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moving into the dorms was a mistake. naoi already thought that, but she knew it the moment she stepped into the shared space, eyes landing on a neat stack of boxes by the couch and a pristine row of shoes lined up by the door. everything about it screamed 'good girl.' her new roommate had already unpacked and organized her shit while naoi barely had the energy to drag her own luggage inside.
she sighed, rubbing her temple before kicking her beaten-up shoes off and heading towards her designated room.
she wasn’t expecting the door to the other room to creak open just as she reached for her own handle. she turned her head slightly, barely glancing at the girl stepping out. it wasn’t until she heard a sharp inhale that she really looked.
kurumi yoshizawa.
her new roommate was kurumi yoshizawa.
naoi felt something heavy settle in her gut. it wasn’t that she knew kurumi personally—more like, she knew of her. the perfect student, the polite, well-mannered, honor-roll darling. the type that professors fawned over and classmates whispered about.
the type naoi immediately knew she would not be getting along with.
kurumi’s composed expression barely wavered, but naoi caught the microsecond of hesitation in her eyes; the slight downturn of her lips.
she wasn’t happy about this either. shocker.
"i didn’t know you were my roommate," kurumi finally said, voice polite but remaining tight.
"yeah, well, i didn’t either," naoi replied flatly, fingers tightening around the strap of her bag. she had already decided she hated this arrangement, no need to pretend otherwise.
kurumi exhaled through her nose. "as long as we respect each other’s space, this should be fine."
naoi narrowed her eyes. "yeah, yeah, same here, yoshizawa-san."
kurumi’s brows twitched at the honorific. naoi knew her type—the kind who insisted people didn’t need to be formal but would secretly seethe if someone treated them too casually. naoi didn’t care either way. she just wanted to be left alone.
she turned away, shoving her door open and stepping inside before kurumi could say anything else. she dropped her bag by the bed and flopped onto the mattress, exhaling sharply.
this was going to suck.
the first week was tense. they barely spoke, interactions reduced to curt nods in passing. naoi ignored kurumi's meticulously labeled shelves in the fridge, and kurumi ignored the way naoi left her shoes in a haphazard mess by the door. they lived like strangers, tolerating each other's existence but never actually engaging.
maybe it was meant to be this way—meant to remain this way.
it was fine. this was technically how naoi liked it, anyway.
until one night, when she stumbled into the dorm late, headache pounding, and saw kurumi sitting on the couch, textbooks spread across the coffee table. she barely looked up, but something about her presence—so effortlessly put-together—made naoi irrationally pissed off.
"do you ever sleep?" naoi muttered, dropping onto the opposite end of the couch.
kurumi finally glanced at her, gaze sharp. "do you?"
naoi huffed a laugh, leaning back. "not if i can help it."
kurumi didn't respond right away. she looked at naoi for a beat longer before returning to her notes, her expression unreadable.
it wasn’t much, but it was the longest interaction they had since moving in.
maybe this arrangement would suck less than she thought.
maybe.
naoi had quickly learned that sharing a dorm with kurumi fucking yoshizawa was a special kind of hell.
it wasn’t that she was loud or messy—if anything, she was the complete contrary and irritatingly put together. too clean. too organized; too meticulous about the smallest, dumbest things.
she wiped the counters down at least twice a day, rearranged the shoes by the door whenever they shifted out of place, and labeled everything in the fridge with passive-aggressive sticky notes.
“naoi-san, don’t touch my yogurt. i’m being serious.”
first of all, it wasn’t even good yogurt. naoi already knew that from having a taste, but kurumi didn’t need to know that.
but the worst part? kurumi acted like she was above it all. like she wasn’t fazed by naoi’s existence in the slightest, even when they bickered. naoi had tried pushing her buttons—leaving dishes in the sink, kicking off her shoes in the middle of the floor, draping her blazer over the back of the couch instead of folding it neatly away. yet, kurumi barely reacted beyond a sigh and a muttered complaint.
it pissed her off.
so, naoi found new ways to get under her skin.
like now, she was sprawled out on the shared couch, flipping through her phone with the volume obnoxiously high. the tinny sound of a random video echoed in the small space, and naoi knew kurumi could hear it from the kitchen. she could picture her standing there, jaw tight, hands curled slightly where they rested on the counter.
