“You’re awake.” I said, my hand trying to cover my hysterical expression.

The chuckles resided into phases of giggles. “Mm, it’s pretty early isn’t it?” I nodded back. “But it’s no big deal. I always wake up at this time at my own house—guess I need to change that, huh?” A weary smile tugged at his lips.

Without much thought, I agreed with a grunt, moving into the kitchen. The curry was still in its pot, its silver glow reminding me of yesterday’s embarrassing event. To forget, I frowned in distain and ladled the leftovers into a bowl of cold rice. With a small beep and a whir, the microwave started up, reheating my breakfast as I padded towards the dark leather couch. The silence that engulfed the two of us broke with a resounding shatter, both of our heads flicking up at the kitchen, the green numbers mocked both of us as it flickered 0:00. I scowled, cutting off the derisive numbers mid-flash with a soft tap. It was just a beep, no need to get so jumpy.

Gingerly, I lifted the steaming plate out of its humid container, quickly shuffling to the living room and placing the glass disc onto the table with a loud clatter. Len jumped, his own plate tilting dangerously against his crossed legs and we both scrambled to keep the food centered. In the returning air of peace, even the tiniest of sighs would be easily mistaken as an overwhelming gasp.  Neither of us could stand how motionless the air continued to be, but we both understood that none of us would muster enough courage or strength to upset the quiet atmosphere. Len attempted to break the silence using electronics, but although I was appreciative to see Len trying to break the thin wall forming between us,—and yet, despite our efforts, it’s continuing its rapid construction—I didn’t really appeal to television or really any TV shows. As if reading my mind, Len switched the channels, absentmindedly browsing through the worst of the worst, staying rarely more than a split second on each show as they shot its own burst of action before cutting off into another.

“Geez, I don’t remember when TV this much.” Len mumbled bitterly.

I smirked, but as small as it was, Len caught my expression and returned it with a smile. “Tell me about it.” I watched with cool amusement as Len prepared himself for, possibly, the rant of his lifetime. However, before he raised his hopes too high, I cut him off before we nose-dived into his hour-long tirade. “I’m kidding, I don’t care.”

He sighed almost depressingly. “And here I thought it was too good to be true.”

A chuckle escaped my lips as I retreated from the couch. “Then you should’ve expected so.”

“Oh?” Len murmured, surprised. “Where are you going?”

As I gently placed my empty plate into the dish rack, I replied with mild composition, “Just going to take a short shower,” I paused, lips curving into a sly smile before pursing into an arrogant pout. “You dare peek, I’ll kick you out.” Len flashed his palms in a gesture of surrender, his astonished eyes opened wide at my sudden silly snap. I departed with a quiet giggle.

Today it seemed that I had a tiny shift at the café, and I sat pondering for the water remained cold, thinking that it wasn’t very responsible to avoid a job I had just received however short it was. Steam continued to accumulate within the small room and thickened to a point where it grew hard for me to see in front of me. To combat this annoyance, I flipped the small switch next to the lights, the soft hum of the vent fan reassured that the steam would leave shortly. I stripped myself of my nightclothes and entered the shower, its glass warped and beaded with water.

I tried to keep my shower as a short refresher rather than one that consists of doing nothing except standing in the downpour of warm water, cringing at how cold the air would be when the spray would cease. In my mind, this is immediately translated to, “a shower that was simply dragged out.”

Clad with another monochrome outfit that was a little bolder than yesterday, I walked back into the living room with a damp towel sitting on my shoulders. I lifted a corner of the beige square and dried my hair with loose rubs that made the already messy knots into clumps. I scowled, not bothering to untangle them as I walked into the main room.

Len greeted me with a grin. “Back already? Did you have fun?”

Ignoring his sarcastic query, I studied his own exterior—not in the least surprised to see his bland palette of clothing unchanged. I sighed and headed towards the door, listening to Len’s panicked calls while zipping up my taupe boots.

“But what am I going to do alone?” He said his light eyebrows scrunched with worry. He let out a strained snicker, which I looked at him in confusion for a moment and turned away quickly after.

I shouldered my bag before replying, my voice taking on a monotone-like pitch. “Watch TV, read, eat, I don’t care.”

I caught the curl of Len’s lip dip as his face took on an appearance of a silly sort of alarm. “Wait here.” He said before dashing off into his room. It didn’t take long until he arrived, his plain white wife-beater top now decorated with numbers of layers. Plaid, ed flannel shirts hung limp and wrinkled while an oversized vest sat atop his shoulders. A couple of chains hooked against the pockets of his faded jeans, and his bangs were as ruffled as ever. The longer I kept my eyes on Len the stronger the twinge of an unknown emotion grew. With narrowed eyes, I tried to locate which feeling this was, and began to wonder if this was the fashion-related jealousy Miku felt. I turned to the door, unlocking the brass knob with a dull click and left the verdict as a mystery.

