When they got back to the homestay, a strange feeling was rising in Tzuyu’s heart. She felt at home. She knew she wouldn’t be able to leave this place. She loved every detail of it, the simple yet elegant furniture, the sound of crashing waves afar and the scent of candles. She loved Sana even more. It was beyond anything she could ever have imagined. It was sweet and hurtful, bright and dark, like the best and worst combined.

It was a mess. They were a mess. 

Sana placed the two bowls of noodles in front of them, crouching to sit on the couch. 

- Will you let me explain? 

Sana asked, trying to read Tzuyu’s expression. 

- Yeah, yeah, totally. 

Tzuyu gave her a quick thumb up. She thought she was good at pretending, but Sana was better at guessing. 

- Are you still mad at me? 

Sana tilted her head. Her endearing eyes caused Tzuyu to become weak in the knees. 

- Am I mad at you? Do I have the right to get mad at you? Sana, I barely know about you. 

Tzuyu sighed, burying her face in her palms in a distressed manner. 

- Be mad at me. Be mad for not having the right to be mad. I should've opened up to you, but I was such a coward. 

Sana mumbled softly, before she cupped Tzuyu’s cheeks and lifted her head up by her hands. 

- Can you tell me about you? About your family and friends? The beach? And your cigarettes? 

Tzuyu put her hand on top of Sana’s and they intertwined. 

Minatozaki Sana. 24. Homestay owner. No family, no friends. She loves the beach. If you have no idea where she is, she’s probably at the beach. Cigarettes? It was an awful habit she picked up from the local people. 

- It tasted good. A bit addictive. 

Sana let out a breathy chuckle. 

- Let me taste it. 

Tzuyu said. 

- Sure, go ahead. 

Sana pointed at the pack of cigarettes. 

- No, your lips, let me taste it. Does it taste like cigarettes? 

Tzuyu questioned her, utterly sober.