I have to think for both of us.

After the grand cooking lessons, Seiji gave Hideaki a firm pat on the shoulder.

"Good job." He said. The gesture conveyed both congratulations and an unintended, deeper meaning - recognition of Hideaki's progress.

'He did a decent job... with my guidance, of course. But still, I'm proud of him,'

Seiji reflected inwardly, watching Hideaki's content expression as he savored his last self-made meal.

After finishing it, Hideaki's stomach growled loudly. He leaned back in his chair, looking thoroughly satisfied.

"I'm stuffed..." he muttered with embarrassed, cautiously rubbing his belly.

Seiji smirked, "No surprise. You ate onigiris, a bowl of udon, two plates of curry and many other dishes." he responded dryly as he washed the dishes,

"Sh-shut up... They were good," Hideaki grumbled, though it was clear he was content.

"I know," Seiji replied, quietly pleased with his cooking.
"After all, you put in the effort. With my... minimal guidance," he added dryly.
"Maybe one day, you'll manage an entire meal on your own."

"Tch! Don't get so full of yourself!" Hideaki tried to snap back, but his mind seemed foggy, the food-induced drowsiness making it hard to muster any sharp comeback.

Seiji smirked and glanced at Hideaki's bloated state.

He couldn't help but think,

'He's definitely got a bottomless stomach...'

Suddenly, Hideaki yawned, his fatigue apparent from overeating.

Seiji rested his chin on his hand "You look exhausted. How about taking a nap?"

"A nap?" Hideaki blinked.

"Yeah. It'll help, especially after all that food." Seiji said. His tone was practical, as usual.

In the meantime, he made a quick steps to the coffee express to make himself his beloved drink.

Hideaki glanced down at his bloated stomach, clearly embarrassed. "Tch..." he muttered, trying to cover his midsection.

"Drink something after this loads of food and head to the couch. You'll feel better after resting. Trust me. I know what I'm talking about." Seiji added while waiting for the coffee to finish making.

"You got so stuffed before?" Hideaki asked curious.

"Well... Yeah..." Seiji admitted, clearly being not proud of it. "One time when I was at work, I overdid with my bento and felt sleepy for the rest of my work shift. Lucky enough I could take a five minute nap as no one was looking and it helped."

"Mhm..." Hideaki replied.

Then, Seiji walked back to the table and placed a steaming mug of coffee in front of himself and a glass of orange juice for Hideaki.

Hideaki wrinkled his nose at the strong aroma wafting from Seiji's cup.

"How do you even drink that stuff? It smells like burnt sadness," he muttered.

"It's an acquired taste," Seiji replied, taking a slow sip and savoring the bitterness. "Something you'd know nothing about, considering you drink juice like a child."

"Tch-" Hideaki clicked his tongue and leaned on his hand, gazing through the balcony door.

The night time was approaching. His eyes grew distant, his expression absorbed as though lost in another world entirely.

Seiji watched him for a moment, raising an eyebrow. "You look like you're plotting something. Should I be worried?"

Hideaki's lips twitched into a faint smile, but he didn't look away from the balcony door. "Just thinking," he said softly.

"That's dangerous," Seiji quipped, though his tone was lighter than usual.

"Hey!!!" Hideaki yelled offended.

"Hehehe" Seiji chuckled mischievously.

"Shut up...." Hideaki muttered, gulped the juice rapidly and finally made his way to the couch.

There, he sprawled out, covering himself with his warm blanket.

Slowly his red eyes started to close...

Seiji watched him silently, but his mind worked in overdrive, mapping out possibilities, contingencies, and countermeasures.

'If the police are searching around the Pixie place area, sooner or later they might not be far from my neighborhood. I have to move carefully, making sure that Hideaki stays out of sight, while also figuring out how to divert the investigation.'

Seiji sighed, rubbing his temples. "That idiot," he muttered under his breath and took a sip of his coffee.

He gazed at the time on his phone and then something hit him...

'If they would stumble upon me again or ever somehow got access to my or Hideaki's phone, the last thing they should find is a connection to Pixie.'

He ran through the possibilities in his mind.

Messages. Every conversation between him and Hideaki so far.

Knowing Hideaki - and his talent for accidents - it wasn't hard to imagine his phone slipping from his hand - found, checked, and questioned by the wrong person.

Seiji's eyes flicked to the screen.
He glanced at the chat history.

'Yeah... Preemptively deleting them wouldn't hurt.'

Seiji waited until Hideaki was deep asleep, breathing evenly, before carefully pulling out his phone.

