Chapter 1: You Still Hate Green Tea, Don’t You?

Hello! Thank you for picking up this story and giving it a chance. It starts off slow, but I hope it gives you something quiet or interesting to hold on to. I’ll update as consistently as I can, and I’m open to feedbacks :DD.

Enjoy the tea☕️

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The kettle let out a soft whistle — not urgent, not loud, just enough to remind Akari that something warm was ready.

Akari didn't rush. She never did.

She flicked it off, letting the steam curl into the quiet air. Outside the busy city, the wind smelled faintly of rain. Clean. Gentle. A little like memory.

She poured the water over the tea leaves with practiced hands. Careful, steady — like it wasn’t just a drink, but something to be shared.

Peach tea leaves, Akari’s favourite, filled the kitchen with their sweet, slightly floral scent. It was a little strong. But Mio didn’t mind. Not anymore.

The apartment was quiet, save for the faint clicking of a fan above and the occasional clinks of porcelain.

Two mugs sat on the table. One of them left untouched. The other, half empty and still warm. They’d swapped them once by mistake, and never bothered to switch back.

One had a tiny artistic-looking chip in the handle, while the other had been faded by too many dishwashing cycles.

Akari set the mugs down gently with a soft clink.

Mio didn’t drink right away. She watched the steam curl upwards — soft, hesitant, like something still deciding whether to stay.

Mio reached for her mug instinctively, then paused. “…You’re drinking green tea?”

Akari grinned. “Thought I’d try green tea today instead.”

Mio blinked. “You sure? Green tea?”

”Why not?” My peach tea is still in the kettle so having a taste should be ok right?”

Akari blew lightly across the surface. “Taste can change overnight, right?”

Mio raised an eyebrow. “You still hate green tea, don’t you?”

Akari had never liked green tea. The previous time she tried it, she said it tasted like leaves, brushing against her teeths. End up, they had to swap drinks while she insisted that it wasn’t that bad, like she was trying not to offend the plant kingdom.

Mio glanced at her, watching the way Akari was about to force the sip, try to hide the reaction, and smiled anyway. She always did that — made things easier for others, even when the taste didn’t sit right.

Even bitter tea.

Akari took a careful sip — then visibly resisted the urge to grimace.

As Mio predicted.

“…Y-yeah.” Akari set the mug down gently, like she didn’t want to admit defeat.

”Anyways,” she said, after a pause, “I figured that change might not be such a bad thing. So maybe it’s worth giving it a try. Even if I end up disliking it again.”

Mio didn’t answer right away.

But she picked up her own cup.

Took a sip.

Then smiled — just a little.

Akari slouched back into her chair, eyeing the mug like it had betrayed her. “Honestly, I think it’s getting worse the more I try.”

Mio let out a soft breath — maybe a laugh, who knows? “That’s what happens when you force yourself.”

“Well… trying is growing right?”

”you’re not growing. You’re suffering.”

“But it’s the *thought* that counts.”

Akari grinned. “Fine. Next time, I’ll go back to peach.” She puffed her cheeks slightly, which made her look like a sulking hamster — but her eyes gave her away.

The room held a certain warmth to it, like it had memorized their routines.

The window was cracked just enough to let in the smell of the city outside — distant food stalls, summer air, a passing bus.

Their apartment wasn’t anything close to special. It had a small balcony that barely fit two.

A tiny but cozy living room that felt like a safe haven, a hidden pocket, soundproofed from the outside world.

They sat like that for a while — not talking much, but not needing to.

Not the awkward kind where both parties didn’t know what should be uttered.

But the kind where both had too much to say yet too little time, prioritising which should be talked about first.

The kind that said “I could say more. I could say a lot. But I like this moment just as it is.”

Akari glanced at Mio.

Then leaned forward slightly, fingers tracing the rim of her mug like she was thinking about something. Not urgent. Just… something.

”Mio,” she said, voice light. “Let’s play a game, shall we?”

Mio blinked. A little suspicious of Akari. “A game?”

Akari smiled, the kind that hinted ‘I know what I’m doing.’

It wasn’t a real game. Just something they’d made up when Akari was still obsessed with poetry, and Mio still thought metaphors were annoying.

But somehow, it stuck around.

“Unspoken Truths, remember? Don’t worry. It won’t be competitive.”

She paused for a breath. Her fingers traced the mug’s rim again.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Her voice lowered slightly.

“Should I say the rules again?”

Mio lifted her mug slightly, not to drink, just holding it out of habit.

She tapped it twice.

Might as well.

She remembered well enough. But sometimes it was nice to hear it again.

