Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

anzu?

had to get a new phone. other one broke

worst week ever

dunno if this is you

srry

Ranmaru really should’ve transferred over his contacts when he had the chance. It would’ve spared him a lot of time and the onslaught of a migraine. 

He couldn’t exactly blame himself. To say the past few days had been overwhelming would be a massive understatement. Breaking his phone and shelling out half of his savings on a replacement had only been the cherry on top. By now, the feeling of overwhelm had resolved itself to demoralization and familiar apathy. Dully, he picked up the pieces left in the wake of his week.

He did hope she responded soon, though. He could use someone to rant to. It was unusual. It wasn’t often that Ranmaru felt the need to talk about his problems. It was often up to him to stew in his emotions alone. He guessed it had all built up inside him enough to need to be expelled, like a nasty stomach bug. 

First it was the newspaper club. They had some big idea about interviewing a bunch of the school’s clubs and whipping up an edition centered around the school’s community. The idea made Ranmaru lethargic from the announcement, but he had no idea that it would amount to be as exhausting as it was. He’d talked to enough strangers and spent enough extracurricular time on campus to drain his social battery for weeks. Then he got his hair cut. Haircuts were probably the thing he dreaded most in the world, but he’d put it off long enough. Of course, his hairdresser cut his hair too short, as she always did. It deflated his confidence. Finally, when he was laying in bed trying his damndest to escape it all, his phone dropped off the edge and smacked against the corner of his dresser. 

Now, he’d forgotten Anzu’s phone number. The only phone number he knew off the top of his head was his mother’s and that was only because she’d drilled it into his head at a young age. Everyone else’s was taken care of by his contacts app. 

He thought he might know Anzu’s, but he acknowledged that it was an educated guess. He was certain he got the area code and first few numbers right, but wasn’t confident in the last few. 

His phone buzzed with a notification from the number he’d guessed. His eyebrows quirked up in mild surprise. Anzu never got back to him so fast.

Hey! I’m not Anzu, but I’m sorry you’ve had such a bad week. -S

I hope you like your new phone? -S

And that you find Anzu, wherever they are. -S

Now he was squinting down at his phone, bewildered by the mysterious person who responded to a wrong number text like that . He quite frankly had no idea what to do with it. 

oh

new phone’s nice I guess

and thx… I’m sure I will

———

Sara couldn’t bring herself to ignore a wrong number text. Never could. For all she knew, the person on the other end could be counting on receiving a text back from whoever they were trying to reach. If she didn’t set them on the right track, they could think they had the right number and were being ignored. It was like holding the door for someone. A simple act of courtesy.

Plus, she felt for this person. After all, they apparently had the “worst week ever”. She couldn’t let having their message ignored by this “Anzu” person be another bump in the road for them. 

Breaking your phone’s the worst. I’ve been there. Nice to get a shiny new one, though. -S

Anyways. Hoping the best for you, stranger -S

She really meant for that to be the end of it. Even if it had been the most entertaining thing to happen to her in days. Midterms were coming up and she had sequestered herself in her room since the beginning of the week. She had already put in four mind-numbing hours of studying that night. Where the stranger on the other end of the line apparently had a bad week, she’d had the most monotonous in recent memory. The distraction of getting a text from a mystery person offered just enough intrigue for her to break from the slump. 

She didn’t hear anything back for the better part of the night. She tried to forget about the texts, but maybe for lack of something better to focus on, she kept turning it over in her mind. Frustratingly, it took her attention away from studying and she had to close her books for the night. In a mania that could only be induced by boredom and late night hours, she considered it like a puzzle. One that she didn’t have intention to solve, but wouldn’t hurt to lackadaisically click a few pieces together. She found herself reopening the messages and scanning them over. Who was this person? Were they young, old? A boy, a girl (something in between)? There was a non-zero chance of them being a serial killer or a kidnapper, but they didn’t really text like one. Not that she knew how serial killers and kidnappers texted.

uh well

got anzu’s number

thanks btw

whoever you are

Suddenly, a few notifications chimed out from the serial-killer kidnapper’s number. Sara jolted at the noise, then snickered at herself for getting so worked up over nothing. 

Reading over the new messages, she chewed over whether to respond. Technically, her job was done and they’d found the right person. There was no need for her to keep talking to them. Stranger-danger PSAs and lectures from over-anxious adults looped in her head. 

Ultimately, her curiosity and courtesy won over. One more response couldn’t hurt. And it wasn’t like she could leave them hanging now! 

I’m glad! -S

And no problem. Just doing my due diligence by making sure you reach the right person. -S

wow. a public servant

who signs off every text with their initial or somethin

Haha! You’re funny -S

doin my due diligence -r

Aw! -S

And you signed off with your initial! -S

it’s clunky -r

I usually don’t do it past the first couple of texts. Plus, I think it's charming. It personalizes the message a little, you know? But this is fun. Adds to the mystery…! Especially now that you’re playing along. -S

guess I’m stuck doin this -r

Only if you keep texting me! -S

who the hell are you -r

Like I said, just someone who wants to make sure you got the right number. And signs off their messages, I guess. -S

nice of ya -r

Anyways, hope your weekend goes better, R. Happy Friday! -S

not friday yet -r

It is now. -S

It’s midnight -S

srry it’s late i’ll let you sleep -r

—-

Ranmaru had no idea why he even texted them back beyond their first message. Then he made the effort to thank them hours after the conversation was naturally over. Now it was midnight on Friday and he found himself dumbly smiling at his phone.

It had to be the fragile state of mind stress had put him in. It left him susceptible to be charmed by some nice stranger who texted with near perfect grammar and signed off all their messages. Their style conjured up the visual of a kind retiree or a middle-aged mom up past their bedtime trying to help him. The central image his brain settled on was of the professor of one of his general education art classes from a previous semester. He could easily imagine Professor Mishima, in all his friendly eccentricities, staying up late to help out a wayward stranger.  

Upon the realization that it was midnight, Ranmaru closed his messenger app. He silenced his notifications for the night and did one final check of social media. He opened the platform he had found Anzu’s profile on earlier (he didn’t know why he didn’t do that first before guessing numbers). A few messages from her were waiting since he last opened the app.

Anzu (downtheclown726): Ranmaruuuuu I’m so sorry you’re having such a bad week!!! Like WHAT! ﾟ(ﾟ´Д｀ﾟ)ﾟ

Anzu (downtheclown726): did you wanna talk about it??? 

Ranmaru ( ranmaru.kageyama1): hey anzu

Hours ago, Ranmaru would’ve readily taken the invitation. The emotions had now smoothed over—not into begrudged indifference, but resolution. As ridiculous and probably pathetic as it was, a total stranger was to thank for it. 

Ranmaru (ranmaru.kageyama1): its good actually

Ranmaru (ranmaru.kageyama1): wanna hear somethin stupid though

He explained the situation. Anzu was thoroughly amused by every part of it. She agreed that S was probably just a well-meaning older person. Though she did seem a lot more enthusiastic about the concept than he was. 

Anzu (downtheclown726): this is like the COOLEST thing ever Ranmaru! 

Anzu (downtheclown726): u could get like a pen pal out of this ! Like a movie (*'▽'*)

Anzu (downtheclown726): say hi to S for me in the morning??

Ranmaru (ranmaru.kageyama1): no way I’m doin that

Chapter Text

It’s okay. I’m up late studying, anyway. -S

On a Friday… -S

Ranmaru woke up to find S had sent him two more messages the night before after he’d silenced his phone. In the sleepy haze of his waking moments, he found himself strangely warmed by the messages.

It definitely wasn’t because it was S. Ranmaru didn’t often wake up to notifications. His circle had always been incredibly small. For the majority of his life, it had only been him and his mom. And it wasn’t like he was waking up to messages from her. She wasn't even in the house the majority of mornings. If she was, she was usually still sleeping in, coming off of a double the night before. It was only recently that he had a solid friend to talk to at all. Nearly two years ago, he met Anzu at his university's freshman orientation. If it weren’t for her incredibly sociable and persistent nature, they probably wouldn’t have connected like they did. It wasn’t like he was one to approach people and maintain connections.

The value of companionship wasn’t lost on him, though. As much as it came across that he listlessly passed through life without seeking connection, he really valued the few he had. In vulnerable moments, he daydreamed about being the type of person who was thought of by those around him. To be included in plans, greeted around his campus, to have a handful of friends. Someone who woke up to good morning text messages. 

That wasn’t what S was doing. Obviously. But the illusion was nice to live in momentarily. 

He didn’t respond to the message. Once he sobered from the waking delusion, he felt betrayed by it. Mood mildly soured by his own involuntary response, he got ready with his phone out of sight. 

In the quiet, one thought of S lingered. They had mentioned they were up late studying. Studying; potentially implying they were a student. Sure, that didn’t guarantee they were his age, but it was a little clue toward their identity. Not that he should remotely care about that. 

Plus, it reminded him that he should be studying for his upcoming midterms. On top of figuring out who he was going to interview for the school paper.

Ranmaru gathered a handful of water from his sink and splashed it in his face.

—-

Sara was on a “mall date” with her friends. Her friend Joe had recently become obsessed with the mall, despite most people their age considering them a little outdated and tacky. He’d always had an interest in flashy, older stuff, so the interest wasn’t completely out of left field. He gushed over the excitement of floating from store to store without buying anything and the possibility of meeting new people. In execution, it wasn't all he cracked it up to be. He was chasing after the passing spirit of mall culture. What Sara’s sociology classes referred to as “death of the third place”, Joe called “the type a’ fun folks just don’t get anymore!”

Ryoko, another friend who’d decided to tag along, set her sights on a used electronics store. As they passed the threshold into the store, R crossed Sara’s mind. It has been two days since their conversation and Sara hadn’t really thought of them. She was a very curious person, but not that curious. But the association of purchasing phones was too strong to ward off. 

Her friends always said that her two fatal flaws were that she was too dedicated and too curious. As begrudged as she was to admit, they were right. There was no shortage of examples to point to where she winded up in absurd situations and commitments due to her tendencies.

As Ryoko and Joe chattered in the background, a war of logistics was waged in her mind. She wondered if it would be absolutely absurd to text R again. By most accounts it would be. Though it didn’t seem like she was bothering them the last they spoke. Maybe it could be just a bit of lighthearted fun. If they didn’t want to respond, they didn’t have to.

She gave into the impulse and pulled out her phone.

Too bad you already replaced your phone. I wound up in a used electronic store and there were phones that were half priced! -S

She was only half expecting a response, but she definitely wasn’t expecting them to get back to her in a matter of minutes.

that is too bad -r

had to shell out a lot -r

There was a pause, and then one more message.

you’re not tryin to sell me something are ya? -r

Yes… I’m a very persistent sales person. -S

That you texted first. -S

…that’s how they get you -r

—- 

They fell into a weird sort of… friendship (acquaintanceship?) over the next week. Just when the messages seemed to dry up and their strange exchange would end, one of them would open another conversation. 

At first, their exchanges were short and loosely related to previous conversations. 

Well, weekend’s over! Hope it’s not the worst week ever again. -S

thx. don’t think it will be -r

and uh btw -r

anzu says hi -r

(she won’t stop asking me to tell you that srry) -r

Haha! Hey Anzu! -S

Then came requests to weigh in on debates.

hey s -r

settle a debate for me? -r

I LOVE debates! -S

What is it? -S

friend’s convinced movies are better than books -r

tell her that’s absurd? -r

Definitely absurd! There’s so much more detail and room for characterization in books. Movies shorten all that good stuff down to make it fit into a run time. I don’t even know the argument you could make for movies being better. -S

she’s saying it’s all about visual storytelling and emotional impact -r

i’m sayin you can get that out of a book if you use your imagination -r

And you’re completely right! -S

Soon enough, the messenger was filled with stories about their days, tiny rants and amicable conversations. Chats became longer and more involved. Though a regard for personal safety remained, with personal information omitted where it could be, there was an undoubtable shift. They didn’t feel like strangers anymore. 

Neither party knew why they kept up the charade for as long as they did. Nor could they ignore the fluttering excitement that came with every new notification.

—-

Ranmaru couldn’t put off the interviews any longer. It wasn’t like him to procrastinate, but he had been a little distracted as of late. Between midterms and the events of the week before (and definitely not S), commitments piled up. A twinge of regret flared up in his chest—on occasion, he felt like he’d bit off more than he could chew by getting involved with the newspaper.

It wasn’t entirely of his own volition that he was in the club. After opening up to Anzu about how sometimes he felt the desire to get involved and spend his time on something that felt “worthwhile”, she made it her personal mission to help him find a “purpose”. While part of him appreciated it, there were times where it grated on him. If there was one thing she was good at, it was pushing him out of his comfort zone. 

Ranmaru initially landed on the newspaper club because Anzu wouldn't leave him alone until he tried something . He picked it because it sounded the least boring and troublesome out of the clubs his university offered. She didn’t say he had to stay, but one meeting turned into two and two turned into three. The smallest flame ignited in his chest, fueled by an unfamiliar internal drive. 

He found that he liked having the little, distant insight into the lives of his peers. He indulged in the bite sized morsels of gossip. It felt like he was involved in the community, even if it was from a far. At times it was a bitter medicine, but it made him feel better than he had before.

He swallowed the nerves and reminded himself of all the good. Before long, he settled into a relaxed, breezy state and gathered the materials he needed for his interview. After some deliberation, he landed on the Debate Club as the focus of his piece. Though he was never roused by debate enough to give it a try, he respected the determination and quick wit it took to succeed at it. 

He found the room the club typically used to hold their meetings. A few students had already trickled in, but there weren’t so many that it would be hard to get a member’s attention. He floated into the room and surveyed the crowd. A few students had gathered by the windows to chat; one person stood by the door, engrossed in a conversation on their phone; a couple scattered throughout the seats and idley waited. He checked his phone. There was still twenty minutes before the meeting started. Surely that was enough time.

Before he could parse out who to approach, a voice cut in from behind. 

“Hey! I don’t think I’ve seen you here before. Are you looking to sign up?”

He turned around to find a ginger-haired girl curiously waiting for his response. She seemed intrigued enough by the prospect of a new member to make him hesitant to reveal his intentions. 

“Sorry,” he replies, shaking his head. “Actually a part of the school’s newspaper. We’re doin’ an edition on different clubs on campus… stopped by to see if someone would be interested in interviewing for it.”