“could you turn that down?” kurumi’s voice finally cut through the noise.
“hm?” naoi glanced over, pretending not to hear.
kurumi exhaled sharply, wiping her hands on a dish towel before stepping into view. “your phone,” she said, slower, like she was talking to a child. “turn it down.”
“nah, i’m good.”
kurumi stared at her, eyes narrowing slightly.
naoi just smirked, stretching out even further. “problem, yoshizawa-san?”
“only that you’re insufferable.”
“aw, c’mon, you say that like you don’t secretly love my company.”
kurumi scoffed, turning away, and naoi could just barely catch the way she clenched her jaw before she walked off toward her room. the door clicked shut a little harder than usual.
victory.
naoi slammed the cabinet shut harder than necessary, the dull thud echoing through the dorm’s small kitchen. she could feel kurumi’s eyes on her, but refused to acknowledge them. instead, she focused on the coffee machine, the hiss of brewing drowning out the tension that had settled thick between them.
kurumi, leaning against the counter with arms crossed, let out a slow sigh. “you could at least try not to act like a complete menace.”
naoi let out a humorless laugh, stirring her coffee with deliberate slowness. “menace? that’s rich coming from you of all people. you act like you own the place.”
kurumi straightened, her lips pressing into a thin line. “we share this dorm, naoi. it’s not just yours.”
oh. no more honorific. that works.
“you sure about that?” naoi turned to face her now, a mocking tilt to her head. “you certainly like to act like you’re the most authority over everything. ‘oh, we can’t put dishes in the sink overnight.’ ‘oh, shoes need to be neatly lined up by the door.’ god forbid we live like normal college students.”
kurumi’s expression flickered, just for a second. but it was enough for naoi to see something behind the irritation—exhaustion, maybe. or something more fragile. it should’ve satisfied her, knowing she got under kurumi’s skin, but somehow, it didn’t.
“whatever,” kurumi muttered, brushing past naoi to grab a cup for herself. their shoulders bumped, the contact brief but charged.
naoi leaned against the counter, watching as kurumi poured herself tea instead of coffee. the silence stretched between them, tense but oddly familiar. “you could at least pretend to like me,” naoi muttered after a moment, voice quieter than before.
kurumi didn’t respond right away. she stared into her cup, as if the swirling steam held the answer to some unspoken question. then, finally, she exhaled and turned slightly toward naoi. “do you even like yourself?”
naoi blinked. for once, she had no immediate response.
kurumi didn’t wait for one. she picked up her cup and walked away, leaving naoi standing there, still holding her own coffee, suddenly aware of just how bitter it was.
naoi barely had time to react before the door to the dorm swung open, revealing kurumi standing there with a scowl. her arms were crossed, foot tapping against the floor like she had been waiting for this exact moment to unleash her irritation.
"you're seriously unbelievable," kurumi muttered, stepping inside and shutting the door behind her with more force than necessary. "do you even know what time it is?"
naoi, who had just been in the middle of throwing herself onto the couch, barely spared her a glance. "nope. don’t care, either."
kurumi let out an exaggerated sigh, walking past her to the kitchen. "of course you don’t. typical."
naoi turned her head slightly to watch as kurumi yanked open the fridge, muttering something under her breath. naoi smirked. "what’s your problem now? is it the dishes? i told you, i’ll get to them eventually."
kurumi let out a humorless laugh, retrieving a bottle of water and shutting the fridge. "you said that four days ago. i’m starting to think ‘eventually’ means ‘never’ in your dictionary."
naoi stretched out on the couch, completely unbothered. "if it bothers you so much, just do them yourself."
kurumi shot her a glare. "you’re insufferable."
"and you’re predictable," naoi shot back with a smirk. "if it’s not the dishes, it’s always something else. why don’t you admit you just like arguing with me?"
kurumi scoffed. "as if. arguing with you is like talking to a brick wall. but unfortunately, you’re the brick wall i have to live with."
naoi didn’t respond right away. instead, she studied kurumi carefully, noting the tension in her shoulders, the exhaustion lining her face.
she looked like she had a long day.