“What? Do you not have faith in yourself?” I asked the tone of my voice deepening as I stepped out into the terrace.

He followed with an almost pet-like affection, slipping out of the door just before it slammed shut. “Nah, I just don’t enjoy being alone. Oh, remember to lock the door.” Len reminded me quickly.

With an inaudible sigh, I obediently locked the pale doors before clambering down the metal stairs, Len still trailing behind. We moved quickly, making it to the café earlier than anticipated. During the time we pranced around the noisy city Len’s eyes darted to and fro, silently drinking in the “new” scenery with newfound curiosity. From time to time, I had to raise my hand to prevent Len from running into the streets. No wonder he’d rather drive than walk.

“G’morning.” Lily greeted us while fumbling with the chairs. “You’re early.”

“Mm,” I mumbled while placing my purse onto a table. “Len’s here too.”

The tap and scrape of the chairs’ metal legs continued. “I see. ‘Sup Len?”

I avoided any more conversations with the employees and only exchanged few words with the customers. Doing so caused time to pass by slowly, but I easily shrugged off this boring phase and continued to lock my mind onto work.  Stopping as another satisfied consumer left, I checked behind the counter at the forever-ticking clock. The face read ten ‘til twelve. I sighed. My shift ended at noon. Seeing the glint of beautiful pink hair outside the window, I prepared myself to leave, thankful that she came to replace me as a worker.

“Len, I’m done. Let’s go.” I called into Lily’s “private” room.

“Alright, I’m coming.” Len replied cheerfully, an awkward smile on his face looking as if someone stuck it on crooked. He exited the room with an equally enthusiastic Lily at his shoulders.

Lily blew out a relieved puff of air, untangling her arms from Len’s torso after flashing an innocent smile towards my direction. She greeted the flustered Luka quickly as she walked in. “Ah, Rin, since you’re roomies with Len shouldn’t you guys be on, like, speed dial or something? I mean, it’d be really hard to look through all those contacts, right?” She slurred in a way where even I had thought she was a bit drunk.

Len smirked as he adjusted his layers to look a little more presentable, but he let out another strange snicker. “I’m cool with that. How about you, Rin?”

He caught my attention when he spoke my name. “Hm?” I mumbled, digging through my purse for my golden-colored flip phone. “It’s set,” I said after confirming that his number was categorized in speed dial, waiting for him to do the same.

“Now with a press of a button, you guys can call each other!” Lily chimed, stretching out her arms to emphasize the, “call each other,” section of her statement. I ignored this and began to head for the door, shouldering my purse.

“Have fun.” I blatantly told Luka, as Len and I strolled out of the café.

She smirked in response, her glossy lips stretching out wide in amusement. “I will.”

The bell chimed coolly as Len and I walked out, both of us greeted by the fresh scent of cherry blossoms and the soft warmth of the low sun. Bustling customers darted in and out of various buildings like fish in a decorated fish bowl, each having their own unique expression and attire, like fish. If I had to choose, Len and I would be a monotone koi alongside a cheerful clownfish, both swimming at their own pace, and both reactions completely opposite.

I strode slowly on the half-empty sidewalk, Len bounding around a few paces forward. His eyes still darting from building to building, exploring his surroundings with such intense wonder that never ceased to amaze me. Len startled me, abruptly skidding to a halt at a certain shop that I knew was famous for having rather expensive, high-quality clothing. I tilted my head at Len’s pause, his gaze held on a banner of a stony-faced male model in an attractive yet effortless pose. The poser’s head slightly drew back from the camera, his black hair tousled as if scraped back briefly before the photo shoot. His dark eyes narrow, with his thumbs hooked into his pockets of his jacket, which was murky with dark hues of blue. Len looked as if he loved the jacket, as with parted lips he stared at that jacket with such awe and amazement that I began to wonder if I should walk in and buy it for him as a gift.

After a while, Len’s eyes flickered up, catching my confused expression before my features slackened and waved his hands dismissively, chuckling while doing so, “It’s not that I can buy it anyways, even if it’s on sale, I don’t have the money.” He looked in the store again and laughed, “It’s not even in stocks…”

I grinned slightly, almost sad that he’s unable to gain the special jacket of his. “Well you can look at it for a little longer—I don’t mind.”