Instead of disappointment, she responds with a kind smile that reaches striking, plum-hued eyes. “That’s alright. Who are you looking to interview?”

“Um… anyone.”

“Well, then!” She strolls over to the nearest desk and hooks a stylish satchel on the back of the chair. “I’d be happy to get interviewed.”

“Right…” He trailed off, stupidly. His lips felt too loose and limp, making it difficult to get words out. 

The girl’s eyes widen and her hands go up in defense.

“Unless you want someone else. Is it conceited to offer up myself?” A tiny laugh colors her voice. 

Ranmaru hurriedly course-corrects. “No! You’re perfect.”

“Haha! Good, good.”

He digs his notebook out of his pocket. The girl gestures for him to take a seat at the desk beside her.

“So,” he begins. “Name?”

She settles in her seat and directs her full attention his way. It’s enough to make him forget his own name. 

“I’m Sara.”

Chapter Text

It was hard not to think about his interaction with Sara when he was buried nose-deep in writing his segment for the paper. It irked him a little to know he probably was kidding himself with the excuse—he’d still think about it even if he wasn’t writing a piece about her. He couldn’t help that she’d made an impression.

Ranmaru had kind of hit the jackpot when it came to finding the perfect interviewee. Sara was clearly a very dedicated, smart person. She knew everything about the club and readily offered valuable tidbits about her own experience. She had been in the club since her first semester and never missed a meeting. The majority of the time, she spoke in a very well-articulated manner. 

Referring back to some of the notes he’d taken, he realized that she also had the tendency to tell straight-faced jokes. With some embarrassment, he recognized that he hadn’t understood them in the moment and didn’t laugh. Looking back, it was a lot easier to tell when she was joking. Sometimes the jokes came out a little awkwardly and were often followed up with a quiet, mischievous smile. 

He ran his hand through fluffed-up hair. He wished he’d been audacious enough to ask for her number. Not for anything in particular…

Ranmaru had written himself to a point of exhaustion. He decided to throw in the towel for the night. While he mulled over what to fill his time with before bed, his phone chimed. There were only two people who could be texting him so late. 

My friends are making me go to a pool with them this weekend… help. -S

It’s entirely unsurprising to find it’s S. Nearly two weeks in, it’s almost a nightly ritual to exchange at least a few messages. Maybe it was dangerous or weird, to incorporate a stranger into his daily routine. Though, over time it became harder to read S as anything but harmless. He kept his guard up, but they kept their chats so devoid of identifying information that he had little clue as to who S actually was. The biggest clues he had were that they liked debates, studied (for school? For a job? For fun?), and most recently, they loved jam (strawberry was their favorite). As for how weird it was to keep texting… apparently he liked weird things. 

what’s wrong with the pool -r

It’s embarrassing… -S

then why are you texting me about it -r

Good point. -S

I’m a really bad swimmer. Don’t tell anybody. -S

who would I have to tell? -r

I don’t know! You’ve kinda got this cool mystique about you. I’m sure there’s people to gossip to about it. -S

no offense but even if I did have a lineup of folks to tell, why’d I tell em about some stranger not knowing how to swim -r

and thanks? -r

I know how to swim. -S

I’m just not the best at it. I sink like a rock. -S

Ranmaru paused, fingers hovering over the keys. At once, his stomach twists into knots. A few pieces click together and he comes to the realization that there is a real chance that he’s talking to a child. Between needing to study and struggling to swim, S could be in high school or god forbid, even younger. It wasn’t like it would be a serious crime—Ranmaru was barely an adult, himself. He would definitely have stopped talking to them ages ago if he knew they were young, though. It would be wrong.

wait, serious question. -r

you’re not super young, are you? i can’t keep texting you if you’re still a high schooler or something. -r

Haha… because of my trouble swimming…? You know, if I didn’t appreciate you for respecting kids’ protection, I’d be a little more offended. I’m not a high schooler. Thank god. That would be really weird. -S

I’m in college, actually. So college-aged. -S

Hopefully you’re not super young, either. Or a super old man. -S

Are you even a man? I don’t know! -S

cool. good -r

i’m a guy, not old though.. or a kid -r

also college -r 

You’re a guy? What a coincidence—I’m a girl. -S

Not only did Ranmaru feel whiplash from the amount of information he’d just learned about S, he was entirely lost on how to respond. Again. S did that—they (or she, apparently) occasionally said things that threw the conversation off the rails. From his perspective, at least. It was hard to tell if they were jokes, a way to mess with him, or if it was just a quirk of hers.

right -r

anyways just tell em you don’t wanna go swimming. shouldn’t they know you can’t swim by now if they’re your friends -r

**have trouble swimming -r

They do. Maybe they think they could teach me or something. You know, throw me in the deep end and let me struggle until I figure out how to float. Like those baby swim lessons where they just toss them in. -S

Ranmaru was audibly laughing at her message, unable to get the visual out of his head.

I don’t know. I guess it was nice of them to extend an invite. It’s not like I have to go. -S

haha -r

do what makes you comfortable -r

Maybe it could be nice to go, just to lounge in the sun. -S

yep -r

Thanks, R. -S

sure -r

btw you should be more careful about what you tell people -r

i mean i’m still a stranger -r

Maybe. It’s not like you can find me just by knowing I’m a college girl. You’d know more from a social media profile. -S

guess you’re right -r

You’re a nice stranger, too. I like talking to you. -S

Ranmaru hates the reaction his body has. His heart flips in his chest, as if a text message had any tangibility. It makes him feel stupid and sick. 

Still, he can’t help himself. It’s almost as if it’s beyond his own volition that he says what he does next. 

and maybe don’t swim if you go to the pool -r

also, sunscreen -r

You worried about me? First your online safety PSA, now this… -S

honestly? a little, yeah -r

you’re a danger to yourself, s… -r

—-

Predictably, Sara spent the entire pool visit sprawled out on the lounge chairs. Typically, she didn’t mind spending an afternoon like this; reading or listening to music while her friends enjoyed themselves. She actually enjoyed the half-removed solitude. Sara loved being around friends and often came across as outgoing, but she didn’t have the strongest social battery. 

Today her books weren’t cutting it. She felt like talking to someone. 

There was no shortage of company. Joe and Ryoko were lounging in the pool in front of her. A few familiar faces from school spread out across the pool deck too; all of which she wasn’t close with but could be good for casual conversation. Most of them were mutual friends, the majority invited by Joe. Nonetheless, surrounded by people her age, the moment felt idealistically college-like.

She wondered if R liked the pool. It wasn’t hard to conjure up the idea of him in the hot afternoon haze. A college boy, not unlike the faces in the array around her. She imagined him as a little reserved, maybe watching from the sidelines like her, but so magnetic and easy-going. He’d be easy to talk to, him seamlessly melding into her afternoon. She had never thought about what he could look like, but was currently a little disenchanted by the notion that she had no frame of reference for his appearance. Her mind grappled to conjure a daydream without an image. She fantasized over a chance encounter: a run in at the snack bar, an accidental glance from across the pool. 

Sara knew it was illogical to think about meeting R in person. A little delusional; dangerous maybe. It wasn’t like she would ever initiate a meeting. Yet the notion was sweet and refreshing to indulge in, like a sweet tea in the sun. If not just to know what he was like beyond the screen.

At the pool. No forced swim lessons yet. It’s just like a million degrees. -S

A few minutes passed before she got a response. Sara was most often the one to open conversations. Sometimes she worried that she had finally become a bother and he was through with her. Yet responses came in without fail. Ironically, he was the most reliable person she “knew” when it came to texting. She never had to wonder or wait.

rlly hot out for me too -r

you are at a pool. you could put on floaties and get in the shallow end -r

Like a little kid?? -S

haha -r

or dip your feet in idk -r

No… wish I had an ice pop or something to cool off. -S

i’d buy you one if I was there -r

“Woaaaah, what’s that look?” 

Sara looks up to find Joe standing over her with a prying smile. Teasing curiosity sparkles in his eyes. She physically jumps. Her phone drops out of her hands, bounces out of her lap and lands by her feet. Face up, in front of Joe. His gaze falls down to the screen. He only gets a momentary glance at it before she scrambles to scoop her phone up. Unfortunately it’s long enough to get an eyeful. The reaction is big and immediate. Joe’s smile morphs into a full-faced, cheesy grin. 

“ Whooooo’s thaaat ?” He sings, in all the overexcitement of a nosy middle schooler. 

“Joe, don’t read my texts!” She bites back. “It’s nobody.”

“Okay, I didn’t read any texts. I promise ya. Just saw there were texts.” Following the clarification, the obnoxious grin returns and he sits down at the foot of her lounge chair. “I just… geez Sara! If you were seeing someone, I would’a thought you’d tell me!”

A wide-eyed reaction only further incriminates her. “Who said I was seeing anyone?”

“That look on your face did!” 

“ Joe !” 

“Seriously! You had this crazy, watery smile. Man, I dunno if I’ve seen that look on ya before.”

Unknowing of another way to dispel him, she frantically waves her hands in the air in front of him. Laughing, he reaches out and playfully bats them. 

“Stop, stop!” Sara gasps out. “ Stop !”

The last exclamation is practically yelped out. The desperate sound disengages both of them. Joe closes his mouth, lets his hands fall to his sides and resolves to a more gentle smile. 

“Sorry, Sara.”

Joe was easily excitable, especially when it came to developments in her life, but he wasn’t oblivious to when someone reached their limit. 

Sara’s shoulders sag. “No, it’s fine, really. Pretty stupid, actually.”

He furrows his brows, reinforcing that she had yet to fill him in. Initially she hadn’t told him about R because it didn’t seem like a big deal. More and more every day, that wasn’t the case anymore. Now she was texting him daily and daydreaming about chance encounters.

“It’s not a partner I haven’t told you about… I got a wrong number text two weeks ago.”

Joe blinks at her blankly. “I’m… listening?”

She snickers. “At first I just responded to correct the person, but somehow we got to talking. I thought it was just a bit of fun at first. Like having a conversation with a random person at a grocery store that you’ll never see again. But then we just… kept talking. We tell each other about our days, have these little running jokes, I don’t know. Silly stuff. I don’t tell him much about who I am and he doesn’t ask for it, so it’s not dangerous . There’s little details that have come out over time, though. He’s in college, apparently. He seems like a cool guy. Well spoken, likes some of the stuff I like…”

For the first time in her recent memory, Joe was at a loss for words. When he finally gets a response out, he just chuckles and shakes his head. 

“Geez, Sara. You sure are good at gettin’ yourself in weird situations.”

She couldn’t disagree. 

“I mean… It's kinda cool?” He says, still lightly laughing. “I dunno!”

“I guess,” she replies. “I mean, I like talking to them.”

“Clearly!”

Sara sighs, the tension letting up. “I’m glad you don’t think it’s super weird. I didn’t want a lecture.”

“It’s a little weird,” he light-heartedly jabs. “I guess as long as you’re being safe, I’m happy for ya! It’s a pretty unconventional way to meet someone. I wonder if you’ll ever run into him. Same area code?”

“Yeah! It’s like a mystery.”

“You and your mysteries.”

“You can’t deny this one is super interesting.” She waggles her eyebrows back at him.

“Oh, Sara…”

Just when the ball is in her court, he steals it back. In comes another telltale smirk, clueing her in on where he’ll go next before he says it. It fills her with exasperation. 

“Man…” he leans back on his elbows and dreamily stares off into space. “It’s a modern love story.”

“Stop trying to marry me off! Seriously Joe, it’s not like that.”

“ ‘Trying to marry you off’ ?” Jokes shakes his head, then scoots closer. He pats her shoulder, as if he’s a good-natured coach offering wisdom to a little-leaguer. She rolls her eyes, wholeheartedly. “Listen. As your best friend… Everything from the way you talk about this guy to the way you look at your phone… it makes it seem like you’ve got a bit of a thing for him.”

“That’s absolutely absurd. No way.” 

She dismisses his suggestion in its entirety, leaving no room for consideration. The idea was so completely out of left field that it was bizarre coming from him. Joe was usually so much better at reading her.

Chapter Text

The newspaper meeting had concluded for the day and Ranmaru was on his way across campus to meet Anzu. They tried to meet up after classes and clubs at least once a week. Most days their hangouts were as simple as lounging at home, but today they decided on a trip to get smoothies. 

He found the performing arts building situated in the center of campus. Though none of his classes were held in it, nor were any activities he was interested in, Ranmaru was very familiar with it. He had waited around for Anzu in it more times than he could count. Anzu majored in Theater Arts, with a concentration in costume design. As a result, the majority of her classes were in the building; as well as the school plays and the Improv Club. If he needed to find Anzu, the performing arts building was a sure bet.

He found the main theater and pulled open the squeaky stage door. It loudly announced his entrance. For a moment, he thought nobody had noticed—until a squealing girl tackled him from the side. The force of her enthusiasm was so sudden and strong that he nearly toppled over. She was a small girl, but at times she conducted herself with such force that it was like there were two of her. A chuckle squeezed out of Ranmaru as he steadied himself and hugged her back. 

When she pulled away, he noticed a high, light clicking sound pull away with her. His eyes immediately caught on her arms, which were covered from wrist to elbow in a mess of bracelets. There was a variety of them decorating her arms, from beaded to woven friendship bands to bangles, all in a wide array of colors. He’d never seen them on her before—and it was a lot of bracelets to suddenly collect. He wasn’t sure where she got them from, but they matched her outfit. Paired with her striped zip-up hoodie and the numerous colorful layers she’d coordinated beneath, the maximalist look the bracelets lended was right at home with her style. It was a curiosity that she hadn’t tried the look before.

“Which craft store did you rob for all that?” Ranmaru asks.

Anzu reaches out and bats at his shoulder. The bracelets loudly clatter along with the movement. “Oh, Ranmaru! They’re my new improv partner’s! He let me try them on. Aren’t they sooooo cool?”

Ranmaru’s eyes flit up from Anzu and draw to a boy standing a few feet away. He notices the attention and perks up. A light, breezy smile finds his lips and he strolls over. A hand brushes over big, teased out fluffy hair; which is generously adorned with a rainbow of hair clips. His outfit, while at its base more toned down than Anzu’s, was extensively styled with coordinated belts, necklaces, and well-placed pops of color. Before he even got a word in, Ranmaru thought, ‘oh my god, Anzu’s met her match’.

