oddly intimidating.

Trying not to let it show, she replied, "Well, we first met when I moved in and Kaito brought me cookies as a welcome gift, and then I helped here and there with Rin and Len, and eventually it just...happened?" Helplessly, she shrugged. "Honestly, I don't really know, either. But all the same, I'm grateful for his friendship."

Miku watched her for several moments more, like she was trying to work something out in her head. "Hm." That was all she had to say, it seemed.

Pausing briefly, Meiko frowned. "Why, is that odd?"

At that, Miku seemed to snap out of it, and she shook her head. "No, it's—well, it's nothing." Finally, she smiled, and the tension that had built up in the room drained as though it were never there, leaving Meiko wondering if she had imagined it. "I was just curious, is all."

Together, they hung one last garland along the mantel, and with a sigh Miku straightened, wiping at her forehead. "There," she declared. "Now the house looks festive!"

Len and Rin were thrilled at the decorations that had seemingly materialized in their sleep once they awoke, and inside Meiko felt a sense of pride to have been the one to put the smiles on their faces.

That night, as they settled around the fireplace to exchange gifts, Meiko thought of the wonderful day she had—of Kaito's home cooking and his warm smiles and natural generosity, of Miku and the easy conversation they shared, and of Rin and Len, who were lively and unfailingly charming. Something tightened in her chest.

Feeling like she should say something, Meiko cleared her throat. "Thank you," she said, finding it suddenly very difficult to meet any of their eyes. "Thank you for inviting me over. I really am grateful—without you, I would have celebrated the holidays on my own, and I probably would be rather lonely. I'm so glad I get to spend today with you all instead."

Across from her, Kaito froze, and Miku looked up in surprise. They seemed at a complete loss for words.

Finally, Rin broke the silence, the wide grin on her face as natural as it always was. "Aw, Meiko," she said, all but beaming, "you don't have to thank us. We like spending time with you, too."

Meiko's expression softened, and unable to speak around the lump in her throat, she nodded.

With that, they began their gift exchange. The twins were the highlight of the evening, and their faces lit up each time they unwrapped a present. Miku watched them fondly and helped to unbox the packages they struggled with. From what Meiko could discern, it was clear Miku adored the twins. She had a natural synergy with children—an important quality for a teacher, Meiko noted.

Miku brought Kaito a French press, and in return Kaito gifted her a throw blanket for when she grew cold in the winter. Meiko had ignored the protests of her wallet and bought Rin and Len each one of the lego sets from the series they liked. The twins were thrilled, and when Kaito tried to protest, she insisted it was thanks for including her in such a lovely holiday celebration. At last, he relented.

"What do we say?" Kaito prompted, and the twins chorused a thank you.

They continued exchanging gifts, Miku sneaking cookies whenever she could—she turned out to have just as much of a sweet tooth as her brother and claimed to miss his home baking—until hesitantly, Rin and Len rose and approached Meiko. She blinked.

"We made something for you together," said Len, gesturing to his sister. "It's, um..."

"Tada! It's a bracelet!" Beaming, Rin presented it to her, and at a loss for words Meiko took it. Both twins watched expectantly as she slipped the bracelet over her hand and held it up to the light to admire the way it looked.

"Do you like it?" Len asked shyly, glancing between her eyes and the corner of the rug. "We picked out beads that reminded us of you."

It was childish, certainly, and it wasn't the type of bracelet Meiko ever envisioned herself wearing, but as she gazed at it, a warm feeling coursed through her, originating from her core and spreading down to the very tips of her fingers. Interspersed with beads of varying shapes and sizes were five that spelled out the letters of her name. The sparkly and star-shaped beads were certainly tacky, and some of the colors felt too vibrant in combination with one another. Even so...

"It's beautiful," Meiko said at last, and out of the corner of her eye she saw the adoring way Kaito was watching them, as though they were something infinitely precious and he wanted to commit their image to memory. It made her face feel hot. "Thank you—I love it."

The night grew ever darker, and as much as Meiko wanted the festivities to continue, at last it was time to go. The twins had been put to bed, pleased at having finessed three separate adults for presents and excited for Santa to visit the following morning and top off their Christmas haul. They looked peaceful in their sleep. Meiko said her goodbyes and Kaito saw her off, and with some degree of reluctance she ventured from the warm glow of his house into the muted atmosphere of night.

Outside, it was dark. Still, the cold air could do little to dislodge the warmth nestled in her core that had built up over the course of the evening, and she felt unusually content as she made her way down his driveway.

She was happy, Meiko realized. Winter was still cold and dreary, and her family and many of her friends were still miles and miles away. Despite that, she hadn't enjoyed the holidays quite to this extent in years, and for that she had Kaito and his family to thank. Unbidden, a soft smile played upon her lips.

She was stopped by a sudden voice.

"Meiko?"

She froze mid-step. There was the sound of a door swinging shut, and swallowing her trepidation, she turned around.

"Oh, good—it seems I caught you in time." Miku stood in the doorway, one hand lingering on the edge of the handle as she stepped forward. She had thrown a jacket hastily over her holiday sweater, which clashed horribly with the rest of her outfit.

Sensing Meiko's discomfort, Miku shook her head. "Please, this isn't anything too serious." Sheepishly, she smiled as she descended the steps towards the walkway. Meiko watched dumbly as she approached, so overtaken by a sudden uneasy feeling that she could not speak. "I just wanted to talk something out with you before you went home. Is that okay?"

"That's..." Meiko swallowed several times, trying to find her voice. "That's fine. What's up?"

Miku's shoes echoed once more against the concrete, and then she came to a stop in front of Meiko. Her blue eyes caught on the light as she lifted her head to look Meiko in the eye.

"I'll be frank," said Miku. "Meiko, what do you think about my brother?"

"About Kaito?" Meiko frowned, confused. "What's this about?"

"Perhaps I wasn't clear enough." Her expression bearing the slightest hint of conflict, Miku looked down to tug at her sleeves, which hung unevenly on her wrists from her haste to pull on her jacket. Then she looked up once more. "Meiko, do you like him?"

Stunned, Meiko shut her jaw with a clack. Her blood ran cold. Her heart began to race, and even the subzero December air felt too hot against her skin. Several feet away, Miku's gaze remained as unflappable as ever, even as in front of her Meiko struggled to form words.

Internally, Meiko cursed herself. She had been so preoccupied with the possibility of Kaito picking up on her feelings that she had let down her guard down around Miku, who much to her dismay was just as perceptive as her older brother, if not more. And despite how friendly and cheerful Miku appeared to be, in the moment she could not have been more intimidating.

Finally, Meiko dipped her head, resigned. There was nothing to it. "Yes," she admitted. The tips of her ears burned, and not just from cold.

The silence dragged on. Miku's face remained unreadable, and she showed no signs of judgment. Meiko wanted to plead for her to say something—anything, if only to break this awful silence.

At last, Miku spoke. "I see," she said, voice perfectly even. "That's fine, then."

Without explanation, she turned away, the long strands of her hair catching on the wind. Meiko opened her mouth to protest, but she only circled around Meiko's form until she was facing away from her and towards the empty street.

"Since that's the case, I just wanted to mention a few things." Her tone was light, and Meiko couldn't decide whether or not she was grateful for not being able to see Miku's face. Her fingers curled in anticipation.

Miku inhaled deeply, her breath leaving puffs in the cold air. "There are several things you should know about Kaito as a romantic partner, as well as regarding Kaito's previous relationship—by which, of course, I mean his relationship with Rin and Len's mother."

"But—wait," Meiko protested in spite of her curiosity. "Should we really be discussing this without him? Would Kaito be okay with it?"

"If he's not, I'll take full responsibility when the time comes. Call me meddlesome if you wish, but I suppose the two of us have always been a touch meddlesome when it comes to one another." Miku craned her neck and lifted a hand to shield her eyes, as though she wanted to gaze at the moon but had forgotten it wasn't quite so bright as the sun.

A pause. "The first thing you should be aware of is that any relationship with Kaito must necessarily involve Rin and Len. He would never accept an arrangement that excludes them. Even then, are you okay with that?"

With Miku turned away like this, she was impossible to read, and it made responding all the more difficult. "I..."

Meiko hesitated. She supposed it was obvious Kaito and his children would be a package deal, but she had yet to give it much thought. She had never viewed herself as much of a parental figure—she was always too headstrong, too free-willed. As a young girl, she had never been able to keep her mouth shut or maintain any semblance of subtlety when she felt that she was in the right, which had all too often led to altercations with her fellow classmates. And though she had always hoped for a life partner, children were the one parameter she had never quite been able to fit into the equation. She wasn't opposed to the idea, but she had never particularly wanted them, either. And yet...

She pictured Rin and Len's glowing faces as they had unwrapped their gifts, the image still fresh on her mind. She thought of the birthday card that was displayed proudly in her entranceway, and the clumsy but heartfelt bracelet now wrapped proudly around her wrist. She thought of Rin, who always had a ready smile on her face, who spoke for two people when her brother was too shy to raise his own voice, and who in truth worried deeply for her father and perhaps yearned for a mother figure in her life. And she thought of Len, who was more reserved but had opened up beautifully over the past few months, who was so helplessly soft-hearted he couldn't bear to eat anything animal-shaped, and who shared in Rin's burdens and worries but was too afraid to express them.

Miku was still waiting for an answer. And Meiko had one that she knew in her heart to be true.

