They didn't talk about the hotel.
Not on the train ride home.
Not in the group chat.
Not even when Minami sent three consecutive "👀👀👀" messages followed by "sooo... how was the ~shared air~ experience?"
Noa just muted the conversation and threw her phone across the bed.
Her brain, however, refused to shut up.
Because something had shifted.
They hadn't kissed. Hadn't confessed. Hadn't done anything remotely romantic.
And yet—everything was different now.
—
It happened on a Tuesday.
The studio was quiet. Post-shoot, low energy, half the interns napping on chairs. Noa was reviewing footage alone in the editing room, sipping stale coffee and avoiding her inbox.
Then the door creaked open.
Ren slipped in without a word, dropped into the chair beside her, and stared at the screen.
She didn't look at him.
He didn't look at her.
For a moment, they just existed—side by side. Like always. But heavier now.
Then he said it.
Low. Careful.
"I don't know what this is."
Noa froze.
He kept going. Slowly.
"I don't know what we're doing. I don't know what I feel. I just know that when I'm not around you, it's weird. And when I *am* around you... it's still weird. But better."
She finally turned.
He wasn't smiling.
Not joking.
Just Ren. Open. Vulnerable in a way he rarely allowed.
Noa swallowed.
"I don't know either," she said quietly. "I've been trying to label it. Or avoid it. Or both."
Pause.
"But every time I try to push you out of my day... you just show up again. Like a bug in my system."
Ren laughed under his breath. "Charming metaphor."
"You're persistent."
"You're confusing."
"I know."
They sat in the weight of that truth.
No labels.
No declarations.
Just two people admitting the one thing they'd avoided:
This wasn't just *nothing* anymore.
—
Ren leaned back in the chair, exhaled deeply.
"So what now?"
Noa tapped her pen against the desk.
"We stop pretending it's not something," she said.
He looked over.
She added, "But we don't rush it either."
Ren smiled.
"Slow-burn it is."
She rolled her eyes. "Don't say that out loud."
"Too late."
He bumped her shoulder gently.
And this time, she didn't pull away.