Chapter 56: The First... Date?

Fuji is domestic.

I am panicked all the time.

He holds my hand when we walk home. My hand sweats. It's disgusting, but he doesn't seem to mind.

He texts me "good morning" and "good night."

My phone buzzes, and I blush.

I am a blushing idiot now. Bloody Twilight is dead.

And now, this.

FujiJerk: "My apartment. Saturday. We can study for midterms."

My apartment.

HIS APARTMENT.

ALONE.

I scream into a pillow.

Rika is on my bed. She is coaching me.

"Aoi-chan! It is a date! A study date! It is romantic!"

"It is terrifying! What do I wear? What do I bring? Flashcards?"

"NO! You wear this!"

She holds up a pink skirt.

"I am NOT wearing pink! I am Bloody Twilight! I am wearing my Death Metal hoodie!"

"NO, YOU ARE NOT!"

We fight. I lose.

I am wearing a blue skirt. It is a compromise. I am still wearing my combat boots.

I am so nervous.

I show up at his address.

It is not a fancy high-rise.

It is a normal apartment building. An old one. It is a little run-down.

This is not what I expected.

His apartment is on the second floor. The paint is peeling on the door.

This is where the Prince lives?

My hands are shaking.

I knock.

The door opens.

He opens the door.

He is not wearing his uniform.

He is wearing jeans and a plain, white t-shirt.

His white hair is messy. Just a little.

He looks normal.

He looks amazing.

My brain shuts down.

"Wow," I breathe.

"Wow, what?" he smirks.

"Wow... you own casual clothes," I recover, pushing past him.

He laughs.

His apartment is small.

And clean. Spotless. Minimalist.

But it is old. The furniture is simple and functional.

There is one giant bookshelf covering an entire wall. That makes sense. And one medium-sized TV.

"This is it?" I ask.

"What did you expect?" he asks, handing me a soda. "A palace?"

I blush. "Maybe a throne. Or at least air conditioning. It is hot in here."

He laughs. A real laugh. "The AC is broken. Welcome to my glamorous life."

"So, Mr. Independent," I say, sitting on his old sofa. "This is really it? No butlers?"

"No butlers. Just me. And bad plumbing."

This is better than a palace. It is real.

"So... study?" I ask, holding up my textbook.

"First," he says. "Food."

He walks into the tiny kitchen.

He is cooking.

In an apron.

It is blue, and it has a penguin on it.

I am going to die.

This is too much. My heart can't take it. The Ice Prince in a run-down apartment is wearing a penguin apron.

"You cook?"

"I have been living independently since middle school, remember? I had to learn."

He is making omurice.

He is good at it. He flips the egg perfectly.

We sit at his small kitchen table.

It is nice.

We just talk. We don't study.

"So, why here?" I ask, poking my omurice. He drew a cat face on it. I am dying. "Why this place?"

He stops eating.

His face gets serious.

"My family," he says. "They expect perfection. Rank #1. The best schools. The best scores. It was tiring. They wanted me to live at home with tutors and rules. I refused. I told them I wanted to be normal. This was the compromise. I get my freedom, but no money beyond basic rent. They thought I would fail and come home."

"But you didn't," I whisper.

"I didn't." He smiles. "And then I met you. The second part of my rebellion."

"What?"

"In middle school," he says. "That first exam. You beat me by one point. You were so angry about it. You slammed your test on the desk and growled. I hated you. And I was fascinated."

"You hated me?"

"I admired you, Aoi," he says. He is looking at me. Really looking.

"You were perfect, in your own way. You didn't care what anyone thought. You were free. I was trapped. I cared too much."

Oh.

My heart is doing that stupid thing again.

"Fuji... you are not a jerk," I whisper.

"Sometimes I am," he smiles.

"Yeah. Me too."

We are just looking at each other.

This is it. This is the moment.

He is leaning in.

I am not running away.

My eyes flutter shut.

This is it.

RIIIIIIING.

His phone.

His stupid, perfect phone.

I jump and hit my knee on the table.

"Ow!"

Fuji groans. He is annoyed. He looks at the caller ID.

His face changes.

The warmth is gone.

The Ice Prince is back instantly.

"Excuse me," he says. His voice is cold.

He stands up. He walks to the tiny, rusty balcony and slides the door shut.

I am alone with a half-eaten penguin omurice.

What just happened?

I can see him through the glass.

He is tense. He is listening.

He is bowing to the phone.

Who does that?

He pinches the bridge of his nose.

He looks frustrated.

He says one word. I can read his lips.

"...Father."

He hangs up.

He stands there for a full minute, staring at the laundromat across the street.

He takes a deep breath.

He turns and slides the door open.

He is smiling.

It is a fake smile. It doesn't reach his eyes.

"Sorry about that," he says. "A family matter."

"Is everything okay?" I ask.

"Yes. Perfectly fine," he lies.

He is a terrible liar. Worse than Daiki.

"Now, where were we?" he asks, sitting down.

The moment is gone.

It is broken.

Who was that?