"I can't say this with one-hundred percent confidence," Meiko admitted, "but I would be willing to give it a chance." Her heart thudded against her ears, but she pressed onwards. "Rin and Len, they...they mean a lot to me. And I would never want to make them anything less than a priority. If seeing Kaito meant damaging their relationship with their father or otherwise bringing them distress, then I'd remove myself without hesitation. To me, that's not even a question."

"...I see."

Again, silence. Meiko deflated at Miku's tepid response, wondering if she had failed some sort of unspoken test, but Miku continued on without elaboration.

"The other thing I wanted to say was..." Miku shifted to adjust the jacket over her shoulders. "Kaito's previous relationship lasted for a little under a year and ended over ten years ago now—and Kaito hasn't dated since." She waited a moment for the information to sink in. "Whether he hasn't had the time or he simply hasn't allowed himself to—that's still unclear to me. But my hunch is that he doesn't want to inadvertently end up hurting the twins if a relationship doesn't work out—and perhaps just as importantly, he's afraid of being hurt himself."

"That's..." Meiko's gaze flickered downwards. She didn't know whether to feel indignant on Kaito's behalf, or if she was simply sad.

"I'm sorry if I'm coming off as overly harsh, but really, it's that I can't bear to see Kaito get hurt." Miku's puff of breath climbed several feet into the air before dissipating. Slowly, she turned back around, meeting Meiko's eyes once more. Her expression was calm, and yet her lips were pursed, her eyes ever so slightly pinched. "Because this time, it may well and truly break him."

A car sped past, briefly silhouetting Miku's form, and then it vanished into the distance.

For a moment, Meiko didn't respond. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet but measured. "What would you have me do?" she asked.

"Well, ultimately your decision is your own." Miku shrugged, as if it didn't matter to her in the slightest. "The two of you are your own people, and that means you can decide what's best for yourselves. Far be it from me to suggest your next course of action." Another pause. "Still, I think these are things that you should know and consider. And if you truly care for Kaito and want to pursue a relationship with him, then I wish you nothing but happiness. I mean, he's my brother, so I really do hope things work out for the best!" She giggled at that, and Meiko joined in, and at last the tension drained.

Meiko's shoulders shook from the aftermath of her laughter, and she nodded. "Noted. I'll certainly keep that in mind."

Miku nodded, looking rather pleased that she understood. "That's all I ask. Anyway, I'd better head inside. It's quite cold out, isn't it?" She drew her jacket closer around her shoulders, and Meiko realized that now that her adrenaline had worn off, it truly was.

With one final wave, Miku turned to ascend the steps up to the doorway. Meiko watched her go, a myriad of thoughts running through her mind.

Unable to stop herself, she called out, "Oh, and Miku?"

Miku came to a stop, glancing over her shoulder questioningly. Her form cast a long shadow under the dim light that escaped from the house.

Meiko smiled. "Thanks."

Chapter Text

At long last, December drew to a close and January began. Meiko was cautiously optimistic regarding her prospects for the new year. It had been four whole months now since she had uprooted her life, she realized with a start, and since she had made the move across the country many unexpected but not unwelcome developments had occurred. She tried to imagine what the new year could bring if things continued on their current trajectory.

But if nothing else, it brought the twins right to her doorstep. Bright and early one January morning, Rin and Len rang on her doorbell, and she smiled and let them in.

"We have something to tell you!" Rin announced, digging around in her bag. It was a purple backpack shaped like a cat, the depiction of its yawning mouth forming the outermost pocket, and Meiko's expression softened as she tried to picture Kaito picking it out with her from the store. The mental image was rather heartwarming.

"Oh?" Meiko raised an eyebrow, and Rin beamed as she presented her with a card.

"You're invited to our birthday party!" said Len, pumping his fists into the air.

"Actually, you're double-invited. Since we both wanted to invite you, instead of just one of us," added Rin conspiratorially, and Meiko had to fight to hide her amusement at the childish use of logic.

"Well, I'm honored." Indulgently, she made a show of scanning over the card and mouthing the words to herself, and Rin and Len waited with eager anticipation. "Thank you, you two—I'd love to attend."

Although it was a new year, in some ways not much had changed—Meiko still braved the awful traffic each morning and made her way to Kaito's place every Saturday. Now that winter break was over and school had resumed, Kaito trying to wrestle the twins into their winter coats each morning once again became an amusingly commonplace sight. More than once, she caught Rin (but Dad, it's not even that cold out) and Kaito (put on the coat, Rin) in the midst of a heated argument, which usually ended up a pouting Rin trailing her father and brother to the bus stop.

The day before the twins' birthday party, Meiko showed up as she usually did for movie night, only to find the family hard at work preparing for the upcoming celebration.

"Oh, Meiko!" Kaito blinked down at her from the doorway in surprise, then held his hand to his forehead in an exaggerated gesture of disappointment. "Wait, it's Saturday, isn't it? It completely slipped my mind. I'm sorry, we've been so busy preparing for tomorrow that we haven't picked out anything for us to watch..."

"Can I help?" said Meiko brightly, and he trailed off, lifting his head to look at her in surprise.

"Are you sure?" he asked, and she nodded.

And so she found herself joining in on their birthday party preparations. The Meiko from several months ago would have found it bizarre to help write and hang up signs and set up little stations for games and snacks with her neighbors, but in the moment she found that didn't mind. Thankfully, Kaito had already cleaned the house from top to bottom, leaving the more interesting tasks to her and the twins.

As she worked on making a poster, Miku's parting words from the previous month came back to her, and even now her cheeks still faintly burned from the lingering impression of vulnerability. Subtly, she glanced out of the corner of her eye towards where Kaito was guiding Len through the process of folding paper flowers. The expression on his face was so gentle that she couldn't help the small smile that formed on her lips.

Kaito truly was incredible. He was kind, and funny, and generous, even to someone who had once been a complete stranger such as herself. Meiko was often told she was too intense, and in her efforts to modulate that she could come off as stifled and awkward to new people. Despite that, she had grown comfortable around him thanks to his easygoing nature.

Now was hardly an appropriate time, what with the four of them busy preparing for the twins' birthday party, but perhaps one day in the not so distant future she would breach the topic and suggest the possibility of becoming something more and see if he would reciprocate.

Like this, it really felt like she belonged. She wasn't just an acquaintance subsisting off her neighbors' goodwill, nor was she a casual friend who occasionally helped with the occasional favor. No—she was miles from home, and she was right where she was meant to be.

"Could you please pass me that, Meiko?" asked Rin, and they exchanged brief smiles as the girl took a marker from Meiko's hand.

Any relationship with Kaito must necessarily involve Rin and Len. The fact was obvious in hindsight, and without intending to Meiko paused to watch the twins in a candid instance of domesticity. Len had finally finished folding his flower, which was slightly lopsided but sat proudly beside his father's, and he beamed as Kaito displayed them as the centerpiece of their kitchen table. Several feet away, Rin was busy drawing her own poster. Her tongue poked out from the corner of her mouth, and she kicked her legs back and forth as she drew broad squiggles across the length of paper.

Could she imagine a life spent alongside them? Perhaps she could help to comb Rin's hair in the morning—she imagined pulling its length through Rin's ribbon as the girl squirmed and complained for her to hurry things up. Perhaps she could drive Len out to the surrounding country one night and show him all the pictures of the animals he loved so much that were etched into the stars. Perhaps she could take the two of them on hikes, or practice kicking around a ball with them, or teach them to cook alongside their father. She wanted to be accepted into their lives and see them grow as people, she realized—and somehow, the realization didn't surprise her in the slightest.

"Hey, add a tiny bit of glue along the bottom of your poster?" Rin instructed from over her shoulder, returning her from her thoughts. Confused, Meiko complied.

And without missing a beat, the girl reached for a jar of glitter and dumped it onto the paper below, spilling some across the floorboards in the process.

"Rin..." Shaking his head in exasperation, Kaito stepped away from Len and tore off a piece of paper towel to clean up the mess, and Meiko moved to help him. He seemed irritated by his daughter's antics, but he didn't have the heart to scold her properly as she eagerly anticipated her birthday party.

"But really—thank you, Meiko," said Kaito as he helped prop up the other end of the sign Meiko was attaching to the wall. "You didn't have to help out, but this makes things so much easier on us."

"Are you excited for the party too, Meiko?" asked Rin as she drew a line across a fresh sheet of poster paper. She hummed a little to herself as she worked, and Meiko suppressed a smile.

"I am. Thank you again for inviting me."

What she didn't mention was that she expected to find herself helping Kaito to run the party more than participating in the actual activities themselves. Even so, she was happy to lend a hand, and she was secretly pleased that the twins wanted her there to celebrate their birthday in the first place.

Once the posters and decorations were made, she and Kaito began rearranging furniture to create an open space. The two of them were soaked in sweat by the time they finished, and Meiko paused to wipe a weary hand across her forehead.

If nothing else, though, at least the twins were entertained from where they sat curled up on the couch to watch them work. "That was awesome!" Len's eyes went wide. "You moved that shelf all by yourself, Meiko!"

Somewhat bashfully, she shrugged. "Well, I try to keep myself in shape." Still, she could admit she had been slacking as of late, what with her reluctance to leave the house when it was so very cold outside.

"I wonder," mused Rin to herself, "how strong is Meiko, really? She could be stronger than all of us. What do you think, Dad?"

