Rebuilding

(Akane's PoV)

-

Yes. Shin needed to know everything. That was part of our promise.

Telling each other everything. No secrets. 

I was going to tell him everything, from the first thing that happened with Kurone's pregnancy test to my mother sobbing on the floor, and also the fact that I would've helped both Kenji and her.

I knew it would've been hard and that it would've hurt. But my heart also knew that he would hold me tight, the same way he held me through everything.

But right now, right there, in our kitchen, I was going to eat something, steal food off his plate, make fun of him for all the mistakes he had made with that song, and I was going to let the evening be a peaceful moment for as long as I could hold it.

"Shin," I called him. 

He turned to me almost immediately. 

"What is it, Akane?" He asked.

"I love you." That's the only thing I said.

I saw his body reacting to my words, and the instant of silence that came after it.

"You already said that upstairs," He smiled.

"And I'm saying that again. This is a limited-time offer. Accept it before I change my mind. I'll give you a small hint: refusing love from your beautiful and perfect girlfriend means death." I teased.

His reply? He sighed. 

But I couldn't blame him. I know I am such an annoying girl, and that's difficult to deal with. Guess what? I still have flaws.

'If I were him, I would've broken up with me more than a thousand times. This guy is truly an angel.'

"Accepted." He then said, getting back to prepare. "Well, not that I had a choice."

"Dumbhead, you should've said 'I'm grateful to have such an amazing girlfriend like you!' Tch— I'm gonna make you pay." I said, but there was no malice in my voice. I was feeling better. Much better.

"Let me properly prepare dinner, or we'll both be poisoned. I don't want to die before marrying you, thanks." He said, his voice soft.

I felt my heart skipping a beat.

"You're impossible, I swear. That's what I love about you. I mean... how can you tolerate someone so annoying like me? Are you a saint?" I then stepped closer to him. 

"Oh? Someone has some self-consciousness here; I'm surprised." He said, giggling. "And I'm not a saint. I'm just someone who has decided to be happy." 

I couldn't reply to that. Not at all. I just let out a small laugh too.

But I was happy. For those moments, at least.

I then kissed the back of his neck on my way to the table, making him almost spill the oil. 

"I'm allowed to do these surprise attacks, right? This is our home," I said, wrapping my arms around his waist from behind. "Mmmh... you're so warm..." I snuggled into him.

"That's not me. It's the boiling water." He said. "And yeah. I'll allow these attacks as long as you don't stab me with a knife."

"Don't worry about that," I replied. "I would never stab my personal, ultra-comfortable body pillow."

"Jeez..." He sighed. "So... about this rice... Extra spicy? I just remembered that I should have some spices I bought months ago for no particular reason. They're still unopened." 

"Oh? What kind? I'm curious." I said, moving back from him and sitting at the table.

"Mmmh. I guess..." He rubbed his chin and looked at the wall like a philosopher. "...Shichimi Togarashi, Ichimi Togarashi, Wasabi... I guess these three. Oh, I also have Sanshō." He snapped his fingers, as he had found the solution to a big problem.

"That's great. So great. I love those, so let's go with all of them," I said, leaning back in the chair with my arms crossed. "Hit me with your worst, Chef Ishikawa."

"I think that using all four at once would be a war crime against your stomach, Akane." He teased.

"Trust me. My stomach has survived things that a weakling like you can't imagine, Ishikawa. It has been hardened by years of convenience store onigiri, instant ramen, and energy drinks. Some little spices won't scare me. I'm sure." I said.

He looked at me for an instant. His face was literally screaming, 'Are you serious right now?' Cute.

"Okay." He said before opening the cabinet and lining up the jars on the counter like a scientist. "Then... we're making mazesoba."

"Oh?" I was amused.

"Dry ramen. Thick noodles. No broth. Ground pork, soft-boiled egg, green onion, nori." He then held up the Shichimi Togarashi jar. "And we'll burn it to the ground with these. What do you think?"

"Oh, oh. Now you're speaking my language, Ishikawa. You truly surprised me." I gave him a thumbs up.

