Thanks for the Memories

He melded so easily into her life that she wondered how there was a time when he wasn't around. Neighbour!AU

A/n: To anyone that follows my tumblr... remember me posting like a list of potential plots for a Neighbour!AU, and some of you voted for the ones you like? Guess what? None on the list made it to this fic. Why? Because this fic possessed me instead of the other way round and now I'm stuck with this *sobs* Nonetheless, hope you'll enjoy this long-ass fic that's not even completed :')

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Even though Aoko had a private interview last year after her second book got into the best-selling list, it still felt like it happened just yesterday.

"How do you get the inspiration to start?"

Everything, basically. Things inspired her. People inspired her. Current news inspired her. Anything and everything was enough to inspire her. It was so, so simple—But that was all in the past, before her second book hit the shelves.

For the past few months since her editor called to remind her of her non-existent idea plan, Aoko was stuck with her blank draft and impending deadlines that constantly haunted her. It was the worst thing that happened to her in history (maybe it was an exaggeration in general, but what could be worse than writer's block for authors?) So, just last week, something akin to desperation made her go all the way out and beyond the country to visit a famous shrine, where she prayed for motivation and inspiration to come her way even at the stake of witnessing a crime herself.

And this was her first, painful lesson to not wish for things she didn't mean.

'Click, click'

As quietly as she could, Aoko closed the tiny door gap and gently released her knob before all hell broke loose in her head.

WHAT IS GOING ON?!

Was it a trick of light? Or a hallucination that came due to the lack of sleep? She tried convincing herself of anything other than the fact she had witnessed a burglar in action, but the image of what she had seen still burnt brightly in her mind—a man was standing along the corridor, his back bent and hands tinkering with the knob of the apartment's door next to hers, which no one was supposed to be staying in now.

And all she wanted was to go to the store to get ice cream for her midnight snack.

Keep calm Aoko. Even if anything happens, you know your defences well. She comforted herself (though the truth was she hadn't been practicing her Judo moves many years since her hands were much busy typing on the computer instead). Besides, she was safe in her own home now while the burglar was still…

Aoko leaned against the door.

'Click, click.'

Ok, still definitely outside. She should make a move too. She grabbed her phone from her dining table and dialled.

"110, please state your emergency." It was a female voice, not that it helped to calm her in any way.

"Hi, yes." Aoko whispered and stepped away from the door in case the burglar heard her. "There is a suspicious man outside the apartment next to mine and he's trying to get in. I think he's a burglar."

"Please remain calm and give your name and address, miss."

After Aoko told the operator everything, she was assured that a nearby patrol car would be on its way. The operator asked if Aoko wanted her to stay on the line, but the extreme relief made her reject the offer. She added a compliment for the fabulous job before the call went dead, and two seconds later she found herself very much aware of the fact that she was alone.

Maybe she should have kept the operator on the line.

What should I do now? Aoko glanced around her house, trying to find an answer until her eyes laid on the notepad on the kitchen counter.

Aha, maybe she could distract herself with her expertise and write about what she saw. And in case the police needed her statement for the suspect's descriptions, it would be useful. Fishing out a pen she always kept in her back pocket, she tore a paper out of the notepad and began to write:

He was tall, with broad shoulders and built that was resulted from numerous visits to the gym, but his well-proportionate shape gave the impression he went there to keep fit rather than to impress. He kept his face shaved and clean, which didn't fit the unkemptness he allowed his black hair to be. It could be genetics, or that was exactly the style his was going for as it paired casually with his white shirt and jeans…

Aoko cringed as she stared at the paper. She highly doubted the police would want such weirdly, detailed details, but her hands just reacted to what her brain thought (Trust her to whip out a paragraph just by peeping through a small gap for less than five seconds). Now that she was done with her little distraction… what else should she do? Should she risk another peek? But what if she wasn't lucky enough and the burglar spotted her?

Maybe she could do another hearing check. She placed the paper on her kitchen counter and crept towards the door, leaning against it to pick for any sound of movement.

There was nothing.

She pressed half of her face to the door and strained her hearing again.

Nothing. Completely nothing.

There was only one possibility to the silence outside; The burglar had entered the apartment.

This is bad. Aoko scurried to her balcony.

If the burglar was dumb enough to invest his energy in such a neighbourhood instead of other districts where the mansions and rich condominiums were, it wouldn't be surprising if the dumb burglar eventually realized there was nothing to rob next door and decided to climb over to her balcony, just because he was dumb to think there was no one at home too.

Apparently the designer of the apartment building must have had the idea of creating a friendly community between the neighbours, which lead to the balconies being built closely together with no walls in between. Aoko wasn't sure how her other neighbours living below her floor felt, but at least she was fine on her side as there wasn't anyone staying next door since the first day she first moved in two years ago. After all, Jii—the landlord—had mentioned it would be kept empty due to personal reasons.

Now she regretted not minding when this happened. But again, what were the chances?

Just as Aoko was about to lock her balcony door, she noticed a flash of red light below the building. With curiosity overwhelming her more than fear, she nearly forgotten about the burglar and slipped onto her balcony, leaning forward to see what was causing the flashing red light. It was a parked police car.

The moment she identified the car came a soft knock from the door.

Save! The police are here!

She dashed to open her front door.

"..."

"..."

It wasn't the police.

"Hey." The burglar said.

Aoko heard the door slam shut first before she realized she had closed it. But a second later, she realized she hadn't exactly closed it, and there was a grunting sound she didn't recognise; It didn't come from her.

The burglar slapped her door, trying to push it open. "Goddamn it woman-! You're gonna break my foot."

"I've already called the police and they're coming! Don't try pulling tricks!"

"Wait- what?" The burglar growled and slapped the door even harder. "And I'm not pulling tricks. My foot is going to break if you continue to-"

"This is the Police." Aoko could hear the thumping of footsteps before two police officers appeared behind the burglar. "What is the situation here?"

They finally arrived! "Arrest him!" She exclaimed, while continuously squashing her body to keep the door shut between his foot and door frame. "He's the burglar!"

.o.

"He's not a burglar."

The police handed the ID back to the 'burglar' before returning another ID to Jii, who had come down to explain the situation. And as what Aoko and the police were told, apparently the 'burglar', named Kuroba Kaito, was her new neighbour, and was just trying to get into his apartment.

The police officer shut his tiny notebook and nodded. "If there's nothing else, we'll be leaving." He turned to look at Aoko, as if waiting for a confirmation. She could only force a weak smile back before they headed to the stairs at the end of the corridor.

"I'm so sorry, Aoko-chan." Jii said, his face scrunched in guilt once the policemen left. "Even though it was a last minute decision, I still failed to inform you about Kaito-botchama's arrival."

"It's fine. It's not exactly your fault. It's a…" Aoko flicked a gaze towards Kaito, who was nonchalantly picking some dirt under his nail. She looked back at Jii with a smile. "It's a misunderstanding."

"I still have to apolo-"

"You've done enough apologising, Jii-chan." Kaito drawled. "Someone, however, has yet to do hers."

A muscle in Aoko's cheek twitched. "I'll apologise for troubling Jii-san to come all the way here in the middle of the night. But I'll not apologise for calling the police."

Kaito raised an eyebrow, silently questioning her with a perplexed look.

"Anyone would obviously think you're a burglar with how suspicious you are outside the door. Naturally, one would call the police. I'm just doing what every other humans would do." She crossed her arms, her throat aching at how she was trying to sound confident (His focused gaze was definitely not helping).

"What about my foot?" He wiggled said foot.

Aoko blushed. Okay, she did intend to apologise and hadn't gotten to it yet, but… "Why did you knock on my door anyway?"

"There's something wrong with the knob and I couldn't open my door. I thought I could use your balcony and climb over-"

"As if I'll believe your explanation and let you in my apartment. I'm not some nine-years old kid."

"That true. You sounded like five when you screamed."

"Jii-san!" Aoko turned and waved a hand over Kaito exasperatedly. "You can't possibly allow such a tenant to stay here!"

The silence was dragged far too long for Aoko's taste.

"There's another thing I've yet to explain, Aoko-chan." Jii's hesitant look made her stomach churn uneasily. "Kaito-botchama isn't just staying here. He's the landlord."

"Landlord…?" Aoko repeated, like the word was the first time she ever heard it. She gaped and glanced at Kaito, his smug face confirming her worst despair to be true. "H-He's the landlord?!"

Jii nodded.

"But I thought you're-"

"I'm helping Kaito-botchama to manage it."

"What is it, Aoko-chan?" Kaito's smirk grew wider. "Scared I'll increase your rent or chase you out? Don't worry. I'm very good at separating my professional and personal life."

Aoko couldn't speak. She lowered her gaze, in attempts to hide the horrification she knew her eyes would look.

"Well, it has been an interesting night." He leaned forward, trying to meet Aoko's eyes, but she pointedly refused to look his way, though her side-long glance she could see his lips curling up to a grin.

"Kaito-botchama." Jii sighed, casting Kaito a weary look. And Aoko recognized the look. It was the same one she used whenever Keiko started spazzing about her lack-of-romance life in the middle of their conversation.

For some reason, Jii's words worked wonders to make Kaito stop like what Aoko was inwardly begging him to. "I'll see you again, Jii-chan." He simply said before heading for the door without sparing them another glance.

After the door shut behind Kaito, Jii turned towards Aoko with an embarrassed look. "Once again, I'm sorry."

"...It's fine." What else could she really say?

"Even though Kaito is the landlord, I'm the one managing the building. I'll make sure he won't increase the rent or chase you out."