Len turned, now fully facing me, his expression filled with such gratefulness that I almost turned away due to its light. Squinting my eyes in an awkward grin, I nodded him to continue with his gawking—the feeling very similar to how a mother says, “Go on,” to her child when he wants to participate in a game.

Len’s cerulean eyes beamed at me, his joyful smile remained on his face as he turned and gazed at the picture with such awe I felt like Len is destined to have that jacket, as ridiculous as it was. I nearly burst with laughter at the thought, holding it all back at the last moment caused me to almost choke.

Briefly, I heard fits of coughing, at first thinking that they came from my own parched throat, but my heart jumped as I realized my dear friend had a momentary attack.

 “Len!” I gasped, steadying him from his outbursts as his whole body shook.

Even with brief contact, I could feel soft heat radiating from his body. Although it was only subtle, I continued to worry that his heath may become worse. I wouldn’t want someone who’s residing in my apartment to become too ill, it’d affect me eventually, and I’d hate to miss even a minute of class.

“I-I’m okay, really…” Len said weakly as he shook off my arm, his face slightly flushed from either the effort, the weather, or the anxiety. “I didn’t really want you to worry about me. I just wanted a—” He coughed into his sleeve, “I really wanted to spend time with you Rin.” He let out a small, broken chuckle. “But even so—”

I sighed almost irritably. “Len, we’re going home. I don’t want you to get worse, that’d be terrible—school begins tomorrow.” I stated, grabbing his arm and tugging it towards the direction where I assumed was the location of the apartments. His feet, however, for a split second remained locked on his original spot below the promotion banner.

Len quickly lowered his head in defeat, reluctantly moving away from the poster. Knowing that I was determined to take him home even with complaining, Len remained silent the rest of the way, but seemed a bit miserable in my eyes. Nevertheless, I did my best to ignore his sorrowful expression and sustained to moving, the tapping of my boots and the scraping of Len’s shoes seemed never ending. Although having to stop only a couple of times before crosswalk lights turned green and swerved out of bikers’ paths twice, Len and I managed to arrive at my apartment door later than I wanted. I’m unsure whether it was because of Len’s petulant form of sass or if it was just the well-timed manner of civilians and technology that caused us to be late.

I quickly shoved my keys into the lock that didn’t seem to want to cooperate, and roughly threw the door open, almost tossing Len inside with the same amount of force and quickly commanded him to lie on the couch. He obeyed like a pet, slowly crawling onto the couch cushions with silent misery, and he lay there patiently waiting for me. Shortly, I walked towards the couch with a bowl of steaming red miso, hoping that the soup may aid Len in his recovery.

“Please drink slowly.” I spoke softly, kneeling by Len as I attempted to assist him as he sat up.

Although Len didn’t seem sick enough that he needed support when repositioning, I never cared for an ill person before, and aided him despite his fluid movements. This feeling of forced gentleness and warmness was bizarre, but felt possibly soothing. It was a new feeling again introduced by Len, one who has claimed countless “firsts” in my life. It was probably the most common feeling I had felt that evening.

Len let out one of his strange snorts with transformed into harsh coughs. I only then realized that those forced snickers were simply coughs that Len attempted to hide. I noted the light sheen of sweat beading his face as his breathe quickened and grew shallow. Holding anything in your body seemed unhealthy to me—especially coughs—and I remembered sullenly that Len was straining himself with masking his sickness since the morning. I lightly hit myself on the head. Why didn’t I notice this earlier?

“Stay down, Len,” I murmured, “I’m going to leave to buy some groceries to help you—I’ll be back soon.”

He jerked up in panic, frantically moving his lips, stammering, attempting to come up with a reliable excuse to come with me, but was unable to find anything that wasn’t contradictory. He hung his head in shame and waved me away, telling me to continue and leave as if my presence made him suffer. My eyebrow twitched at this childish action, but I ignored it and turned away.

“You’ll be alright; I said I’ll be back soon.”

Len looked at me dejectedly and slowly rolled back, gently laying his back onto the sofa’s armrest cushioned by a monochrome pillow. His arm was up over his eyes as his other lay resting, dejected on his stomach, Len’s saddened expression half hidden besides his frown peeking from under his sleeve. “…Fine.”

I padded back to the door and prepared myself to leave, not disregarding my wallet. “Don’t forget to drink all your soup, and go sleep right after. I’ll prepare dinner for tonight.”

He grunted softly, turning so his face was against the cushions and mumbled a muffled, “Bye.”

I let out a crooked grin. “I’m leaving.”