“This is Joe!” Anzu excitedly introduces him. “My old improv partner dropped out a little while back—that quitter!—and Joe popped by a week or two ago to give the club a try.”

“Nice to meet’cha,” Joe says. “I hop around clubs, sometimes. Y’know, give it all a try. The last few meetings have been fun, though. You’re Anzu’s friend?”

“Yep… it’s Ranmaru.”

Ranmaru maintains a cool, collected tone. He often aims to come across as relaxed and blasé, especially to new people he meets. The desire to come off as intended is only compounded by Joe. Despite his cheerful demeanor and gaudy aesthetic, Joe exudes an air of coolness. 

“He had all these bracelets on,” Anzu explains. 

“She wouldn’t stop asking about them,” Joe adds. “So I let her try ‘em on at the end.”

“Look!” 

Anzu follows with a full-body wiggle. While shaking her entire body is unnecessary, it causes the bracelets to loudly clatter together. Delighted laughter from Anzu mixes with the chorus of clatters.

“Wow… it’s like you gave a kid a really loud toy,” Ranmaru snickers. “Once she gets some of her own, that’s all I’ll be hearing from now on.”

Anzu crosses her arms, betrayed. Joe breaks into a hearty chuckle. 

“Seriously, Ranmaru!” Anzu shouts at him, then turns to Joe. “He’s like an annoying little brother-“

“I’m two months younger than you.”

“And?”

Ranmaru sighs. “Anyways. I do like ‘em.”

“Thanks!” Still smiling at the bickering, Joe graciously accepts the compliment.

Anzu begins to take off the bracelets and hand them back to their owner. “Annoying little brother…”

When they first met, Ranmaru would get nervous when Anzu responded like this. He was afraid he’d upset her. She has a tendency to react strongly. Over time, he learned that Anzu never took anything too seriously. It was all in good fun. In all their lighthearted bickering, they really had started to resemble siblings… he’d definitely be the older brother, though.

“Alright, well, I guess we’re off,” Anzu says, piling the last of the bracelets into Joe’s hands.

“I’ll cya next meeting!” Joe replies as he slips on the last few beads. After he pauses to consider the bracelets. He plucks one off and hands it to Anzu. 

She gasps in delight. “You’re the best!”

Joe shrugs. Among the hundred-or-so bracelets he has, giving up one isn’t the biggest deal, but Anzu clearly appreciates the gesture. Ranmaru can’t help but smile. Out of all the friends Anzu has introduced him to in passing, he hopes Joe sticks around. He seems like a great guy.

Suddenly, Anzu lights up. She glances between the two of them, mulling something over. Her hands land on Ranmaru’s shoulders and she turns to Joe. 

“One sec. Could you stay here while I ask Ranmaru something?” 

Joe nods and Anzu takes her cue. She ushers Ranmaru just outside the stage door. Ranmaru is pretty convinced her new friend could still hear them if he wanted to.

“I wanna check with you first, but could we please invite Joe to smoothies?” She asks. “Just for a bit. Then we could hang out, just us, after.”

He laughs at the heedful nature of her plea. Maybe in another situation, he’d be more hesitant, but he isn’t worried. Anzu seems enthused at the idea and he didn’t mind Joe’s presence. It would only be for a little while, anyways. Sometimes she seemed to forget that while he could be withdrawn, he wasn’t completely anti-social.

“Sure.” He shrugs. “Why’d you pull me aside?”

“Really? Yay!” She squeals. “Just wanted to make sure before I invited him.”

“That’s… considerate. Thanks, Anzu.”

Joe readily accepts the invitation—with a request attached. His initial plan after clubs was to check on his friend, who apparently needed a “pick me up”. With permission from Anzu and Ranmaru, he gives her a call to invite along.

“Sara’s had her head buried in her books for wayyyyy too long. She hasn’t left her house for anything but classes in days. She can be so serious at times! She could use a break—and smoothie,” Joe comments.

“Hm. Sara sounds a little like you,” Anzu notes, looking at Ranmaru.

Sara. The name, of course, stirred recognition. The face of the smart, pretty girl from the debate club came to the forefront of Ranmaru’s mind. This Sara, who apparently could be a little too serious (and “sounds like him”, whatever that means) sort of fit the bill. It probably wasn’t her, though. Sara wasn’t the most uncommon name. In all likelihood, it was a coincidence. 

—-

Stepping out of her car and getting a lungful of fresh air gave Sara a sensation of vertigo after being holed up studying for so many days. She was glad that Joe invited her out for a break, even though it meant a few people she didn’t know were tagging along. The thought of a sweet strawberry smoothie guided her. Already, the drink refreshes her–a light breeze to cool off an overheated mind. 

Finding Joe and his group is no big feat. While they sit on the other end of the shop, two voices loudly carry across the room. He’s engrossed in an energetic conversation with a short, colorful girl. Next to them sat a boy with hair so fluffy that reminded her of cotton candy. The connection clicked in her brain swiftly. Was that Newspaper Boy? What were the chances? Pretty likely, since Joe seemed to know half the people at their college, but still. Maybe she did know someone Joe invited, after all.

As she approached the table, the boy’s gaze strolled up and met hers. His eyes widened and he froze like a deer in headlights. It was a pretty surreal expression to see on him. From what she remembered, Ranmaru exuded nonchalance. His face was notably inexpressive beyond a typical tired, slightly bored impression. The look he gave her now was so different that it made her giggle. 

“Hey! Ranmaru, right?”

He clears his throat. “Yup. Good memory, Sara.”

“You remember too?”

“…Writin’ a piece about ya. Of course I remember.”

“Right! Um, I can’t wait to read it.”

By now, Joe and the girl sitting with him have taken note of the exchange. Joe watches Sara quizzically and his companion gasps.

“You two know each other?” The girl asks, excitement building in her voice with every word.

“A little…?” Sara replies.

Ranmaru swoops in and explains. “Interviewed her for newspaper.”

“Ohhhhh… super cool! You meet so many cool people through that club,” She pauses and turns her attention to Sara. “I’m Anzu. I love your outfit, by the way.”

Sara brushes her fingers over her pleated denim skirt, pleased. It was a new purchase and it felt great to receive a compliment on it. “Thank you.”

“Well, I guess introductions are out of the way,” Joe pipes in. “Small world.”

After a few more minutes of introductions and chatter, the group makes their way towards the smoothie bar. Anzu is first up, dashing up to the counter to place her order. Joe floats between checking on Sara and following Anzu. She waves him off, comfortable with letting him enjoy his time with his new friend. All the while, Ranmaru stalls behind, patient and unbothered by his surroundings. Perhaps in absence of another place to fix her attention, Sara finds herself curious about him. 

Back at the table, Joe and Anzu have no trouble finding another conversation topic. While they try their best to pull Ranmaru and Sara into the conversation, the center of mass is with them. Sara has trouble tuning in, anyways. Ranmaru casually includes himself, jumping in here and there. Eventually, he seems to get bored and sits out entirely. Caught up in his own world, he stares out the window behind her. 

If there was a chance to talk to him, it would be now. She mulls over what to say, but he’s a little bit of a harder person to read than she’s used to. When she least expects it, he speaks. Her brain scrambles up the words and she can only blink in confusion. At first, she’s not even sure if it was directed at her, but his gaze doesn’t leave her.

“Sorry?” 

“S’ okay.” He shrugs, the hint of a smile adorning his face. “Askin’ about what you ordered. Looks good.”

“Oh!” She picks up her half-empty cup and swirls around the contents. “It’s just strawberry with extra sugar.”

“Extra sugar… got a sweet tooth, huh?”

“Add that to your paper,” she says. At first, the words come out confidently, but by the end of the sentence, she feels mildly embarrassed. 

He snickers. “Cute detail. Debate Star’s got a knack for sweet stuff.”

He says it all in a way that leans towards attentive, rather than sarcastic or dismissive. She relaxes a little.

“Debate ‘Star’? That’s high praise.”

“You earn it… from what I’ve heard. Interview was great.”

“Wow… well you’re a pretty good interviewer. Her cheeks feel a little flushed. She dumbly taps at them before moving on. “Well, the intention here was to kind of mimic strawberry jam…? It’s my favorite, but I don’t know. Didn’t work very well. Of course, it just tastes like a strawberry smoothie. Which is still super great.”

“Oh. Strawberry jam… wait-“

He pauses and his lips press into a thin line. His eyes crinkle as the silence grows. Caught up in a thought. Sara captures her lip between her teeth. The flow dies, as if she’d said something wrong. She had no idea what it could be. Strawberry jam wasn’t an offensive topic, as far as she knew.

“Did I say something…?”

“No. Sorry. Just distracted. The jam thing… good thought.”

There’s a brief lull, but the silence recovers quickly.

“Y’know, I’m curious,” Sara starts. 

“What about?”

“You kind of know what got me into debate from the interview, but what got you into journalism?”

Ranmaru’s brows raise curiously. “Hmm...” He props up his chin in his palm. “Guess I just liked hearing ‘bout people. Turned out I liked writing about ‘em, too. Didn’t expect to like it as much as I do, but here we are. Got me outta the house, you know?”

She hums thoughtfully. “I can see the charm in it. It’s a little window into people’s lives. Stuff happening around campus.”

“You get it… It gives ya insight. Into stuff you never would’a known about.”

“Or people you never would’ve met otherwise...”

Unconsciously, Sara leans in and smiles at him. His eyes shoot wide open and his gaze darts away from hers. She giggles, warmed by the funny feeling of satisfaction she gets from getting big reactions out of him. She leans back in her chair, giving him space to breathe. 

“I understand the getting out of the house thing, too,” she breezes forward. “Joe has to drag me out of the house sometimes.”

“Like today?”

“He mentioned it…?” She pouts.

“Hey, I get it. Anzu’s gotta do the same.”

From there they fall into a comfortable flow. Jumping between discussing interests, their smoothies drain and time passes by. Sara is shocked by how easy he is to talk to—by the way he conducted himself, she never would’ve guessed he’d feel so comfortable. It wasn’t usual for her to click so easily with people. Sara was decently good at holding passive conversations with acquaintances, but the way every beat felt so natural was unfamiliar. It was just as stunning as it was captivating. The effect didn’t seem one-sided, either. For some distance reason, too far off to place a finger on, it was as if they were already familiar.

Eventually, Joe butts in. “Um, guys?” 

Sara stops mid sentence. With the bubble popped, she retroactively realizes that Joe and Anzu have been quiet for some time. 

“What…?” Sara asks.

“We should probably start heading out soon,” he explains. “It’s getting dark and I think the staff are trying to close up.”

“Barista gave me a death glare…!” Anzu shivers.

“Oh god,” Sara shares a silently communicative look of a shared astonishment with Ranmaru. “I had no idea. You should’ve told us sooner.”

“Well, we didn’t wanna butt in on any of that,” Anzu suggestively remarks, jabbing Ranmaru with her elbow. “Sparks. Pew, pew!”

He puffs up in defense. Silently, he raises a hand in the air and places it between them. A barrier against her evocation. At least for Sara, his gesture is amusing enough to dispel some of the embarrassment. The levity doesn’t apply to Ranmaru. It looks as if he could melt into his seat.

—-

“No, Anzu. I didn’t forget to ask for her number ‘cuz I’m ‘chicken’. It just didn’t come up before we left.”

Ranmaru laid on his back, staring at a ceiling covered with glow stars. In exasperation, he folded his arms and buried his face in the crooks of his elbows. Music drones on distantly. Layered string lights, lava lamps and the scatter of color from a projector night light illuminated the room. Typically, Anzu’s room was a safe place for Ranmaru. Since they returned from their outing, it morphed into an interrogation room. 

A plop on the bed as she lays down next to him. She reaches out and gently pulls at his arms, uncovering his eyes. By the crinkle of her nose and a dubious pout, he knows she's aware his defense is partially a lie. Maybe there wasn’t time to ask Sara, but that was just a convenient excuse.

“Do you want me to drop it?” Anzu asks.

Pleased by her thoughtfulness, he pulls his arms away from his face. “No, it’s alright.”

She relinquished her grip on him and the two of them stare back up at the ceiling, together. In the quiet, they drift into the soothing ambiance radiating from the room and each other’s companionship. Nobody speaks again for a few minutes.

Anzu was the closest friend he’d ever had—probably would ever have. When he encountered things that felt new, like discovering new passions to inexplicably clicking with a mutual friend, she was solid. Beyond the loud voice and patterns and colors, Anzu was the most reliable person in his world. 

“She reminds me of someone,” Ranmaru says.

Anzu rolls over to face him. “Who?”

“Don’t laugh.”

The girl blows air into her cheeks and places her painted fingernails over her lips. He rolls his eyes at the exaggerated display.

“You remember the wrong number text I told you about?”

She pauses and bats her eyes around. Connecting the dots. “From, like, a month ago?”

“Yeah.”

“What about it?”

“I still talk to her.”

“H-her? What do you- you what?” Anzu blabbers. “You kept in touch?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?” She mimics his tone. “Say more!” 

“Okay…” Flustered, he swipes the hair out of his face. “Like you said. Pen pals. We kept it going. Started off small… but now we’re- uh.”

“Friends?”

“Sure.”

They stare at each other. The gears visibly turn in Anzu’s mind. He’s not sure what to expect, but the hearty, unserious laugh that comes out isn’t atypical of Anzu. The familiar approval of her reaction is soothing.

“Cool! Ohmygod, I want one!”

“She’s pretty great.”

“What’s her name?”

“It’s... we use our initials. Started off as a cute quirk, but we kept it. I call her S.”

Now, Anzu darts straight up in the bed. Ranmaru pulls himself up to meet her. 

“‘S’… RANMARU!” She reaches out and shakes his shoulders. “‘S’ like ‘SARA’!”

“I… drew the connection. But I highly doubt it’s her. That’s… it’s impossible.”

“How is that impossible?”

“It would be like winning the lottery. Extremely unlikely.”

“And it would be like winning the lottery for you. Because you liiiiiike her.”

His face brightens. “H-how’d you-? Ugh…”

“You’re not denying it…!” She sings.

He huffs. “Okay, she’s pretty-“

“Mmhmm…”

“She’s smart and pretty and we get along. Maybe a little crush. But I’m not gonna get obsessed over a girl I just met.”

“You might’ve not just met.”

“Okay. Anzu.” A note of seriousness returns to his force, which snaps Anzu back into place. “Not why I brought this up. I don’t feel like speculating over something that’s probably not real.”