"I'm not exactly worried about that. I'm just…" Aoko shook her head. If she started explaining her insecurities of living next to a man like him, she could go on for hours. "Anyway Jii-san, why did you speak so respectably to that guy? You even called him Kaito-botchama."

"He's the son of a master I used to serve."

Aoko snorted. "He's some rich heir?"

"He has his own capabilities."

"Then why is he here?"

Jii smiled, a silent and polite sign of not wanting to say anymore. She got the hint, and changed the conversation. "Anyway do you want to stay in for the night? It's late and I have an extra futon."

"It's okay, I'll be driving back home." He thanked her for the offer. "If there's anything you need, please call me. Goodnight Aoko-san."

"I will, and goodnight."

After watching Jii disappeared down the stairs, Aoko went back inside her apartment and spent the next five minute staring at her walls, wondering which part was connected to the one next door.

Finally annoyed that she had spent more time than she liked thinking about her new neighbour's existence, she stomped towards her bedroom, not without passing by her kitchen counter and spotting the note she previously left. Scornfully, she picked it up and reread what she wrote.

It'd be a good character profile. Aoko thought wryly before flicking the paper back onto the counter. But if she ever used it, though, she would need to make some changes—His hair wasn't black. It was dark brown.

.o.

The first thing Aoko would always do after waking up was to head to her balcony for a quick breath of fresh air. It was an unbreakable routine that she would never change, even if it was already two in the afternoon like now (She had a hard time trying to sleep last night after all). But once she stepped into the afternoon light, the painful realization of how close their balconies were hit her as hard as a truck.

She craned her neck, trying to look past his balcony. She couldn't see anything inside his apartment because of the light shining and reflecting on the glass door, but she could tell it was slightly opened (It had always been shut, with curtains drawn closed since the first day she moved in here).

Aoko knew Jii would keep his promise, and she had studied a little about contract laws to know what Kaito could and could not do, but that wasn't going to cancel her worries about the idea of living next to him…

Giving a resigned sigh (but also grateful she didn't have to see him right after she woke), she returned into her apartment to get herself freshened up. Once she was done, she began ransacking her cupboards and fridge in the kitchen, easily finding plenty of ingredients to cook the fried rice she was thinking about while brushing her teeth. And in the midst of her search, she also found a few extra eggs and some flour too.

The perfect amount to make cupcakes.

Besides writing, Aoko occasionally baked to de-stress herself. It was mind-relaxing and pleasant, and it even once helped to inspire her for a scene in her book, where the murderer suffocated his victim with the dough he used for his cake. Not that she was thinking how she could do the exact same thing with her dough to Kaito, the cupcakes she baked could be used to apologize for his foot.

Yeah. What a brilliant idea.

An hour after gobbling up her rice and decorating her cupcake with chocolate frosting, Aoko found herself shuffling along the corridor with a box of cupcakes in her hands.

Alright. This is going to be easy. Aoko forced herself to smile for better positivity. Give the cupcake. Apologize. Goodbye. Perfect plan. Puffing her chest, she strolled confidently towards the door, to only make a sudden detour at the last second and she was outside of her apartment again. She could argue with herself that she was warming up, if she hadn't been doing the same thing for the past fifteen damn minutes.

She really needed to stop being pathetic.

Taking in a deep breath (for the twenty-seventh time), Aoko dragged her foot towards his door once again and forced them to stay rooted to the ground. She could feel her legs shaking from the tension of her muscles as she slowly raised her hand to knock on the door. And just a millisecond away from doing it, the door suddenly flung open, stunning her still with wide eyes and gaping mouth. Opposite her was Kaito, who was equally surprised at her presence too.

Their staring contest ended when Kaito stepped back and raised his arms in mock defence.

"Wow, is slamming my foot not enough?" He let out a loud, exaggerated gasp. "Now you're here to hit me?"

"I'm- I just want to knock the door!" Aoko flushed and put her hand down. Flustered, and almost forgetting the reason she was here, she hastily shoved the box into his chest, forcing him to take it before she let go. "Here! These are some cupcakes I made, as a-an apology for your foot."

He stared at the box much longer than Aoko liked. "Your tone sounds better than yesterday." He looked up, eyebrows raised. "Is it because you know I'm your landlord?

"I am sorry for your foot, no matter if you're my landlord or not." She glowered. "If you don't want to accept it, that's fine. You can give my cupcakes back."

There was a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Is this a threat?"

Aoko blinked. "What threat?"

"No one will reject free cupcakes. Which means I'm forced to forgive you."

"Fine. You can keep the cupcakes." She gritted her teeth and gave a quick glance at his attire; She didn't remember him bringing any luggage with him yesterday, but he was dressed in something different. "It seems you're going out so I won't bother you anymore. I've apologised and done what I needed to do. Bye."

"I was about to get some food, but I'm settling for this." Kaito spoke before she could leave.

Aoko stared at him, askance. "That's your dinner?"

"Why? Are you going to preach me about calories?"

"No, it's- it's not a proper meal." Aoko murmured. Those years of taking care of her dad came back like part of her instincts. "Cupcakes should be for snacks or desserts."

Kaito smirked. "Is that concern over me?"

She scowled, inwardly berating her slip of tongue. "I'm stating a general fact."

"Then are you going to cook for me?"

"I didn't imply that!" Aoko exclaimed. She noticed his grin grew bigger, as if her anger was some fuel to his psychotic pleasure. He was definitely teasing her on purpose and she wasn't going to fall for that. Taking in a deep breath, Aoko continued. "You can get the food at wherever you are going to go."

"Well, here's a fun fact." He leaned forward, and she leaned back with equal distance. "It's a little troublesome for me to go out because I nearly broke my foot last night."

Aoko could feel her blood boiling. This infuriating-! "Here's another fun fact!" She spat. "For the record, you're the one who stuck your foot in between my door in the first place. And you, being the man, to get hurt from something stupid like that, is too much of a credit for me and my strength. Blame yourself for being weak." With that, she whirled around and stalked off towards her apartment, refusing to turn back to see his possible reaction.

Slamming the door shut behind her, she slumped against the wall and let out a low groan.

What the hell did I just do? Aoko shuddered at her previous outburst and pressed a hand over her chest, feeling her thumping heartbeat. Strangely, he had the special capability to draw out her anger and confidence that no one else could, not that she liked it or anything (It was just weirdly… new to her). But anyway, the main point was she'd apologised and delivered the cupcakes. The end. Her day with her landlord/neighbour was done. Hopefully forever too.

Once she found back her composure and decided to head back to her room to work, she heard the faint sound of Kaito's door closing shut.

.o.

Aoko didn't realise she had fallen asleep until she woke up to the sound of hammering inside her head. It was so loud and sudden that she jolted from her seat, her eyes fluttering around and then at the laptop that was left open in front of her with a blank word document on the screen. She heaved a heavy sigh as she massaged her temples, until she caught sight of the faint ripples inside her glass of water and realised the hammering wasn't coming from her head but the door.

"What the hell?" She frowned, warily standing up from her dining table to stare at the pounding door. Steadying her breath, she trudged forward, half contemplating if she should grab a mop.

"Who's this?" Aoko barked (She'd learnt her lesson to not open the door so easily unless she knew who was on the other side).

"Me, your fabulous landlord." came the muffled voice she recognized.

Her frown deepened. "What-?"

"Just open the door." The knocking grew louder.

Annoyance masking her expression, Aoko opened the door. But before she could chide him for disturbing her peace, her eyes met his wavering blue ones, and the growls immediately died in her throat.

"…Umm, are you alrig-?"

"This is an emergency." Kaito said as he kicked his shoes and stumbled into her apartment. She let out a short shriek and dashed after him, but he didn't go far as he stopped by her dining table and clutched onto the back of the chair she was just sitting on.

"What's wrong with you?" She asked tentatively, noticing his forehead was plastering with sweat.

He began jogging on the spot, leaning his weight from one feet to another. "I need to borrow your toilet." He said, his tone laced with a hint of desperation

"Wha-"

"Where's your bathroom?"

"Funny how you're the landlord and yet-" She stopped, deciding to spare him from further agony and pointed down the hallway. "You should know. It's the one at the end."

Without a word, he made a dash and shut the door before Aoko could put her hand down.

Although she wouldn't turn down his request even if time repeats (she did empathise with his sense of urgency), it was still a little discomforting to let a man use her bathroom when all her daily but private essentials were in there. Crossing her arms and gathering her patience, Aoko tapped a foot on the floor as she waited for Kaito to be done, and her prayers were finally answered when she heard the toilet flush and tap running. But suspiciously after twenty seconds passed later, the door still hadn't open. But when Aoko was a few steps away from tearing it down, he finally came out with the biggest grin on his face.

"You're my life saviour. Thanks for lending me your toilet." He said with a wink, which Aoko didn't see it coming, especially not from someone who just said the word toilet.

She hummed softly in acknowledgement (She wasn't sure how to be angry after he thanked her). "I guess your front door is jammed? Like, for the thousand times?"

"Yeah." He said, walking past her.

It was obviously a rhetorical question but she said nothing to rebuke. Instead, Aoko silently followed behind him, until they split paths after entering the living room; she was about to head to the front door but he was going for her balcony.

"Where are you going? The front door's there."

If he noticed the curtness in her tone, he didn't mention it. "I'm jumping over."

What? She grabbed his hand, stopping him. "Are you crazy? What about your shoes?"

His lips twisted into a smile as he glanced at her hand and then back at her. "Worried for me?"

Aoko shrugged his wrist off in spite. "Any human in the world would react the same as me."

"Like you've guessed, the door knob is jammed. There's no other way."

"There is." She stomped after him as he entered her balcony. "Which is to call someone in and fix it."