He unlocked it and opened the messaging app.

Every trace of Pixie-related messages was methodically deleted.

'Eh... As usual, I have to think for both of us.'

Seiji thought, scrolling through the conversation on his phone, and just as methodically as before, he deleted them as well.

Satisfied that there was no evidence left behind, Seiji slid the phone back into Hideaki's pocket. Then, he allowed himself a brief exhale.

'Better to preempt every risk, even an improbable one.'

Then he went to his bedroom.

'Still... It bugs me... Who tipped the police off about Pixie's murder?'

Seiji hadn't expected Ken to report anything - he'd made sure Ken understood that. And based on Ken's reaction, it wasn't him. That left Rika, the only other person who had known anything.

Minutes passed without answers, but Seiji kept his eyes open, knowing the truth would eventually surface. He had been sifting through some local forums, the website display reflected on his glasses, but at the end he couldn't fnd anything.

Resigned he sighed and leaned over on his chair.

He took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes, thinking back to last conversation he had with Rika and Ken.

'She'd been visibly uneasy, even after I had tried to smooth things over about Hideaki. I wouldn't be surprised if she actually did it. She barely knows us, and witnessing such a horrific scene would light a red alarm lamp in your head that something is wrong. But I won't get to know this if I would just analyse it. I need to ask her firsthand.'

Suddenly, he stumbled upon a cryptic post.

"An anonymous caller has led authorities closer to uncovering the Pixie case."

'Anonymous caller..? Could it that be...?' Seiji was determined to confirm his suspicions, but he had to be cautious.

'If Rika was behind it, I don't think that she would admit it easily, and confronting her directly would only complicate things. I need to choose a subtle approach.'

[Later]

As Hideaki woke up on the couch, Seiji caught his small grimace.

"Had a good nap?" Seiji asked.

"Could been better, tch! My back hurts a bit..."

Seiji glanced at Hideaki's stomach, noticing the bloating had subsided slightly.

"Well, that's what happens when you overeat and crash on the couch."

"Ghmb..." Hideaki mumbled something incomprehensible under his breath and rubbed his belly a bit.

Seiji gave Hideaki a pointed look, but there was a subtle hint of amusement in his voice.

"At least you're not whining over a ear that you're hungry."

Hideaki frowned, but then gazed at Seiji with a hint of curiosity.

"Why are you doing this all to me?"

Seiji raised an eyebrow, "All which means what?"

"Um... The d-dinner..." Hideaki murmured, clearly baffled. "And.. then... A-all those other... d-dishes..."

"The dinner you made youself, Well, partly. I helped you. So it's not entierly only my job." Seiji replied calmly and then gave a faint shrug, his tone dry but laced with a glint of teasing.

"And... The other dishes? Well... The answer is simple. I plan to fatten you up so much you won't be able to leave the apartment, let alone go out and murder anyone."

Hideaki immediately straightened up, clear outrage painted on his face.
"Heeey!" he snapped accusingly, his expression irritated, though a hint of worry lurked beneath the surface.

"What was that with all that 'Heey!'? I think it's a very good idea."

Seiji paused just long enough for the words to linger before continuing with a faint, nearly imperceptible smirk.

"It's my personal crime prevention strategy. Works better than handcuffs."

Hideaki furrowed his brows, as if trying to assess how much of it was a joke and how much was a hidden intention.
"You really... You seriously mean that?!"

Seiji looked at him without a trace of a smile.
"Wanna test that?"

Hideaki gulped.

Seiji grinned mischievously and simply turned and walked off to the kitchen, leaving Hideaki in silence and a growing uncertainty that was creeping across his face.

In that moment, Hideaki froze.

'...He was joking, right?'

He glanced down at his stomach, slightly sticking out from under his loose shirt.

'I don't look that... I think.'

He slid his legs off the couch and looked toward the kitchen, as if expecting Seiji to throw another line at him like a sentence.

'He... He really wants to fatten me up? So I can't go out? That... sounds like something he'd do... He is pretty... strategic...'

- uncertainty written all over his face.

He frowned, biting his lip, then grabbed a pillow and curled up slightly with a troubled expression.

Suddenly, Seiji's calm voice came from the kitchen:
"You don't go out anyway. You might not even notice the difference."

It sounded so indifferent - more like a dry fact than a joke.

"N-not true!" Hideaki yelled in protest, his face a mix of annoyance and genuine worry. "Stupid..." He murmured to himself, still clutching the pillow.