"Huh? Well..." Sheepishly, Kaito rubbed at the back of his neck. "I think you may well be right."

"What? Too scared to actually face me?" Meiko raised an eyebrow and extended a hand in challenge, unable to resist poking fun at him. "You know, it would be plenty easy to test and see who's stronger between the two of us."

"Oh no, I'm quite all right," he said wryly, shaking his head. Though he pulled a face, the look in his eyes was good-natured. "And I'd rather not get on your bad side, so I'll gladly cede here to you."

Meiko laughed, rolling her eyes. "Coward," she teased without venom, and he shrugged.

"Aw, Dad, come on!" Rin pouted, hands on her hips as she glared up at her father. He craned his neck to meet her gaze in half-hidden amusement. "That's no good at all. Are you just going to let her push you around like this if you get married?"

Silence.

Meiko froze. "What?"

Several feet away, Kaito's hand stilled against his neck. His face was white. "Rin." He swallowed. "What did you say?"

"I said...huh?" Bewildered, Rin straightened and dropped her hands to her sides. "Did I say something wrong?"

Meiko exchanged a helpless look with Kaito, who looked just as lost and uneasy as she was. She wondered if she had misheard, but Kaito was quicker to react. Carefully, he sank to one knee, leaning forward so he could look his daughter in the eye. "Rin," he said patiently, "why do you think we might be getting married?" He forced the words out like they caused him physical discomfort to say.

"Because you're together. And that's what people who are together do." She glanced back and forth between them, brow furrowed as if she were trying to solve a particularly difficult puzzle. "You are together, right?"

Beside her, Len made a frantic waving gesture with his hands, his eyes wide with panic. He must have realized they had misstepped, but Rin didn't seem to receive his message.

"I, um..." For once, Kaito seemed at a loss for words. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed in a blatant stall for time. Carefully, he reached out to lay a hand on Rin's shoulder, his expression conflicted but and measured. "Rin, you must be mistaken. We aren't...involved in any romantic capacity, I'm afraid."

Rin frowned, as though she still didn't understand. "But you like her, right?" she protested. "And you have her do practically everything with you by this point. She's basically part of our family! So why wouldn't you be together?"

Kaito's eyes went wide with shock, and if it were even possible, he paled even further. His hand tensed against Rin's shoulder until Meiko could make out the outline of his veins standing out starkly from beneath his skin.

Against her will, Meiko's heart missed a beat at Rin's words. Mentally, she pinched herself for allowing herself such an indulgence in such a precarious situation. "Kaito," she said, unable to stop herself, "you..."

With a start, he glanced up, and now she could see the raw fear in his eyes, as if he had been exposed for some grave sin and he had no means to deny it. His mouth opened and closed several times in a vain effort to protest, but no sound came out. His usual smile had fallen away, and in its absence he seemed almost like a cornered animal, in a way that Meiko thought he should never look.

Rin's eyes moved between them several more times, and at last understanding dawned on her. "Oh," she said, quietly.

They lapsed into silence. Rin's expression morphed from innocent curiosity into something painfully crestfallen, and simultaneously her breathing picked up in volume. "Oh, I've ruined it," she said, and her face fell.

And then she ducked her head down in agonized shame, as if she couldn't bear to look either of them in the eye, and with more strength than Meiko thought her capable of she tore away from Kaito's grip, ignoring his protests for her to stay.

"Rin—"

"No, I can't, I'll—I'll talk later."

And then she fled from the room, Kaito scrambling desperately after her. Len watched helplessly, like he couldn't decide what to do with himself, before, seeming to remember Meiko's presence, turning back towards her.

"Meiko..."

"I have to go. I'm sorry."

Len looked betrayed, but she allowed herself hardly a moment's guilt as she pivoted on her heel and made for the front door, letting it slam shut behind her with a decisive thud.

Her heartbeat pulsed against her ears, and she leaned back against the wood grain of the door, trying to catch her breath. Kaito liked her. He liked her, and yet she wasn't happy. Because in the worst possible way, everything was now out in the open, plain as day for anyone to see.

And now that it was, Meiko decided that she didnt want to see it.

The following day, Meiko could hardly bear to show her face at Rin and Len's birthday party. She couldn't imagine what she would say to Kaito were she to encounter him, and putting herself in such a situation willingly seemed like an easy recipe for disaster.

She considered staying home, but she had no excuse for skipping after agreeing to attend, which meant she had to pull herself together and show up like she had promised the twins.

So Meiko mentally prepared herself and made her way to Kaito's house. She tried to smile through the games and through lunch, but she could barely stand to look at Kaito the entire time, which made for a miserable experience. The usually high-spirited Rin seemed a touch subdued, and Len tried extra hard to be cheerful in her place, which came off as odd given his naturally more mellow demeanor. Thankfully, none of the other children noticed, but to Meiko the tension in the air could not have been more obvious.

Itching to escape, she made to exit as soon as the party ended, but she was stopped by a hand on her wrist. Her feet stilled against the doorsteps.

"Meiko," said Kaito, and dread flooded her heart. She mentally cursed her luck at encountering the person she least wanted to see, and at the last possible moment, no less.

With no small degree of trepidation, Meiko looked over her shoulder to face him. His eyes were blown wide with panic, as if he were pleading for her to stay. Reluctantly, she turned around, and he released his grip on her wrist and shut the door delicately behind him.

Meiko's eyes darted back and forth, looking everywhere but his face, and the silence stretched on for so long it was stifling. She would rather be anywhere but here—in front of Kaito, at his doorstep.

"Look, about yesterday..." He had to fight for words. By his legs, he fidgeted with his hands. "I'm sorry if what Rin said made you uncomfortable."

"No, it's okay." Meiko forced a smile, hoping to bring a swift end to the conversation. "They're kids. Misunderstandings happen, right?"

Kaito gave a noncommittal shrug, looking as though he still had something weighing on his mind. "And I'm sorry if..." He paused to lick at his lips. "Well, I hope you don't feel uncomfortable with me." He ducked his head, seeming almost ashamed, and Meiko froze.

"Kaito, I could never," she protested.

"I promise I didn't befriend you with any ulterior motives in mind. But even then, I understand if you need some distance between us." He spoke slowly, like every word caused him physical pain. "And I'll stay out of your way if you still want to see Rin and Len. They clearly see you as part of our family and want you around, and they don't deserve to get caught up in this."

"No, Kaito, please. You're...you're not getting it." A sudden idea struck her, and her heart began to pound faster in her chest. This was her chance to clarify matters once and for all and lay all her cards face-up on the table—if she played her hand correctly, she could resolve both Kaito's feelings and her own in a single move. Nervous energy began to build up beneath her skin, but she steeled herself and committed to honesty.

"Kaito, I don't mind," she said, her voice nearly a whisper, "because I like you, too."

With that, she closed her eyes and braced herself for his response.

When he didn't reply, she released a shaky breath and looked up to meet his eyes. They were wide from shock, yet somehow entirely unreadable, and it was such a contrast from his usual openness that she found herself hesitating.

"Kaito?" she said, and he froze.

"Are you...being serious?"

She nodded, and his expression shuttered. He swallowed, working his throat several times in a vain effort to form words. To her alarm, his shoulders began to tremble. He lowered his head.

"You don't have to say that to make me feel better." His voice had gone very, very quiet.

She blanched. "What are you talking about?" she managed, her voice hoarse.

He looked genuinely hurt. His jaw tightened, and she saw from the corner of her eye the way his fists clenched. "I don't need your pity," he gritted out from between his teeth. "It is not wanted."

Meiko stepped back on instinct. She opened and closed her mouth several times in shock, and unable to stop herself, she rounded on him. "Kaito, why would you think that?" Where on earth had he gotten such an idea? The way he had spoken made it clear he had been stewing on his thoughts for a long time, and yet somehow the notion had never occurred to her. She was baffled.

"Why? Why indeed?" He descended the steps and then pivoted so that he could face her on equal footing. "Meiko, you've seen me at my worst. You've seen me struggle to raise my kids, and you've seen me when I was sick and helpless. If that wasn't bad enough, I've even had to rely on you multiple times with Rin and Len. You must think me incapable—pathetic, even—a father unable to take care of his own children."

He jabbed a finger towards her, and her eyes briefly fixed on it, catching the way it trembled almost imperceptibly. "And now my own kids are practically asking for us to get together. After everything I've tried, Meiko, they need you. How humiliating is that? It's awfully convenient that you would wait until now to give any hint of your supposed feelings towards me. How can I be certain you aren't just trying to help me save face in front of my children by going along with their act? To protect them and give them some peace of mind, since I'm apparently so incapable of doing so myself?"

Meiko reeled as if she had been slapped. "Kaito, please," she started, realizing how her confession had come off and wishing she had handled the situation with more tact. "I wasn't lying, and I don't appreciate the slight against my character."

"I don't need you to feel obligated to tell me you like me out of some misguided sense of pity." His eyes were wild with some mixture of hurt and panic, and he was so stubborn that she bit the inside of her mouth in frustration. "I am not that desperate. I don't want you to appease my children's fantasies or insinuate that I can't raise them on my own."

"I did no such thing," Meiko forced out. A gradual anger began building up inside her, and she was helpless to it. "Everything you've said has been mere assumption."

"Is it, now? What possible reason could you have to like someone...someone like me, if not pity?" And he looked like he really believed what he was saying, too. Her chest felt hot. "I'm pathetic—I've never done anything in front of you but make myself out to be a fool. And I'm not so delusional that I'd believe your words to be the truth."