Akari smiled, eyes warm.

The name is just a cover. What matters is what you find inside.

Her voice flowed smoothly, almost like a quiet poem:

“I speak. You listen. Not to the words, but what lies underneath.

Tell its truth. Or who it belonged to.

Unspoken. That’s all the game is.

Truths. That’s all it needs to be.”

There was a pause.

Mio nodded. Quietly curious.

Unspoken Truths…

Is something on her mind this time?

Akari’s smile deepened.

She tilted her head slightly, gaze drifting to the side — not at Mio, not at the mug, but somewhere softer.

Her fingers traced the rim of her cup once more.

Then, with no particular warning, she spoke.

“Some blooms never last long — but that doesn’t make them any less precious.”

For a moment, the words simply sat between them.

Unmoved.

Mio tapped her mug once, twice. Out of habit? Or to buy a second more.

Was that a fancy way of saying… to cherish? Or that nothing lasts forever?

Or something more?

She glanced a little to the side.

Akari wasn’t looking at her. Just waiting, a faint smile crossed her face.

She’s trying a little harder than usual.

Mio let out a quiet breath.

“…people don’t realize something’s precious until it’s gone.”

She shifted her finger on her mug.

I’d seen phrases like that online more than once. Overused, maybe… but true.

She risked another glance.

Sometimes… she really did say things like she meant them.

Akari wasn’t smiling playfully this time. Just a look that made you feel warm, the kind that said more than words could.

Like a quiet approval.

She leaned forward a little.

A few strands of her hair slipped loose — soft brown fading into orange-gold, the colour deepening where the light caught it, like the horizon at dawn.

Mio’s eyes lingered for half a second longer than she meant to.

A breathe quieter than a speech.

“Mm, you’re thoughtful, as always.”

Her smile this time wasn’t smug or teasing, just…warmth.

The kind you would admire.

Lingering in your mind… wondering if you could wear it the same way.

Her gaze, flicked to Mio’s eyes, lingering just a moment longer than usual.

Didn’t say “your turn.”

Just let the moment settle, like the first note of a song you weren’t finished writing yet.

Mio’s fingers hovered on her mug.

Maybe next time…

Akari sat back, a small smile returning to her lips.

“…Next time, you’ll give the first sentence,” she said lightly, like a promise.

Mio internally breathed a sigh of relief.

A problem for future me.

Mio gave a faint nose. “Next time it is.”

Right. Next time. Will she be the one bringing it up? Or me?

But in the quiet space between them, part of her wondered — how many “next times” would this game really have?

Some things… were easier to forget than to repeat.

At least Akari seemed to have found her own kind of answer, whatever was on her mind. And that — well, Mio couldn’t complain.

She somehow managed to make their days together a little deeper, a little brighter, before the doom of unfinished homework could descend.

Akari stretched her arms with a cute sigh, almost breaking the weight of the moment.

“Anyways…”

A glance toward the table. “We still have homework to pretend we didn’t forget, don’t we?”

Mio flinched, her face darkened with betrayal. you were supposed to forget that.

“Literature and math if I recall correctly.”

Mio took a small quick peek towards the pile.

The worksheets glared back at her, untouched and judgmental.

Akari reminding her so she wouldn’t “accidentally” forget again, scrambling through the night, and the next morning like usual.

She wasn’t bad at school. In fact, she was good at it, annoyingly good according to some.

But homework? Was a completely different war in itself.

Sitting down was easy. But beginning was difficult. The first line, the first word — somehow heavier than the rest.

“If you don’t finish, your “quick” dinner is going to become instant noodles again.”

Akari said firmly but couldn’t hide the softness in her eyes. “We can’t survive with only eating instant noodles. So please get your work done.”

Mio, blinded by Akari, didn’t want to do homework.

But she didn’t want to say no either.

She stared at her tea like it would magically make the homework complete.

Before Akari could suggest helping Mio with something like preparing ingredients for dinner, since Mio always helped her with academics, Mio cut in with a sigh.

“Fine I’ll do it now so we can enjoy our dinner later.”

She didn’t want to, but a promise was a promise.

It was a quiet sort of surrender, the kind you make when someone sees through your habits or excuses but stays close anyways.

Akari smiled, the kind that’s warm even without trying.

“Ganbare, Mio.” (Ganbare -> 頑張れ – do your best/good luck)

“Remember to actually study as well. We’re in our last year, we can’t afford to slack off anymore.”

Even though Mio grumbled something under her breath as she stood, but she was smiling too.

Akari glanced over once, her smile lingering like it always did.

Easy yet gentle, the kind that naturally made people lean closer.

