Chapter 23 – Date in Disguise

Saturday morning. Sunshine filtered through the kitchen window, casting a soft glow over the table where Haru stirred her tea absentmindedly.

Aya leaned on the doorway, arms crossed, wearing a bucket hat and oversized hoodie that made her look more like a mischievous college student than a top-ranked teacher. “Stop overthinking. It’s not a date.”

“You said wear comfortable shoes,” Haru mumbled, setting her cup down. “That usually means walking. A lot of walking.”

“It’s good for your heart,” Aya teased. “Both the emotional and the literal one.”

Haru shot her a look. “We’re still hiding this, remember?”

Aya just grinned. “Exactly. So I disguised this date as ‘two coworkers catching a train to the city.’ Now hurry up.”

---

The city buzzed louder than Haru remembered. Neon signs, street musicians, the smell of roasting chestnuts near the station. Aya weaved through the crowd like she belonged here, confidently leading the way. Haru walked slightly behind, trying to look casual and failing miserably.

Their first stop? A small independent bookstore nestled between two towering buildings. The sign read “Moss & Pages.” It smelled like dust, ink, and old wood — heaven for someone like Haru.

“Oh no,” Haru breathed, eyes already scanning the shelves.

Aya watched her with amusement. “I’ve officially lost you, haven’t I?”

“You brought me here on purpose,” Haru accused, a hint of a smile on her lips as she reached for a worn copy of Kitchen by Banana Yoshimoto.

Aya shrugged. “I wanted to see the face you make when you find a book you love. It’s cute.”

“Don’t say stuff like that in public,” Haru hissed, cheeks flaming.

Aya chuckled. “Then find me an aisle and I’ll whisper it instead.”

---

After buying three books (Haru tried to resist, failed, and blamed Aya), they headed for lunch at a tucked-away ramen place with barely any signage. Aya had apparently “discovered it during university” and proudly declared it a hidden gem.

Haru slurped her noodles while peeking at Aya over the bowl. Aya was talking about how she once spilled broth all over a professor during an after-lecture dinner. Haru laughed, a genuine full-bodied laugh that made people at the next table glance over.

Aya’s eyes softened.

“You’re beautiful when you’re relaxed,” she said simply.

Haru blinked. “Stop saying things like that.”

“Why?”

“Because my heart can’t handle it.”

Aya rested her chin on her hand. “That’s the idea.”

---

They ended up at the arcade.

Haru tried not to groan aloud. “Seriously?”

“Yes,” Aya said firmly. “You got books. I get games.”

Aya led her straight to the crane machines. “Time to win you something.”

Haru rolled her eyes. “These things are scams.”

Ten minutes and four failed attempts later, Aya muttered, “Okay, these things might be scams.”

“You think?” Haru crossed her arms, smirking.

Aya narrowed her eyes. “One more.”

She adjusted her stance, focused like she was solving a complex equation. The claw dropped—snagged the little plush fox by the tail—and triumphantly delivered it to the chute.

Aya turned, holding it up. “Victory!”

Haru stared at the plushie in her hands. Soft. Small. Ridiculous.

And completely adorable.

Aya ruffled her hair. “Worth it for that smile.”

---

They sat outside the arcade on a bench under a tree. The sun had begun to dip, casting long shadows across the pavement.

Haru hugged the fox plush against her chest. “Why do you like me?”

Aya looked at her, surprised. “That came out of nowhere.”

“I’m just... trying to understand. You’re confident. Gorgeous. You could probably date anyone. Why me?”

Aya leaned back, gazing at the sky for a moment. “You don’t remember the first time we met, do you?”

“At school?”

Aya shook her head. “No. Two years before that. I was visiting a school for observation. You were giving a lecture on classroom psychology.”

Haru blinked. “I—I don’t remember that.”

“You were so nervous, you dropped your papers twice. But then, when you spoke... there was something in your voice. You cared. It wasn’t just theory for you. It was heart.”

Aya smiled. “That day, I thought, ‘I want to be near her.’ And I never really stopped wanting that.”

Haru felt the words like a slow tide, warm and overwhelming.

“I didn’t know,” she whispered.

“I didn’t expect you to,” Aya said softly. “I just hoped one day, maybe, you’d look back at me the same way I looked at you.”

Haru reached over, her fingers brushing Aya’s.

“I think,” she said, voice trembling, “I’m already there.”

---

On the train ride home, they sat side by side in the quiet hum of the evening crowd. Haru leaned her head on Aya’s shoulder, fingers still gripping the fox plush.

No more teasing. No more hiding in this moment.

Just warmth. Just breath. Just peace.

Aya whispered, “Next time, let’s go somewhere with a ferris wheel.”

“Why?”

“So I can kiss you at the top. Like in a movie.”

Haru smiled. “You’re ridiculous.”

Aya kissed the top of her head.

“Only for you.”

--

I knew this couldn’t last forever — the pretending, the hiding, the quiet looks we shared when no one was watching.

But in moments like this…

…I almost forgot the world wasn’t made just for us.