"rough day?" naoi asked, feigning indifference.
kurumi blinked, clearly caught off guard. "what?"
"i said, did you have a rough day?" naoi repeated, her tone a little softer, though still laced with amusement.
kurumi hesitated before shaking her head. "not that it’s any of your business."
naoi hummed. "well, if it makes you feel any better, my day was awful, too."
kurumi rolled her eyes. "you probably just overslept and missed class again."
naoi smirked. "and yet, that was still the best part of my day."
kurumi sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "i don’t know why i even bother."
naoi shrugged, propping herself up on her elbows. "because you just love complaining about me. admit it, yoshizawa-san, i make your life interesting."
kurumi narrowed her eyes. "you mean unbearable."
naoi simply grinned. for all of kurumi’s complaints, she never actually made an effort to avoid her. that had to count for something, right?
silence settled between them, the usual tension lingering but less suffocating than before. despite their constant bickering, there was an odd comfort in their routine. neither of them would ever admit it, but maybe, just maybe, they didn’t completely hate this arrangement after all.
naoi didn’t like the way kurumi started showing up in her space more often. it was nothing overt, nothing she could complain about outright, but it was happening.
subtle, creeping things—kurumi sitting on the couch instead of retreating to her room, lingering in the kitchen while naoi made coffee, making small talk where there was once silence.
and now, here she was, standing in the doorway of naoi's room, watching her with her arms crossed. "are you ever going to clean this up?" kurumi asked, nodding toward the disaster that was naoi's desk. papers, empty cups, and various bits of her belongings scattered in a way that only she herself could understand.
"i know where everything is," naoi shot back, barely looking up from her laptop.
kurumi hummed in disapproval. "uh-huh. and if i move something, you wouldn’t freak out?"
"don’t test me," naoi muttered, tapping at her keyboard with more force than necessary.
kurumi sighed, stepping further inside, arms dropping to her sides. "you’re impossible."
"so you've said."
there was a beat of silence. naoi expected her to leave, to shake her head and retreat, but instead, kurumi sat down on the edge of naoi's bed, fingers trailing absently over the sheets.
the casual intimacy of the action made something in naoi tense up.
"why are you still here?" naoi finally asked, narrowing her eyes.
kurumi shrugged. "i don't know. you're just... easier to be around lately."
naoi clicked her tongue, feigning irritation. "that sounds a whole lot like a you problem."
kurumi huffed. "yeah, maybe it is."
for once, naoi had no immediate comeback. she glanced over at kurumi—at the way she leaned back slightly, her gaze soft in a way that unnerved her more than any argument they had ever shared.
this was new.
no, this was dangerous.
"fine," naoi muttered, standing up abruptly. "if it bothers you so much, i’ll clean it up."
kurumi smiled smally, and for some reason, it didn’t irritate naoi in the way she thought it would. if anything, it made her want to look away before she gave that thought away.
but she didn’t. instead, she sighed and rolled her eyes, but there was no real malice behind it. "just don’t get used to this."
kurumi only grinned. "no promises."
naoi hadn’t meant to get used to the sound of another presence in the dorm.
at first, she’d done her best to ignore it—kurumi’s careful footsteps, the soft clink of dishes in the sink, the faint shuffle of pages turning when she studied late at night. but as the weeks stretched on, she found herself unconsciously waiting for them.
the silence when kurumi wasn’t around felt heavier now, as if something was missing.
she didn’t know when it started, but suddenly, kurumi was everywhere. in the kitchen, making tea and wordlessly sliding a mug toward naoi, on the couch, stretched out with a book while naoi scrolled on her phone; in the bathroom mirror, tying her hair back while naoi brushed her teeth beside her.
and then there were the moments where their routine bled into something softer, like tonight.
it was raining, the heavy kind that blanketed the city in a low hum, making everything feel slower, more intimate. kurumi was sitting on the couch, a throw blanket wrapped around her shoulders, legs tucked underneath her. she was half-watching something on her laptop, half-reading through notes spread across the coffee table.
naoi, perched sideways in the armchair, found herself watching her instead.
“what?” kurumi glanced up, blinking at her.