Mio, in contrast, leaned further into her chair, pen poised over the pages.

She liked the quiet. The still spaces, like the pause between one page and the next.

Crowds…weren’t really her thing.

It meant figuring out how to act, how to perform.

She didn’t mind watching from the side.

In fact, she preferred it.

Akari? She could be in the center of any room without trying, without changing.

Yet somehow, they shared this little pocket of space. A small apartment. Two mugs.

Enough room for two, and just enough silence for both to breathe.

The mechanical clicking of the pen echoed in the quiet room.

Mio flipping open the worksheet like it had offended her.

Leaning slightly forward with the usual “I don’t want to do this but I’m doing it anyways” face.

Akari sat close to her, on the couch, reviewing her own notes as well. Curled loosely with the book of notes on her lap.

Flipping the pages slowly like she wasn’t reading.

Her hair had slipped in front, messy from leaning on the cushion too long, but she didn’t seem to mind at all.

For a while, nothing happened, completely peaceful.

Tea cooling beside them, and the soft hum of the fan spinning above, and occasionally bird chirps from the trees outside.

Mio worked through the questions one by one, her eyes focused, but her hands slower than usual.

The kind of slow like ‘I’m trying, but only because I said I would.’

“You always look different when you study” Akari said, watching her from the corner of her eyes, with a gentle half-smile.

Mio didn’t look up. “Different? I look ugly?”

“No no, like you’re quietly battling a war that no one can see. Quietly. Persistently”

“I’m battling integration.”

Akari giggled. “You’re persistent and brave. And that’s what I like about you.”

Mio didn’t respond right away. She just smirked, maybe a blush, then continued solving the next question like Akari hadn’t just casually dropped a line that sounded a little too sweet. A little too close.

After scribbling for a while, Mio finally sat her pen down. She leaned back in her chair, arms stretched over her head.

“I’m done.” She muttered, slightly cheerful, but held-back as well.

“How done?” Akari peeked from her notes.

“Enough to deserve food.”

Akari laughed and stood up, clearing the mugs. “Then I’ll reward your bravery with dinner and one peach candy.”

”One?”

“You didn’t show the proper steps for question 8. You’ll be penalised if you actually forget to show in the exam.”

“That’s cruel. Is that how you treat a soldier who just fought through war?”

Akari gave her a bright grin, one of those overly bright ones like opening your phone in the middle of the night when its brightness is maxed.

She walked towards the kitchen while saying “next time I’ll give you two pieces, show your workings and I’ll give you more. Maybe even a kiss?”

Mio ears warmed, her fingers twitched, acting busy with her worksheets.

She stayed at the desk for a moment longer, staring at the small pile of worksheets and half-solved equations.

Her body felt a little lighter now. Not because the work was done, but because Akari had been there through it, in her own quiet way.

Akari returned, leaning against the counter, arms folded casually. “Hey… next weekend.”

“Hm?”

“Let’s go somewhere. Just us, like a… date. It’s been a while since we last went anywhere other than school and the grocery store.”

Mio turned to face Akari. “Where?”

“You can decide where.”

Mio contemplated for a moment, then smiled faintly, “I’ll think of something.”

“You promise?”

”Yeah I promise.”

Mio’s smile softened, not brighter, not louder, but calmer. Like something special have just been placed between them.

Outside, the breeze fluttered the curtains, and the last bit of light cast a soft glow across the room.

The tea — a little too sweet, a little too warm — lingered in the air, like something waiting to be remembered

And in the stillness between sips, something small and quiet settled between them. Something like a beginning.

“Let’s play again soon, okay?” Akari stretched as she stood, her voice light.

“I’ve got a few more truths left.”

She smiled as brightly as ever.

But didn’t say whose they were.

She said it casually. Lightly.

But there was just, something in her voice — a pause, a softness —

Like the truth she wanted to say… wasn’t hers to speak.

“Unspoken truths…” Mio murmured, almost to herself.

Akari didn’t reply.

Just turned toward the kitchen, her silhouette fading into the soft evening light.

Like she’d heard it.

Or like it was meant for her all along..

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Thank you for reading chapter 1! Feel free to leave any thoughts or comments, I’d appreciate any feedbacks and hear your opinions :DD.

(Chapter 1: Edited. 2 May 2025. Some phrasing adjustments, reworded some lines at the study/homework part. And some trimming.)

(Chapter 1: Edited. 15 June 2025. Some phrasing adjustments(homework/study part and some here and there) refined the end of chapter 1, added game, shifted a moment to a later chapter. Thank you for reading. Feedbacks are always welcomed :))