“Okay! Fine. You’re no fun.”

“All I’m trying to say is… Sara reminds me a little of S. That’s it.”

“Well, if it is her,” Anzu states. “Then that would be the single most interesting thing to ever happen. Is it bad that I want it to happen?”

“Yes. Now let’s change the subject.”

She lets out a long breath, probably to dissipate the surplus energy the conversation builds up. After a few minutes and a distraction in the form of a favorite song, the topic is dropped entirely. It doesn’t leave Ranmaru as gracefully. As much as he tries to stuff it all down, he’s just as shaken as the first moment his suspicions began.

—-

Sara falls onto her bed, thoughts of her day still swirling in her head. She decides against trying to get back to studying. It was getting late and she could use the sleep. Sometimes it took a well-timed break to shake her from a school-induced stupor. 

Before bed, she does one last check of her phone. 

There’s a few texts from Joe, gushing over how happy he is that she got along with everyone. It’s predictable excitement—this was typically his reaction when she got along with someone he introduced her to. This time, there’s a little more merit and enthusiasm pumped into the messages. For once, it actually hits home for her too. The messages feel well-earned. 

A message comes from her dad, asking her to pick up paper towels on her way home. She winces and closes out. That would have to be an embellished “sorry, I didn’t see your text” in the morning.

And most recently, a text from R.

Her heart flutters. It hits her that she hasn’t texted them all day. Texting R had become one of the things she looked forward to most. 

hey s how was your day -r 

just back from seeing friends -r

That’s funny. I just got back from an outing, too. -S

—

A new note is jotted down beneath the former. Above states, “strawberry jam is both’s favorite”. He adds, “both of us hung out with friends on the same day”. 

Ranmaru drops the pen and scrambles his hands through his hair. His entire being feels at odds with what he was doing. At best, it was a waste of time and at worst, it was stalker-ish. As much as he tries, he can’t help himself from counting the similarities between S and Sara. The frequency of the thoughts only grew as the night went on and he was on track to never get to sleep if he didn’t at least put them to paper. On a notepad he hoped nobody would ever see, the thoughts were regurgitated in a messy scrawl.

Just as he told Anzu, the odds were impossibly low that Sara was S. Every logistical part of him insists that it can’t be true. Though as the notes pile up in front of him, it’s hard to ignore how the coincidences line up.

Chapter Text

Classes were out for the day and a cool late spring breeze flowed in through opened windows. It carried something sweet; the scent of fresh grass and blooming flowers. It was the spring day you dreamt of in the depths of winter. The rainstorms of early April had cleared away to a forecast full of sun and warmth as the month neared its end. The semester would be over in a few weeks and summer would begin. It would be such an idealistic and romantic afternoon—that was if Sara weren’t so frazzled.

She had lost her phone earlier that morning. She wasn’t sure when, but she realized in the middle of a block of consecutive classes. Maddeningly, she couldn’t do anything about it until after she finished class. Not only would her phone be expensive and bothersome to replace if she couldn’t find it, she felt disoriented without it. As much as she hated it, her phone felt like an extra appendage. Without it she was off-balance and uncertain.

The plan was to retrace her steps, from the start of her day. Of course, today had to be one of her busier days. It could be in about ten different places around campus. 

Collecting her belongings and pausing to ensure she wasn’t forgetting anything else, she set out to leave the building her last class was held in. She found the exit after a brief stroll. As she reaches for the handle, the door flies open from the other side. She leaps back. Standing on the other side, just as surprised, was Ranmaru. 

“Oh!” 

“Sara…?”

The boy takes a breath and his mouth pulls back in what she thinks is a curt smile. It was somewhere between a wince of surprise and a greeting. He grips an armful of books tighter. In place of holding her eye contact, he glances past her.

“Sorry. Didn’t see you.” His tone is casual, smoothing over the awkward edge a little. Light dismal in favor of tension. 

“Oh, that’s alright,” she laughs. In contrast, her tone definitely holds notes of awkwardness.

“How are ya?” The question is more of a casual courtesy than genuine curiosity.

“I’m good! Thanks,” she replies, in a manner just as succinct as the question calls for. 

“Good. Well. Nice seein’ ya, Sara.” 

She frowns at the cursory direction of the interaction. A tiny impulse within tugs at her.  

He nods, pulls his phone out of his pocket and steps around her. His fingers flick across the keyboard as he walks away. The chance encounter fizzles to an uninteresting end.

“Wait!” 

The impulse strengthens to a firm tug on the reins. The earlier rush to find her phone is sidelined. Suddenly, instances of stilted, fleeting interactions with other acquaintances occur to her. All the times she’s let people walk past her. She knows this is just a small, monotonous run-in, but it’s her lack of ability to turn it into something less passing nags her. The awareness of the personal theme was bitter. She couldn’t count how many times she was introduced to someone, connected a little and then let the connection fizzle away. All the people she’s kept herself from knowing. She didn’t want to repeat that cycle. Especially, she didn’t want Ranmaru to fall into the category of those she’s let fade into the haze.

He turns back around to face her. He taps at his phone a few more times before storing it away in his pocket. He waits, expectantly. “Yeah?”

She searches for something. Before she has a chance to sort it out, she starts speaking. The rush makes her words come out stuttered and clunky. “W-What’s the book you’re reading? Um, ‘Media Ethics: Moral Reasoning’- oh, a textbook… haha! Ethics… um. That for a class?”

He looked beyond lost. She’s hit the ball so far out of court that there really was nothing to do but stare in confusion. She winces, audibly. 

“…yep. It is.” Ranmaru directs a quick glance down at the book in his arms, then turns his attention back to her. His eyes pass over her face, studying her expression. “You okay, Sara? Really .”

“Oh… uh,” she babbles, again. “Um… I mean. A little frazzled.”

He begins to laugh. It transfers to her as a smile, then a sniffle, then she joins him in laughter. Tension spills away and the air clears.

“Hmm… couldn’t tell.”

She falls into a toothy grin. “Tease.”

“Why are you ‘frazzled’?” 

Sara huffs. “I lost my phone. I’m headed to look for it.”

“Been there. Broke mine recently.”

“Seriously? It sucks! So difficult to replace, too.”

“When’d you lose it?”

“This morning! I couldn’t look for it because I’ve class all day. It’s driving me insane.”

“Understandable. Need help finding it?”

She blinked. “You’re not busy?”

He shrugs. “Not going anywhere important.”

“I mean… yeah! If you want to tag along, that would be great.”

Excitement surged in her chest. This was something more interesting than a passing exchange. He wasn’t bad company, either.

“No problem.” He slipped his backpack off and stuffed his textbooks in. As he put it back on, a grunt and a huff followed. 

“I can carry it for you,” she offered.

His cheeks flushed and he refused to meet her eye. The reaction embarrassed her in return. She hadn’t meant to make him uncomfortable or demean him. 

“Sorry… I didn’t mean to patronize you.”

He shook his head. A hand reached up to press at his cheeks, as if that would erase the redness. “S’ okay. You’re not. Um…” He tugged at the straps of the bag, unsure where to go next. “If you wanted to, guess that’s fine…?”

She perked up and happily nodded. At first, she offered out of courtesy, but it occurred to her now that she wanted to carry his bag. She felt fluttery and helpful as she took it off his hands.

Wordlessly, the pair left the building and started to stroll across campus in the direction of the dining hall. It was the first stop in Sara’s day, so it seemed like a natural place to start their search. Shouldering the weight of them, she grew curious about the books from earlier.

“Seriously, I’m curious. What are the textbooks for? Which class?”

“You are?” He replies, passively skeptical. “They’re textbooks.”

“Media Ethics? This is gonna make me sound super lame but that does sound interesting to me.”

“That does make you sound a little lame,” he lightly jabs.

She laughs in disbelief. She didn’t know he was the type of person to make jokes like that. “Hey!”

“Well, predictably that one’s for my Media Ethics class.”

“Which entails…?”

He shakes his head and sniffles in amusement. “Ethical dilemmas journalists face when they research and write stories. Conflicts of interest, monetary bias… stuff like that. It can be interesting, but mostly it’s dull case studies.”

“Wait, you actually study journalism?”

“Yeah?”

“I didn’t realize it was actually your field of study! For some reason, I had it in my head that you just did the paper. That’s actually really cool.” He dismissively shrugs, so she doubles down. “No, it is! Seriously. And that class does sound interesting.”

He smiles shyly. “Thanks Sara.”

—-

He waited for his phone to buzz in his pocket, but nothing came. Not that the lack of a response from S confirmed or denied his theory, but it was food for thought. A few days ago, it occurred to him how easy it would be to solve the mystery of who S was. If she was Sara, all he had to do was text her in front of Sara. If Sara’s phone went off, the case would be closed… then he could figure out what to do with that information. If it didn’t, then he’d be able to move on knowing that S was just a cool stranger that he would probably never meet (even if the thought of that was super disappointing). He tried this when they first ran into each other earlier and sent two texts. Immediately after, he learned Sara had lost her phone.

He searched with her partially to find her phone and test the theory again. Though he didn’t need excuses to hang out with Sara. He was happy to help, just for the sake of helping.

Currently, he was a little distracted. Initially he thought Sara was asking about his major as a way of making small talk, but the realization that she was genuinely interested smacked him across the face. Even after another, longer conversation about his second textbook (the one for his even more bland Media Theory class), she was still asking questions. Most of the time, when he told people he studied journalism, he received bored courtesies. It wasn’t the most exciting or impressive of majors. Sara couldn't be more different. He wondered if she responded to everyone this way—because seriously, who does this?

“You know, your major and mine go together pretty well,” she said, as they approached the cafeteria. “Maybe you’ll do a piece on me someday—or another one, I guess!”

“Do they now?” He asks. “What’s yours again? Apologies if you told me.”

“Oh, I don’t think I have! It’s Political Science. Yuck, politics, I know. I’m not sure I want to be a politician. If I was, I don’t think it would be in a high level of government.”

He snickers. “Can’t imagine ya being a corrupt politician. Maybe a little grassroots campaign one day?”

“ Exactly! Don’t even get me started on that!”

“Would make for a great story.”

“It would need a great reporter.”

By now, they’ve stopped in the middle of the cafeteria. Students swerve around them in hurried coordinations. Progress on finding her phone is shelved. He wonders if he should remind her. Maybe a little selfishly, he doesn’t want to.

“A Political Science degree opens up a few different options, though. I could go to law school with it. Become a lawyer.”

“That would suit you, too.” He could see it easily. Sara immaculately dressed in a pressed suit, passionately arguing for a client’s acquittal. Anyone would be lucky to have a defense like her. “Remember me when you win your first big class action. Don’t get too annoyed when the media swoops in and I’ve gotta write a big story on it. Or maybe it would be a touching pro bono case and-“

He looks up at her and realizes how swept up he’s become. The clarity makes him recognize that he’s been droning on, talking a lot more than he’s used to. But he hasn’t remotely lost her. He has all of her. Her violet eyes shine bright, practically sparkling. She has this watery, fixated expression.

“‘Grassroots’, ‘class action’, ‘pro-bono’… who are you?” She says in a wobbly laugh of disbelief.

“Um…” He grits his teeth. “I dunno. We talk about it in class sometimes. Plus, TV.”

“It’s just-“ she snickers. “Nobody humors me like that. Or knows their stuff like you do. Would it be weird to thank you?”

“Well, nobody talks to me about journalism like you do, either. So, thank you .”

They stay standing there, giving the chance to absorb the feeling. Non-verbally reading people is not one of Ranmaru’s strengths, but he surprises himself with his understanding of Sara. Her reaction, and the look currently adorning her face, comes from a place of feeling heard. He’s beyond pleased, to be able to give back the feeling she’s gifted him.

“…Shouldn't we be looking for your phone?” Ranmaru breaks the silence. He regrets popping the bubble, but they’d veered way off track.

“Right!” She exclaims. “You’re right.”

They began to search the most likely places where she would’ve left it. Her morning cereal station, her usual table, the bathroom. When it isn’t in any of the most likely places, they split up. Sara askes the staff while he does a sweep of the rest of the tables. He works up the courage to ask a few people in the odd chance they picked it up. Eventually the dinner rush starts and students begin to pour in. The cafeteria was flooded with movement and noise. When all their efforts come up empty and the commotion makes it too difficult to continue the search, they meet back up outside the building. 

Sara groans, throwing her back against the exterior brick wall. She runs her hands through her bangs and frets over the possibility of her phone being gone. He empathizes and steadily reassures her. They would find it, even if it meant he had to look all night.

—-

With a steady voice to guide her, Sara is able to keep herself from becoming frantic when her phone isn’t in her first class. He suggests they move onto her second class of the day and assures her it’s probably there. She believes him, even though she knows they’re running out of places to look. If anything, she begins to make peace with the situation. Ranmaru’s presence is grounding; like a cool shower used to reset or a stroll through the park on a breezy day.

They cross through the quad, the expanse painted by the oranges and yellows of sunset. Student dorms lined either side of the walkway. Sara had never dormed; she lived in a rented house off-campus with a few other students. She learned Ranmaru was in the same boat, commuting from the house where he lived with his mother. Sara never got to experience that part of college life and sometimes wondered what it would’ve been like. From what she heard, it could either be a nightmare or the best part of college. Joe and Ryoko each lived in the dorms, so she still got the chance to visit. There always seemed to be a fun activity to join or friends to visit. That could’ve just been because it was them, ever the social butterflies, making the most out of college. Given the chance and the invitation, she would happily join in on dorm-life.

As they pass by the front of Joe’s first year building, one memory comes to mind.

“I had a water balloon fight here once.” She gestures at a tiny clearing of grass. “End of first year, when it was getting too hot to bear being here. Y’know, when the weak AC units in the buildings can’t keep up with the heat. Joe, my friend Ryoko, and a few of their friends drove out to a grocery store to grab balloons. Joe called me and begged me to skip my study group for the day. Eventually I relented. By the time I got here, there were about thirty kids crowded in the communal bathroom, all using the sinks to try and fill up the balloons.”

“How’d that go?” Ranmaru asks.

“Haha! Not very well. Water was everywhere. But everyone was laughing and having a good time. It was great, even if I was drenched before we got the chance to throw any balloons. Then we came out here and started the fight. They weren’t water balloons, just regular balloons, so they didn’t really break when they hit you. Finally, some RAs came out and started yelling at us to pack it up before they called campus security. Half of the kids scattered, while the rest of us stayed back and popped the balloons manually. It was stupid fun, but one of my favorite memories here.”