"That's too much of an effort. And I'll collect my shoes later. It's outside your apartment anyway so it doesn't matter to you." With no single hesitation, Kaito hopped onto her railings, his back bent and fingertips barely grasping the handrails.

Aoko let out a yelp. "I'm not going to pay for your hospital bills, you heard me!"

"Optimistic of you to think I'll survive if I fall. But don't worry, I won't fall anyway."

"You-!"

"See?" He straightened and waved at her. "No hands."

Her heart was pounding so loud in her ears that she could barely hear anything else. "Bakaito!" Aoko exclaimed in frustration. Being the cause of her near heart attack, she wasn't sure if she wanted to pull him down or push him off.

But before she had the time to consider her choices, he leapt.

The scream died in her throat as she shut her eyes.

"…"

"…"

"…"

"Hey."

Daring herself, Aoko slowly peeled open her eyes one at a time (She wasn't sure if her heart soared because she was feeling assured or surprised to hear his voice).

Kaito was standing in one perfect pieces on his balcony, smiling like he owned the whole world… Well, if it was his ghost she was seeing, he sure had the whole damn world to haunt with his stupid smirk.

Slamming her hands over the railings, Aoko looked down the building. There wasn't any blood or dead body found anywhere. She looked up again.

The way he curled his lips was something not even her imagination or hallucination could do; Original and one of the kind. He was the real deal.

"Are you alright, Ahouko?" Kaito said while studying her under his watchful gaze.

Her inward relief was short-lived. "W-What did you just call me?"

"After you so sweetly gave me a nickname, I thought it's polite to give you one too."

"I have valid reasons for it."

"That's nice." He grinned. "Ahouko."

It suddenly occurred to her that they never once greeted each other with their family names, and of course not with their first-names either (since their facial expressions were enough of an acknowledgment whenever they met). But now... they were calling each other nicknames—and insulting ones?!

"Stop calling me that, Bakaito."

"Ahouko."

"Bakaito!" Aoko bared her teeth. "Should have cursed you to fall off from here." Instead of caring so much.

Kaito put a hand over his chest. "Sorry to disappoint but I'm too talented to let that happen."

Aoko rolled her eyes. "Are you from the circus?" She wondered out loud as her mind started to jog with creativity. "Did you quit after some brain damage or get kicked out from the group because of how irresponsible you are?"

"How about an Olympic long jump Gold medallist?"

She blinked, dumbfounded. "You…" She frowned once she realised she got fooled. "You liar. I watched the Olympics, excuse you."

He gave her a long look. "So you weren't joking when you asked if I'm from the circus?"

"No. Same goes for the brain damage part too."

"Aha you're so funny, Ahouko."

"I said stop calling me that, Bakaito!"

"To thank you for lending me your toilet, I'll satisfy your lovely curiosity; I'm not from the circus, but nice try."

"Could have fooled me."

"Maybe not; you're too smart for your own good." He smiled (and it held an indecent amount of seductive charm). "I'll see you around again."

Aoko would have shouted a "never" if she wasn't so sure it was impossible, unless she decided to move out tomorrow. She considered it for a split second before pushing back the pointless thoughts. Moving would waste too much of her time from settling her deadlines, and she thought if she could survive him, she could survive anything else. And that seemed like a great accomplishment she could put on her list.

For starters, minimal contact and avoidance would be a good tactic to win.

So, without saying a word, Aoko smiled at him bitterly before stomping back into her apartment.

.o.

Aoko loved reading mysteries, conspiracies and whatnot, and if she was lucky, inspiration might kick in and she would churn out a few thousand words for the night. Whereas if she wasn't so lucky, she'd end up with sleepless nights.

Tonight would be the first night.

But she didn't regret paying this price for satisfying her curiosity; The cannibalism article was indeed interesting. Besides, it wasn't as if she didn't have a cure for it. If she spent some time relishing the tranquility by herself on the balcony, it would help with easing her tension. Nodding to herself at her brilliant plan, Aoko tossed her blanket aside and walked out of her bedroom and towards the balcony.

Just before she mindlessly slid her glass door open, she jolted when she spotted a shadow—a figure—outside.

It was Kaito (and she was partially relief it was him, because she would very much choose him over meeting a cannibal right now).

"…What is he doing at this timing?" Aoko said aloud as she pressed her face further into the glass door, her warm breath forming condensation on it.

When the mist slowly disappeared, she blinked, noticing something she wasn't expecting;

Kaito looked sad—

—bereft, and so very lonely, standing in the middle of the balcony and looking nowhere but below. His shoulder slouched like the world was weighing him down, yet it was ironic because it looked like the world was the one that abandoned him…

Aoko was surprised to find her heart unknowingly swelled. It was weird, how she could feel like this for someone she thought she didn't care about. She decided to blame it on her level of empathy as an author, and not because it was specifically Kaito she was worrying about.

Without knowing how or why, something strong suddenly compelled within her, and unable to control herself in time, she slid the balcony door open. Kaito heard her presence immediately and turned to watch her—his eyes wide and curious—but said nothing as she stepped onto her balcony.

Squirming under his gaze, Aoko groaned inwardly at what she had done. But it was too late to regret and back out now, so she forced a small smile, which she knew was awkward, and closed the balcony door behind her.

Her minimal contact and avoidance tactic certainly backfired.

It was hard to begin with anyway, thanks to his persistency to start a conversation with her whenever he entered the balcony while she was on hers. But tonight was different. She was the one who entered the balcony while knowing he was there, and he was unnaturally silent on his side, which made her wonder if he was angry at her for disturbing his peace. Taking the chance as she approached the railings, she glanced at him from the corner of her eyes and found nothing in his expression; Unreadable would be the best word to describe him now.

He turned back and continued staring into the same space since Aoko saw him from inside her apartment. Sentimentally, she tried to follow the same. The darkness and lack of light gave her a new perspective of the neighbourhood; Even the ever-beautiful park and busy train station could become so spooky and eerily quiet.

She didn't dare to let her gaze wander too long, in fear her imagination ran too wild and started imagining things she didn't want to see. She glanced at Kaito, who was still looking at the view, impassive and oblivious to her worries. Amidst the darkness and shadows, she wondered what he was exactly seeing… or looking for.

"What are you doing here?" Aoko finally asked. It was her that intruded whatever solitude he was having in the first place, and she thought she owed him enough to be the one that broke the silence.

He looked at her, his blue eyes reflecting under the moonlight. "Enjoying the breeze."

"At two in the morning?" She asked again for confirmation.

"At two in the morning." Kaito smiled, his usual facade slowly coming back to him.

(She wondered where he hid the sadness he had in his eyes a few moments ago)

"What about you?" He asked before the silence came back.

"Enjoying the breeze too."

Kaito raised an amused eyebrow. "At two in the morning?"

"At two in the morning."

She was obviously playing back the game he played first, but he didn't bother acknowledging the point. Instead, he simply nodded, accepting her answer as he turned away. "I guess I understand why you decided to rent this place now."

"What?" She stammered, completely lost at his words.

"The tranquillity; It gives you inspiration, doesn't it?" When she still couldn't understand enough to reply, Kaito continued. "After all, authors need to find their comfort zone to write, or so I've heard."

Aoko would've done a backflip if her feet weren't frozen to the ground. There was no way he could have known even if he did an internet search about her name—She had used a pseudonym for her books and didn't tell Jii about her job! But if he could correctly guess it out of the thousands options at the first try, he must have had his evidence on hand already.

"How… did you know?" She breathed disbelievingly.

"Observations." He simply said.

She narrowed her eyes. "Are you a detective?"

Kaito straightened, seemingly impressed. "You're remarkable yourself; it's just your second guess but you've picked the job I hated the most."

"Hated the most? Then I guess you're a thief then, and a bad one too." She mocked bitterly. "You can't even break into your own apartment."

He jerked back and laughed. "Not that I'm defending myself but locked and jammed doors are different."

Aoko blinked, catching herself by surprise. "Are you really-"

"Although you work in the creative sector, don't think too much." He looked at her lazily. "It'll be hard for you to sleep."

"If you dare to come anywhere near here…"

"Can't you take a joke?" Kaito looked so relax and she wished she could be the same; Whenever she was around him, she couldn't feel anything besides curiosity and nervousness.

"I'm just warning you. So don't complain if I slam my door against your foot again."

"Are you always this fierce? How does your boyfriend stand you?"

"What the- that is none of your business."

He paused. "So you have a boyfriend?"

"I thought I said it's none of your business."

The smirk that suddenly appeared on his face was too suspicious to ignore. "Alright." He said, glancing away.

Aoko was surprised at his abrupt lack of enthusiasm on the topic, though it wasn't like she wanted him to be anyway. "What's that about?" She asked, referring to his weird grin.

"I got my answer."

She let out a dry laugh. "And what is it?"

He teasingly placed a finger on his lips. "Can't expose my trade secrets."

"Trade secrets? Are you a clairvoyant?" She blurted before she registered what she said.

Kaito laughed again, which Aoko understood why this time. Her answers were getting more and more ridiculous after all. "It's no fun when all questions have to be answered. A little bit of mystery can keep things interesting."

Aoko heard plenty of the same advice for writing stories, but she found it unrelatable for their current situation. She squinted her eyes. "Hmph."

"…What are you doing?" He asked innocently, though his amused grin showed more than he knew.

"Trade secrets." Aoko sneered, still studying him.

"So are you a part-time clairvoyant now?"

"Maybe."

"And what did you see?"

Aoko wasn't sure where to start. Her eyes continued to flicker past his features, trying to search for something; anything. But it was all pointless, of course. She knew she would never be able to dig under his strong facade, so the only thing she had of him to look at was his face.

