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"From now on, whenever I have curry, I’ll think of you, Gorou-san," she laughs, breathing a small cloud of warmth into the cold air.
A bitter, sharp ache streaks Gorou abruptly. "Why do I wish you were thinking about me more often than that?" he wonders and a sad smile curves his lips.
Before Fumi notices, he turns it into a grin. "Gosh, I’m honoured," he replies.
She laughs again and a small eyelash falls on her cheek.
Without thinking, Gorou gets closer to Fumi and brushes his fingers against her face.
"An eyelash," he whispers.
Fumi stares at him for a moment, her eyes wide with surprise, cheeks flushed, murmuring her thanks with an awkward laugh.
Gorou chuckles at her confusion.
Her eyelash is still between his fingers.
Her nervous smile fades, and she averts her eyes, getting conscious of their intimacy — he is standing so close, she can feel the warmth of his body and a faint scent of his perfume.
Suddenly Gorou recalls that one time he playfully kissed her on the cheek. The way his lips pressed against her soft skin and how her face had instantly turned hot from blushing — the memory lingers in his mind like a ghost; it seems like years since that moment.
Back then, he believed that all of this — all the attention to Fumi, all the fooling around, all the flirting — was for Akatsuki’s sake. Gorou was just trying to make Akatsuki realise his feelings for the girl — that’s all it was, right?
"Who am I doing this for now?" he asks himself.
And a painful realisation that he might already know the answer creeps onto him.
"Words aren’t worth much, but when I’m with you, my cup of happiness overflows," he told her — just an hour before.
Why did he say that? Was he simply being a good friend, trying to make her feel better? Or was it for his own amusement, to see her blushing again? He is long past the denial that there is nothing he would enjoy more.
Or maybe it was a moment of weakness — a breach in his armour of playfulness and lightheartedness.
Maybe it was all of it.
He touches her cheek with the back of his hand again, knowing there is no plausible excuse this time, but still not being able to stop himself.
She looks up at him, startled, and Gorou catches himself looking at her mouth, his palm caressing her cheek.
"What am I doing?" a thought dashes through his head.
Fumi whispers his name, probably having the same question on her mind, but before she can finish, he leans closer and touches her lips with his own.
"She smells of spices and naan," Gorou thinks absentmindedly, and a warm, sweet, honey-like feeling fills the void inside him he never knew existed.
The kiss lasts only a few moments.
He pulls back slowly, reluctant to let her go, hating the empty space growing between them. With his eyes closed, Gorou takes a deep breath to calm himself — too scared to look at her now, too scared of seeing anger or, worse, resentment.
When he finally glances at Fumi, she is looking down, her fingers brushing against her lips. She is quiet — too quiet — and Gorou, probably for the first time since they met, struggles to understand her feelings.
She looks hesitant, confused, and flustered, but not resentful, and that feels like a small victory for him.
She looks back into his eyes, breathes in as if gathering her strength, preparing for something, and he suddenly realises what is going to happen.
"Gorou-san…" she starts, soft and quiet. “You know… I love—"
"Don’t," he interrupts her, his voice slightly trembling. "I know, Fumi-chan. It’s okay."
Gorou smiles weakly and takes a step back. "I know this doesn’t change anything. But…" He pauses before blurting out the truth. "I needed this. Just once. For me."
Fumi bites her lower lip, searching for words, not finding any. Her blush deepens somehow.
"Let’s get back home," he says quietly and smiles at her.
Fumi nods, her gaze once again falling to the ground.
The kiss hangs between them, and though nothing has truly changed, everything feels different.