Ranmaru is quiet for a moment. The reserved smirk on his face is wistful, slightly downcast. “Sounds great. Type a’ trouble we should be getting into at this age, eh?”

Sara shrugs. “Yeah. I could probably use a bit more stupid trouble.”

“Same.” He brightens. “Wonder if dorming would’a brought us more of that.”

“Who knows?” She hums thoughtfully. “Hey, next time we get up to something like that I’ll see if you could tag along too. If that’s your scene.”

“Really? Thank you, Sara.” He snickers. “Don’t know if it’s exactly my scene, but…”

“It’s nice to be a part of?”

“Exactly.”

Their walk is quiet for a few minutes. The breeze rustling through the trees lulls her into a sense of calm. They pass familiar landmarks filled with nostalgic memories, all of which she itches to share. One day, maybe she would get the chance to tell all her stories, if she could come up with more ways to make sure this walk wouldn’t be their last. Maybe she’d have to lose her phone more often.

“This is my favorite spot on campus,” Ranmaru announces. 

He gestures at a gathering of trees at the crest of a small hill, situated beside a winding brick path that leads down to the academic buildings. The sunset drowsily dipping below the horizon in the distance paints a dreamy haze. Sara gasps, having never realized how picturesque the spot was. Now he was showing it to her and it was so special.

“I think it’s mine now too.”

The comment makes him shy. He nods and speaks softly. “I went hammocking here last week. First nice day of the spring. Anzu came too. Nothing much, nothing flashy. Just a perfect afternoon.”

“Wow… that really does sound perfect.”

“It was. It was one of my favorite memories here.”

It wasn’t the sunset, nor the beautiful spot she was looking at anymore. Sunlight glistened off him. It brought out shimmery strands of ivory all throughout his hair. When he looked at her, flecks of hazel and blue she’d never gotten close enough to notice were brought out in his irises. She could hardly breathe. You didn’t just find people like this, who sparkled in the dark. 

And he didn’t even know it.

—-

After one more classroom and two more buildings, Sara was losing hope. Ranmaru suggested retracing every step of her day. She initially struggles to form a good recreation of events, but gets it eventually. Energetically, she announces with more confidence than she has all day that she knows where it most likely is. 

“It should’ve occurred to me earlier, but it’s the last time I remember using it,” she states as they rush across campus. “It’s my favorite study spot. I stopped there between my morning and afternoon classes.”

In the depths of an old academic building, they find a tucked away nook fashioned with table and chairs. Lo and behold, a phone sits on the table. Sara sprints ahead, laughter pouring out of her. She reunites with her device like she would a lost puppy. She picks it up and gets out her excess energy with a (very adorable) victory dance. 

His hands hover over his pocket. S still hasn’t texted him back. They very well could be busy, but she usually was quicker to respond. It could be that the reason she didn’t text back was because she’d lost her phone and spent the last three hours looking for it. He could connect the dots right now. Send another text, when the phone was right in Sara’s hands.

“Aw, it’s dead.” Sara frowns at the screen. “Oh well. I guess I’ll just have to charge it when I get home.”

His hand drops to his side. There’s no disappointment, only lingering curiosity. The time he got to spend with her was miles more valuable than solving this mystery, right here, right now. He wouldn’t trade it for anything. After their day, he harbored unfamiliar confidence. This won’t be the last chance he got.

“Well…” Sara stuffs her phone in her pocket. She reaches up and fusses with a strand of hair. “I guess this is it. It’s getting late. We should both head home.”

“Right.”

They linger in the hallway, unable to break a hesitant gaze. They should leave, but he doesn’t want to. Neither of them wants to. Gradually, they pull away. A step back, a gentle wave, a laugh and finally, a goodbye.

—-

hi -r

hello -r

After getting back home to a charger, Sara has a chance to check her texts. There’s only a few she missed, but the two from R steal her attention. R never started conversations with just a “hello”. It usually was a continuation of another conversation, an unceremoniously introduced thought, or even was just a little longer. It almost worried her—could something be wrong? Did someone steal his phone?

Hi? You never start messages like that. -S

The response was instantaneous, as if he’d been waiting in the messenger.

s! sorry just testing somethin -r

Like? -S

nothing. phone stuff -r

Did you get your answer? -S

not so sure yet -r

They fell to their usual routine and Sara brushed off the off-kilter introduction with ease. A simple hello wasn’t worth overthinking. 

Chapter Text

Ughhh I’m so bored. No idea what to do with myself. Are you still up? -S

Ranmaru was still up despite it being past midnight, which was usual for him but unusual for S. When you only know someone over text, it’s really easy to notice little patterns about them—if you’re Ranmaru, at least. He had gotten used to her rarely being up past 10:00 pm. If she was, it was always to study. She even had a tendency to turn off her phone an hour before to avoid “sleep disrupting blue light”. Needless to say, her habits were much healthier than his.

They’d already each signed off for the night, so he wasn’t expecting to hear from her any time soon. Yet, here she was. He pauses his video game and scoops up his phone. It was nearly one in the morning. She was up late and listless—that didn’t sound like studying. Was she okay?

i’m up -r

why are you up ms bed-by-10pm -r

mom say you could stay up past your bedtime? -r

Har. Har. Har. -S

I just can’t sleep. This is the first time I’ve truly had free time in months and I don’t know what to do with it. How sad is that? -S

not sad -r

you get so into the routine of bein busy it’s weird to have it disrupted. doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you -r

Thank you R… -S

I put all my energy into school. When I’m not doing that, I’m usually around others. It’s like I don’t have enough space for free time anymore. I forget how to be alone sometimes. It’s that part that makes me a little sad… even if you say it’s not sad. -S

You can relate? -S

His fingers hesitated over the keyboard. Ranmaru understood being busy with school, but he was never so busy that he didn’t have free time. He had gotten really good at being alone. That was one of the perks of being so withdrawn for so many years. In a sense, you get to know yourself very well. You know all the ways to stay entertained, to fill time. Questions of “knowing what to do with yourself” are still present, but in a way very different and more existentially dreadful than S was referring to. 

Ranmaru didn’t need to tell S any of this, but he wanted to. She made him more loose-lipped (or at least a loose-texter). There were very few people that had that effect on him. Something that was sad? That was one of the reasons why he initially suspected S could be Sara.

not exactly. school thing yes but even then. you get free time if you’re not doin much else with your time. im pretty introverted-r

good at being on my own. i guess -r

can sympathize tho -r

yk pros and cons to everything. sometimes feels like i got too much free time. I know what to do alone not so much around people -r

Thank you. You’re right. Pros and cons. -S

I’m sure that’s not as true as you think it is. You’re pretty great at talking to me if that’s worth anything (which I think it is). -S

Plus, now that I’m talking to you, I’m not bored anymore. I’m never bored when I get to talk to you. Thanks for that too. -S

And don’t get me wrong, I’m not the most extroverted person either. Is there something in between? Sometimes I feel like I’m meant for a quieter life than I have. -S

ambiverted I think -r

and thanks that means a lot -r

you’re great to talk to too-r

That sounds right. -S

And I’d hope so! That’s good to hear. -S

you’ll find ways to be alone and have a good time doing it. you haven’t lost your ability to be alone just cuz you’re busy. it definitely doesn’t mean you don’t know who you are (if you’re thinking that. i hope you’re not thinking that) -r

You’re keeping me from thinking that. -S

You’re the best, R. -S

Wow. I responded to a random number and I got a therapist to dump my problems onto. Sorry. -S

hey it goes 2 ways -r

you’re there for me too. i don’t mind. doesn’t feel like im a therapist -r

you’re a friend -r

Friend?? -S

He cringes at himself and braces for rejection. He got carried away. From his end, it felt like they’ve been friends for weeks. Maybe it was presumptions and silly to feel that way over a faceless person he only knew over the phone. They never said they were friends and maybe he was about to find out there was a reason for that. It stung already. A lot.

too much? -r

No no no! You ARE a friend. Of course you’re a friend. -S

I’m glad you said so. -S

thank god lol -r

Thank god! -S

maybe you need to distract yourself -r

late night hours can bring out introspection. too much sometimes lol -r

Tell me about it. -S

I don’t know what to distract myself with. Already browsed through some streaming services and nothing looked appealing. -S

Do you have any recommendations? I could use one! -S

Of course he had recommendations. Sometimes it felt like all he did was watch TV shows and movies—in high school that was even more so the case. What to recommend was the question.

what do you like -r 

Well… mystery, dramas, stuff like that. Been on a detective show kick for a while. Honestly anything that isn’t horror, haha! -S

wow we got rlly similar taste -r

Of course we do. You’re just cool like that. -S

Something that was a mystery? How a stranger’s flattery could have such an effect on him. He took a long, deep breath. 

Not only did Ranmaru have a suggestion, he had the perfect suggestion. It was his favorite show, and it sounded right up her alley. It was exactly as she described liking: a detective drama with heavy elements of mystery. The show would be pretty pulpy if it weren’t for how much care the creators poured into it. The story follows a detective’s journey after her partner disappears under supernatural circumstances. Rather than following an episodic structure like most shows in its genre, the plot was concentrated around the lead, Agent Amari’s never-ending, desperate quest to uncover what happened to her companion. A series of mysteries unfold before them that put her investigative skills to the test. It smoothly blended together genre tropes and an original premise in a beyond-satisfying way. A little romance was sprinkled in too, which Ranmaru guiltily considered one of his favorite parts of the show.

The show meant more to him than words could say. He found it at a time when he really needed it. Never before or since did he find a show that had him from start to finish. He got the intense feeling when he watched it that it was made just for him. Every plot beat, every piece of dialogue, every triumph and devastating loss felt specially catered for his enjoyment. If there was a show that captured him , that would be it.

For as much as he liked it, he was hesitant to recommend it. When he first watched it, he not so subtly begged anyone who would listen to watch it. It was a relatively obscure show that was hardly a fiscal success. He didn’t want to be the only one to watch the show and support it. He wanted to talk about it to someone . Get the thoughts he had about it tumbling around in his head out for someone else to hear, to relate to. Of course, nobody ever takes suggestions seriously. He was still the only person he ever knew to watch it.

She was asking, though. He just wouldn’t get his hopes up this time.

far encounters -r

sounds right up your alley -r

you don’t have to give it a shot but if you do -r

let me know -r

—-

Give Far Encounters a shot she did. Sara didn’t know what to expect at first. She's always been one to take suggestions seriously. It was particularly special coming from him (for reasons she was too tired to identify that night). She wasted no time; watching the first episode that night.

If she knew what she was getting herself into she would’ve put the show aside and waited for the next time she had an entire day to herself. The show was consuming. From the very first scene, she was sucked into the atmospheric, brilliant universe of the show. Nothing she watched before ever made her feel like everything was sliding into place in her brain, clicking perfectly. She questioned if she had ever truly loved a show before it.

The first three half-hour long episodes flew by in what felt like minutes. She couldn’t take her eyes off the screen. The first episode’s twists made her audibly gasp at times. By the time she was into the second episode, she physically reacted by leaping in place, messing her hands through her hair, and all the likes. She only stopped that night because she needed to. It was nearing three in the morning and an aching body and heavy lids begged her to rest. Thankfully the next day was a Saturday. The first thing she did was turn on the show and didn’t stop for anything besides quick meals and bathroom breaks until the sun went down. 

If it weren’t for how much the show fulfilled her, she’d consider it very unhealthy with the routine it had her fall into. She found herself squeezing in episodes or even single scenes every chance she got. Between classes, during lunches, pushing back bedtime for one more episode. She laughed out loud in study spots and cried in crowded cafes. 

She saw herself most in the detective’s missing partner, Agent Lee. The character was depicted mostly in bittersweet flashback scenes or the rare gut-wrenching cutaway. She was resilient and brave: someone who tried everything and did everything they could for those around them. She was anchored to a tragic fate, their ultimate outcome uncertain and ever-changing. Despite everything, she never wanted to be saved; crushingly, she craved agency she could never have. Sara’s connection to the character, paired with the lead’s unrelenting mission to reach her partner touched her so intensely. She wondered if she would ever meet anyone who cared for her so undyingly. Who’d love her, who’d walk beside her, who’d find her no matter what.

It was hard to believe that it was R who recommended it. She grew a little too over-emotional at the thought of him now. 

Sara didn’t have much of someone who’d become such a notable part of her life. She had the first letter of his name, an age, an occupation, some likes and dislikes, and a wealth of stories. But this was something different.

You can learn a lot about a person through the things they like. The media we love is a morsel of us. If this was something as special to R as it was special to her, then it was her window into who he was.

—

Anzu and Ranmaru swung by the cafeteria to get lunch, only to decide it was too busy and too nice of a day to be cooped up inside. They put together sandwiches and made the trek across campus. The familiar scenic gathering of trees situated atop the hill before the academic buildings waited for them. Lacking a picnic blanket or the hammocks they usually brought with them, they spread out on the grass. 

The two chatter for a little while before a lull in conversation allots Ranmaru a chance to check his phone. A text from S waits at the top of his home screen. Heart skipping, he swipes open the message. 

A few minutes must pass before Ranmaru snaps back to reality. Anzu peers at him curiously.

“Did you finally get Sara’s number?”.

He hardly glances up from his screen as he finishes off a final message to her. “Huh?”

“You totally did!”

He put down his phone and addressed his friend. Internally he has to run back over the last few words passed between them and reprocess them. His face reddens and his breath grows shallow as realizes.

“No- What? Anzu…!” He staggers. “It’s not Sara.”

Her brows furrow. “It’s not?”

“No. Why’d you think it was?”

“Because who would else have you looking at your phone like that? God, Ranmaru I could’ve poured a cold bucket of water over you and your concentration wouldn’t have been broken.” She scrutinizes his flushed face. “Maybe I should’ve…”

He groans. “Why do I put up with you?”

She flashes him a pouty frown. “Whatever. Who was it really?” 

A hearty eye roll. “It’s S.”

“So it is Sara.”

Ranmaru opens his mouth to retort, but quickly closes it. His mouth stays shut beyond letting out a huff. He falls back down to the grass, trading an altered position for a deflated one.

“Wait… what’s wrong?”

“Not a big deal,” he dismisses.