And then, he cooked the way he always did: quietly and efficiently, in complete silence. 

He was completely focused on what he was doing, and that made me think about all the times he cooked for himself like this while he was alone. I watched my masterpiece with a tender smile.

The pork hit the pan, and the kitchen filled with the smell of garlic and soy while I sat at the table with my chin in my hand and my eyes on him. 

For a few minutes, the only sound was the sizzle and click of the utensils and the low hum of the extractor fan.

The mazesoba came together fast. 

He plated it in two wide bowls, sliced the egg, scattered the green onion, and then set both jars in the middle of the table that said, 'Proceed at your own risk. I take no responsibility.'

And I started eating almost immediately.

Two generous shakes of Shichimi on the pork, a pinch of Sanshō over the egg, and a third shake of Shichimi because the first two hadn't been generous enough considering my standards.

Shin looked at me almost in disbelief.

"Akane... that's enough to kill a person," He said.

"You should know that I'm not a normal human, Ishikawa," I smiled mischievously.

Then, I mixed everything with my chopsticks, brought the first bite to my mouth, and chewed.

The heat arrived in layers.

The Shichimi first, with its seven-spice blend spreading across my tongue with that familiar tingle I always loved. 

Then it was the turn of the Sanshō. It arrived late, hitting the back of my tongue with that right numbness that made my mouth feel like it was vibrating.

"Oh," I said, heat rising in me.

"Was that... a good 'oh', or a hospital one, Akane?" Shin asked, clearly worried.

I stood silent for a few moments, looking at his panicked expression for a little longer.

"This... this is amazing." I then took another bite. And another. "Shin. This is really, really good, you know? The Sanshō with the egg feels criminal. Where did you learn to cook like this?"

"Let's say that cooking was one of my hidden 'talents' before it became a survival thing." He smiled at me. "But this was nothing special. It's all thanks to the spices I'd never opened and a girl who likes to eat fire for fun."

"Well... I've just decided that you'll cook for me every day. No objections, darling. My survival will now depend on you." I said, smiling.

I saw how he liked to cook. He should do it more often. If I'm the one who shares his meals every day, maybe cooking will make him feel better again.

"Well... Once again, I have no choice." He sighed.

"Good boy, you're learning!" I gave him another thumbs up. "Now, come sit, ghost boy, or I'll die from lack of affection." 

Without any other word, he sat down across from me and started eating from his own bowl. He used only one-tenth of the spice load, as a reasonable human being would.

Then, our dinner settled into the easy rhythm I needed. 

We ate and talked about nothing in particular. We insulted each other most of the time.

"You know, your noodle technique is terrible, Ishikawa," I said, watching him chase a stubborn strand around the bowl. "You're chasing it. Stop chasing it like a baby. Pin it against the side and scoop, dumbhead." 

"Thank you for this lesson, Takanashi-sensei." He sighed.

"You're welcome, darling. This is included in the Akane's girlfriend package. It comes along with fashion consulting, emotional support, and occasional cute death threats." 

"Damn... That sounds beautiful, you know?" His tone was unreadable, but clearly mocking.

"That's the brand, baby boy," I said.

And then, I stole a piece of his egg, but he pretended not to notice. 

That's why I stole a second one.

This time, he stopped pretending. 

"There's egg in your own bowl, Akane." He said. "Why are you stealing mine?"

"Your food always taste better, Ishikawa. It's been scientifically established." I said, eating that egg.

"Oh. I'm curious. By whom?" 

"By me, obviously. I'm the scientist and the reviewer. The results are conclusive." I said, my voice professional.

Shin sighed the sigh of a man who has accepted his lot in life.

And I kept going, because for some reason, this was the medicine I needed. I knew it.

Every stupid joke was a brick in the wall I'd lost in that living room. Every insult was a small act of reconstruction.

During those moments, I could feel myself being rebuilt, bite by bite, and I was going to let it happen for as long as the dinner lasted.

But then, somewhere between the last bite of noodles and the first silence, I remembered.

