It started with a whisper.
Then a giggle.
Then the unmistakable sound of a phone camera shutter.
Noa felt it before she saw it—the way the subway car's energy shifted. Like a group of teenagers trying *not* to look obvious while very obviously staring at them.
She leaned toward Ren.
"Are they... recording us?"
Ren glanced up, then slowly lowered his head. "Yep. Definitely us."
"Oh my god."
"We've gone full public figure."
"No. *You* have. I'm just collateral damage."
"I think we're a unit now. Like rice and seaweed."
"Stop being poetic. This is bad."
—
The train stopped.
The doors opened.
More people piled in.
The whispers grew louder.
Then came the voices.
"Is that them?"
"The Japanese couple?"
"I saw the market video! They're cute!"
"Oh my god, it's them!"
Noa turned to Ren with full panic in her eyes. "We need to get out of here."
"Next stop's five minutes away."
"Then we need camouflage."
Ren blinked.
Then—very quietly—said, "We could kiss."
Noa nearly died on the spot.
"WHAT."
He raised his hands. "Fake kiss! Just like, lean in close. Confuse the audience. Distract the crowd. It's a classic spy move."
"This isn't a spy movie! This is public transportation!"
"And we're undercover lovers."
"I hate you."
But the voices were getting closer. Phones were definitely recording.
Ren looked at her.
No teasing this time. Just a quiet offer.
"I won't move unless you do."
Noa closed her eyes.
Then stepped forward.
Their faces inches apart.
She could feel his breath.
Could see the nervous flutter in his eyes.
It wasn't a kiss.
But it looked like one.
And that was enough.
The fans squealed.
The phones lowered.
And by the time they reached the next stop—they were ghosts in the crowd, vanishing down the escalator like pros.
—
They didn't talk for a full five minutes after escaping.
Then, finally, Ren said, "That was... wow."
"Never speak of it again."
"Your heartbeat was loud."
"You were shaking."
"I wasn't shaking. I was vibrating with focus."
"You were *blushing.*"
"Was not."
"Were too."
She shoved him lightly.
He let her.
But as they walked side by side through the underground mall, hands brushing, steps in sync—
They both knew something had shifted.
Not in the fake way.
In the very, very real way.