Nothing was wrong. Anzu wasn’t even being all that pushy, only interested. In actuality, she was a little more toned down than she usually was, knowing the topic territory they tread. Her discretion was appreciated. Lately, he was just more sensitive than usual.

“I just don’t want to get my hopes up. We don’t know if it’s her. Probably isn’t.”

The mental image of the notebook full of clues sitting on his desk at home reminded him of where he stood. He combed through evidence and connections as if he was a detective cracking a case. Among the pages were more similarities than differences. If S wasn’t Sara, it would be a baffling set of coincidences. Yet nothing would be concrete until he took the initiative to test and prove his theory. The thought constantly occupied his mind. It served as a distraction from other parts of his life. All of it wasn’t good for him. 

“I understand. I think,” Anzu expresses. “I mean, as much as I can. This is uncharted territory. I’ve never been through what you’re going through…” She trails off into a giggle. “As much as I’d love to go through it.”

He side eyes her.

“Come on! You gotta admit it sounds cool.”

“ Sounds cool. Maybe for you it would’a been. Guess you gotta start sending wrong number texts.”

“Don’t test me! I’ll get out my phone and start texting half the numbers in the area code to see if anyone responds. Maybe there’s a cool, mysterious college girl waiting for me-“ She stops herself mid sentence, holding her hands out in front of her. “ Okay! Sorry. That’s besides the point.”

“Yeah,” he says through clicked-together teeth. “Definitely don’t do that.”

Anzu rolls her eyes. “Don’t act like I wouldn’t have awesome penpal game.”

“ Anyways ,” he continues. “I gotta put it all to rest, sooner or later.”

“As in?”

“Find out if it’s Sara. Deal with what comes after once I got that figured out.”

Anzu hummed. “Well, that doesn’t sound too hard. In execution, at least. Don’t take this the wrong way—this isn’t me teasing you—but I’m really surprised you haven’t just asked for her number yet. You’d know then. Even more so, I’m shocked you don’t know stuff like S’ full name…! Couldn’t you ask her or, like, ask for a picture? You’ve gotta know each other well enough by now to exchange info like that.”

“I know. You’re right. It’s getting ridiculous. All I gotta do is ask the right questions. At first, not asking for her number was just forgetting or not thinking about it. Last chance or two I had? I got distracted by somethin’ or the other. Or I got cold feet. With S? I don’t even know. We got into a routine of using our initials. Keeping it simple. Initially it was for safety, same with other personal information. Then it just stuck. Maybe, in both cases, I just don’t wanna ruin a good thing.”

“Yeah… but in both cases it could lead to a better thing. Whether Sara is S or not, I think there’s good outcomes on both ends. You said it best yourself. Maybe we figure it out, then we deal with the ‘what if’s.”

He chews on his lip. Anzu waits for his response, but he’s at a loss for words.

“Shit, ask S to meet up! She’s close-ish, right? Same area code at least. You know by now that she’s not a murderer. What could go wrong?”

He had a wealth of options when it came to confronting everything. Much of it was easier said than done, but he was growing tired of hesitation and self doubt holding him back. It just depended on when he was going to take the step.

“I’m gonna figure something out,” he declares. “Soon. I’ve got to.”

—-

Soooooooo -S

so? -r

I watched Far Encounters. -S

wait seriously?? -r

holy shit -r

Haha! Why are you so shocked? -S

cuz nobody ever takes recommendations seriously. ppl say they’ll watch something but never do -r

u might be the first person to ever check out my recommendation. let alone that show -r

No one’s ever taken one of your recommendations? -S

don't think so -r

Shit well I’m glad I’m the one who changed that. Glad that changed at all. That’s bullshit! -S

I take recommendations very seriously. -S

Especially if they come from you. -S

A minute or two passes between responses.

oh -r

why? -r

Because it’s important to me. -S

I want to know you. -S

Another brief, nerve-wracking pause.

idk what to say -r

can’t stop smiling though -r

The next few texts come in very quick succession.

so what did you think?? -r

hopefully you liked it if you’re talking to me about it. i’d hope you wouldn’t text me just to tell me you hated it -r

how far did you watch? -r

when did you watch it? -r

Woah haha! -S

shit sorry -r

Excited? -S

…a little -r

i’ve never known anyone else who watches it -r

Means a lot to you doesn’t it? -S

maybe -r

yes. -r

Well it meant A LOT to me too! Like seriously. Anyone who didn’t listen to you about this show is a total idiot. -S

It felt like the show was made for me. -S

I can’t believe it’s not more popular! It’s perfect. -S

So I binged the first season in the last few days. I started it the night you recommended it. I just finished the first season finale. I’ve been waiting to text you about it until I had something to say but now I feel like I have too much to say about it! -S

well if you got time i’d love to hear your thoughts -r

I’ve got all night. -S

good -r

the first seasons finale was devastating -r

couldn’t get over it for days -r

It made me cry! My dad came home in the middle of it and he was worried someone died or something by the way I was reacting. -S

Agent Amari’s breakdown when she gets so close to finding her Agent Lee and she slips out of reach again was gut wrenching. -S

that scene. -r

this is a little corny but Amari’s probably my favorite character of all time -r

i see a lot of myself in her so that finale was a lot -r

You do?? -S

The chat devolved into a Far Encounters discussion room. The topic began on the season finale before drifting to analysis of earlier episodes, character motivation, the show’s third-season cancellation and everything in between. Time flew by and hours passed before the both of them were too tired to keep their eyes open any longer. They promised to continue the conversation the next day.

—-

Sara was in the middle of an episode of Far Encounters. Agent Amari was scribbling in a notebook. She stopped and started abruptly, tearing out pages and mumbling to herself. A pile of half written speeches spread out in an array around her desk. She was trying to figure out what she’d say to Agent Lee when she found her. 

The knocking on the door didn’t come to her attention until it had picked up dramatically. Her phone rang with a call from Joe. She scrambled off the couch and fumbled with the remote to pause the episode. Catching a glimpse at the time on her phone, she winced. Joe and Anzu were coming to get her today for a planned hangout. Initially, Ranmaru was invited but something came up. Right now, she was grateful he wasn’t coming. Coming off a morning binge of Far Encounters, she neglected properly getting ready. Her makeup was rushed, her outfit was thrown together and she didn’t even want to think about what her hair looked like. It was bad enough that Anzu and Joe had to see her like this, but the thought of Ranmaru seeing her made her shrivel up. 

She collected herself and rushed to the door. It swung open to reveal her friends standing there with their fists still raised. She laughs at their absurdity.

“Is busting down my door a team effort?”

“Apparently it is when you won’t answer!” Joe retorts.

“What were you doing?” Anzu stands on her toes and tries to peer into the living room.

Sara steps aside and gestures them in. “Watching a show. I lost track of time. You guys can sit while I throw on shoes.”

Anzu bounds into the living room. She kicks off a stylish pair of sandals. A canary yellow raincoat is deposited on a coat rack. She remarks on the ladder as she plops down on the couch. “You might want a raincoat. It’s pouring!” 

“Noted! Thanks Anzu.”

As Joe passes, he flashes her a scrutinizing look. “Sara Chidouin lost track of time?”

“The show’s really good,” Sara defends as she pops open the coat closet in search of a long buried raincoat. 

“What were you-“ Anzu starts but her voice gets cut off with an excited gasp. “ Far Encounters?! No way!”

Sara pulls herself out of the closet with an old raincoat in hand. She follows Anzu’s gaze to the TV, where the paused show remains on screen. Anzu bubbles up with excitement, bouncing in place on the couch. Just when Sara thinks she’s about to meet another Far Encounters fan (according to R, they’re pretty rare), she throws a curveball. 

“That’s Ranmaru’s favorite show ever!” Anzu exclaims. “God, I’ve been meaning to watch it for so long. Is it as good as he says it is?”

Sara lags. Maybe she does know two Far Encounters fans. And they both happen to be people she’s always trying to find excuses to talk to. It was kind of perfect—especially since it was apparently both of their favorite shows. Ranmaru goes up about three ticks on her personal inventory of “coolness”.

“He watches it?”

“You should ask him about it, Sara,” Joe interjects.

“For sure. He’d be thrilled!” Anzu adds. “He’s been especially set on it recently. I guess he recommended it to someone, so it’s on his mind again.”

“…who?” Sara prods. “Who did he recommend it to?”

The girl purses her lips, as if trying to decide how much information to reveal. Sara begins to nervously fumble with the jacket in grasp. 

“Not super sure how to delve into it,” Anzu finally answers. “It’s this person he texts. Kind of like an online friend… but more like a penpal? They only talk over text-“ She puts a hand over her mouth. “I mean… ask him if you want more info. I’m not sure how much he wants me to share.”

“Wait. Just one more question?” Sara’s tone is more pleading that she intends. It’s hard to choke down when it feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room.

“What is it?”

“When did he recommend it?”

Anzu taps her fingers over her chin considerately. “Probably… a few days ago? Apparently they’ve been talking about it together—he said they just stayed up last night and talked about it. Isn’t that fun? Maybe you could ask…”

As Anzu continued on, Sara’s concentration slipped and the girl’s words became subtle background noise. Understanding cascaded through her mind like a forceful tidal wave. The intensity dizzied her, making her knees weak and her heart stutter against her rib cage. Every obvious detail was apparent to her all at once. Room for deniability rapidly shrunk as she considered more details. In the end, there was nothing left but a sure fact.

Sara tried to suck air into her lungs, but the breath came out as a shakey, broken gasp. The coat slipped from her hands and landed in a heap at her feet.

A pair of supportive hands landed on her shoulders. She didn’t see him come over, but he must’ve noticed something was off almost instantaneously. Joe stood at her side. “You okay, Sara? You don’t look so great.”

“Just… just dizzy.”

Anzu jumps up from her seat and supports Sara’s other side. If her friends notice the impeccable timing of her dizzy spell, they don’t comment on it. As they sit her down, she can't help but laugh.

No wonder Ranmaru always felt so familiar.

Chapter Text

Despite second year coming to a close in a matter of weeks, this was Ranmaru’s first house party. It wasn’t exactly a bucket list item and getting ready stirred up some mild anxiety, but now that he was here, he was settling in. The house of one of Joe and Anzu’s clubmates was big and not overcrowded. Party music and chatter created a pleasant cocktail of a friendly, social atmosphere that he felt well-equipped to handle. The possibilities of the night stretched before him and he actually felt himself get excited in anticipation. Especially since he had a solid friend group to stick with. 

Anzu had trotted off to grab drinks from the makeshift kitchen-counter-bar, leaving him perched up against a living room wall with Joe. The man was in the midst of enthusiastically recounting a college story. He did a good job of pausing to involve Ranmaru, but for the most part, he was carrying the conversation. A trait about Joe he’d come to appreciate. Ranmaru was a much better listener than he was a conversationalist. He’d grown to like a lot of things about the brunette.

He felt a little guilty that he wasn’t giving Joe’s story all of the attention it deserved. Instead, he was split between listening and watching the door. With every person that came in, he spared a glance. Simultaneously, shreds of disappointment and nerves mounted every time it wasn’t the person he was looking for.

A hand fell on his shoulder. Joe had dropped the story sometime in the short time he was too distracted to notice. His friend’s eyes passed from the door to him. Ranmaru felt like folding in on himself. Joe knew. Another trait about Joe that wasn’t bad but certainly didn’t serve him well right now. When he first met Joe, he immediately recognized how similar he was to his own best friend. As he got to know him, he recognized a few key differences. One of them being that Anzu was often more in her own world much more than Joe was. Things that got past Anzu wouldn’t get by him.

“She’ll be here in a few, man,” Joe says.

“I’m not-” Ranmaru shakes his head. No point in lying. “Yeah, I’ve been looking out for her.”

“She’s excited to see you tonight too.”

Ranmaru’s laugh overflowed with nerves. “You think so?”

Joe scoffs. “I know so!”

“I… I don’t really know what to do with that,” he replies, heart in his throat. 

“This is gonna sound like the most basic advice I can give, but just be you. She likes what you got going on.” 

The door pops open again and in strides Sara. If Ranmaru weren’t already at a risk of a heart attack from Joe’s very earnest encouragement, the sight of her just about does it. Her hair, which he’s only ever seen worn up, cascades in coppery waves down her back. She wears a short, form-fitting pine green dress. Gold accessories and a pair of strappy heels elevate the entire look. 

He brushes clammy hands over his black button up. Sara isn’t overdressed for the occasion, but he immediately wishes he’d put more effort in. 

“Go get her, man!” Joe gently pushes a hand against his shoulders. 

He practically stumbles forwards. The entire way over, he tries and fails to come up with something to say. The only thing he has by the time he’s in front of her is embarrassing, but he needs to say it.

“Wow, Sara… You look gorgeous tonight.”

He surprises himself with the smoothness of the delivery. Despite himself, it feels natural to tell her how beautiful she is. She’s just as surprised. Her lips part, her jaw subtly hanging open. 

“ Ohmygod… ” She murmurs so quietly he hardly catches it. She pauses for a breath before her eyes skate over him. “Thank you. You look pretty… or I mean handsome?”

She finishes her compliment with an adorable nervous laugh. He’s actually got her tongue tied. “Either work great with me.”

“Smooth tonight, aren’t we?”

“Only for you.” Again, he doesn’t intend to come across so flirtatiously. The words just come out. He’s certainly not going to fight it.

A jubilant moment where it feels like the rest of the room fades envelopes them. It’s warm and new.

Sara’s gaze falls to her feet. She hums, considering her heels. “I wonder what the etiquette for shoes indoor is here?”

Another thing Ranmaru noticed as soon as he approached Sara was the height her heels gave her. She already had an inch or two on him in flats. His height was always something that he worried about and the heels made the difference between them much more drastic. Right now, any insecurity he had around it mysteriously morphed into something else. He liked standing next to her like this. 

“No, no keep them on,” he replied, a little too quick. “Everyone’s got their shoes on.”

“Oh! No problem then.”

Together, they strolled back into the living room and met Joe and Anzu. His best friend awkwardly nursed four shot glasses between her fingers. She hurriedly passed them off between the group before any slipped from her grasp.

Normally Ranmaru wasn’t a big drinker, but tonight he readily accepted the alcohol. 

—-

The heels only made it halfway through the night. They sat on the edge of a pool, their owner beside them with her feet in the water. The pool lapped up and occasionally soaked her dress, but she didn’t mind. The night’s dewey air, coupled with the warmth of intoxication made the cool water pleasant. The backyard was alive with activity. Twenty or so college kids had thrown caution to the wind and jumped in the pool in their party clothes. Among them were her friends. 