“... nothing.” naoi looked away, irritated with herself for getting caught to begin with.
kurumi hummed, unconvinced, but didn’t push. instead, she shifted slightly, tilting her laptop screen toward naoi.
“if you’re bored, you can watch with me.”
naoi hesitated, then sighed, pushing herself up and onto the couch. she sat stiffly at first, but the warmth of the blanket draped over kurumi’s lap was too inviting. with a grumble, she tugged at it, and kurumi rolled her eyes before unfolding it to cover them both.
for a while, neither of them spoke. the rain continued to patter against the windows; the screen flickered dimly, and kurumi shifted closer, barely noticeable.
naoi wasn’t sure when she stopped focusing on the show and started focusing on the steady rise and fall of kurumi’s breathing beside her, but she didn’t mind it as much as she thought she would.
long—the day had been long, far too long, and by the time they were both in their dorm, the weight of exhaustion was pressing down on them.
naoi had collapsed onto the couch the second they stepped inside, one arm slung over her face as she groaned something about her head killing her. kurumi, in a rare moment of unspoken truce, simply exhaled and dropped her bag by the door, heading to the kitchen to grab some water.
by the time she came back, naoi hadn’t moved. not really. she peeked through her fingers when kurumi nudged her, pushing the glass against her hand.
"here," kurumi said simply.
naoi made a half-hearted attempt at sitting up, taking a small sip before sighing dramatically. "i might actually die."
kurumi rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. "you’re not dying. just… tired."
"same thing," naoi muttered.
she didn’t push further. instead, a comfortable silence settled between them, the quiet hum of the apartment filling the space. naoi was too drained to be her usual self, and kurumi, well—
kurumi was watching her. not obviously. not in a way that would make naoi snap something sarcastic. just… watching.
it was strange seeing naoi like this—quiet, lax, stripped of her usual sharp edges. her expression was softer when she wasn’t speaking, her lashes resting against her cheeks, her breathing slow and even.
"you should go to bed," kurumi eventually said, breaking the silence.
naoi cracked an eye open. "too far. i’ll just sleep here."
"don’t be dumb. you’ll wake up sore."
"i’ll be fine."
kurumi hesitated. a part of her wanted to just let her stay there, to avoid whatever this was turning into, but—
she sighed, running a hand through her hair before muttering, "you can just sleep in my bed."
naoi blinked at her. "what?"
"just for tonight. you look half-dead, and you’re obviously not gonna get up on your own."
naoi stared, trying to gauge if kurumi was messing with her, but there was no teasing in her expression. just something steady. something final.
"... fine," she muttered, hauling herself off the couch.
kurumi’s bed was neat, untouched for the most part. naoi sat down hesitantly, as if testing the waters, before lying back with a sigh.
kurumi flicked off the lights before slipping in on the other side. they weren’t touching, not even close, but naoi could feel her presence beside her; could hear her slow breathing in the quiet.
it was strangely… nice.
she turned her head slightly, gaze catching on the faint outline of kurumi in the dark.
"yoshizawa-san."
kurumi hummed.
"don’t get used to this."
kurumi let out a quiet snort, her voice barely above a whisper. "i was about to say the same thing."
but neither of them moved, and neither of them pulled away.
the dynamic between them had shifted, subtly but undeniably. the air between them wasn’t as sharp, wasn’t as suffocating. naoi wasn’t sure when exactly it started, but it was undeniable now—something, regardless of what it was, had changed.
she noticed it in the way kurumi didn’t glare at her as much—the way her insults lacked the usual bite, how they spent more time in the same room without wanting to kill each other. she noticed it in the way kurumi had started saying her name instead of just ‘you.’ and the worst part?
naoi wasn’t sure if she loved or hated it.
she was aware of it now, aware of every time kurumi was close. her presence was something tangible, something that pressed against her skin. it was ridiculous—naoi never cared for things like this; she never cared about the way someone walked past her, the way they stood too close, the way their hand brushed against hers when reaching for the same cup.
but she cared now.
one evening, she found herself back on the couch, sprawled out, lazily flipping through her phone as per usual. kurumi was at the kitchen counter, pouring herself some tea. the room was quiet, save for the occasional clinking of porcelain. naoi stretched her arms above her head, sighing dramatically. “you’re getting awfully comfortable around me, yoshizawa-san.”
kurumi didn’t even glance her way. “shouldn’t i be? we live together.”
naoi hummed, pretending to think. “i guess. but it’s weird, isn’t it?”
