Chapter Text
In a different world, Mualani would be cradling a hot latte between gloved hands, warding off shivers and trembles where she sits. Just over her scarf, her breath would turn to a rising cold mist as she brushes off flakes of snow that sit on her coat sleeve.
It’s all make-believe. She wouldn’t be well dressed for this—just a pair of jean shorts and a graphic tee. The only thing that’s real about this fantasy is that she’s sitting in front of a coffee shop. An iced pink drink sits in front of her, condensation dripping off the side. Though freezing winters aren't quite her thing (and not like she's ever actually seen one), she thinks she'd find that much more manageable than the heat she's dealing with right now, even under the shade—weather that would be fine were she by the sea, but she's a long way away from home.
More than a long way.
Mualani looks off into the gray suburban jungle, eyeing the street corner for a familiar figure. Her concentration’s only broken by the sputtering exhaust of a passing motorbike that she has to cough and wave away.
She’s only been in town for a week or so, but the dull unfriendliness of the place has already set in. There’s no oceanside view nor a bustling nightlife here; at most, there’s a run-down mall with a food court and high schoolers. The only thing that’s drawn her here is a lake nearby and a group of older, hippie-esque aquatic researchers who’ve graciously taken her on board with handsome pay. She’s yet to know them well, and they’re the only people around that she really knows.
Well, that’s not quite true. There’s just one other person in town who she’s known quite well before—he’s from home, actually. It’s just been a while since they last talked.
And so it almost catches her by surprise when he breezes around the street corner, painfully upright posture with his hands in his pockets. He always walked a bit faster than everyone else, herself included.
Kinich looks only slightly different now—same unkempt haircut, same poker face, maybe a bit taller and sturdier. He’s dressed a bit less plainly than before; wearing something other than gym shorts or sweatpants really gives off the impression that he’s older now, aged by the strict monotony of work. And there’s something uncanny about seeing him with a bare, uncovered forehead.
But there he is, in all his remaining glory.
She feels something she’s felt a million times before, that jittery sensation that emerges in her chest whenever there’s uncertainty. Moving in, seeing her parents drive off—that was the last time she really felt it.
In the midst of it, she offers a weak wave at him as he approaches. He sticks his hand up, fingers and palm spread, in return.
Her voice almost catches in her throat. “Hey.”
Kinich doesn’t even look at her as he pulls out the chair opposite to her, then slides in. “You’re here early.”
“You ditch the old headband?” teases Mualani.
He blows a small puff of air out of the corner of his mouth—his version of something between a sigh and chuckle.
“We’re not in high school anymore, Mualani.”
Blunt as ever, even if he didn’t mean it. She can’t think of anything to respond to that, not like she used to be able to.
She holds back a wince as Kinich leans back into the metal seat, gazing off at the road beside them. Mualani takes a sip of her ever-sour drink to fill the empty silence unsatisfyingly.
“Funny day to pick for a meetup,” says Kinich drily, wiping sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand.
“The whole weekend’s gonna be hot,” she shrugs. “I just thought Saturday would work best for you.”
“I guess it does. Not like I have anything to do on the weekends,” says Kinich, gaze still averted. “You really texted out of the blue last night.”
“It’s not like I know anyone else around here,” she replies, staring down at the pink slush she’s swirling.
There’s something to be said about texting an ex at ungodly hours, but it’s not the time for either of them to read into that too much.
“I just thought that you’d meet other people already,” concedes Kinich.
“Yeah, I have. Co-workers. Making friends is a bit more tough out here.” She swats at a fly that’s grown too comfortable by the crumbs on the table. “Everyone else here is a decade older or younger than us, and it’s just… soulless out here. Nothing to do other than work. And sleep. And scroll.”
“Well, we’re here.” Kinich finally meets her eye, and Mualani almost flinches. “And I think I know something in town that you might find fun.”
“Yeah? Spill, man.”
“I’ve found that the most fun thing to do here is to get in your car and drive somewhere else.”
It’s a lame, dry joke—hardly funny by his own standards. Still, a smile tugs at the corner of her face as he sneaks glances at her, gauging her reaction. He’s not a lost cause yet, not even when she’s so close to becoming one herself.
“You happen to know any beaches nearby?” she jests in turn.