Joe and Anzu were a few shots deeper than her and Ranmaru, but everyone was buzzed. Sara basked in the euphoric sensation of light intoxication. She wasn’t drunk, but tipsy enough for her inhibitions to lower and everything around her to feel just right. It felt like she could do anything tonight.

Even tell Ranmaru everything. 

He hadn’t left her side for a minute since she walked in the door. Even with her sitting the pool out, he still hung by her. She got accustomed to his company very quickly. If he tried to swim away, she might just jump in after him. 

Together, they watched Joe and Anzu fool around in the water. They were in the middle of a game of Marco Polo with a few other drunk partiers. Anzu was it, stumbling around the shallow end. When she found Joe, her eyes flew open and she tackled him with a clumsy hug. 

Sara turned to Ranmaru, probably to comment on the connection between their best friends, but she completely lost her train of thought when she caught sight of him. Everyone’s prettier when you’re drunk, but even dead sober, nobody’s prettier than him. She didn’t even care that she was staring (let a girl stare!). Under the pool light’s blue iridescence and starlight, he looked dreamy. This was the face of the person she’d connected with every night over text for months. The odds had to be one in a million. How impossibly lucky she was.

He notices her staring and gives a quizzical look. “What?”

“Nothing.” Displacing the attention before he can double down, she swirls her feet in the water. “It’s so hot out tonight.”

“You could come in.” He entices with an eager and lightly teasing smile. Ranmaru was more expressive when he was intoxicated. Yet another reason her gaze lingered on him longer tonight.

“I’m not a good swimmer,” she says.

“Right. I knew that.”

Of course he did, even though she had never told him that in person. It was funny how obvious it was, now that she knew. She wondered how many times the truth had been right in front of their faces.

The moment would come to tell him, but she wasn’t sure when that would be. It took her a while to process everything and she wasn’t ready to derail the momentum they had going tonight. For now, she just enjoyed noticing all the ways they already knew each other so well.

A group of boys holler just behind Sara. It’s loud and close enough to warrant her attention, but she hardly has time to turn around before someone collides with her. The body stumbles over her roughly, scrambling legs sending a knee into her head and shoulder as they lose their balance. She goes down with them, straight into the deep end. A lungful of water is gasped in. Her chest floods with panic and her body locks up. 

It’s only a few long seconds of watery terror before arms wrap around her side and hoist her to the surface. It's impossible to breathe for a frightening moment before she coughs up water and gets a gasp of air. Reliant upon the support of her rescuer, she splutters. As she tunes back in, she catches the middle of a stern reprimand.

“…fuck’s wrong with you? Can’t just go around not lookin’ where you’re headed.”

Once she’s collected herself enough, she realizes it’s Ranmaru who came after her. It’s a mildly surprising reveal, considering the bite his tone delivers. The boy who knocked her into the water looks apologetic enough, but his friends are smug and argumentative. 

“Hey man, it’s not that big a deal,” one of the friends blabbers.

“Yeah bro, you’re sitting by a pool! Maybe you-“ another adds, only to be cut off midsentence.

Ranmaru’s face contorts in an alarming concoction of rage and desperation. It’s not something you’d want to be on the receiving end of, even if you’re a careless, drunk college boy. 

“She can’t swim, so it is a pretty big fuckin’ deal,” he snaps.

“I’m not good at swimming,” Sara counters, quiet enough that only he can hear it.

She watches his face soften a little, only for her. He spares a quick look at her, rolling his eyes. She places a hand over her mouth, disguising a snicker. 

The boys shift towards looking for the opportunity to drop the issue. Clearly, they don’t entirely “get” what their friend did is wrong, but it’s not an argument worth having. Ranmaru and Sara silently agree on that.

“Sorry,” one guy half-heartedly says.

The boy who knocked her in responds genuinely apologetically. “I’m really sorry you guys.”

Sara shrugs it off with a pointed look. “Whatever.”

“Watch where you’re going next time,” Ranmaru warns. As they walk away, he spits, “assholes.”

Most of the pool, counting out party-goers too drunk to notice, is still fixed on the scene. Joe and Anzu have dropped their game and start to swim over, but Sara waves them off. Soon everything’s blown over and the adrenaline dies down. Ranmaru paddles the two of them to the edge of the pool. 

“You can hold onto the edge?” He asks her.

“Yeah, no problem.”

With one hand on the edge, she uses the other to nurse the bruise on her head. She winces as her fingers brush over a tender spot. 

“Shit, you okay?” 

Ranmaru snaps back to alert again. He reaches out, ready to support her again if needed. Endeared, she shakes her head. Perhaps emboldened by leftover adrenaline, she instead laces her fingers with his outstretched hand. The intense emotional whiplash of the last few minutes makes a clear impression on his reaction. He lags. A dropped jaw open wordlessly turns to an upturned, slightly pouty lip. He can’t seem to look at her for longer than a few seconds, but continuously tries to push himself to do so. An infatuated giggle pours from Sara as she squeezes his hand. 

“I’m okay. His knee bashed into my head and shoulders, but it’ll just bruise. Thanks for noticing I needed help, though.”

“Those assholes,” he grumbles, clearly still heated. “And of course I noticed.”

“You looked like you were gonna kill them!”

“Felt like I could’ve.”

“Geez…” She shakes her head. “Well, now that I’m in the water, it’s super nice. I wish I could swim around a little, but I don’t trust myself sober, let alone with a few shots in my body.”

“Fair.”

“You’re a pretty strong swimmer?”

He nods. “Yeah. Mom thought it was an important thing to teach me.”

“Well, clearly my mom didn’t feel the same. I didn’t start swimming until I was 14. Joe tried to teach me one summer but I never got far.”

On the coattails of shared laughter, Sara slips in a joke. “You could tote me around, I guess!” 

His eyes widen, but he has no trouble with his response. “Guess I could. If ya really wanna swim around.”

“S-seriously?” She chokes. Sara fully expected him to take the suggestion for what it was, a joke, but instead she had an offer. 

Now he looks a bit more unsure. “Sure.”

As much as it made her heart pound against her ribcage, she wasn’t going to say no. With an enthusiastic yes, he turns around and she wraps her arms around his shoulders. At first, the position is awkward and the proximity is nerve-wracking to say the least. Then Ranmaru paddles out and twirls Sara in a little circle. The water swirls around her, eliciting a pleasant bout of playfulness and laughter. 

—-

Them, together. The night centered around their dynamic, wholly one on one. They stayed in the pool until they were pruney and cold. The residual heat from the day dried them as they sat on the lawn. Conversation flowed simply, uncomplicated by accompanying worry. With her, he just was. He didn’t need to bother himself with unnecessary second guessing tonight. He liked himself like this, and it seemed like she did too. 

A passing comment about food led them to set their sights on a late night snack. They migrated inside for a snack table they caught a glimpse of at the beginning of the party. In a major disappointment, they found the food picked over. The remaining selections looked unappetizing.

“Ugh. Nothing here is good,” Sara complains.

“Nope.”

“I’m so hungry, though.”

He scours the leftovers for a solution. Emptied platters and bowls litter the table. Crumbs and picked over desserts were about the closest thing left to edible. At best, a charcuterie board offers suspicious-looking chunks of cheese. He starts moving around some of the dirty dishes. A large centerpiece sits in the middle of the table, and when pushed aside, he uncovers a fruit skewer. Previously hiding on a plate behind the decor, it’s perfectly in-tact and full of ripe, juicy assortments of sweet fruits. As enticing as it was, he wanted Sara to have it.

Ranmaru picks up the skewer and holds it out for her taking. “Found this for ya.”

Her eyes sparkle and she snatches it from his hand. Only when she goes to take a bite does she hesitate. “Wait, no. You’re hungry too. You should have it.”

“No, you have it,” he adamantly encourages.

She plucks a grape off the top of the assortment. “At least take a finders fee.”

He starts to chuckle. “‘Finders fee?’” 

“What?” 

“Nothing, sorry,” he waves her off. “Funny choice of words. I’m not that hungry, you can just have it.”

“But-“

“Eat the skewer, Sara.”

In concession she takes a bite, sliding grapes and strawberries and kiwi into her mouth. Despite Sara’s apparent belief that taking the last snack is some great betrayal, he couldn’t care less. A delighted, grateful smile and an affectionate shoulder bump is good enough for him.

Guests had started clearing out and catching rides home by now. They considered aiming towards the same, but Anzu and Joe had all but disappeared. The backyard, now quiet and virtually empty, was the next most appealing thing. A tiny cabana in the back corner of the yard was now freed up. A stroll over turned into a giddy jog when Sara set sights on a cozy hanging swing seat. She jumped in a relaxed against plushy upholstery. A hand patted the space beside her. Certainly, sitting next to her would be a tight squeeze in a swing hardly big enough to be considered “made for two”, but he didn’t want to turn her down. He scooted in. The seat was very comfortable, but it was such a tight squeeze that their shoulders brushed together every time he moved. 

They took turns making the seat gently rock. Sara enjoyed her skewer and he wished—just a little—that he had taken her up on the offer of a bite. Apparently Sara possesses a sixth sense for mind reading, because she stops eating and meets his eye. An impish glint in her eye is the only warning before she holds the skewer out in front of his face.

“You know you want a bite…” she teases.

He puffs. “I don’t.”

Now, she leans in even closer. Between them is a fruit skewer and a few inches of air that rapidly tenses under the proximity.

“Take a bite.”

He attempts to redirect his attention and calm down by setting sights on the ground. Trying to think of anything else other than how close she is and how much he wished he had the courage to do anything about it. 

Sara challenges him. “Come on! Have a taste.”

His eyes lock back onto her, magnetically. Her joking is trivial, but he can’t take it as such. It’s been a night full of build up. Tension, flirtation and attention. He knows he’s not the only one that’s felt that, nor has it been accidental on either of their parts. Now she takes this moment, in a beautiful string-light lit cabana, sitting inches away from him, to relentlessly tease. Between tonight and the entire time he’s gotten to know her, it’s been boiling over. There’s only so much he can take.

His gaze flit down to her lips and he breaks. A hand reaches out to push the stupid skewer out of the way. The other lands on her cheek and he closes the distance. He stops an inch away from her lips and silently pleads. Under trembling touch, he feels her head slowly begin to nod. The second he has her consent, he presses his lips to hers.

Their kiss was short and fluttery. The overwhelming culmination of pressure and anxiety swimming around in his head, combined with inexperience keeps it so. As brief as it is, it fills in the world with color and excitement. He never would’ve thought something as intimate as kissing someone would be something he enjoyed so much. When he gently pulls away, Sara steals back initiative. Her arms drape around his shoulders as she pulls him back in. Their lips meet again, this time the kiss deeply committal and pressing.

Pulling away and looking at each other in the aftermath is just as intimate as kissing. Emotions crackle on Sara’s deeply flushed face. In turn, he knows he can’t keep anything from her. All the longing and desperation lays out blatantly in his expression. Hers the same. The best part was knowing he wasn’t alone in the feeling.

She makes a hopeless romantic out of him. As his brain begins to kick back into gear, he’s hungry to ask all the questions and know all the details. When did she feel like this for him? When? How?

Sara’s the first to speak, though.

“Ranmaru, it’s me. I’m S.”

Racing thoughts come to an abrupt, jolting halt. 

“You… you what?”

He scrambles for footing but he just keeps slipping. A cold, staticy sensation bleeds into his consciousness, severing him from reaching understanding.

“I’m S. You know, the person you’ve been texting…?”

She waits, a hopefulness livening her face. Hopes for a wealth of understanding and relation. She craves a kindred understanding. The longer he takes to show any sign of response, the more cracks splinter the affectation.

Oh no.

Familiar pressure in his throat, climbing up to his face and sinuses warn of incoming tears. His stomach dangerously somersaults and goes queasy. His chest heaves, frantic for breath, but he does everything he can to keep from hyperventilating. Waves of different emotions toss him about. In effort to keep down whatever it was that was threatening to bubbling over, he tears away from Sara and jumps to his feet. 

The girl’s face crumbles. Hope washes away to sober rejection. He’s the reason behind it. It hurts. This moment wasn’t what she hoped for, and maybe neither was he. 

In her head was an idea he couldn’t be. 

Maybe she could be S, but he couldn’t be R.

He wanted to stay with her. Sit back down and reassure. To explain what was going on and reach an understanding. Yet, he feels like he’s breaking apart at the seams. 

Everything changes when nothing should. He kicks back into gear with questions again, but this time they’re horrible and nagging. This could change so much about the night they’d had together. Was it all different if she knew something he didn't? Perhaps that would depend on how long she’d known and not told him. Why didn’t she tell him? 

Still, he couldn’t find it in him to feel anything for her besides pity and desperation to mend. That moment just wouldn’t be now. 

“Sara, I’m so, so sorry. It’s not you. But I’ve got to go. I just really gotta go right now-“ he hiccups, warding off tears. “I can’t- I can’t do… I’m just- oh god. I’m sorry. Sara-“

The words become increasingly harder to get out until they dry up. 

Yet, she gives him her grace. “It’s okay, Ranmaru. Go.”

His chest heaves and his eyes flood with tears. With her permission, he feels dragged towards his escape, but he remains rooted in place. Not yet. He moves towards her instead and scoops her up in a tight hug. “‘M not walkin’ away. Promise.”

Chapter Text

The feeling she was left with was horrible, but it was important to sit with. It would’ve been so easy to drown out the weighty anxiety in an overconsumption of TV and screen time. She shouldn’t be seeking to numb, despite the desperation tugging at her to do so. There was reflection to be done, that couldn’t be achieved with short form distraction.

It was simple to feel like things were worse than they were. Swirling embarrassment and rejection clouded the way they’d left things off. To open up expecting understanding and affection, only for Ranmaru to leave, left a cut deeper than she could easily process. He wasn’t gone forever, nothing was over, but in quiet moments she convinced herself of such. 

It was three long days before they spoke. Quiet days, where there was not only radio silence from Ranmaru but from R, too. Once or twice, she figured it could’ve been easier now if R wasn’t Ranmaru. Then at least she’d still have him. She knew she needed to give him space, but it took everything she had not to open up their months-old text chain and press for reassurance.