His face…

If Aoko was honest with herself, she had to admit he was easy on the eyes. He had a rugged look about him, somewhere between a teenage heartthrob and a grown man. His eyes were bright and inviting with the best shade of blue she'd ever seen, and she would have thought it wasn't possible to ever dull it, that is, if she could forget the emptiness she just saw in them.

Aoko held back her tongue just in time before she let slip and mention about seeing him oddly wistful a while ago. She was ninety-nine percent sure he wouldn't tell her the truth if she asked, but there was still that one-percent. And if that one-percent happened… She wasn't sure if she was prepared for it; Sleepless nights might not be the only price to pay for her curiosity.

Knowing that the silence was stretched for far too long, Aoko quickly cleared her throat. "…You're a smug-ass jerk." She said lamely.

"And?"

"That's it." Aoko replied, hoping her tone was levelled enough. She prayed hard that Kaito wasn't a clairvoyant like she guessed. If he could read her mind… the first thing she'd do, even if it was a bad decision, would be to move out right now and never come back.

"That's it? I was expecting more. Are you sure you didn't take the ten past seconds as a chance to check me out?"

"See? I definitely got the smug-ass jerk correct." She huffed, her cheeks bloated and red in anger. This conversation was getting way too risky to continue; the more she tried to expose him, the more she was actually exposing herself. "Enough of these pointless things and answer my question. How do you know I'm an author?"

He looked vaguely disappointed. "You can't let it go, can you?"

"I can't."

"Fine, I'll tell you how I derive my answer, like all great detectives do whenever they solve some mystery." Kaito drawled. She noted the disdain in his tone but kept the comment to herself. For now, Aoko was only interested in his answer and she refused to give him any more chance for distraction.

He began. "From my record, you're one of the few tenants that pay rents on time. But I've never seen you go to work throughout my stay here. So I guess you either work from home, or at least your job allows you to."

Okay, that sounds logical.

"At first I thought you're a stay-home baker." Kaito lips slowly turned into a grin. "Oh, by the way, the cupcakes were good."

Reacting naturally, Aoko's cheeks grew pink and hot. She bit her lips to subdue her flustered emotions. "Thanks…?"

"You're welcome" He said, his smirk showing more playfulness than sincerity.

Aoko scowled inwardly. Is he doing it on purpose?

Kaito continued. "Anyway, as I was saying, I thought you're a stay-home baker. But I noticed something when I borrowed your toilet earlier this week, and it kinda threw my guess out."

The past embarrassment was temporarily cast aside and forgotten as his words caused the gears in her head to move. "I lacked baking equipment." Aoko elaborated for him.

"Uh huh."

"But-"

"I then considered if you're a phone-sex operator, until I happened to glimpse at your computer and saw a document open, with Chapter 1 as the heading while the rest of the page was blank that day."

Aoko's eyes nearly popped out in horror. Every word that left his mouth was equal to the number of times she wanted to slam the door against his foot again. "You-!"

"I'm sorry for peeking." He raised both hands in surrender. "I really am. And I won't find any excuse to deny that I'm in the wrong, even though you're the one that wants me to tell you the answer."

"What I can't tell is whether you're really apologetic or not."

Kaito sighed softly and let his arms dangle over the railings. "That said, I'm truthfully not good with apologies."

She considered the possibility that he was bluffing as a joke, but she couldn't spot any sign of mockery in his voice or face. And it surprised her, so much she was at loss for words to answer. She didn't think of what he said as a weakness, but something told her he regarded it as one, even though she didn't understand why it would be.

"So, what do you write?" He asked, saving the silence Aoko didn't know how to break.

She could choose to lie or ignore him, but she was on a higher side of curiosity towards his reaction than wanting to keep her life private from him. "Crime fiction."

"Hmm, you struck me more of a romance writer." He sounded intrigued, as if it was the biggest mystery he couldn't solve in his life.

Typical. "Because I'm female?"

"That, and other reasons."

She rolled her eyes. "Stereotype."

Kaito grinned, seeming to confirm Aoko's claims. "Then of all things, why crime fiction?"

Aoko found herself speaking before she could stop herself. "I wanted to be a detective." She blurted, and quickly bit her lips to stop herself from saying any further (Talking at such an ungodly hour was certainly a bad idea).

"Oh?" He let out a sigh that resembled a laugh. "Then you'll be the first."

"What first?" Aoko scowled. "There are many female detectives out there and-"

He cut in before her rambles escalated to rages. "I'm not referring to that."

"…Then?"

"I mean if you had become a detective, you'd be the first one I'll ever like."

"And should I be honoured?" She asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Maybe?" He chuckled, and she felt like she had lost a competition she didn't remember entering. "Anyway, as you were saying about how you wanted to become a detective… Why the change in career?"

Aoko crossed her arms, barely resisting the urge to stick out her tongue. "Story is over."

"Come on, don't leave me at a cliff-hanger. I hate that."

"I'm an author. And that's what all authors do."

"Then should I write you a fan letter? About how I can't wait for the next chapter?" Kaito stroked his chin thoughtfully before his face brightened up. "If I jump over now and ask for your autograph, would that encourage you better?"

"I'll push you off if you do."

"You're truly a heartbreaker. It really puzzles me why you didn't write romance instead." He said in between his light chortle. "Since you've barely started on your first chapter for your crime fiction, how about a change of genre? I can be a good inspiration."

Aoko rolled her eyes. "No thanks to the offer."

"Are you having writer's block?

She would have yelled at him if he was intentionally rubbing into her bad wound, but he was looking at her earnestly, as though his concerns were genuine and not for teasing. "…Yeah, but-"

"Why?"

Aoko raised both of her eyebrow in puzzlement. "Why? There's no why in this. It just happens."

"There's always a why for everything." He set his chin on his palm, looking as if he was bored. "It's a choice you made, unconscious or not."

Her mood soured. "I don't really have a choice about my writer's block-"

"Maybe you haven't figure out what you want to write."

Aoko blinked, taken aback at his words. Besides being unable to find an answer, the sudden shift in mood made her uncomfortable to speak, and all she could do was to let the silence fill in as a replacement for her reply. Their staring contest didn't last for a few seconds before Kaito turned away and stared into the darkness, as if their past conversation didn't happen and she just entered the balcony like before.

Unbelievably, Aoko preferred the smug-ass Kaito than this quiet Kaito anytime.

In the midst of pondering what she could or should say to break the awkward silence, Kaito saved her the effort by speaking first.

"Have you considered the feelings of your characters?"

"…What do you mean?" Aoko asked, looking intently at the side of his face. But he wasn't looking back at her.

Kaito gave a half-hearted shrug. "Just a thought. Maybe those criminals you'd written about didn't want to be the person they had to be."

Releasing a breath Aoko hadn't realised she was holding, she mustered the courage in her to ask again. "What do you exactly mean?"

He didn't answer right away as his eyes dropped to the railings. But when he looked up at her, she could tell he'd changed his mind.

"Like I said, it's just a thought."

Aoko obviously begged to differ.

"The breeze is gone." Kaito announced, stretching as he left the railings. Before he retreated into his apartment, he stopped and turned towards her, as if he'd realized he had forgotten something.

And she waited.

But all he said was a "Goodnight," before he was gone after the door slid shut behind him.

Aoko continued standing on her balcony, still feeling the breeze Kaito claimed had stopped.

It was fine anyway. Because when she didn't have too much of an expectation, the disappointment didn't hit her that hard.

.o.

In the same manner how they preferred to avoid divulging about their respective jobs, Kaito and Aoko never mentioned anything about the late night talk on their balcony—The night when they'd let on more things than they should have.

Despite that, Aoko didn't avoid him, and he did the same too (Deep down they both knew it would only magnify the situation than anything else). They would still exchange wry smiles when they met on corridors and squabble with each other whenever they were on their balconies at the same time (which happened almost every day). Sometimes in the heated moment it was inevitable to not mention about their jobs, but it was never in depth like that night. He would only go about teasing her if she needed him as an inspiration to describe a hot-looking patrol officer for her book, while she'd throw back a sarcastic comments like guessing if he worked in a sewage company, seeing how he was full of shit every time.

Being comfortable with their routine, an easy month had passed since then. But whenever Aoko thought about that night, it always felt like it happened a second ago. There were times when, out of curiosity, she was tempted to probe into his business and ask if he managed to figure out the burden or worry he carried like the sombre expression in his eyes. Because if he allowed her, she honestly wouldn't mind helping him since it was him—his words—that helped her to figure out some things on her side (though she wouldn't admit this part to him, of course).

"Alright, great. I'll see you later. Bye."

The one Aoko just ended the call with was her book editor, Ozawa (she finally initiated the call after pretentiously ignoring his voicemails and messages), and she had plans to talk to him about the direction of her third book. It was hard to explain through the phone so he agreed to meet at her house, where they could settle easily and go through her ideas.

One thing she realized about the men she knew in her life was that they always lacked the will to get proper meals. Her father was once her main priority, and Ozawa, the brother she never had, became one too. He was always kind and excited for her well-being, and knowing him, he would definitely rush over here after his work without eating or buying dinner even if Aoko told him he should. Without having the need to ask, she decided to take matters to her own hand and cooked him dinner instead. If he wanted to know the development of her third book, he got to eat. That would be the deal.

Aoko tossed her phone onto the couch and bounced to her kitchen, excitedly flipping open the cupboards and cabinets; the spices she needed were there.

It had been a while since she last cooked curry; it was tedious to prepare the ingredients if she was the only one eating. But now that she had someone to cook for too, it gave her the perfect chance to review on her skills.