“In the middle of cow county?” Kinich’s eyebrows lift in mock surprise. “No, but there’s some hiking spots. If you have a couple of hours and a tank full of gas to spare, you’ll run into a city where you can actually do things.”
“Guess I’m out of luck. I work some weekends.” Mualani props her chin up on her hand, amused. “Never thought you’d grow into the type to head into the city and party.”
“I’m not. I just thought that would be more your scene. Couple of escape rooms and rock climbing walls there, too.”
“Pshh, ‘course you’d know where those are.” She leans in on the table. “Tell me more.”
The heat radiating from the asphalt feels as though it’s baking her from underneath by now, but it’s tolerable, somehow. Kinich must feel the same after the past couple of hours.
“It’s getting late,” notes Kinich, frosty eyes catching an orange glint from the sun. “Maybe you should start heading back.”
Mualani smirks. “What, and leave you behind?”
“It’s been nice catching up with you, but you really shouldn’t be out here for too long,” rejects Kinich. “My place isn’t too far off.”
“I really don’t have anything to do, and I’m not really dying to be on my phone for the rest of the night,” she sighs. “You know any good places to grab dinner around here, at least?”
Kinich points down the street with his thumb. “There’s a little hole-in-the-wall Liyuean place down a couple of blocks. Nothing like the one back home, but it’ll do.”
“Alright, then that’s settled." She presses her lips together for a moment before saying something she might come to regret.
"Want me to drive you over?”
Kinich pauses for a second, perhaps unsure if it’s another joke or a genuine invitation.
“Sure.”
Mualani munches on a mighty mound of Mora Meat. A couple of crumbs trickle down into the crevices of her driver’s seat, never to be found under the light of a dim lamp post.
“A little sweet,” she critiques, licking her lips. “Still good!”
Kinich nods without speaking beside her, his mouth stuffed with cha siu and rice. He balances an open takeout tray on his lap. A bag holding the rest of their meal rests on the dashboard.
Eating in happy silence isn’t a foreign concept to them, especially as they break into their box of chow mein. Mualani chews on a spoonful of fried rice after Kinich has his share, and it’s unexpectedly spicy. Suddenly panting and tearing up, she has to stop for a second to keep her taste buds intact.
“Here.” Kinich pushes a bottle toward her. She’s already downed half of it before she can think.
“Ahh…” She wipes a chilly dribble of water off the top of her lips. “Thanks.”
“Mhm.”
“Where’d you get those?”
“I bought a couple from the takeout place. Have them here.” Kinich lifts up a smaller plastic bag from his feet into a sliver of light. “Thought we might need them.”
“Yeah, me more than you,” she says, catching her breath. “You’re a real lifesaver, you know. Could’ve made a good lifeguard back home.”
“I still can’t swim,” reminds Kinich.
“Pshh, right,” she laughs. “Speaking of… I should’ve asked this sooner, but what do you do for work?”
“I work online,” Kinich drones, reaching into the big bag. “Nothing exciting or hard—just an office job from home.”
“So, spreadsheets?” Mualani braves another bite of fried rice.
“Yeah. Meetings. Emails.” The crinkle of hard plastic sounds as he draws a shadowy hand back toward himself. “You learn how to get away with not working for four hours out of eight. It’s like school.”
Mualani coughs the burning in her throat away with a pained grin. “I’d suffer, then.”
“You would. Catch.”
By reflex, Mualani swipes a plastic glint out of the air.
“Almost forgot about these,” she beams, eyeing the golden cookie.
“I always thought they were your favorite part of eating Liyuean takeout.”
“They were, then I realized that Granny could come up with a better horoscope if I asked hard enough.” She sticks a cupped hand out at Kinich. “Your fortune, please.”
The wrapper crunches apart, as does the cookie. He tugs the little slip out before handing it over to Mualani, who snatches it from between his fingers.
“You excel at pleasing others,” she reads slowly, squinting in the dark. “Maybe it means your boss… or Ajaw?”
“What’s the difference?” Kinich leans back and folds his hands behind the headrest, leaving his dessert on his tray. “Maybe you’ll get a better one.”
“I really have to be the lucky one here for the two of us,” sighs Mualani, exaggeratedly. “Here we go…”
Her fingers, through habit, unseal her fortune. Tilting the slip toward the faintest light, she looks it over wordlessly.
It may be difficult, but it will be worth it in the end.