"I just don't get you!" Meiko cut in, unable to bear his words any longer. "What's wrong with you—why are you so adamant on refuting everything I say? Why are you so insistent on taking all the burden upon yourself? Why are you...why are you so determined to be miserable?"

Unintentionally, her true thoughts spilled out, and the silence that ensued was deafening.

His mouth opened in slack-jawed shock, and his knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists so tightly they must have hurt. Then he leaned in towards her, snarling, and spoke as if he was no longer able to stop himself.

It was like the band around a faucet had worn down at last, and now the flow of water was relentless. "What do you want me to tell you, then? That I had to move back home after the twins' birth because I couldn't support the three of us even though I swore I would never return there? That I was so depressed for weeks I could barely even get out of bed except to change and feed Rin and Len? That I took every single accusation my parents leveled against me because I had no other choice? That I had been aiming for degree honors but in the end I could barely pull it together to graduate in time? Well? Is that what you wanted me to say?"

Meiko froze, at a loss for words, and he shook with ill-contained shame and rage. "It's all true—all of it," he snapped, as if trying to prove a point. She caught the raw hurt in his voice and in his every gesture, and it struck her that she had done this—dug it up, unearthed it. She had been led along a trail of breadcrumbs she was never meant to follow and found at the end something she had hoped to never know.

He looked down at his feet, as if suddenly drained, and refused to meet her eyes. "You don't need to force yourself to associate with me. I'm fine on my own."

At once, the realization dawned on her that despite his gentle demeanor, Kaito was fiercely independent. He had always relied on himself—even among the tumultuous years of Rin and Len's early childhood, that had been the one constant truth in his life. Against her will, Meiko couldn't help but imagine a young Kaito—much younger, knowing little of the world, still reeling from the drastic changes in his life and the departure of a lover, trying so desperately to raise two children on his own who were wholly dependent on him. It must have been painful, and unbearably lonely. In spite of that, he had endured and continued to smile, even though there were times he must have wanted to cry.

"Kaito..." Shoulders dropping, Meiko took one step closer to him.

Instinctively, he stepped back, and the rejection implicit in his action stung. She could not see his eyes. He must have been too ashamed to face her.

"Please leave." His voice was shaky with emotion.

She hesitated, her heart dropping in her chest. She opened her mouth to speak, but still he refused to look at her. Slowly, she closed her mouth. Her hands trembled with fear and regret and a thousand other emotions, although surely he would be unable to see them.

Finally, she gave a curt nod, turning on her heel and walking away. He didn't react, and she didn't look back. Somehow, their encounter left her feeling indescribably hollow, and her expression crumpled.

She should never have come.

Chapter Text

The following week was downright miserable. Once more, Meiko altered her schedule so she wouldn't have to see Kaito in the mornings, and though it helped her to avoid rush hour traffic, this time it didn't make her feel any better.

Rin and Len still waved at her when she drove past them in the evenings, but they seemed subdued, as though they were hesitant to approach her. And as much as Meiko hated their newfound distance, she was also in a sense relieved. She couldn't bear to face them as things were. After all, she had nothing to say to them.

The invisible barrier between them remained, until at last Len rang on her door one quiet evening. He looked painfully uncertain at her doorstep as he fidgeted with his hands. It reminded her of when they had first met and Len had been too shy to string more than a few words together, and internally, Meiko cursed herself. She should never have let her altercation with their father affect her dynamic with the twins.

With that thought in mind, she welcomed him inside, and hesitantly he perched on the edge of her couch.

"Meiko," he said, his voice soft. From this angle, he really did resemble his father, from the seriousness of his expression to the tension in his posture. As things stood, the reminder was bitter more than anything. "Could I tell you something?"

The look on Meiko's face was somehow sad. "Len," she said, seating herself across from him, "you know you can tell me anything. I apologize if I gave you a different impression."

He slipped her a grateful half-smile at that, wringing his hands together in his lap. Then he spoke. "I'm sorry Rin and I assumed...that about you and Dad." He didn't have to specify what that was.

"That's okay. I mean, I was a bit put off at the time," she admitted, "but I don't blame you. Neither of you meant any harm, I'm sure."

"It's just," he continued, "Dad does care about you. To us, it's obvious." As much as the mention of Kaito stung, Meiko couldn't help but feel flattered at the admission, and part of that must have shown on her face by the way Len's eyes softened. "He lets you help watch over us, even though he often worries so much he tries to do everything on his own. And he even fell asleep against you, that one time."

Meiko swallowed as she recalled the memory, remembering how his hair had itched at her neck and his warmth had felt so solid against her. Beside her, Len kept talking. "You might not realize this, but Dad rarely lets his guard down enough to fall asleep in the presence of others. He hardly ever relaxes around anybody. He hates making people worry about him. And it's been that way since we were very small. Even Rin and me don't see him sleep that often, since he's always busy working on something or other. That's how me and Rin knew that you were something special to him."

They lapsed into silence, and Meiko's gaze drifted towards the window as she processed the new information. In retrospect, from what she had seen of Kaito, Len's assessment seemed accurate. She wondered how she had failed to realize sooner. Rin and Len must have been discussing this between themselves for a long time, she realized, and it must have taken Len a great deal of courage to be honest with her. It was only fair she return the gesture.

"I like him, too," she admitted, and she was surprised by how easy it was. Len only smiled, as if she had confirmed something he already knew.

"...Honestly, Dad's always been a bit of a worrywart." Len's gaze was distant, and Meiko frowned, wondering exactly where he was going with this. "He worries about the two of us so much, and he never wants us to see when he's sad. But we're not blind, you know? We can tell when he's hurting. And we—and we don't want to see him like that, either."

Slowly, he looked up, his face pinched. "Dad's never been so happy as he has been around you. He smiles and laughs more, and he looks so comfortable," he said quietly. "He always looks out for our happiness, and we want him to be happy, too."

"Len..." She wondered exactly how much he and Rin had thought about this, and something in her chest ached.

"I wasn't sure at first." Meiko opened her mouth, confused as to what he was referring to, but Len's eyes were directed forward at something very far away. "I'd never seen Dad like that before. I was scared of the changes I saw in him, and what your presence meant for us. That's what Rin and I argued about during our big fight back in November." At that, Meiko started as she recalled the way Rin had approached her doorstep, face streaked with tears. "We weren't sure how we felt about you becoming part of our family, and couldn't decide whether or not to trust you. Rin liked you, but at the time I couldn't accept that. That's why she was so upset."

"Oh, Len," Meiko said, because there was nothing else she could say to that. So many worries for such a small boy, she thought to herself, and it made her heart hurt.

Unbidden, the image of Rin from the tail end of autumn superimposed itself onto Len's form, and Meiko was struck with a sudden sense of deja vu. Back then, Rin had been the more vocal twin and Len had kept primarily to himself. And now in a twist of fate, it was Len who sought Meiko out and his sister who avoided her. So many things had changed in such a few short months, she realized, but looking back, she could begin to see how everything was woven together.

"But, Meiko, I've thought about it," said Len, "and I want to let you know I've decided that I like you. Whatever you do, I think I...I trust you. I believe that you care about Dad and that you have his best interests at heart. Is that...is that okay?"

She turned to meet his eyes, and his face was so very earnest it gave her pause. His expression was so young, and at eleven years old his mannerisms were still boyish more than anything, but even so she was surprised by how very grown-up he sounded in the heat of the moment. But then again, Len had always seen so much more than he ever verbalized.

Touched by his honesty, Meiko gave him a small smile, and the disquiet within her eased, even if only briefly. "Thank you, Len," she said by way of response.

He nodded, satisfied that she had listened to what he had to say. "So, um..." Shifting his position on the couch, he leaned back to rest some of his weight on his hands. "What will you do next?"

"What will I do next?" she echoed, and he hummed in affirmation. She had been hoping to put that question off until later, but it was only natural that one way or another, her time would run out. In an unintentional display of agitation, she reached out to pick at a loose thread along the edge of the cushion, but deliberately she stilled her hands and tucked them underneath her legs. "I don't know." If nothing else, though, she wouldn't lie to him. "There are still things I need to think about and things I need to sort out. But I appreciate what you've said today. Your words matter a lot to me, Len."

"Um, okay," Len said quietly. "Will I see you this Saturday, at least?"

Meiko paused. She had been so caught up in her own thoughts that she had completely forgotten about their weekly movie nights. She didn't want to give him false hope for things that would not come true, and so she replied, "Perhaps not. I need some time to myself."

Len nodded, as though he had expected such an answer. "I understand." His eyes were sad, but they held more understanding and sympathy than any eleven year-old boy's had any right to. "After you've thought about it, come talk to us again, okay? Rin and I miss you."

"Of course," said Meiko as she saw him out, her heart clenching ever-so-slightly in her chest. "I miss you guys, too."

And so, the week dragged on. Meiko continued to avoid Kaito like the plague, and Kaito didn't so much as show his face. It was suffocating. In her moments of weakness, she wondered what he might be thinking to himself. Perhaps he was happy to have her out of his life for good so he could raise the twins all on his own, or perhaps he regretted the way he had spoken to her but was too entangled in his own guilt to apologize. Ultimately, though, it wasn't as if she could read minds, so such speculative thoughts were entirely futile.