She began her tasks with comfortable ease; Chopping potatoes and carrots, preparing the meat… It was easy and nostalgic to fall back to these old routines, which struck her that she might actually have missed cooking a whole lot more than she expected. She wondered how different things would be if she decided to be a chef instead.

"…I thought you're some stay-home baker."

Aoko turned her head towards her living room, staring at her balcony.

She shook her head, trying to dispel the thoughts as she returned her attention back to her pot. Most of her time was spent in her house, and having that said, it was technically the same as the time she spent with Kaito. Hearing his voice every day must have infected her brain.

After dumping all her ingredients into the pot and letting it go on slow heat, she had a short time for a break. Working on her draft would be too risky since she might end up forgetting about her curry, and there weren't any nice shows on the television at this timing. Glancing at her balcony, Aoko smiled, her choice being made.

Shoving her curtains aside, she stepped out and gave a grateful stretch. Nothing beats having some scenic view to-

"You're finally here."

Aoko jumped, her neck turned to the source of the voice.

It was Kaito, standing on his balcony with his arms folded and settled on the railings. She should have been expecting this, but there were a few times when he executed a stealthy part of him, making him unnoticeable like a phantom. This was one of those moments.

"What?" She sneered, hoping that she looked as composed as she wanted. Her heart, though, was still beating fast.

"I've been waiting for you to come out. You're taking so long I was considering jumping over." He drawled.

"Waiting for me?" Aoko squinted her eyes. "I don't remember making an appointment with you."

"Appointment?" Kaito tilted his head (His hair was whipped into a mess by the wind, and she wondered just how long had he really been standing here and waiting for her to come out like what he claimed he did). "Another synonym for a date?"

Aoko rolled her eyes. "What is it that you want?"

"I can smell food from your house."

"Then what do you-"

"What are you cooking?"

Aoko blinked. It wasn't the question she expected from him. She thought he would be complaining how the smell was triggering or polluting his senses. "I- Um… Curry."

"It must be one big pot." Kaito tipped his head towards her, trying to take a peek inside her house. Of course he couldn't see anything from where he stood, but his attempt surprised her that she nearly rushed back inside to hide her undergarments that were hanging near her balcony door.

She took in a breath to steady herself. "One big pot, yes."

"Is today sharing-food-with-neighbours day? I've prepared nothing but I'll still be glad to have some curry from you." Kaito grinned, looking none to apologetic even though she thought he should be after sounding like a complete ass.

"None for you."

"You have guests?" He asked, giving her an incredulous look. "A guy?"

Aoko gaped. It was a fifty-fifty chance, but he still got it correct.

Of course Kaito noticed her surprised reaction. "Oh," he said dully, crossing his arms. She wasn't sure if he exaggerated the crease of his eyebrows or was really upset-

"Is it your boyfriend?" He added after a pause.

"What about your trade secret, eh?" She crossed her arms back, pursing her lips to a smirk. "I thought you have your clairvoyant powers to check about that?"

"The last time I remembered, I was assumed the role of a sewage operator."

"And you enjoyed the role?"

"Yeah, if I can continue to talk shit with you like this and be offered some curry too."

Aoko plastered a fake smile. "Nice try."

He looked smug at her reaction, but the light in his eyes wasn't shining bright enough; she could tell he wasn't satisfied with whatever he had gotten out of her. But what exactly did he want? A bigger reaction? More contempt-?

"So is it your boyfriend?" He asked again.

Ah. He wanted an answer.

She could imagine him reacting many ways to her answer if she admitted the truth to him, which came in various types of teases about her looks, flat chest and lack of feminine taste. Although he only called her Ahouko and never explicitly mocked her appearance in a mean and hurtful way that would puncture her self-esteem, that didn't mean he wouldn't do it after knowing that she had… always been single since she was born.

"You struck me more of a romance writer."

How ironic.

"Why does it matter to you?" Aoko asked back, refusing to let him have his way.

"Of course it matters. I'm the landlord and I have the rights to know the situations around here." He tapped a finger impatiently on the railing. "I don't tolerate hanky panky."

Aoko choked, her face flushed. "You're being ridiculous!"

"How is my rule ridiculous?"

"I'm not saying about- ugh he's just a friend, for goodness sake!" She blabbered against her will. "There's no ha-hanky panky!"

He watched her, eyes bored but observing at the same time. "Now that's even more unfair."

"What now?"

"Because your friend gets to eat your curry and I don't," Kaito twitched his nose. "That kinda pisses me off."

"I still don't see how that's unfair." Aoko muttered, unimpressed. "And not-so-sorry to disappoint, I'm busy and I can't be bothered with you anymore. Bye." Before waiting to see his reaction, she stalked back inside to check on her pot while purposefully leaving her balcony door open as the strong smell continued to linger outside. She wasn't petty, no. She was just trying to even their score and letting him have a taste of how infuriating he was to her.

But as what Aoko claimed, she was truly busy to care and bother about Kaito. She spent the next hour cooking rice, cleaning up and showering herself to look proper and not like she had a war. And just in time after she blew dry her hair, a few rhythmic knocks she recognized came from her door, and she excitedly opened it.

"Hi Ozawa."

"Hello." He beamed.

"Come on in." Aoko stepped aside, allowing him to enter. Before closing the door, she snuck her head out of her door to stare at Kaito's closed one. It had been awfully quiet since she left him standing on his balcony alone, and she wondered if he was still at home.

Shrugging to herself and deciding it wasn't of any importance, she closed the door and skipped towards the dining room, where Ozawa stood as he placed his office bag on the chair.

"Did you cook curry?" He asked as he sniffed the air.

"Yeap."

"Your dinner?"

"Our dinner." Aoko put a hand on her hip. "You haven't eaten right?"

He sighed and dramatically wiped a tear in his eye. "You're too kind for this world."

She smiled, being glad that he didn't reject her offer. "Can't afford my best editor to go hungry."

As Ozawa helped with the utensils, Aoko poured the curry over their rice and set the plates opposite of each other on the dining table. They did it in comfortable silence, and eventually settled themselves down once they were done.

"Oh yeah, I didn't know you got a new neighbour." Ozawa said once they began digging into their meal.

It was lucky Aoko hadn't had her first bite yet or she would definitely choke. "What?" She blurted. "You saw him?"

"Yeah, he was climbing down the steps when I was coming up. His name is Kaito, isn't it?"

Aoko's jaw dropped. "Y-You two even introduced to each other?!"

"I couldn't possibly ignore him when he did first." Ozawa explained. "And it wasn't much. I only told him my name, and that I'm your friend. I didn't mention that I'm your editor, so don't worry."

"…He already knows I write." She mumbled.

Ozawa leaned back, his eyebrows raised. "You told him? I thought you wanted to keep it as low-profile as possible."

"He figured it out himself." Aoko grimaced and poked her spoon into her rice. "Maybe he knows you're my editor too."

"That I would doubt so. I think he assumed I'm something else." Ozawa chuckled. "He hid it well, but I sensed the hostility when I introduced myself."

Aoko raised an eyebrow. Hostile and Kaito… didn't quite fit in her mind. "What you do mean?"

"I would say he's jealous."

"J-Jealous? Of what?"

"Jealous of my visit." Ozawa wiggled his eyebrows as he took another mouthful of his curry.

More like he's just jealous of the curry he couldn't eat. But she wasn't going to say that. The last thing she needed was to explain how they talked on their balconies about silly things like this. There was a reason why Ozawa was her editor and Keiko's close cousin too. The imagination in their genes always loved to run wild.

"He's the biggest flirt I've ever seen. I bet he has dinner with all the other girls in the neighbourhood every day." Aoko scorned, and it was only when the words left her mouth then she wondered if what she said might be true. There were nights when she heard him came back late (thanks to his loud key-slotting-door-jamming sounds), or days when he didn't return home after all.

Ozawa raised an eyebrow. "Now I'm thinking if you're the one being jealous."

"Don't speak such disgusting stuff over the dinner table." Aoko snarled and stabbed a piece of potato as a warning.

He chuckled lightly before carrying on. "Then did he ever ask you? About dinner."

She kept her lips sealed, refusing to acknowledge and admit Kaito's interest towards her curry. "He's never serious." Was all she let herself say.

"Maybe he's always been serious but you're not aware of it."

Aoko rolled her eyes. "Impossible."

"You'll never know."

Of course she would never know. She would never understand Kaito, be it his joking demeanour or not. But she didn't want—need—to know. He was just her infuriating landlord and inconveniently her neighbour, nothing more than that. They would sneer at each other when they met along the corridor, peer into each other's baskets when they saw each other in the supermarket, laugh at each other miseries, mock at each other names, talk in the day, talk through the night…

That- That was all.

Taking advantage of the short silence, Aoko quickly switched to the next conversation and onto the more important things now. "Anyway, I've got a rough idea for the next book idea. But I'll need your help."

"Of course. What do you want to work on?" He asked and reached out for his bag to get his notebook (That was one thing Aoko liked Ozawa the best. With just a quick snap of a finger, his professionalism dutifully came with no other question). "Serial Killing? Although you had that plot for your first book, there's many other approaches you can consider."

She shook her head, though she showed her smile to express her gratitude to his zeal. "I'm considering taking from another angle."

He paused. "Another angle?"

"I want to start with creating the characters first rather than the plot's setting."

"Oh? Sure. We can take it from there." Ozawa nodded encouragingly, but stopped when a thought struck him. "But I'm curious; is there a reason behind the change?"

Aoko shrugged, waving a hand weakly in the air. "I want to try something new."

"There's always a why for everything. It's a choice you made, unconscious or not."

Widening her eyes, the spoon slipped off Aoko's hand and clang loudly onto her dining table as she spun her head towards the balcony. It looked the same as how it always was, saved for the curtains as it flapped along with the gentle wind that passed; like it was the nature's response to her that the thing she was finding wasn't there.