“what is?”
“you don’t hate me anymore.”
that got a reaction. kurumi finally turned her head, brows furrowing slightly, as if she was about to deny it. but then she hesitated, as if realizing it herself for the first time. “... maybe,” she admitted.
naoi grinned. “aww, yoshizawa-san. is this the part where you say we’re friends?”
kurumi scoffed, setting her cup down with a soft clink. “don’t push it.” but there was no real malice in her voice, and that was the most telling thing of all.
that night, naoi found herself restless. it wasn’t unusual—she was used to nights spent staring at the ceiling, mind racing, thoughts spiraling. but this time, there was only one thing occupying her mind.
kurumi.
she rolled onto her side, frustrated. it was annoying. it was frustrating. it was—
ugh.
naoi didn't know why she was still awake.
it was well past midnight, the dorm silent except for the faint hum of the fridge in the kitchen and the occasional creak of the walls settling. her room, dark except for the weak glow of the moon seeping through the blinds, was unusually cold.
she didn’t mind sleeping in the cold, but this was borderline freezing. she'd tossed and turned for what felt like hours, her blanket doing little to ward off the chill biting at her skin.
with a sigh, she sat up. she hesitated before slipping out of bed, rubbing her arms for warmth as she shuffled into the hallway. her feet barely made a sound against the floor as she stood outside kurumi’s door.
she wasn’t sure what she was doing. she wasn’t even sure why she knocked, either.
she expected silence. instead, there was a quiet shuffling, then the door cracked open, revealing kurumi in an oversized shirt that barely covered her thighs, her hair slightly tousled from sleep. she blinked at naoi, groggy but alert.
"... you told me not to get used to this." her voice was soft, still laced with sleep.
naoi shifted her weight, suddenly feeling ridiculous. "my room’s freezing," she muttered, glancing away.
kurumi sighed, stepping aside. "fine. just don’t steal my blanket."
naoi didn’t hesitate to slip inside, rubbing her arms as she made her way to the bed. kurumi’s room was warmer, the air tinged with the faint scent of chamomile tea and matcha. the bed looked inviting—more inviting than her own ever did.
kurumi slid back under the covers first, watching as naoi hesitated by the edge. she arched a brow. "are you getting in or not?"
naoi scoffed but climbed in, careful to stay on her side. the warmth was instant, sinking into her bones and making her realize just how cold she’d been. she exhaled slowly, closing her eyes for a moment.
"you're kind of weird," kurumi murmured.
naoi cracked an eye open. "you're the one letting me in your bed."
kurumi huffed but didn't argue.
silence settled between them, thick and oddly comfortable. naoi could hear kurumi’s breathing, steady and even, the slight rustle of the sheets as she shifted. the warmth of their shared space made naoi’s eyelids heavy, but she didn’t want to sleep just yet.
she didn’t understand why, but she liked this. being here—being like this.
she hesitated once more before shifting slightly, resting her head a little closer to kurumi’s shoulder. she expected some kind of complaint, but kurumi only sighed, barely reacting.
"goodnight, naoi."
naoi swallowed. her pulse felt too loud in her ears.
"... goodnight, yoshizawa-san."
sleep came easier than she had anticipated
naoi hadn't meant for it to happen.
she had woken up first. the room was dim, the early morning light filtering in through the blinds, casting soft shadows along the walls. she wasn't used to waking up next to someone, especially not kurumi.
but there she was, curled up beside her, her breathing even, her face serene in sleep.
naoi didn’t move at first. she just watched—the way kurumi’s bangs had fallen slightly over her forehead, the slow rise and fall of her chest, the faintest crease between her brows that hadn’t smoothed out even in sleep.
it was unfair, naoi thought absentmindedly, how someone could look so effortlessly pretty even while lacking consciousness.
then, in a lapse of better judgment, naoi reached out. just to fix her bangs. that was all; that was it. but as soon as her fingers grazed kurumi’s skin, her breath hitched, and before she could pull away, kurumi stirred.
bleary eyes met hers. for a moment, neither of them moved. then, with an almost comically slow realization, kurumi blinked fully awake. her cheeks turned a soft shade of pink.