Unable to bear the sound of her own thoughts or the silence of her house any longer, that Friday she made the impulsive decision to fly back and see her parents. The financial burden aside, she was reluctant to spend her thus far meager vacation days so soon after the holidays, but it was a small price to pay for some peace of mind.

Her parents received her warmly, although they seemed confused with regards to her sudden appearance. The three of them had last seen each other in the summer before she had moved, but they called her often, and Meiko had yet to give any indication that something was wrong over the phone.

In a way, she was relieved to be back. It was familiar, and that meant it was comfortable. Here, there were no single fathers to occupy her thoughts, and no energetic children to stop her to talk at every opportunity. She tried to convince herself that she was happier without them. She was finally, blessedly alone.

With a great deal of relief, she immersed herself in the familiar way the sun shone through her childhood window and in the nostalgic flavor of her parents' homecooked meals—although she had been somewhat spoiled lately when it came to food thanks to Kaito, and she found with some degree of surprise that her parents couldn't quite match up against his culinary skills. It was odd to think how much her perspective had shifted since she had left because of him.

By this point, Meiko had been away for long enough that she felt somewhat out of place, but she had expected as much. Somehow in the intervening months, home had become a little less of the place she had grown up in and a little more of being curled up against a couch in a warm room, eating ice cream to the sound of children's laughter as a television cast multicolored shadows against the wall.

She sighed, rolling over on her mattress. Absently, she hovered a hand above her head, and her eyes were drawn to the way the beads on her bracelet caught the light. It was the bracelet Rin and Len had gifted her for Christmas, she realized, and guilt churned in her stomach.

She was lonely, she realized. She was home, surrounded by her parents, and yet she was lonely.

Meiko spent her time dallying around the house. For the most part, that translated into lying around and feeling rather sorry for herself. It was unlike her, and her parents were probably worried, but their probing questions went nowhere. And though they were curious to hear about how she was doing and asked her questions about her life, they left her mostly alone once they saw she was troubled and working through some sort of personal matter. It seemed they had reached a mutual agreement that she would speak to them once she was ready, which would happen in due time.

The weekend passed her by, and she wondered how her neighbors' movie night had gone. Oddly enough, she couldn't envision it being particularly enjoyable for them, no matter how much she tried to convince herself her presence didn't matter. And she realized that unknowingly, she had inserted herself into their lives, and then she had made herself scarce when it befitted her. The thought made her feel like a terrible person, and the guilt in turn made her misery worse.

What kind of person exactly was she, to have befriended someone, claimed to care for his children, and promised his sister to be cognizant of his feelings, before running away at the slightest hint of trouble?

Her self-pity was at last interrupted when one day, Luka showed up at her door and all but dragged her from the house.

Her arrival was very much of the blue, and when Meiko asked what the occasion was, Luka said, "Well, I suppose you can view this as a chance to celebrate my birthday and take your mind off things."

January 30. With a start, Meiko realized what day it was, and her guilt intensified. She had been so busy wallowing in her own misery she had forgotten the occasion entirely. Nearly the entire month of January had passed her by, and all she had done since the new year was push away new friends and forget about old ones. But Luka was cheerful and didn't seem to mind.

And so Meiko found herself on an impromptu visit to the shopping mall, waiting for Luka to pick out the clothes that she liked. The younger woman had been into fashion for as long as Meiko had known her, and she could easily spend hours in a single section of a store. With a sigh, Meiko resigned herself to an afternoon spent doing absolutely nothing of value and being entirely unproductive—which she supposed was more or less what she had planned on anyway, so perhaps the difference was minimal.

"So," Luka said as she sifted through a clothing rack, "what's wrong?"

Meiko frowned. "What makes you think something's wrong?"

At that, Luka shot her an unamused look. "Well, you're here instead of at work where you're supposed to be, and it's not like today's your birthday, at least last I checked, so I can't imagine what reason you'd have to come back. If that doesn't indicate something's wrong, then I don't know what does."

Shrugging, Meiko conceded her point, but she didn't say anything further.

If Luka was irked by her lack of a verbal response, she didn't show it. Instead, she pulled a dress off the rack and held it in front of her face with a critical eye. "Is this about your neighbor?"

Meiko froze. "Why do you say that?"

"Well, I don't know what else it could be that would upset you like this." With a tsk, Luka returned the dress to its rack and resumed meandering between the shelves of clothing, and Meiko scrambled to catch up. "What, did he reject you or something?"

"N-No, he didn't...reject me, really." At last, she deflated, resigning herself to honesty. And so she told Luka of what had transpired, from Rin's initial assumption about the status of her relationship with Kaito—which, to her chagrin, Luka seemed to find greatly amusing—to their argument, which had ended up being the last time they had seen one another. Finally she trailed off, allowing silence to reign once more.

"Hm." Luka's eyes were thoughtful as she perused the shelves. "That's certainly unexpected."

Meiko hesitated, trying to read her mood. Luka had always been capricious at best, which made doing so almost impossible. "Is that...all you have to say?"

"Well, the part where you called him determined to be miserable or whatever—you probably could've gone without saying that. I know you were frustrated, but imagine how he must have felt. It's hard enough seeking happiness when you're in a situation like his, and then to be told you aren't even really trying? That kind of stuff hurts, you know."

Meiko reeled, stung. But Luka was right. A horrible guilt settled in her stomach, and she balled her hands into fists. "I..."

"Like I said, I understand you were frustrated." An oddly sympathetic expression formed on Luka's face. "Both of you lashed out at one another, and he probably feels the same guilt that you do, so just communicate with him like the responsible adults you are and give him the apology he deserves. It can't be harder than moving halfway across the country for a new job and all the logistics that come with it. It's not anything complicated."

"That's..." Briefly, Meiko glanced away. "Do you really think he'll be able to forgive me?"

Luka shot her a look, like she thought her to be particularly dimwitted, and Meiko deflated. Not for the first time, she cursed her own propensity to speak her mind without thinking. She hated the thought of having to initiate such a conversation with Kaito, but she hated even more the thought of leaving things as they were, with Kaito believing and perhaps eventually internalizing her words. It may well and truly break him, Miku had once said regarding her brother—now, Meiko feared she may have been right.

She would apologize. There was nothing more to it.

Luka kept talking, though. "That aside, it sounds like he's got his own issues he needs to work through, and how he deals with them is up to him." She made a triumphant sound as she found a dress in her size, and carefully, she freed it from its rack. "That said, I don't blame him for how he reacted, even if I think he could have been more delicate about the matter. I mean, think about it from his point of view. He probably feels insecure, and not just about his role as a parent. In fact, I'd imagine one of his worst fears is being a burden on someone else—particularly a romantic partner, after the way his last relationship ended. Add to the mix the fact that he has two young children who are dependent on him and, by extension, whomever he chooses to be with, and...well. It's not exactly a good position to find yourself in."

Meiko's expression turned contemplative as she drew away from her thoughts. "Is that what you think?"

"He's not upset with you, not really," Luka said by way of an answer. "In all honesty, I'd say the person he's most upset with is himself. And I'd wager good money he's frustrated at the way he behaved with you the time you saw him last. I bet he's afraid he pushed you away, and now he's punishing himself by trying to convince himself that's exactly what he wanted all along. But really he just needs time to stew over his own feelings. So in that sense, this temporary distance probably does as much good for him as it does for you."

"I see." Meiko glanced down towards the floor, absently tracing the edges of the shelves with her eyes. "Still, I feel as though I should have waited to open up to him regarding my own feelings. I grew too excited, and I acted on impulse, as I sometimes am prone to doing." She sighed. "I'm conflicted. Deep down, I feel guilty to have come to like him. It feels irresponsible, especially given that he has children and other things on his plate that should take priority over...romance." She said the word like it was something forbidden.

Luka hummed as she ambled over to a mirror and held the dress up against her form. The fabric of the skirt fluttered about her legs as it settled. "Sometimes, you have to ask yourself if there was anything that you, personally, could have done to change any sort of outcome. And if the answer is no—well then, theres your answer."

Meiko frowned. "That seems a little too simplistic."

Shrugging, Luka tugged the sleeve of the dress out a little more. "In my opinion, there's a certain point up to which you must take responsibility for your own actions, and anything beyond that ventures into the territory of punishing yourself without any good reason."

"What do you mean?" asked Meiko, bewildered.

"Sometimes, Meiko," said Luka, "you have to step back and look at your actions with a critical eye, and ask yourself if the things that you blame yourself for really are your fault. Certainly, there are things you could have handled better, like calling him miserable and all, but, I mean, befriending him, falling in love with him—do you think either of those things constitutes some sort of moral failing on your part?"

"Well," said Meiko, struggling to process her words, "No, but—"

"I dont think so, either," agreed Luka, leaning in closer to the mirror to inspect the way a stray strand of hair fell over her shoulder. "People like each other romantically all the time. If that was a crime, then the majority of the world's population would be criminals. And his children believing the two of you to be involved? That's something that at the end of the day, you had no part in and no control over. How they chose to perceive you was entirely up to them. So? What do you think?" She spun around, holding the dress up to her shoulders.

"It's a good color on you," Meiko said blandly, too caught up in her own thoughts to offer more detailed feedback. "But, what about—"

"Well, don't let me dictate to you how you should live your life." Nonchalantly, Luka set the dress down so she could continue scanning for more options. "But to me, the worst thing we as people can do is resign ourselves to unhappiness." She ran a hand through her hair and glanced briefly towards the ceiling, something contemplative in her expression. "If there's something—or rather, someone—that brings you joy, then you should pursue them wholeheartedly and without reservations."