Of course it wouldn't be there.

"Hey?" Ozawa asked, head tilting in concern. "What's wrong?"

Aoko turned back to the dining table and picked her spoon up. "Nothing." She managed a nervous smile. This was getting absurd. She had been hearing Kaito's words echoing in her head for the entire day even when he wasn't with her!

Ozawa wasn't convinced and tried to pry for an answer again, but Aoko refused to budge. It wasn't an answer she understood herself after all, and she wasn't prepared for what Ozawa might tell her. She had enough on hand to last her a few sleepless nights already.

She quickly moved on and back to their original topic, which Ozawa followed, thankfully. After an hour of discussion over dinner, they spent another hour discussing on the couch, talking about the potential of starting with characters and their development, as well as how it would affect the female lead character of her previous two books.

But when the next hour came, Aoko sent Ozawa packing and out of her door. Beside her sudden urge to write, she didn't want Ozawa to stay too long when he still had work tomorrow.

"Promise me you'll call soon." He cast her a pointed look as he wore his shoes. "Don't leave me hanging for another three months. The publisher is gonna hoard all over me."

"I know." Aoko said and rubbed her neck sheepishly. "I'll try to get at least the first draft done. Soon."

"I'll take that as a promise."

She closed the door, the echoes of Ozawa's footsteps fading to a none.

Alright time to work.

Cracking her knuckles, she passed by her kitchen and suddenly remembered about her unwashed dishes. If she were to start writing now, she had no idea how long she would leave her dishes there, which could risk her precious white plates to be permanently stained with the faint colour of curry (It happened before). Willing herself, she tied her hair and decided to start with the biggest one to clean—the pot— when she realized there were still plenty of leftover in it. She could reheat some for tomorrow, but there would still be plenty left...

An image of a grinning Kaito suddenly popped into her mind.

Again.

She cringed at her thought, the lid nearly slipping from her grasp. He might be good candidate to clear her food, but really? What if he took it the wrong way? What if it fuelled his egoistic brain and made him think she was interested in him?

But since when did he not take every single thing she did as an opportunity to tease her? This extra thing wasn't going to change anything. Besides… she wondered when was the last time he had a meal that didn't come from packed bentos or pre-made meals she saw him buy every time (Unless what she thought about him eating dinner with all the girls in the neighbour was true... that would be another story).

Knowing that the more she contemplates, the more she hesitates, she decisively scooped some of her rice and curry into a bowl, grabbed a spoon and set them on a cute tray she bought from a sale (She had never used it before, but now was the chance for it), and headed for the door.

Though she wasn't sure what time he'd come back, there was no way in hell she would stand there and wait for him till he did. So after leaving the tray outside his door, she returned to her apartment and started on her dish-washing.

No regrets. No regrets.

When next morning came, the first thing Aoko did wasn't going to the balcony to enjoy the serene view (unbelievably this was the first time she broke her everyday routine). Instead, she headed to her door to check the thing that had jolted her up from her sleep.

Her tray outside his door was gone.

And she realized so was Kaito.

It was exactly one of those weeks when he would disappear and return a couple of days later. He didn't exactly announce or tell it directly to her. It was a subtle indication, but enough for her to take the hint of his prolonged absences; his balcony door was locked and his curtains were drawn closed. She should be happy about it, because during those days of silence, it was a good opportunity to focus all her energy on her work instead of dealing with her emotions whenever she was around him.

But for some reason, it was a little harder to convince herself that this time round.

She found Kaito back four days later, waving on his balcony under the light of the setting sun with a lollipop in his mouth. "Did you miss me?", he asked, which she responded with a roll of her eyes and spat out a "No" for emphasis before they fell back to their squabbles and mocking teases. Like usual, he didn't tell her where he went and she didn't question him either. Same for her bowl of curry and his meeting with Ozawa.

Everything was forgotten and cast away—never brought up again.

Perhaps, Aoko decided, it was better to live in the moment than trying to figure out the things she wasn't sure if she wanted to know about.

.o.

Jii would occasionally come to check on the tenants or to collect the rent payments, and whenever he did, he would drop by Kaito's apartment and spent an hour or two before leaving. And that said, besides the friendly old man, Aoko had never seen anyone visit Kaito before.

She remembered Jii mentioning about the master, possibly Kaito's father, that he used to serve. Was Jii helping Kaito because of old, loyal feelings? Or did Kaito become estranged from his family and Jii took pity? What about siblings? If Kaito had any, Aoko could perfectly picture him being the oldest and pranking the rest of his younger ones.

Again, all she had were questions but never answers.

Families aside, She wondered what type of friends would Kaito have. Would they be as infuriating and frustrating as him? Aoko couldn't think of anyone that could top off Kaito or be in the same league as him, but she could think of plenty of people who weren't, let's say for example Kudo Shinichi.

That was why when Aoko saw him standing and conversing outside Kaito's door, she thought she'd seen a ghost. Or Shinichi's twin. Or Kaito's twin (Now that she noticed, the two men looked quite alike. Only the style of their hair made a slight difference, along with Kaito's signature bored-looking eyes and Shinichi calm ones). She could think of a hundred possibilities, as long as she didn't guess that person was Kudo Shinichi himself.

"I said I don't want to talk." Kaito glowered, his crossed arms tightening against his chest. Aoko had never seen Kaito legitimately angry, pissed, or anything more than two furrowed brows, but his entire face now was now a huge scowl.

Wanting to buy a midnight snack when the landlord was trying to break into his own apartment? Accidentally stumbling upon a seemingly intense and important discussion? Trust Aoko to always have the worst kind of timing-

"Nakamori-san?" Shinichi gaped, finally turning after he noticed Aoko standing by her half opened door.

Now she confirmed he was the Kudo Shinichi she knew; She recognized his voice through all the interviews he had conducted with him.

"Kudo-kun." Aoko managed a smile and pretended to be just stepping out of her apartment as she closed her door. What else could she do than acting like she totally didn't eavesdrop their conversation?

She wasn't sure if Shinichi bought the act. Kaito, on the other hand, didn't look entirely surprised, just… three steps down the level of his previous anger.

"I didn't know you live here." Shinichi asked.

"And I certainly didn't know you're friends with… him." Aoko added.

"Excuse me. We're not friends." Kaito popped his head further out of his door. "And that tone of yours is uncalled for."

Aoko trudged closer to them as she rolled her eyes. "I'm glad you understand my underlying meaning."

Shinichi smiled. "It's been a while."

She nodded. "Yeah. Nice to see you again."

"If you need any more help with your research, you know where to find me."

Aoko knew Shinichi way before she realized his father's publishing firm was affiliated with the company Ozawa worked in. The Detective of the East had always been her idol since her high-school days, and the cases he solved and interviews that Ozawa arranged helped a lot to bridge her knowledge and inspiration together for her books. To put it in another way, she might say she owed Shinichi a debt.

But even outside of work, there were many other things she respected him for too, like how he was a loving husband and a kind man that never forsake anyone, even criminals, of their lives. And right now, she'd gotten another thing to add onto the list of reasons why she admired him; Even though she didn't know how and why, Shinichi had managed to annoy Kaito to a level that Aoko had never reached before.

Kaito coughed loudly, silencing Aoko before she could express her gratitude. "Seeing how you two have so much to talk about, I'll give you all the space you need." He said before closing the door.

But Shinichi was quicker. He slapped a hand against the door, forcing it to remain open. "We're not done talking." He hissed.

"Pity, because I'm done with it."

"I'm sorry, Nakamori-san. I'll chat with you another time? I have some errands I need to run." Shinichi cast Kaito a pointed look, which the latter wasn't happy about as he clicked his tongue.

"If you need some help, I can let you use my balcony." Aoko grinned.

Kaito scowled. "Betrayer."

Mature. Mature. No sticking out of tongue. She inwardly reminded herself before giving a firm smile. "Betrayal only comes from friends. Which we aren't."

"What I meant was infidelity, and it only comes from lovers. Which, I would say, we are." Kaito feigned a hurt look as he pointed accusingly between her and Shinichi. "My darling Ahouko! I'm so disappointed in you."

"Who's your lover?!" Aoko glowered.

"It's you, Ahouko."

They acted like Shinichi didn't exist, but the detective still made his presence loud and clear by clearing his throat, intercepting the millisecond before Aoko burst a blood vessel.

"I have something important to tell you." He said solemnly to Kaito.

"I don't care."

"Then if you don't care, I assume you wouldn't mind me saying it here right now?"

Something flickered in Kaito's eyes before he looked at Aoko sideways. Shinichi's words were definitely a hidden threat; A threat to the privacy that Kaito had been keeping from her all these while (And the way he turned his face away from her afterwards made her feel like a fish out of water… Not that it should bother her anyway).

Letting out a sigh, Kaito stepped aside—much to both of their surprise—to let Shinichi enter.

"I'm only sparing you fifteen minutes." Kaito muttered.

(She wondered if it was her fault that he'd given in to Shinichi).

"All I need is ten." Shinichi assured before disappearing into the shadowy apartment, but Kaito didn't follow him. He continued standing by the door, and for a moment Aoko thought he was going to escape by running out-

"Then I'll take the three out of the five minutes you don't need." Kaito shouted across his shoulder. "Don't touch anything or I'll burn your library down."

A grunt was heard from inside.

Turning back, Kaito leaned against the door frame and gave Aoko a once over; from her tied up hair, light blue sleeveless dress and white flats. "You're all dolled up today." He commented.

So… He'd made Shinichi, one of the most busiest and famous detectives in Japan, wait inside his apartment because he wanted to talk to her about this?