"... you're staring, naoi."
naoi's lips twitched. "you're imagining things, yoshizawa-san."
kurumi frowned slightly, but instead of arguing, she merely sighed and stretched, the sleeve of her shirt slipping down slightly, exposing a sliver of bare skin near her shoulder.
naoi had to tear her gaze away.
"it's early," kurumi murmured, her voice laced with sleep. "why are you even awake?"
naoi shrugged, still playing off her own internal chaos. "habit."
kurumi hummed softly, then—surprisingly—she didn’t move away. instead, she shifted, resting her head against naoi’s shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.
naoi's body went rigid.
"... you're warm," kurumi muttered, eyes fluttering shut again. "just for a bit, okay?"
naoi swallowed. she could have teased her, could have made a smug remark about how kurumi must really be getting comfortable if she was being this shameless. but for once, she didn’t.
instead, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and— very cautiously —relaxed.
she didn’t dare move her arm, but if she had, she might’ve let it rest lightly against kurumi’s back. just for a bit.
just until she fell asleep again.
the air inside the dorm was thick and stagnated with unspoken thoughts.
naoi had been acting differently lately. more hesitant, as if she was teetering on the edge of something she couldn't name.
well, no, she could definitely name it. she just… didn’t really want to.
kurumi noticed, of course—she always did. she wasn't oblivious to the way naoi’s eyes lingered a little longer or how she hovered nearby without saying anything. she wasn’t blind to how their casual touches had begun to stretch just a second too long, how they no longer felt incidental.
but she didn’t say anything.
not yet.
instead, she let it build. let the weight of whatever it was settle between them, unaddressed but undeniable. she figured naoi would crack first, because that’s how things always went. naoi pushed and pulled, testing boundaries until she either got bored or got burned.
but this time, naoi wasn’t pushing. she was waiting.
it was on a quiet evening, when they were both sitting on the couch, that the tension finally broke. a movie played on the screen, something neither of them were paying attention to. kurumi had her legs tucked beneath her, a blanket draped loosely over her lap. naoi sat beside her, close but not touching.
until she did.
her fingers brushed against kurumi’s hand—light, tentative. kurumi stiffened for only a moment before relaxing, but she didn’t move away. naoi didn’t look at her, didn’t make some snarky comment to diffuse the moment. she just let their hands rest there, fingertips grazing, almost like she was waiting to see if kurumi would pull away.
kurumi didn’t.
instead, she turned her head slightly, catching the way naoi’s jaw was clenched; the way her fingers twitched as if she was debating whether to do something more. she looked unsure—an expression kurumi wasn’t used to seeing on her.
so she made the choice for her.
without a word, she shifted her hand, sliding her fingers between naoi’s, intertwining them slowly—deliberately. she felt naoi tense, her pulse a nervous, fluttering thing against kurumi’s palm. then, after a beat, naoi exhaled, her grip tightening ever so slightly.
neither of them said anything about it. they just sat there, hands clasped between them, the warmth of it spreading through kurumi’s chest like something inevitable.
something they already knew.
it was late—too late for either of them to still be awake, but neither of them had made an effort to leave the couch and split off into their separate ways to their separate spaces where they’d spend time separately in their separate rooms.
the tv cast a dim glow across the living room, the volume turned down so low that the voices barely carried beyond the screen. naoi was slouched in the corner, legs stretched out, one arm thrown lazily over the back of the couch. kurumi sat beside her, hugging her knees to her chest, eyes locked on the flickering screen but not truly watching.
"you look half dead," naoi muttered, glancing at her.
kurumi huffed. "i could say the same about you."
"yeah, but i always look like this. you somehow look worse."
she nudged her with her foot, and naoi let out a quiet snort, shifting slightly so that she was sitting up straighter. silence settled between them again—comfortable, familiar. it had been happening more lately—this ease that neither of them acknowledged outright but both knew was there.
naoi exhaled through her nose, her gaze drifting over to kurumi. her hair was slightly disheveled from the way she’d been leaning against the couch, and there was a faint crease between her brows, like she was deep in thought.