Sometimes, she settled into despondency. Sara naturally leaned towards hyper-independence. In the worst of times, this tendency took her too far in the wrong direction. She placated herself with the belief that she didn’t need Ranmaru at all. He could never talk to her again or they could be together, and she wouldn’t care. Sometimes those things were easier to think true than the alternative.

When her tendency to isolate grew too strong, she combatted it by seeking company. Joe, Ryoko and Anzu (Anzu’s involvement was initially a little baffling, but she concluded that it would be silly for Anzu to “pick sides” in such a gray-area conflict) were all making their best efforts to be let in. Ryoko had offered to skip classes to keep her company and Anzu had dropped by to leave home baked cookies on her doorstep. Joe, who knew her better than anyone, left her with the message easiest to digest. A text reading, “I’ll be here if you need me, Sara. Love ya.” As much as she appreciated Ryoko and Anzu’s efforts, she needed her best friend right now.

When Joe came over, the first thing he did was hug her. Sara had convinced herself she was stable and despondent enough to prevent an emotional breakdown, but it all came clawing up. She couldn’t remember the last time she sobbed in front of anyone. Joe didn’t comment on it, only waited for her to speak.

“I’ve never felt this way before. I’m trying to be patient,” she admitted. “I can’t.”

The first half of the evening was spent sifting through her emotions. They processed them one by one, together, unraveling the tangled conglomerate of confliction. A healthy amount of protectiveness came from Joe, too. Stern “if hurts you, he’ll be hearing from me”’s and the likes. They were expressions cliche enough to get a laugh out of her. Sara had very little experience with relationships and he’d never had a chance to put these endearments, as overdone as they were, to use. In a way, that part alone was almost fun to go through with her best friend.

Eventually, surprisingly, there wasn’t anything left to talk about. She felt more ready to approach Ranmaru when the opportunity arose. At least there was a place to start. 

Emotionally dried up, she turned on a movie, chattered with Joe semi-normally and fell asleep on the couch. She woke up halfway through the night to find he’d taken up the armchair in the corner of the room. When they were little, they did sleepovers all the time yet the practice had dried up by the time they graduated high school. The circumstances rekindled the tradition of old.

Spent and asleep by the early evening, she didn’t see the texts until the next morning.

hey sara. it feels so weird to say that here, but hi. it’s you. i’m so happy its you.

i’m really sorry for the silence. i can’t express to you enough how much i appreciate you letting me have time. i feel really horrible for making you wait. you’re amazing and you don’t deserve that

anyways i don’t want to say this all over text. it feels so intangible. unless that’s the only way you want to talk to me. or maybe you don’t want to talk to me at all. i don’t know how you’re feeling. but if you’re ready, i’d love to see you in person?

-ranmaru

—-

She agreed to meet him at his house. She wanted to see him again. He was equally thrilled and horrified. Sara didn’t sound mad over text, but you can only get so much of a person through a screen. No matter what happened, today would likely end in closure.

The possibilities made him sick to his stomach, but that was relationships. You have to take the risk, brace for impact. Prepare for the best, too.

The hours drew closer, until the clock had ticked down to minutes from their meeting time. A fit of dizzily pacing the length of his living room took up the final moments before. For once, he was grateful his mother was always at work. Nobody needed to see him like this. Well, nobody but Sara. He’d be vulnerable for her.

The doorbell rang and he froze mid-stride. At first, he was met with a fear-response; his body cold and stopped. Warmth bled back in when he realized it was her standing on the other side of the door. All do the tumultuous emotions aside, Sara was waiting for him and he wanted more than anything to see her. He stumbled over his own feet headed to answer.

He opened the door, and it occurred to him that it was weeks ago he started to picture her face when he imagined S. Even without basis or investigation, she became his S. The two people who seamlessly got him blending together to one. 

“It’s you,” she says, understanding in a way beyond the tell of her words.

“It’s me.”

She looked unsure. Her hands floated by her side, hesitating between reaching out and maintaining stoicism.

He gestured for her to come in and they settled in his living room. Seeing her in the setting, sitting among everything so familiar, was dissonance that gradually collected to a tentative harmony. 

“Where are we at?” He asks, before clarifying, “where are you at?”

The commandment keeping her hands firmly at her sides broke and she began to fiddle with them. “I’m not mad. I don’t even know if I’m upset at you. But I am upset.”

The same twinge of hurt that bloomed in his chest that night came back. The sting of being the reason she was hurt. “I understand. I’d be too. You can be upset at me. I would be.”

“But I’m not. I know where you’re coming from. When I realized, I couldn’t really process it either. It seemed so unlikely that it was hard to believe. There’s no playbook for this. But it was a really horrible feeling to leave off with. Maybe I didn’t pick the right moment or I should’ve told you as soon as I found out…”

“Don’t blame yourself. It’s on me. I’m so sorry, Sara. I would’ve stayed and talked it out if I could’ve-“ He winces. “That sounded horrible.”

“It didn’t. It’s not an excuse. You literally couldn’t have.”

He sighs, relieved. “Maybe ‘if I could have’ isn’t the best way to put it, but I felt like I was- I was gonna… I don’t know. Cry? Lose it? Throw up? There was no way for me to get out what I wanted to get out, then.”

She smiles a little. “Yeah. Time to process. We’re in pretty uncharted territory, huh?”

“Very uncharted territory,” he reiterates. There's a quiet moment as they soak in the first part of the conversation. The air is still somewhat tense, each of them a bit withdrawn. “But I’ve got the words now, a little bit more… So, how long did you know?”

“A few days. I was trying to figure out how to tell you, but I knew it would take a lot to process. I didn’t tell you over text. Not a revelation to have over text. The next time I saw you in person was at the party. I waited because I was having a really good time with you. I didn’t want to derail that, maybe a bit selfishly. In the end, I chose probably the worst moment.” 

He feels his cheeks warm in recollection. More importantly, her explanation quells one of his doubts. 

“I don’t know if there was a right moment.” His voice crackles a little.

Sara’s mouth bitterly wobbles into a watery frown. “Either way, I feel like I ruined it.”

“You didn’t ruin anything, Sara,” he reassures. “I promise.”

“I just wanted you to get it, right there. Be on the same page because it felt so much more special knowing that you’ve been there for me even longer than I thought. Knowing you were R didn’t make things hollow. It made everything more full.”

For what an admission that should’ve been the breaking point in the conversation that made it all feel better, it only forms a pit in his stomach. He wonders if he was as ready to have this conversation as he thought he was.

“I’m sorry, Sara.” He defaults back to. He’s not sure if he’s apologizing for his reaction then or now. “So sorry. That is amazing to hear…”

She picks up on the empty space. “But? Are you… not happy?”

“No, I am happy,” he asserts. Out of everything, that was the thing he was most certain of. “So happy it’s you. Just scared.”

There’s a pause. He expects the air to tense, but instead, she scoots a little closer to him. “And why’s that?”

“I… there’s reasons. Don’t wanna make this about me. It’s about you.”

The looks she gives him is more questioning that he feels deserved. “Why is it about me?”

“I hurt ya, Sara. You should get the clarity, not me.”

“No, that’s wrong,” she quickly snaps back. “I’m here to talk about us, not me. It’s okay. I was scared too. I still am. I’m just as worried about you as I am worried about me. You can tell me.”

He doesn’t have words, only an unsure hum. His approach was centered around an apology and hearing her out. Taking up the space to talk about him felt decidedly selfish. 

“I want to know,” she presses. “Please.”

A cocktail of gratitude and uncomfortably stirs. Though her plea is taken most seriously, above it all.

“I’m not sure how much it changes things. You said it’s a good change for you, which I’m so grateful for. But me?”

“What does it change for you?” 

“I’m not R.”

Her face scrunches up in confusion. “You’re not?”

“No! I am. Just can’t be the guy over text. I don’t even know if I can be the guy you know in person. Those came with pretenses.”

“What pretenses?”

“Over text, I can be… I dunno, a laid-back, interesting guy. The one you talk to for hours, and none of that slips. It’s an easy version of me.”

“An easy version of you? Ranmaru… I’m not just interested in you over text.”

The instinct is to deflect. A childish “you don’t know that” sits on his tongue, but he holds back. He won’t impose his own beliefs onto her. 

“I wouldn't be here right now if I only wanted an easy version.”

He hums. “I guess.”

“I knew you in person too,” she adds. “We ran into each other in real life and clicked all the same.”

“I get in my head over that too. Annoying. Can’t just let a good thing be, huh? We met cuz’ the newspaper, but part of me says that would’a been as far as it went if it weren’t for Anzu and Joe being friends. Or if you were, well, you.”

“Because of them? Or me?”

“Other people doin’ it for me. Forging connection. Feels like Anzu’s had to do so much legwork for me. She’s pushed me out of my comfort zone, to things I didn’t know I needed. So many times. When we became friends, she was the one who pushed for it, not me. It’s like she sensed how badly I needed someone around. I was really lonely when I met her. I probably would’ve still been alone if I never knew her. Then, maybe there wouldn’t be you. And you’ve opened up my world. Brightened it. Then you were the one there, pushing me along too. If it were up to me, I might’a just let it all fade away. Never pursued getting to know you. I would never trade it, but I wish that every time something positive happened in my life, it wasn’t because someone came into it and changed it. I wish it was me.”

Cooling off, he waits for what comes next. Probably some apologetic, unsure response. How do you respond to something so frankly sad, anyways? He’s completely taken off guard by her arms draping around him. 

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” she tells him. “You’re the type of person people want to know. It’s not all their one-sided effort that keeps them coming back. You’re memorable and thoughtful. Funny, insightful, cool… everything. I saw that over text and I do now. I don’t need some chill guy over text and I don’t need you to be on your game all the time in person. You’re just fine. People come back for that Ranmaru. It is you that brings the change.”

The tears start subtly, only a few rolling down his cheek. As the understanding sinks in, the floodgates creak open. In the back of his mind, a nagging self-loathe labels it pathetic it is to cry now. Sara brings up another part of him that reminds him it’s alright. 

Sara pulls away now and begins to wipe the tears away from his cheeks. He’s not the only one crying.

“You became friends with Anzu. You’re capable of making friends. And you’re capable of connecting with me. I mean, here we are.”

“Yeah… This is fine? You’re fine?” He asks. “M’ not being too much?”

“Nothing about you is too much or too little for me.”

All he can do is thank her, babbling like a little kid. She babbles back, tears picking up, rounds of ‘you’re welcome’’s and ‘it’s alright’’s.

“You know, I get it too,” She admits. “I feel so passive and distant sometimes. It nags at you.”

For a girl that seemed to have more friends that she could count on both hands, it’s a little hard to believe. He knew Sara only had a few close friends, but it seemed like she knew so many people on some level. Numerous enthusiastic campus run-ins, conversations with party goers; all of it created the impression of someone who was adored and included.

Apparently he was wrong about a lot of things. 

He’d take this, and everything else he’d gotten from the conversation, as a reminder to get out of his head more often.

“I don’t have a lot of people I feel at home with,” she elaborates. “Joe does a lot for me, too. I know people, but it’s all passing. He always has pushed my boundaries just far enough to get me to try new things, meet new people. Sometimes I think, man, what kind of person would I be without him? If he was gone?”

Ranmaru takes his turn wiping away her tears, which are pouring much more as she talks.

Her violet eyes flicker to his, still bright despite the tender and heavy moment. “For the record, I think I’m starting to feel at home with you, too.”

“Oh my god...” He trails off, melting. “Geez, Sara. I was so wrong. Nothing changes.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You still know me. In almost a scary way. Just like it always was.”

“Still same girl who responds to wrong number texts?”

He laughs, wholeheartedly. “Ya gotta stop that. You got lucky, but I seriously could’a been a murderer. But yeah. I’m still the same guy too.”

“You are. I did get lucky.” She giggles, gleefully.

He rolls his eyes, deflecting from the way his heart patters against his ribs. 

Conversation trails off from the heavier topics. More light-hearted remarks discussing the situation and the logistics of their chance encounters split through the foggy emotional territory. The weight of importance never completely crumbles away. But the walls between them do.

They sit, clinging to each other. The intimacy is unspoken, sheepish. Letting go was out of the question. 

When they run out of light comments, or maybe just get too tired, he quietly reaches for the remote. The Far Encounters theme song fills the room. Sara lays back and makes herself comfortable against his chest. More natural, less grasping, they cuddle up. He thinks this is it—the gentle rhythm of knowing your person.

—-

It takes a few days to understand where they’re at. Daily rendezvous, hours of TV, talk, studying; so much of the next few days are spent side by side. Here and there, a few uncertain, undefined kisses. More than friends, with breathing room. Time to feel truly known by the other person.

Sara didn’t want to push—she accepted the importance of the pace they were going at—but she was slipping. She couldn’t sleep at night, nor could she concentrate on anything between visits. Anzu, Joe and Ryoko knew there was some new development; she couldn’t have made it more obvious, apparently. When they enthusiastically press, she waves them off, holding respect for the very careful thing the two of them were building towards. 

Settling into their new dynamic was funny. Plenty of things played out just as predicted. He was just as easy to talk to as ever, just as kind, silly, awkward in the most charming of ways. He was jaw-dropping smooth at the most stunning times; just as much as she fumbled. They both had fumbly moments. He really hadn’t changed, and neither had she. Yet there were plenty of things that took her by surprise. When she first met him and developed feelings, whenever she thought about what they may be like together, she imagined herself being the one to make all the moves. One late, wakeless hour, she internally tallied up the firsts shared between them. She found that the majority of times, he was the initiator.

Maybe that's why it came naturally that he was the one to finally put it all into words.

An impromptu get together, among the trees at the crest of a hill, set before academic buildings, it happened. Their favorite spot on campus. She remembered a picnic blanket this time. Their semester was over as of that afternoon and they were enjoying a refreshingly tepid evening. Unlike many of their peers, who were packing up their dorms and saying goodbye, they’d still have the summer together. Living nearby had its perks.

Sara had a book in one hand. The other mused with his hair as he rested in her lap. She broke away from her reading for only a moment, long enough to catch him staring at her. She realized that he’d been looking for a long time.

“Sara?”

Her heart was instantly in her throat. “Yeah, Ranmaru?”

“I want to be with you.”

She dropped her book, the pages carelessly falling with a gentle thump on the blanket. Startled and unsure, he sat up. Her answer was wordless and instant. She kissed him. 

Everything coming into focus, this was home.