The floor of Ayaka's room was softly golden as the early morning light filtered through the room's thin curtains. The rain had stopped outside, and the air was still and damp. Time had already started to move again inside her small, peaceful world, even though the city had not yet woken.
With the weight of exhaustion still pressing down on her limbs, Ayaka stirred in her bed. Her fever had slightly subsided, allowing her mind to gradually clear the haze. And then she saw him.
Ren.
With one arm folded on the blanket and the other hanging loosely, his head was leaning against the side of her bed. He was dozing off on the chair, his brows relaxed, his lips slightly parted, his breathing steady and soft. She was surprised by the calm that pervaded the room as he remained motionless and silent.
In an attempt to reconstruct the memory, she blinked once and twice. She recalled the door opening, his gentle yet firm voice telling her to rest, and the feel of his palm against her forehead. The sound of dishes clinking faintly came from the kitchen. The scent of miso soup. A hand fiddling with her blanket.
And here he was now.
She gazed at him.
Why is he so concerned?
Her heart twisted a little.
For so long, she had avoided contact. Professional and icy. Firm. She never allowed herself to get too close, even after they had made up. She was constantly worried about what might happen if she did. Of the consequences if she fell too far.
But he was here.
He had remained in spite of the wall she had constructed.
She looked at the cup of water by her bedside and the little bowl of cold soup. She had a damp but clean towel folded across her forehead. A new one was waiting on the nightstand.
He looked after me. all night?
Slowly, Ayaka sat up, her body objecting to the motion. Her hand automatically went to her forehead as she winced. Her gaze returned to Ren. still in bed. It's still there.
Her chest felt constricted.
When he slept, he looked so young. At risk. Not at all like the resolute, occasionally annoyingly uncooperative trainee she reprimanded during practice. This was a serene Ren. Sincere. Kind.
Her fingers extended, briefly resting just above his hair. She hesitated, then halted.
Ayaka, what are you doing?
With a sigh, she withdrew her hand.
Was allowing him to do this much wrong?
She had drawn lines all her life. She had always been cautious. Favoritism, rumors, and her heart interfering with their shared passion for their work were all things she wished to avoid. But after all these years, when he had returned to her life with the same fervent energy and the same unflinching light in his eyes, she had noticed that she was slowly changing.
She didn't intend to fall.
Maybe she had, though.
The silence was broken by a sleepy murmur.
Ren blinked a couple of times, then raised his head after stirring a little. Confused, he glanced around before focusing on her.
His voice was raspy from sleep as he whispered, "You're awake."
Ayaka nodded slightly. Indeed. Right now.
In an attempt to relieve the stiffness, he rubbed the back of his neck and sat up more straight. "How are you feeling?"
"Better," she uttered. "A little weak still."
Ren's forehead wrinkled in worry. "You need to get more sleep. I can prepare some homemade soup—"
"You've done enough already."
He came to a halt. examined her.
Ayaka gave a small smile. "I'm grateful, Ren."
As though he hadn't anticipated the words, his eyes widened a little.
She moved the blanket out of the way. "Why don't you sit up straight? Your back must have been murdered by that chair."
After hesitating, Ren got up from the chair and sat on the bed's edge. He maintained a cautious, respectful stance with his hands on his knees. The atmosphere between them had changed. Something much more delicate instead of tension.
After some time, Ayaka said, "I didn't mean to worry you."
"You didn't," Ren said quietly. "I was simply afraid." When I heard you weren't coming downstairs, and then saw Haruto bringing medicine—"
"You ran?" She made light fun of it.
Embarrassed, he looked away. "In a way."
There was a brief but light silence between them. Just being considerate.
Ayaka gazed out the window. She could hear the distant sounds of traffic starting to stir as the sun rose higher.
"Ren," she said.
He turned.
"I don't want you to consider... I didn't care, so I pushed you away."
His eyes softened and his expression changed.
"I understand," he said. "I believe I now understand."
She gave a nod. Still. I was unforgiving. And I apologize for that.
"You don't have to say sorry."
They exchanged glances. The silence between them felt healing for the first time in weeks.
Then Ayaka looked down at his hand, which was near hers.
"You ought to go change. You appear to have been up all night."
"I didn't," he acknowledged. "I didn't want you to miss it in case you needed anything."
Once more, her heart ached. Half amused, half touched, she shook her head.
"You fool," she whispered.
He smiled.
She said, "I'll be alright now. Go tidy up."
With some reluctance, he stood up and stretched. "I'll be back later."
Ayaka gave a nod. "Please do."
And she yelled as he approached the door.
"Ren?"
He turned.
Her eyes were now serious as she gazed at him.
"I appreciate you being here."
He looked at her.
"Always."
Then he walked away.
Leaning back against her pillows, Ayaka observed the changes in the light on her ceiling.
Perhaps... just possibly... Some walls could be taken down.