The next evening came quietly, like the city had taken a deep breath and finally exhaled.
Lin stood near the revolving doors of our office building, her coat slung casually over one arm, hair damp from the earlier rain. When she spotted me walking up, her eyes lit up and she smiled. It wasn't a dramatic smile, but something in it made my chest feel oddly warm.
"You made it," she said.
"I told you I would," I said, trying not to sound like I ran most of the way here. "Besides, the idea of you eating yakitori without me just felt wrong."
She laughed, and that single sound erased every ounce of my nerves.
We walked side by side through the evening city, our umbrellas tucked under our arms now that the rain had stopped. The glow from the streetlights shimmered in the puddles, and a faint smell of grilled meat drifted from a block away.
The yakitori place was easy to miss, wedged between a narrow bookstore and a flower shop. But inside, it was warm, filled with the soft crackle of the grill and the low hum of jazz from a dusty speaker. The chef, a broad-shouldered man with a bandana and easy smile, greeted us with a familiar wave.
"Ah! You two again," he said. "Back for the good stuff?"
"Of course," Lin grinned. "Can't stay away from the good stuff."
We took our usual spot at the counter. It felt strange how natural it already felt, like we'd done this a dozen times before. The sizzling from the grill filled the room, mixing with soft RnB crackling from a speaker in the corner. Behind us, regulars murmured their own stories.
I watched Lin while she watched the food. Her eyes followed the chef's hands, but her thoughts seemed far away.
"You okay?" I asked gently.
She blinked, turning to me like I'd pulled her out of another room. "Yeah. Just thinking."
"About?"
She let out a small breath, almost a laugh. "When I was a kid, my mom would take me to places like this. We didn't go out much, but every now and then, she'd take me somewhere small and cozy. We'd sit together and share one skewer. She always gave me the bigger half, even if she was hungry."
Her eyes stayed on the grill, flickering with reflection.
She paused.
"I didn't get it back then. I just thought it was normal. But now, I think about how much she gave up just to make things feel okay for me."
"What happened to her?" I asked gently.
"She died when I was seventeen. Cancer. It all happened too quickly to understand, and by the time I did, she was already gone."
The air between us grew still.
"She was the one person who always believed I could be something. Even when I didn't. She told me to chase things that scared me. Lately, I've been wondering if she'd be proud of who I've become."
I didn't say anything at first. Just placed my hand over hers. Just a quiet urge to make sure she knew she wasn't alone at this moment.
"I think she would be," I said. "She'd probably be amazed."
Lin looked at me. Her eyes were glassy, but steady. "Thanks."
Lin smiled softly and looked at me. "Thank you."
The heaviness didn't vanish, but it made space for other things. As we ate, we shared dumb stories from college, argued over which anime had the worst dub voice acting, and laughed about the time Kenji got his shoelaces stuck in an escalator at a convention.
"I still don't understand why they keep making live-action anime with those awful wigs," Lin said, waving her empty skewer.
"It's like they actively search for the worst option," I said. "It's almost impressive."
By the time we finished, I felt lighter.
Outside, the wind had picked up. We walked slowly, the way people do when they don't want the night to end.
"I've been thinking," Lin said suddenly, hands tucked in her coat. "About the transfer."
I looked at her, careful not to interrupt.
"I'm not sure I want to go anymore," she said.
"That's a big shift," I said quietly. "What changed?"
She took a moment before answering. "I don't know. On paper, it makes sense. Better pay. Less distance from family. But lately, it's felt like... maybe I've started to breathe again here. With the people around me."
I didn't trust my voice at first, so I nodded. Then: "If you stay, I think a lot of people will be really glad."
She gave a small smile. "You mean Kayla? Or Kenji?"
I grinned. "Well, them too. But mostly me."
She hesitated, then looked up at me.
"The other part feels like I finally found a place where I can breathe."
My throat went dry.
"I don't know what to do yet," she added quickly, "but I wanted to be honest. I didn't want to just vanish if I decided to stay."
Hope welled in my chest, cautious, but real.
"I'm glad you told me," I said. "And… if you do stay… I think a lot of people would be really happy."
She smiled again, wider this time.
We turned a corner and ended up at a quiet overpass with a view of the city skyline.
"I haven't had a night like this in a long time," she said.
"Me neither."
She turned to me, eyes luminous under the city glow.
"I don't know where this is going," Lin said, voice soft but clear, "but I want to keep seeing you. In whatever way we can figure it out."
I swallowed hard. "I'd like that too."
She looked down, a blush creeping across her cheeks. "Also, I've never shared what I told you tonight with anyone else."
I stared at her, humbled. "Thank you for trusting me."
Then, she stepped a little closer.
"Just… Don't make me regret it, okay?"
"I won't," I said, almost a whisper.
Later that night, I lay on my bed, phone pressed against my cheek as Kenji's voice came through in stereo.
"You didn't mess it up, right?" Kenji's voice came through, suspicious and teasing.
"Kenji…"
"You didn't trip on a curb or try to quote an anime line, did you?"
I groaned. "Can't I just call and say the date went well?"
"You can. I'm just making sure you didn't embarrass us as a species."
I laughed, falling back on the bed. "It went great. Actually… better than great."
There was a pause.
"You serious?"
"Yeah. I think… I think there's something real here."
"Damn," Kenji said, voice softening. "I'm proud of you, man."
"Also, were you… were you watching from a distance?"
"…No."
"Kenji."
"Okay, maybe from across the bookstore window. But only because I care."
I burst into laughter, unable to stop.
"You're insane," I said.
"You're welcome."
Across the city, Lin was curled up on her couch, wrapped in a blanket, phone resting against her ear.
"He didn't flinch when I opened up," she said. "He just listened. Like, really listened. I didn't expect that."
Kayla's voice was warm. "He's always seemed genuine. A little awkward, but in a good way."
Lin smiled to herself. "I think I like him. Not just the idea of him. Him."
There was a pause.
"He makes me feel like… maybe I don't have to be strong all the time."
"Do you trust him?" Kayla asked.
"I think I do," Lin said quietly. "And it feels kind of terrifying."
"But kind of good?"
Lin nodded to herself. "Yeah. Kind of really good."