"you're spacing out again," she stated plainly.
kurumi blinked, staring at her. "huh?"
"you do that a lot now. is it 'cause of me?" naoi smirked, leaning in slightly. "finally realizing you can’t live without me?"
kurumi rolled her eyes but didn’t immediately retort, which was… strange, to say the least. instead, she let out a slow breath and rested her chin on her knees.
"it’s weird," she admitted after a beat.
"what is?"
she hesitated, then turned her head slightly to meet her gaze. "us. being like this."
naoi’s smirk faltered, just a little. "being like what?"
kurumi pressed her lips together, looking almost uncertain. "not wishing death upon the other anymore."
naoi let out a quiet laugh, tilting her head back against the couch. "yeah," she muttered. "guess so.”
kurumi hummed. "yeah."
silence stretched between them again, but this time, there was something heavier in the air, something unspoken lingering between them. it wasn’t uncomfortable—it was just there, waiting, settling in the small space they hadn’t yet closed.
naoi shifted, hesitating for only a fraction of a second before reaching out. she tugged lightly at kurumi’s wrist, not forcefully, just enough for her to glance down at naoi’s hand.
"what?"
naoi shrugged. "nothing. just making sure you’re real."
kurumi stared at her for a moment before scoffing lightly; she didn’t pull away.
instead, after a long pause, she let her fingers curl slightly around hers.
naoi didn’t say anything—she didn’t need to. she just gave her hand a small squeeze, and for once, neither of them felt the need to fill the silence with words.
the atmosphere between them felt different tonight.
it wasn’t anything particularly dramatic—no sudden realization, no heart-stopping epiphany. it was quieter than that, more subtle, lingering in the way their eyes flickered toward each other before darting away. they sat side by side on the couch, an old movie playing on the television, though neither of them paid much attention to it.
naoi could feel kurumi’s presence more than she could focus on anything else—the slight shift of her posture, the way she tucked stray strands of hair behind her ear, the sound of her slow, even breaths. it was strange, how these small details felt magnified, like every little movement carried a weight she couldn’t ignore.
she wasn’t usually like this.
kurumi was calm as always, but even she seemed slightly on-edge tonight—her fingers twitched against the fabric of her sleeve, her posture slightly more rigid than usual. it wasn’t avoidance, nor was it discomfort—it was something else entirely.
something far heavier, something unspoken.
naoi stole another glance, only to find kurumi already looking at her. she froze.
neither of them looked away this time.
their breathing slowed. the space between them, normally unnoticed, felt suffocatingly small now.
naoi felt a strange hesitation she wasn’t used to. normally, she had no problem being blunt, no problem throwing out teasing remarks, but right now, her mouth felt dry, and her hands clenched into fists against her lap. kurumi’s expression was unreadable, but her lips parted slightly, as if she were about to say something—only, no words came.
neither of them moved; neither of them spoke.
naoi wasn’t sure what made her do it—maybe it was the way kurumi’s eyes softened, or maybe it was the way the world outside felt so still, like this moment existed in isolation from everything else.
she leaned in. slow, slow, slowly —as slow as humanly possibly.
kurumi didn’t stop her.
their noses brushed first, and naoi felt the way kurumi’s breath hitched—the way her own pulse pounded in her ears. there was still a fraction of space between them, so small that she could feel the warmth radiating off kurumi’s lips. naoi hesitated for a second longer, just long enough to see the way kurumi’s lashes fluttered.
then, she closed the distance.
their lips met in a kiss so soft, so careful, it felt almost fragile. naoi barely pressed forward, as if she was afraid of breaking whatever delicate thing existed between them. kurumi’s lips were warm, unmoving at first, but then she slowly reciprocated.
it was brief—barely a few seconds—but it left something lingering, something unsaid yet entirely understood. when they pulled back, their eyes met again, and naoi felt the overwhelming weight of everything they hadn’t voiced between them.
kurumi didn’t say anything. naoi didn’t either. but for once, words weren’t necessary.