"What's your point?" She sneered.

"I supposed you're not going to the nearby supermarket to impress the vegetables and fruits, right?" He stared at her for a long while. "Going on a date?"

"For work." She said, her fingers twitched as she tugged onto the straps of her sling bag, feeling her heavy computer weighing her shoulder down. Telling him the truth was easier than cooking up a lie.

A look of realisation dawned upon him, and he smiled, one that looked different from the ones she usually saw—a mix of genuine gratefulness and contentment. It was weirdly pleasing that, by any chance, she was the one responsible in making his lips curl up this way on his face.

"You've managed your writer's block?" He asked.

"…More or less." She sputtered, and that was the end of what her throat allowed her to say. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for her to bring up how he was the one that helped her with it, but she couldn't force any more words out.

"How's the progress?"

"Done some drafts." She said, keeping her replies light and breeze.

His face lit up like a hungry boy entering a room filled with food. "Does that mean I still have a chance to inspire you and get myself a part of your book?"

Aoko rolled her eyes, this time refusing to answer his question. "What is it do you exactly want to tell me?" She gestured her head inside his apartment. "Your three minutes is up, you know."

"Nothing much." His brightened face fell lax as he shrugged. "Just want to say that you look nice, and blue really suits you. That's all."

Without waiting for Aoko to reply, he closed the door, leaving her standing on the corridor and wondering what she should do with the sincerity she found in his voice.

.o.

Aoko's meeting with Ozawa and her publisher was somewhat eventful, mostly because they were too busy reading her draft and discussing among each other to notice her distracted self. She spent the entire afternoon nodding her head and clarifying their doubts whenever they needed her to, and for the rest of the time when she wasn't needed, she used it to think about what happened earlier this late morning.

And mostly Kaito.

Kaito?

It wasn't thinking, per se, it was more like momentary and random images of him flashing across her eyes; his scowl, grin and then back to what he said to Shinichi, and then back to what Shinichi said to him, and the way he talked about her dress like she was born to wear it, and then the way he shrugged and closed the door like he couldn't care. Everything was jumbled up (like how she felt about her life after knowing him), but that didn't mean she found it any less pathetic and creepy about it.

Decisively in her head, she thought she should get some life outside instead of cooping at home (since technically it also equated to having to see him and allowing him to infect her brain). Maybe a visit to a cafe and catch up on her readings? Call Keiko up for dinner? Watch a movie-?

"...Aoko?"

Blinking out of her trance, she straightened. "Yes, sorry? Did you say something?" She asked sheepishly.

Ozawa sent her a knowing look (The meeting had been going on for a couple of hours after all). "I was asking if you intend to develop Reo as a romantic interest for Akira."

"It really puzzles me why you didn't write romance instead."

Thank god she managed to hide the scowl from appearing or it could've caused some serious misunderstanding. And what's worst was when she wouldn't be able to explain without getting herself in further embarrassment. Swallowing hard, Aoko mustered an intent look, like she was seriously reflecting about what Ozawa said and not some other guy's words that echoed in her mind.

"Romantic interest?" She tried to clarify.

Ozawa gestured to the computer screen. "Creating the characters first might be your talent and it's good you realized it yourself and tapped into your strength."

Of course she wasn't going to correct Ozawa, but besides that point. "How does it relate to that?"

"Reo is an interesting character." Ozawa said, and the publisher nodded beside him. "Their relationship has good potential. Being on both sides of justice, we can delve into the grey area of the law and explore Akira's development too."

"I... haven't thought that far yet."

Ozawa and the publisher glanced at each other, both sharing a surprised look before returning their gazes to Aoko. "Although it's just the first draft, it seems almost explicit that it's your intention."

"No it's not." Aoko blurted.

She was relieved Ozawa said nothing about her little outburst. "Alright then; It's just a thought anyway. But so far so good. Con-artist is a refreshing idea too. I'll do more research on my side too if you need help."

The instant the meeting was over, Aoko went straight home and changed out into her normal clothes. After hearing what Ozawa said, she thought there were more work to be done, and her plan for a dinner date with her friends was all thrown out to the window. Tomorrow night seemed like a better idea for a meet-up, and she texted her friends about her idea, conversing a little and taking her mind of certain things before focusing on her work again.

But same like how rules were made to be broken, plans were created to have it ruined—she'd gotten another distraction, but this one wasn't something she knew how to get rid of.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Aoko sighed, staring at the leaking kitchen tap as it continued its annoying brand of melody.

It wasn't a matter of how far Aoko was or how she tried to distract her ears. Knowing that her kitchen tap was leaking amplified her sense of awareness, creating echoes of this illusionary tap-dripping sound even if her ears weren't exactly hearing it. The only way to get her subconscious mind to shut up was to fix the tap, and she had failed miserably on this part, much to her despair.

Hands on her hips after a resigned sigh, Aoko glanced towards her balcony.

As the saying goes, desperation leads to desperate measures.

No harm trying my luck. She thought wryly before heading to the balcony to find… nothing. It was good that she wasn't anticipating that much for Kaito. Because when she found his balcony empty, the pang of disappointment didn't hit her as hard. She was already frustrated with her situation. There was no need to wreck herself even more.

She glanced away from the empty space and returned to her kitchen, forcing herself to delete any images of Kaito out of her mind. She wouldn't want it to become an unhealthy habit of hers-

'Click, click.'

Aoko straightened in alert, blocking off everything around her and focused on the new sound—something familiar and much, much better to hear. And once she confirmed her guess; the twisting of key and Kaito's usual attempts to unlock his jammed door knob (She didn't understand why he wouldn't just call a locksmith to help him with it), her lips unconsciously curled.

"So he's out and just returning?" Aoko wondered aloud as she skipped towards the door.

Flinging the door open, she popped her head out with a humble smile. "Hi, my dear landlord." She belatedly exclaimed, before her smile died like the chirpy voice that left her throat.

It would have been embarrassing if the person she thought was Kaito wasn't him. But at least she was right, which was a huge relief. It was Kaito standing in the corridor and outside his door, but for a brief moment Aoko thought it was another person.

He… didn't look like the usual him.

With his hand around the knob, Kaito looked up, his eyes wide and a little distracted at the same time. But once Aoko blinked, those moments were all gone, and the usual face of the flirty and smug-ass Kaito was back.

"Hello, my dearest and lovely tenant."

Aoko stared him for a second. Or maybe two. Ok. Definitely five. She faked a cough, trying to regain her composure and pointed at him. "What's with the clothes? I almost couldn't recognise you." She admitted.

"Too handsome?" He asked, tone extremely curious.

She pursed her lips, glancing at his tight-fitting white dress shirt that matched with a black tie and navy dress pants. "No. Just formal."

"If I take my shirt off, would that impress you?"

"No." She spat, and was glad she sounded as assertive as she hoped for. "And I'll sue you for sexual harassment."

With a small and satisfied smile etched on his lips, he slowly made his way towards her door. At a closer distance, she noticed some parts of his hair was gelled back, but perhaps being outside for too long had lessened the effect and it was now close to the usual messiness (not that she was complaining for either style). She lowered her gaze when she spotted something in Kaito's hand, which she didn't notice since his side was blocking it previously.

It was a bouquet of flowers—a combination of yellow and white daisies, tulips and sunflowers—wrapped in peach-coloured wrapping papers.

"What are the flowers for?" She blurted before she could cook up guesses in her head.

He looked at it without a flicker of emotion. "A friend."

"A friend." She echoed, expecting him to elaborate on it and make his usual joke, like saying 'Jealous these aren't for you?', or pretentiously offering the flowers to her because he could be so infuriating like that. But there was absolutely nothing, and she took the rare silence and his oddly calm composure as a hint that he didn't want to talk about anything related to that friend or the flowers he failed to gift.

Aoko cleared her throat to restart the conversation again. "Anyway, I need your help." She jabbed a thumb into her apartment. "My kitchen tap is leaking."

"No wonder you sounded extraordinary happy when you opened the door." Kaito tilted his head. "I thought you missed me even though we're only apart for less than a day."

She faked a short laugh. "If you're busy, I'll call someone in tomorrow."

"As your dutiful landlord," he began kicking off his shoes. "Let me see what I can do."

The only thing reliable about him was his consistent teases that never failed to rile her up every time, but at the exact moment when Kaito said what he said, she felt at ease, like she could trust him with her life. She frowned at her thought while moving aside to let him in.

It must be his clothes. Clothes is a key for good impression after all, and his current attire was definitely ruining the months of judgement she had of him.

He placed the bouquet on the dining table and glanced inside the kitchen. "Do you have a tool box?" He asked while observing her leaking tap from afar.

Aoko hesitated. Crap, she should have told him earlier about that. "No." She muttered sheepishly.

Without any unnecessary remark like he would usually give, Kaito simply nodded. "Okay, I'll go get mine." He trudged out of the door, leaving her alone in her apartment along with the dripping sound for company.

In all honesty, Aoko was glad for his temporary departure. She needed it terribly, to clear her head and stop her mind from racing with thoughts she couldn't understand. Wasn't it just a dress shirt and pants? What was the big deal? It wasn't as if she lived in a cave. She'd seen men wearing suits and other formal wears before.

Chill out before he starts asking when he noticed something is amiss. Aoko chided in her head.

A few minutes later, Kaito returned with a toolbox, and Aoko noticed something had changed about his attire; He'd taken his tie off and had his second button of his shirt unbuttoned, adding that he also had both of his sleeves rolled up to his elbows too. The loose sweaters and t-shirts he always wore couldn't bring out the shape of his arms, but now it definitely did (Trust him to whip out a whole new look with only a few adjustments).