With that, she turned her attention back to shopping, as if she didn't care one way or another. But her words gave Meiko pause, and she fell silent, her thoughts swirling about in her mind. The situation was still delicate, and she wasn't sure exactly what the right course of action would be. Emotional tact had never been one of her strong suits.

Still, Luka was right. There was no use berating herself over something she had little control over, and more than that, she knew what she wanted. And if it was her own fear and her own inhibitions keeping her from pursuing them, then it was up to her to reevaluate her choices.

The worst thing she could do was resign herself to unhappiness. Was she really okay with losing Kaito without ever giving their relationship a chance to grow? Could she bear the misery of seeing him each morning and being too scared to face him, and accept how their friendship would fizzle inevitably into silence? And then one day, in a few months or perhaps many years down the road, she would find a new job and move on with her life and away from him, the two of them by that point little more than strangers to one another.

Len had said he and Rin missed her. She missed them, too. She missed them, and Kaito—sweet, gentle Kaito, who had probably fretted endlessly over the course of the past week—and she missed their movie nights, and Kaito's baked goods, and the way the three of them would show up at her house unprompted. She missed the balance they had established between them, and the little system they had built and all the familiarity that came along with it—something, she realized, that was almost like family.

Her choice was obvious.

"Thank you, Luka," she said with newfound resolve. "I know now what it is I need to do."

Chapter Text

Meiko flew back in on the very first plane she could catch, her mind made up. She spent the duration of her flight reflecting on her choice and rehearsing imaginary conversations in her head, and then arrived home later in the evening after making a quick detour to pick something up from the grocery store.

She worried what Kaito might say upon her return, but ultimately, all she could do on her end was open herself up to meeting in the middle, and anything beyond that would be Kaito's choice. She could only do as much as she had control over, which also meant she was responsible for at least that much. There was nothing more to it.

And so although she was still hesitant, she swallowed her reservations and headed up the well-traveled path to Kaito's house.

It was now the beginning of February, which meant that although the days had been growing steadily longer, it was already dark by the time Meiko arrived. She transferred her purchase from the store to her left hand and rang the bell. After a moment, Kaito swung the door open, and she could pinpoint the exact moment his eyes landed on her by the guarded expression that overtook his face, although he eased slightly when he took note of her posture—open and calm and not at all hostile.

She allowed herself the briefest of moments to drink in the familiarity of his form—the way his mouth hung open when he was surprised, and how his eyebrows scrunched up when he was tense. He had flour in his hair and a smudge of sugar along his cheek, and he was still struggling to undo the straps of his apron—but despite all that, Meiko could not have been happier to see him.

She had missed him this past week, with a thousand questions hanging unaddressed in the air and a thousand more worries they each kept to themselves, but the acute ache of his absence only now became apparent. Despite the tension that remained between them, she couldn't help but relax simply for being able to see him again.

Finally, she spoke.

"Um, hi," she said, holding up the plastic bag in her hand for him to see. "I brought ice cream."

"Sorry to greet you in such a state," he responded, gesturing sheepishly down to his appearance. "I was in the middle of baking, as you may have gathered."

They stared at one another in mutual surprise. Meiko had brought ice cream from the store as an offering like she always did, and Kaito had been stress baking once again, and they couldn't help but break into incredulous laughter at the sheer familiarity of it all. Oddly enough, it felt a little bit like coming home.

At last, their laughter died down. "So...how was your weekend?" Meiko asked, and mentally she kicked herself for such a pointless question.

"My weekend?" Kaito raised an eyebrow. "Uh...it was fine. How was yours?"

"It was good. I went back home to see my parents, actually."

"Really? How are they doing?"

"Same as always, I suppose, which I'm grateful for."

"Good. That's...good."

They lapsed into an awkward silence. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, looking everywhere but his face as Kaito rubbed at the back of his neck in discomfort, which only served to make his hair stand up more than it already did. She had the sudden urge to reach over and straighten it out for him, but she willed her hands to remain by her sides.

"Hey," Meiko began at the same time Kaito said, "Um—"

They shared a nervous laugh. Meiko threw out a hand in an inviting gesture. "You go first."

Kaito shook his head. "No, please, you first."

"On three, then?"

"On three."

"I'm sorry," they said in unison, and Meiko blinked, surprised.

"You're...sorry?" she echoed, and Kaito smiled weakly.

He glanced down, lost in thought. "Maybe we should take this inside," he suggested, and she nodded.

The door shut behind them. "Rin and Len are at a friend's," he explained as he led her indoors, and that certainly accounted for the quietness that had settled over the house and the distinctive lack of high-pitched laughter that she had grown so accustomed to. As they passed the kitchen on the way to the living room, she caught a glimpse of the mixing bowls Kaito had set out along the counter. He really must have been stressed if he was baking enough to feed nearly the whole neighborhood, she thought wryly to herself.

Finally, he came to a stop, although he didn't immediately turn to face her. The couch was mere feet away, but neither of them moved to sit.

"...I'm sorry." His voice was so quiet Meiko had to strain her ears to hear him. "About what happened at the twins' birthday party, I mean. I...I panicked, and my mind automatically assumed the worst. It wasn't fair of me."

She didn't immediately respond, and he deflated slightly, as though he had finally removed a weight from his chest and was now bracing himself for her inevitable rejection.

"You could have handled that better," she said bluntly, and he exhaled, like his worst suspicions had been confirmed. "But," she added, "I practically sprang my confession on you when you were at your most vulnerable. And I can understand your insecurities, too. In the heat of the moment, it was only human that you reacted the way you did. So while I hope you react less on impulse in the future, I can't fully blame you, either."

She hesitated, then continued. "And I'm sorry, too." She picked at her fingers, feeling indescribably exposed in his presence. "I was so caught up in...well, everything that I didn't stop to consider your feelings or that you might be struggling with your own sense of worth. I knew about your previous relationship, and I knew that you still struggle with its emotional aftermath, and yet the thought never occurred to me."

He opened his mouth as if to speak, but she pressed on, determined to lay everything bare. She had to do it—for Len, for Miku, and for everyone else she had promised that she had Kaito's best interests in mind to. "Besides that, I shouldn't have called you miserable the way I did, either. In doing so, I trivialized your struggles and made you out to be someone who has no desire to be happy—which is simply untrue."

For a few moments, his mouth hung open, like her apology was something entirely unexpected. At last, he lowered his gaze.

"That's okay. It hurt, but you weren't entirely wrong, and you did get me to reflect. To be honest, I...I understand why you said such a thing." The look in his eyes was unimaginably distant. "The truth is, at least when it comes to happiness, I am afraid. I don't want to be a burden to others, and I don't want to lose the people I care about—again." He finished the thought in little more than a whisper.

A strange hush fell over the room. Several feet away, Kaito tightened his grip on his upper arm until she could see indents start to form in his skin.

Subconsciously, Meiko's eyes flickered downwards. A strong sense of indignation filled her, swelling like acid from inside her chest and pressing up against the base of her throat. She wanted to argue that he was wrong, and that he was so, so much more than he believed himself to be. Words rolled around in her mouth, as if to escape, and had she not recognized the delicateness of Kaito's position she may have spoken on impulse as she normally did—but for once, she held her tongue.

Instead, she said, "It's okay."

Across from her, Kaito froze. His hand unclenched from around his arm, and at last he looked back towards her, the light falling against his eyelashes drawing thin lines across the planes of his face.

"It's okay, Kaito. I'm here. I understand." She moved towards him, the shadows draped over her shoulders falling away as she approached the window on the far side of the room. "I don't think your flaws define who you are," she continued, watching his emotions play out on his face. "You put far too much weight on them, and not enough on your strengths. Yes, you have insecurities, and sure, there are things that you regret—but you're also thoughtful, and funny, and resilient, and you always give so much of yourself. I mean, that's why I befriended you—because I could see you for the strengths that you do have."

Meiko stepped closer, circling around him so he would have no choice but to look at her. Wordlessly, he turned his body, his eyes shadowed by the weight of what must have been a thousand different burdens, and all at once she found the only option left open to her was honesty.

"Kaito," she said, plainly and without preamble, "I like you."

He froze, as if trying to process what he had heard, and against his will pink spread along his cheeks. "H-Huh?" His head shot up. "What's—why this, all of a sudden?"

"Even if you're flawed, and even if there are times you give in to your own weakness, you're Kaito—and I don't want you to be any other way. I didn't lie the other week, and I'm not lying now." She glanced back and forth, then turned back towards him. "See? The twins aren't here. I have no one to put up an act for—it's just us, Kaito. It's just us."

She inched closer, and his knees trembled minutely, like he had to resist the instinctual urge to step back. "If you'd like, I still want to give this...give us...a try." Her voice was nearly a whisper.

Stubbornly, Kaito averted his gaze. "Don't say that," he protested. "You can't mean that. You're far too good for me."

With a faint smile, Meiko shook her head. "That's not true at all. I'm impulsive, and at times oblivious, and I can be prone to making assumptions. You know this about me already." Slowly, she inhaled. "But I'll accept all of your imperfections, if you accept all of mine."

He looked frantic, and he swallowed several times in vain. "But even if you're okay with me, the twins," he said, determination forming on his features. "They're still—they are my priority. I won't give them up, not even for you."

