The clock on the oven blinked at 12:30 AM. Shoko glanced at the time before gazing back at the knife in her hand. She focused on the vegetables, chopping them slowly. She blinked, her eyes begging for sleep but her mind unable to rest. She never thought she would have to hide out here. The house's interior was unfamiliar, but the severity of its very being weighed in her mind. She hated laying low, out of sight from the powers that chased her small group. She hated that she couldn't go home, literal blocks from where she stood. What she hated most was perhaps the face of the man that owned this house. The wings that adorn his back, his smirk, his way of fighting back on everything he said.
The way he could enter a room silently.
Ryota leaned against the wall, watching her silently. Shoko glanced up, jumping slightly at his sudden presence.
“What are you doing?”
She snapped, her voice cold and sharp. He met her eyes, silent for a moment before responding.
“Better question, what are you doing in my kitchen past midnight?”
His voice. She hated his voice the most. Its low, smooth tone that somehow she couldn't get enough of.
“Cooking. Obviously.”
She grumbled out, her focus returning to the knife in her hand and the cabbage on the cutting board. She heard him move, leaning against the side of the counter.
“And what would you be cooking so late?”
He sounded nothing short of amused. She glared back at him.
“Kimchi.”
Her voice was short, but her eyes remained fixed on his. His gaze softened slightly. They were fixed like that for minutes it seemed, silent, tension filling the room.
“Why do you hate me Shoko?”
His voice cut the silence in half. Her eyes widened slightly, surprised at both his blunt wording, and the hurt in his voice.
“I.. I don't hate you-”
She muttered quickly after, her voice significantly softer than before.
“You act like you do. Every day.”
He argued back quietly. Shoko stayed silent, now stiffer than before.
“You glare at me, you snap, you argue. I don't understand why, or what I did. Is it your father who said something about me? I don't want you to hate me anymore Shoko.”
His voice was firmer, he leaned closer to her, yet still leaving her plenty of personal space.
She thought for a minute, toiled on whether to be truthful or to push him away. She never hated him, she hated everything about him because of how it made her feel. She hated the way he smirked when she couldn't come up with a quick come back, and how she never wanted him to stop. She hated the wings on his back that challenged her own power and she hated how much she wanted to be engulfed in them. She hated the way he saw through every little thing about her, watching her like a hawk. She couldn't hide anything from him.
“I don't hate you Ryota.”
She started slow, quiet. For once, her voice was soft. She took a breath.
“I don't know how to act with you. You.. confuse me. My brain goes fuzzy and all I know how to do is fight back.”
She was stiff, unused to sharing how she felt to anyone. They watched each other in silence. Ryota broke it once again.
“When we first met, we were 16 and your brother had dragged you out to hang with his friends. You sat in the corner of the party, the whole time. I remember thinking how much I wanted to talk to you.. That never ended, Shoko. I want to know you-”
He stepped closer to her, she didn't step back.
“I want to know why you can't trust people. I want to know why you fight me on everything. I want to know why the hell you’re making Kimchi at midnight.”
He chuckled quietly.
“I have liked you for years.. And I know you’ve liked me too. Just.. Let me be there for you, let me in.”
She set the knife down. She stayed silent. He was completely right. She didn't know how to react, though it was clear on her face how she felt. Shocked? Partially. Anxious? Slightly. Mostly she felt seen. A foreign feeling, she didn't know how to process it.
“I struggle.. With emotions sometimes. I.. Am sorry for fighting you.. I don't hate you, you’re right.”
They both seemed a little surprised at the mutual confession. It was awkward. The air seemed stiff. His hands hovered at his side. She was quickly aware of how close he was, he seemed aware as well. The tension flowed around them, suffocating the air. The tense moment was broken sharply when a door into the kitchen opened. Shoko stepped back, her gaze snapping to the doorway. Hana leaned on the open doorway with an almost smug smirk.
“Am I interrupting?
Her voice was painfully amused. Shoko and Ryota both flushed a quick, deep red. Ryota glanced back at Shoko before shaking his head.
“No. I was just saying goodnight.”
He muttered before leaving, still flushed red.
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