Today, Aoko decided, was a day of disastrous distractions.

Letting out a few coughs, she focused on the tap as he set the toolbox next to the sink and began rummaging through the tools. He continued doing it for the next eighteen seconds (she was counting to distract herself from his arms), until Aoko couldn't bear to watch his fruitless search anymore.

"What are you looking for?"

"Hmm, the wrench."

"Huh? It's here." She said, easily fishing out the wrench he was searching for.

"Oh." He took the wrench from her hand and turned to the sink, seemingly unwilling to look into her eyes. "Thanks."

Maybe she wasn't the only one experiencing a disastrous distraction day today. She scrutinized Kaito's back as he fiddled with the tap.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah." He answered in a heartbeat.

Had Aoko not know his pattern of speech, she might have missed out the subtle difference in him again. His usual reply would be 'Aww? Are you worried for me?' and not straight out giving her an answer, especially when it had to do with his well-being.

Was it the failed date's fault? Or could it be related to Shinichi's sudden morning visit? Like always, she only had questions with no answers, but she kept them to herself, at least for now. She would rather he focus on getting the annoying dripping sound out of the way first.

A minute of tweaking later, he dropped the wrench back into the toolbox and turned on the tap before closing it again. The leaking had stopped.

He smiled, satisfied. "Done."

She stared, wide-eye and unblinking at her fixed tap. "…That was unexpected."

"Is that what you're supposed to say?"

"Um-" Aoko blushed, her hands fumbled to help close his tool box. "Thanks a lot for fixing my tap."

Kaito chortled. "I'm not talking about that." He dusted his hands and continued looking at her expectantly. "Aren't you going to ask if I'm a plumber?"

Oh.

Well, if Aoko had to guess, she would choose between a full-time fitness trainer or an international runway model. But compared to the answer he offered, either choice was too much of a compliment. Way too much than what she was willing to offer him.

"So," she cleared her throat. "Are you a plumber?"

"No, but if this job can get women to invite me into their house, it sounds like a good career prospect to me."

Aoko had a feeling he made her ask, just so he could resume his temperament and do his usual teases. And she, too, resumed her usual nonchalance towards his smug-flirts. "Not scared you'll end up getting murdered by a serial killer?"

"That's interesting. Is that what your new book is going to be about? Are you gonna write about me? A hottie plumber that gets killed by a serial-killer?"

"Keep asking and I might consider writing your painful death."

"Death is ugly, but I've plenty of synonyms for you to describe me when I'm alive: Charming, alluring, sexy— Just stick to the facts. Should be easy for you."

"I can't write what I can't imagine."

He crossed his arms, his shirt pulled tight over his shoulders and moulding into the shape of his muscles. "Maybe because you're not looking close enough?"

Her eyes flickered to his arms, but she quickly turned away before Kaito managed to notice. "There's nothing to look at." She said, even though she knew better.

"Why don't you try looking again?"

Sighing irritably, Aoko glanced up and was about to argue, but the words didn't come when she met his eyes. And it was the most ironic thing, because despite that, their significant look exchanged more words than they would ever say aloud.

She pursed her lips, trying to regain her composure from the intensity of his gaze, but it only made it harder for her to think or concentrate on anything else—

—Like the way he could distort time and make a minute magically feel like a few seconds… The way he slowly leaned towards her like a boat rowing towards the safe shore… The way he parted his lips and sucked the breath that was meant for her to breathe…

Then something in Aoko snapped, bringing her sense of awareness back when she smelt his faint cologne and a familiar scent she always found on her father whenever he came back from a celebratory party after a case was solved.

Aoko frowned and twitched her nose as she jabbed a finger into his chest, stopping him from doing all the things she didn't notice him doing before.

"Are you drunk?" She managed to ask without a croaky voice. It was a relief her vocal cords hadn't been fried along with her brain cells.

Kaito straightened, his expression suddenly unreadable. He started tugging his collar and trudged away, leaving her alone in the kitchen. "I drank, but I'm not drunk. It's two different things."

She watched him walked towards the living room and sat on one side of her sofa, unusually relaxed and at ease. Now that she knew he drank, it explained all the differences she noticed in him, but she wondered if it was just the fault of alcohol that ruined his facade and made him show his moody side much prominently than ever.

"I'm thirsty." He spoke aloud, snapping her out from her little thought. "Do you have anything to drink?"

"Make yourself at home." Aoko deadpanned. "I don't have beer if that's what you want. But I have orange juice."

"Orange juice, hmmm. Healthy. I'll take the offer."

Taking the can of juice from the fridge, she sat next to him on the couch—with some gap in between—and handed him the drink. He cracked it open without a word and began chugging it down.

"That's not beer, you know."

He paused in between his mouthfuls. "I know."

"Are you alright?" She asked him again.

"I'm not drunk."

"That's not what I mean." Aoko licked her lips, preparing herself for the question. "Why… did you drink?"

"Why not?"

If he doesn't want to talk about his 'friend'… "Is it related to the reason Kudo-kun visited you this morning?"

His jaws were clenched together so tightly she feared for his teeth. "No."

He was always careful to cover his emotions with jokes or teases, but this was the first time she could see through his lie so easily. She should be feeling satisfied for being able to push his buttons like how he always pushed hers, but seeing him like this, the only thing she felt was concern.

Concern? Aoko squirmed in her seat. Should she be feeling this for a neighbour she barely knew besides how he was a heir of a master Jii used to serve and liked her cupcake? What about her curry? Did he like her curry?

Her thoughts were getting nowhere.

She stared at him sideway as he squeezed the empty can to the shape of an apple core. Well… at least she knew one more thing about him; Maybe he liked orange juice.

"Do you want another?"

He contemplated for a second. "Yeah."

She went to the fridge, grabbing the drink and sat back on the couch. She would have warned him about choking himself when he began chugging down the juice again, but she was too distracted by the movement of his arms.

Okay, enough. She shook her head, hoping to dispel those cursed thoughts.

It still didn't work as well as she thought it should.

Noticing her discomfort, Kaito flashed her a curious look. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah." She cleared her throat. I need a new distraction! "Anyway, how do you know Kudo-kun?" She blurted thoughtlessly.

The flicker of worry he previously had for her disappeared as he glanced away. "Why? Are you interested in him?"

Aoko shot him a glare. "It's irrelevant to the question I asked. And he has a wife, for goodness sake."

He shrugged. "Some women find married men attractive."

"Not for me. And don't change the subject. You haven't answered my question."

"Hmm…" He took a long, slow sip. "We're acquaintance."

"But he's a detective."

Kaito stared at her, curious. "So?"

"You've given me the impression that you don't like detectives."

"Ah…" He shrugged. "I'm fine if they don't bother me. But that Holmes's freak did. So yeah. Maybe you're right."

Like always, his replies gave her no answer to the question she wanted to know.

"I should go." He suddenly said.

Before Aoko could register his words, he stood up and walked to the door. She hastily followed behind him, still a little surprised but kept silent on his decision to leave. She expected him to stay a little bit longer, but she guessed his weariness or reluctance to hear any more of her Shinichi-related questions won him over. Either way, she thought it was good he decided to leave. She knew what he needed was sleep rather than practising his flirting skills on her.

"Thank you for fixing my tap." Aoko said as he wore his shoes.

"Then I'll thank you for the juice. It's nice." He leaned sideways against the doorframe and held up the can. "Do you buy it often?"

"It's available at the supermarket."

Kaito chuckled. "Why do you sound so defensive?"

"Because I have a feeling you'll use the juice as an excuse to come by."

He put a hand theatrically on his chest. "I don't understand what you mean."

"You know full well what I mean. " Aoko scoffed, then realisation hit her eyes. "Hold on. Your tool box." She scurried back to the kitchen, grabbed the box and returned to the door to give it to him.

His eyes flickered to the tool box in his hand and back at her. "You're dead-set on destroying all my chances to come to your apartment again, aren't you."

"Yes. Unless my tap leaks."

He glanced past her shoulder and inside apartment. "If that's the only reason… I'll pray for your tap to leak soon."

"Trust you to say senseless things like that." Aoko rolled her eyes. "Goodnight."

"Wait- No hugs?" Kaito spread out his arms, the tool box dangling on one hand while he held his can of orange juice on another. "How about a goodnight kiss?"

"I'll take it as you're drunk and have no idea what you're saying."

"And if I insist I'm serious and not drunk?"

"Maybe he's always serious and you're not aware of it."

Remembering Ozawa's words, Aoko realized he wasn't right or wrong. She could sense Kaito's seriousness if he wanted to show it, but the problem wasn't on him—It was her instinct, like a warning bell that persistently rang to remind her not to let her guard down with him. She could offer him juices or talk to him occasionally on their balconies, but that was as far as she was able to go. Anything more than that would be too dangerous for her… heart. She knew a thousand ways that could make a heart stop, but getting it to beat faster than normal, like this moment, wasn't something she was familiar with.

She chose not to believe him no matter how serious he could ever be.

"Then I'll punch you." Aoko answered, cracking her knuckles and ignoring the uncomfortable swirl in her gut.

"Ouch." Kaito winced, stroking one side of his jaw (which made Aoko realize how defined it was). "I could almost feel it."

"Good. Now go home and sleep."

Kaito grinned. "Goodnight."

Aoko managed to close the door before his droopy eyes and lazy smile starting creating more chaos and weird reactions in her chest.

What the hell was that all about? She pinched the bridge of her nose and pressed her back against the door. Would smelling a drunk person make someone equally drunk as well? Maybe she should do some research on that later on.

Shaking her head, Aoko headed to the living room, and it was only then she realized Kaito had left the bouquet of flowers on her dining table.