"I'm not asking you to." She met his eyes, trying to convey that she was serious. "Rin and Len are so important to me. Anyone would be lucky to have them."

I can't say this with one-hundred percent confidence, Meiko had said to Miku once, upon being asked to consider the twins—but now, she was certain. "Kaito," she said, "I...I care about them as much as I do for you. And I want them to be a part of this, too."

He watched her intently, as if trying to gauge if she meant what she had said. Meiko stood by her words, and she refused to waver. She had known them to be true since December, when Miku had made it very clear what a relationship with her brother would entail. But thinking back, somewhere inside she had known even before that—perhaps it was when she had made it a habit to show up to her neighbors' movie nights, or perhaps it was when they had celebrated her birthday, or perhaps it had started as far back as when she would stop every evening to chat with Rin and Len, when they had first wormed their way into her life in a way only children could.

Finally, Kaito spoke. He looked stricken, like her conviction was too good to be true and he himself couldn't quite believe it. "Do you...really mean that?"

"I do."

A pause. An exhale.

"If this doesn't work out," he said, quietly, "it will only mean more instability for the Rin and Len. I can't do that to them, not after everything."

"We can ease into it," Meiko offered, and the muscles in his jaw clenched. "We'll need to speak with them if we intend to become more serious, and if things don't work out we can always call them off. If nothing else, Rin and Len are already used to my presence by this point. Besides, they're eleven this year—they start middle school this coming fall. They're growing up, Kaito. It's impossible to shield them from the truth forever, especially if it's one they already know. So," she said, closing the gap between them and looking up into his face, "for how much longer will you continue to deny yourself happiness?"

When he didn't respond immediately, Meiko stepped back, allowing Kaito to meet her on his own terms. "You can say no—I understand that, too." His eyes pinched at the corners. "This is your choice, Kaito, and I would never hold it against you."

He looked at her. He looked away. Several times, his mouth opened and closed. Finally, he spoke, and his voice was so quiet it was nearly inaudible.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yes. I want you," she said, and it was true.

He searched her eyes, as if trying to gauge her sincerity, until at last he relented. Then he averted his gaze, licking at his lips as he tried to find the right words.

"I can't always prioritize you. We often might not have time for each other until nighttime, after the twins have gone to sleep."

"That's okay," she said.

"I might not always be completely there, either. There are times it might get to be too much for me."

"That's okay," she said.

"And besides, you have work, too. Our schedules won't always align. I might not even see you some mornings."

"Kaito," she said, recognizing that he was spiraling and cutting him off before he could, "I want you—all of you, just as you are."

For a moment he didn't respond, too overcome with emotion to speak. Then, slowly, he bowed his head. "Okay," he said. "That's...okay."

Meiko thought back to the first time they had met. He had ducked his head then, too. And when she had seen him from across the yard in the mornings, and when she had learned of his incorrigible sweet tooth, and then later when Rin had revealed the truth of his feelings for her—each time he had bowed his head, as if trying to avoid her gaze.

"So shy," she said, catching the ends of her fingers beneath the suture of his jaw and tipping his chin back just a fraction to meet his gaze. "Like you have something to be ashamed of, or perhaps something to hide. But I don't mind you as you are. I like you well enough despite your flaws. You wouldn't be you without them, after all."

His eyes were wide and so, so blue, and with a soft exhale she leaned in, burying her face against his shoulder, turning her head so that her nose slotted into the hollow of his throat.

"I like you, Kaito," she whispered into the crook of his neck, drunk on the sheer vulnerability he allowed himself in front of her and all but dizzy with it. And she said it again and again, like a mantra, as many times as he needed to hear it.

"Meiko," he said, voice impossibly quiet, "are you sure?"

"Let me love you," she said in place of a response. "Let me care about you." And she kissed him—slowly, slowly.

He made a quiet, strangled noise, and she nearly pulled away as he stiffened, the tense line of his posture drawing in almost like a sheet, thin and taut from tension and brittle and so unimaginably fragile—and then at last, like glass, he shattered.

With a hushed sense of reverence, he moved, shifting so he could wrap his arms around her form, settling against her like ten years' worth of weight had been at last lifted from his shoulders, clinging to her with the desperation of a dying man, and finally, she relaxed, heady with an overwhelming sense of relief.

For a few moments, she allowed herself the quiet indulgence of leaning into his arms. This close, he smelled of sugar and batter and chocolate, and it felt like home. His warmth surrounded her, weaving itself around her arms and shoulders and waist, so gentle and electric and impossibly tender that she ached down to her very core. Unbidden, her heart thudded against her chest. She thought that surely he must be able to feel it from where it was trapped in between them, but she found that after all the emotional turmoil of the past week, she couldn't quite bring herself to care.

They were going to be okay.

Kaito cleared his throat, as if he had something on his mind, and she felt the rumble in his chest through where the palms of her hands rested against the hard planes of his shoulderblades. She looked up quizzically. "I...I like you, too. Did I mention that?" he blurted out. And then, as if unable to stop himself, he added, "You're a good friend to me, Meiko. You're warm. And energetic, and earnest, and a touch awkward at times, but I find it charming. I like the sound of your voice, and the way you laugh, and how you interact with the twins, which makes me so happy to see. And—"

"Shh." Gently, Meiko shushed him, rubbing her hand against the slope of his back. Her face felt oddly hot from his words, but she couldn't help the smile from being tugged out of her. "It's okay, Kaito. You don't have to say it. I already know."

He cut himself off, then eased into her hold once more. For a few moments, she counted out the steady sound of her own breathing, and the way Kaito's evened out as his adrenaline deserted him. Finally, he spoke. "Your garden," he suggested, "let's plant it together. We can pick out all the flowers and vegetables that you like. I can dig the holes and water the plots and you can plant your seeds wherever you please, and we can take turns pulling the weeds and divide that task up between us because I wouldnt want either of our hands to become sore in the process."

"We can carpool to work together," Meiko said with a near-hysterical laugh. "We can sit in that godforsaken eight AM traffic moving three miles an hour and be slowly killing our car engine in the process and I'll still be happy, because I'm with you."

"Because I'm with you," he echoed, eyes shining with some undecipherable emotion.

They shared a laugh at that, and she felt the tension ebb away, and still clutching one another they stumbled onto the couch, their bodies all but spilling over it.

She looked over to meet his gaze. "So tell me about your week, mister," she prompted, breaking into a grin that split her face from ear to ear. "Anything interesting happen? How was work? What were Rin and Len up to? I want to hear everything."

"Everything?" He blinked, pleasantly surprised at her interest, but then he smiled too. "Well, you see..."

And so February continued, and life moved on. Meiko was giddy with the changes the new month had brought, and more and more often she found herself over at Kaito's house, teasing Kaito alongside his children and helping him with his baking and then brushing the flour from his hair afterwards. It became a part of her new routine to take turns walking the twins to the bus stop and then squabble with Kaito over which songs to play on the car radio.

For their part, Rin and Len were thrilled by the change. When she and Kaito broke the news to them, they exchanged knowing glances but didn't comment further, content as they were to leave them to their own devices now that they had settled their differences and talked out their conflict.

Luka was also unbearably smug at the news, but in a rare show of genuine emotion she congratulated her on the change. Meiko hadn't quite known how to reply, but she thanked her nonetheless. And somehow, Miku had gotten ahold of her phone number—Meiko suspected she may have bullied it out of Kaito—and she expressed her excitement and amazement that Meiko had managed to get through her thickheaded oaf of a brother, before subtly swearing retribution should she ever misstep. "All in jest, of course," Miku tacked onto the end with a giggle, and Meiko wasn't sure if she should feel intimidated or not.

She and Kaito were still very much in the trial stage of their relationship, with the understanding that anything long-term would be contingent on agreement from the twins. Before that, though, there was one last thing left to clear up, and once again Meiko took the initiative.

So she approached Rin and Len one Saturday evening while Kaito was still occupied in the kitchen. "Hey—I'm sorry for almost ruining your birthday party," she said, crouching down to look them in the eye.

The twins paused. Then, slowly, Rin lowered her gaze, leaving Len to glance back and forth between the two of them as though he wanted to say something.

"I'm sorry, too. For almost ruining things for you and Dad, I mean," Rin finally replied, looking equally uncomfortable.

They fell silent, neither of them knowing quite what to say. Beside them, Len hesitated. "But in the end," he pointed out, voice growing in volume as he spoke, "neither of you ruined anything, right? We still had an okay party, and you and Dad worked things out—so isn't it kind of like Dad always says? All's well that ends well?"

Meiko froze, caught off guard by Len's unexpected wisdom. Slowly, she met Rin's eyes, and as if it was being tugged out from her, Meiko felt her lips quirking upwards. Tentatively, Rin returned her smile.

"All's well that ends well," Meiko echoed quietly.

"I'm glad they did," Rin added, and internally Meiko had to agree—she was very, very glad indeed.

It took a while for Rin to return to her usual cheerful self, as if she was afraid of overstepping and making another dreadful mistake. In the meantime, Kaito was unfailingly patient, telling Meiko that so long as she made herself available and expressed that she wasn't going anywhere, Rin would reciprocate sooner or later. Eventually, she came around.