"Ah." I set my chopsticks down. "Tomorrow is the day we have to see that walking gyaru virus, isn't it?" I asked, my fists clenching a little.

"Unfortunately, yes. I had forgotten, to be honest. Thanks for bringing that up." He stretched his arms.

"Yeah, the rehearsal. Right after the lessons end." I narrowed my eyes at my empty bowl. "I'll make sure to bring an extra knife in case her little friends get ideas about touching you."

Shin looked at me for a second before speaking.

"Well, you could also bring a gun, for all I care. Just make sure you hit the right targets and not me." He giggled.

I couldn't help but laugh too since he really caught me off guard.

"Oh?" I leaned forward on my elbows, grinning at him. "Do you realize that you're becoming like me, Ishikawa? You're developing an actual personality. And you're more attractive than usual tonight. I'm literally restraining my body from jumping on you." 

He looked into my eyes with a softness I could directly feel on my skin.

"I owe it all to a girl who saved me on a school roofìtop on Valentine's Day." He paused, thoughtful. "Actually, no. I owe it to the girl who gave me these earrings."

I frowned. Hard.

"Remember that I will always be Hoshiko's number one," I said. "Don't get any weird ideas."

"The only thing that matters is that I'm your number one." He said, trying to sound romantic. But no, he had to pay for what he said.

"No." I held up a finger. "First place will always go to food." Another finger. "Second is Lilibat." A third. "Third is reserved for my guitars." A fourth. "Then you." I smiled mischievously. "You're in my top five. You should be honored."

Shin looked at me with a very flat face. It was funny.

Then, with the speed of someone who had been waiting for that specific opening, his chopsticks darted across the table, speared the last small meatball from the side dish on my plate, and then delivered it to his mouth.

He chewed.

Not breaking eye contact.

Unforgivable.

"SHIN." My voice was deadly.

"That's the consequence for fourth place," He said through the meatball.

"Okay, this is your final sentence, Ishikawa. Capital punishment. Death. The moment you fall asleep tonight, I will have my revenge. And it will be the worst thing you've ever experienced in your whole life." I said, standing up.

"Oh no." His voice was perfectly monotone. "How terrifying. My skin is crawling." 

"I'll kill you," I whispered, but with no malice, of course.

And then, after that little fight, we cleaned up together, moving around each other in the kitchen like a married couple.

He washed. I dried. Our elbows even bumped twice, and neither of us mentioned it.

Then, after some time, the kitchen was perfectly clean, and the evening was quiet.

The couch was waiting in the living room, literally calling for us.

Shin and I glanced at each other for an instant before nodding.

He sat down first, and then I climbed onto him.

Our normal clingy girlfriend position. My favorite.

And then he reached for the remote and put something on, just for background noise.

He chose something foreign, badly dubbed, with a plot that appeared to involve a haunted lighthouse and an actress who kept running in heels.

This is genuinely the worst movie ever, I swear," I said.

"It even has a 1.3 score on every review site. This is funny, to be honest." He said.

"So why did you pick it, dumbhead?" 

"Because nothing in it requires emotional investment." He said, smiling. 

His hand was slowly patting my hair, while his other free arm was around my waist.

I looked up at him, and he looked down at me.

And in that moment, I understood why he had chosen it. We needed something to fill the room that wasn't silence. Because silence could be even louder than words, sometimes, and so that whatever came next could arrive at its own pace, without the pressure of a quiet room.

I took a deep breath.

"Perfect," I said. "This movie is so terrible that I'm now confident I can tell you everything that happened today without crying." 

Shin's hand kept petting my hair, relaxing me.

"Only if you feel ready, Akane. Don't force yourself. I want to see your stupid smiles even more." He said softly.

"You're such a bad sweet talker, darling," I teased, my index finger gently tracing patterns on his forearm.

"I know..." He sighed.

And then, I looked at the screen again, where a woman in heels was running from a lighthouse that was, apparently, screaming.

"I'm ready, Shin." That's all I said.