As it turned out, Rin enjoyed Meiko's presence as part of their family, and she would sometimes insist on the two of them going out without the boys to spend time together. Occasionally, Rin would let her brother tag along, too, claiming it was because they were twins and so Len held special privileges, but Meiko suspected she genuinely enjoyed and was used to his company but refused to admit it outright. And Kaito privately confided in her that he was grateful Meiko was able to fill a role he himself was incapable of, and Meiko in turn was glad Kaito no longer felt so strong an urge to shoulder every responsibility by himself.

The twins' soccer team made it all the way to their district finals, and this time, she and Kaito accompanied them together. Meiko read up extensively on the rules of the sport beforehand and as a result was much better prepared than she had been for her first soccer match, to Kaito's poorly-hidden amusement. The game was easier for her to follow than the last one, and Meiko cheered along unabashedly, shouting Rin and Len's names and clapping each time their team scored. Next to her, Kaito much more reserved in his reactions, but his feelings showed plainly on his face and it was clear from them that he was just as invested as she was.

Though Rin and Len played well, the opposing team was ruthlessly well-coached, resulting in a narrow loss, and the twins' team took second in the district. The two of them were disappointed, but satisfied and proud of how well they had performed the entire season and to have gotten so far in the bracket. It helped that Meiko and Kaito were nothing but encouraging, neither of them bothered by the loss and more concerned with the fact that Rin and Len had fun playing.

She and Kaito took the twins out to a pizza place for as much as they could possibly eat, where she learned of Kaito's personal stance on pineapple pizza (he didn't mind it, but also he would eat anything the twins wanted to) and weighed in herself (she thought it was too sweet and that more savory flavors were better suited to be pizza toppings). At one point, she glanced up to find Kaito gazing back at her with what seemed like a faint sense of awe, and she paused.

"What are you looking at?" she asked, a teasing note in her voice.

He started, as if pulled from his thoughts. Then his expression settled, and he smiled, the outline of his hair tinged faintly gold from the warm lighting of the pizza parlor. "Nothing," he said. "Just, sometimes I can't quite believe you're actually here, with me."

Meiko blinked, surprised. A grin overtook her features, and she reached across the table for his hand, tangling her fingers with his. "Well, you had better believe it," she said, "because I'd like to think I'm here to stay." He stared at her with such wonder in his eyes that it almost made her want to duck her head away in uncharacteristic bashfulness.

And then Rin and Len made a show of groaning and rolling their eyes at the display, and chastised, they returned to their pizza, but not before sharing a private laugh between themselves.

Valentine's Day came and went, and she and Kaito had their first proper date. Having only recently formalized their relationship, they didn't make it in time to place reservations before the restaurants near them were booked, but they made a nice homecooked meal together that they shared alongside the twins, and then Kaito took her to the city outskirts for stargazing—though he himself admitted he knew nothing of the night sky—and it was romantic all the same.

They chose to celebrate Kaito's birthday during the same week. Meiko and the twins conspired to bake an ice cream cake for him, but it ended in disaster, and all the ice cream melted before they could even use it. Rin still tried to lick the sticky remains right off the table, much to Meiko's dismay, but she managed to stop her before the girl gave herself a stomachache. That certainly would have ruined Kaito's birthday night for everyone involved.

And so, they ended up settling for a store-bought cake instead. Kaito laughed good-naturedly when they recounted the story of their failed attempt at baking a cake, and Meiko gave him a playfully indignant kick under the table for that.

Still, he seemed touched by the gesture. "Thank you," he said, eyes shining with some odd emotion.

Once dinner was eaten and the leftover cake stored away in the refrigerator, they presented him with a card. They had each drawn a likeness of themselves on the front, and on the interior they had written a short message and signed their names.

Thank you, Meiko had written. I'm grateful you've always been such a good neighbor to me. I'm glad we met, Kaito.

Kaito made some snarky comment about Meiko's art skills—or rather, lack thereof—which earned him a gentle nudge in the ribs. But that aside, he seemed delighted, and he propped the card up in his entryway table next to where Meiko had recently moved hers that she had received back in November. Their cards stood proudly together, facing the door and beckoning any potential visitors to gaze upon them.

Before she knew it, the final days of February arrived, preceding the end of what had been a very long winter indeed. The last snow came and went, and she and Kaito nearly threw out their backs trying to shovel the driveway as Rin and Len dashed back and forth and pelted snowballs at them, much to Kaito's chagrin and Meiko's good-natured amusement. Then the sun came out and melted away all the snow, and the blades of grass underneath peeked out once more, fresh and pale green and renewed from a cold winter spent dormant beneath the earth.

And after everything, Meiko thought—after all the uncertainty and the conflict and the emotional distress of the past few months—she could say with confidence that she was content. Kaito smiled as he never had before, and Rin and Len were as exuberant as ever. And together, the four of them had redefined this small thing called family—this place Meiko now called home.

The air grew warmer and warmer still, and the days grew ever-longer. It was no longer pitch-black when she made the trip over to Kaito's house on Saturday evenings, and sometimes afterwards when it grew late she would stay the night.

Meiko awoke early one morning, carefully disentangled herself from Kaito's hold, and rose to peer out the window. A bird flew by, and she tracked it with her eyes.

To her delight, along the edges of the walkway connecting his home to hers the seeds she had planted with Kaito had begun to sprout, their delicate leaves quivering but resolute in the face of the unyielding sun. She imagined what sorts of flowers they might bloom into, and she realized she didn't quite know, so she watched for a little longer, and thought of the past and of the future, and anticipated the inevitable coming of spring.

Chapter Text

Slowly, Meiko awoke.

The sunlight felt warm on her face, and she squinted against the light as her eyes opened. It was far too bright for comfort. To her dismay, Kaito's bedroom faced east just as hers did, which meant she more often than not found herself being rudely awakened in the mornings.

But in the grand scheme of things, it was a minor inconvenience, really.

She breathed in. The air was tinged with the flavor of high summer, and it tasted sweet on her tongue. Her gaze flickered towards the window, where outside blooming flowers of every shade soaked in the gentle light of the morning sun. And with a start, Meiko realized it had been well over half a year since Kaito and Rin and Len and all the wonderful and new things that accompanied them had come into her life.

Speaking of which...

She raised her head from the pillow to peer at where Kaito remained fast asleep beside her. He looked so peaceful in sleep, his face smoothed out and unshadowed from the stress and nervous energy that seemed to follow him so pervasively everywhere. Small puffs of breath escaped from between his lips as his eyelashes fluttered and caught on the light, and without realizing it her expression softened.

Loving Kaito was a joy and a privilege all at once. It had been several months since they had formed this new and wonderful relationship between them, and still she was delighted to discover new things about him—how he would hold her tightly to his side with one arm in his sleep, as though wanting to keep her safe—how he would bring his car to a complete halt at each and every stop sign out of an abundance of caution (much to Meiko's chagrin)—how he was a stickler for keeping shoes organized by the doorway because, he claimed, it prevented any mix-ups between the twins when they were in a rush to leave in the mornings.

Over time, she had grown closer to understanding him in his entirety, and she found herself falling more and more in love.

On a whim, Meiko reached out to trace the lines of his face with a lazy finger, her touch lingering on the faint furrow between his eyebrows. He didn't stir.

Usually he would be the first to wake, but since she had started staying over with him he had been sleeping in later—no, he was for once able to sleep in later, she corrected herself. And on the rare occasions she would rouse before him, she would wake him up with a kiss.

She saw no reason to break with tradition now. Carefully, she rotated her body and propped herself up on one elbow, ignoring the protests from her shoulder and taking a moment to adjust to the stiffness in her neck, before leaning down to press her lips lazily to his. He made a small noise of confusion at the contact, and then, predictably, he laughed against her mouth as he returned to wakefulness, his clear blue eyes complementing the morning sky.

He was so very soft around the edges in the morning light, and she wanted to share in his warmth just like this, each and every morning until she could no longer count the months that had gone by. If by being at his side she could alleviate his burden, even if only a little, and if he could ease her loneliness in return, then she would be happy.

At last, she pulled back, and he snaked one arm around her shoulders even as she tried in vain to squirm away. It was futile to resist, and so with an exaggerated huff Meiko collapsed against his chest. Kaito's eyes met hers, almost boyish in their amusement, and the two of them shared a laugh as she reached up to tangle their fingers tenderly together.

She was so unspeakably lucky.

In another several minutes they would rise to start the day. They would dress themselves, and Meiko would go and wake the twins as Kaito started on breakfast, and then they would all eat together as Rin and Len chattered about their friends and video games and television shows that Meiko would never be able to understand. Today was Kaito's turn to make breakfast, which meant it was Meiko's turn to drive, and the four of them would pile into the car and argue over which songs to put on the radio even though there was no real heat behind it, and they would drop Rin and Len off at summer camp, and then maybe if they felt so inclined she and Kaito might even discuss their plans for their relationship in the car.

But personally, Meiko hoped things would continue just the way they had. It was as though she had for all her life been holding on to half a heart, searching and waiting for the other half, and at last she had found its holder. Kaito was always so kind, and Rin was brilliant, and Len was the sweetest boy she had met, and thinking back, she had waited over thirty years to find people quite like them.

Time slipped noiselessly through her fingers. Soon the seasons would shift again, and once more it would be autumn. And, Meiko found, this time she welcomed the change. She had learned to embrace the unfamiliar and the unexpected. And with Kaito and the twins beside her and all the other people she had grown to care about in the several decades of her life, she found that for once, she didn't quite mind waiting for the future.