After a moment, Hideaki glanced toward the kitchen again, almost afraid that Seiji might prepeare somthing more to eat and then drag him to a scale by force.

But Seiji was composed as always. He was making another coffee for himself.

When Hideaki saw that, he exhaled heavily and slowly began calming down.

For a while, there was silence.

Hideaki stared at the ceiling, as if drifting off somewhere in his thoughts. Then he took a voice, clearly sounding calmer.

"This whole dinner reminded me of how, as a kid, I used to eat until I was stuffed... Sometimes even too stuffed... hehe..." He scratched the back of his head, a bit self-conscious.

Seiji raised an eyebrow and liften his gaze from his phone.

"Doesn't look like much has changed in that regard."

"Tch..." Hideaki hissed lightly, but didn't fight back. Instead, his voice softened even more, unexpectedly.

"I always wanted something sweet after dinner. My grandma sometimes used to make homemade Kasutera... the best I've ever had."

Seiji shrugged internally.
'And now he's giving me his life story? What's the occasion?'

"After she died... and after everything else that happened... I tried to find something similar. I even stole one from a bakery once. But it just wasn't the same."

Seiji turned his head slightly.
"You stole sweets?" he asked - not surprised, but with a hint of curiosity.

"I didn't have money! Plus I w-wanted to get something for my birthday, okay?"
Hideaki replied more quietly, as if he felt a bit ashamed of his confession.

"Birthday, huh?" Seiji's curiosity shifted slightly. "So when is this tragic holiday?" he asked, deadpan.

"Tch- W-why do you want to know?" Hideaki eyed him suspiciously.

"Just curious," Seiji replied, his tone even, giving away nothing.

Hideaki chewed on his answer, then finally relented. "October twentieth. And yours?"

"December thirteenth," Seiji replied.

"So, in winter..."

Seiji chuckled softly. "Theoretically, it's not quite true, because astronomical winter doesn't start until December twenty first. It's still autumn until then, so technically my birthday is in late autumn."

"Tch," Hideaki hissed, irritated by his cleverness. "December is already winter for me! Autumn is from September to November!"

Seiji shook his head with a faint smile. "It's not working like that.."

"Sh-shut up..." Hideaki whispered through gritted teeth, then...
"W-what's your favorite season?" he asked a bit shyly.

"Spring."

"Oh..." Hideaki responded, as if unsure how to react.

"Yours?"

"Autumn," Hideaki mumbled, adding "I hate Summer! It's too hot and steamy... I wish it could just be Autumn all year round."

"I agree. Summer's unbearable." Seiji's voice remained neutral, though he clearly understood Hideaki's distaste.

"It's like living in hell," Hideaki groaned. "I just want October to hurry up!"

"Because of your birthday?"

"N-no! Well... m-maybe." On Hideaki's cheeks appeared blushes "I just... like the changing colours of leaves on trees during Autumn..." He clutched the hem of his shirt, kneading it between his fingers. "A-and the cool weather, the fact that you can wear nice long sleeved clothes, the pastel colours of the sky during sunsets... the rustle of leaves on the sidewalk with every step, a-and the air has its specific smell..."

Seiji glanced at Hideaki's reddening face, arching a brow. "That's a very poetic way of saying 'I like wearing hoodies,'" he remarked dryly.

Hideaki pouted. "It's not just about that! You don't get it!"

Seiji smirked slightly. "No, I get it. You want to live in a perpetual state of aesthetic melancholy." He rested his chin on his hand. "Fitting."

"Tch! Shut up! I-I also like the spooky atmosphere d-during evenings..." Hideaki mumbled, trying to hide his embarrassment.

Seiji chuckled, shaking his head. "Heh, now that sounds more like you."

"What's that supposed to mean!?" Hideaki snapped, eyes narrowing.

"Nothing. Just that October suits you - dark, dramatic, and full of surprises. Fits the spooky vibe perfectly." Seiji's smirk remained in place, knowing exactly how to push Hideaki's buttons.

"Tch! I'm not dramatic!" Hideaki barked back.

"Yes, yes. Especially every time you whine about wanting a cinnamon roll," Seiji remarked, his smirk deepening as he enjoyed teasing Hideaki.

Hideaki groaned, turning away with a huff.

"Relax," Seiji said, exhaling. "I like Autumn too. Less sweating, fewer people outside. And, fine - I'll admit, the leaves are nice."

Their talk drifted on with surprising ease, punctuated now and then by one of Seiji's sharper comments.

Yet beneath it, something had shifted - the tension between them loosening, giving way to something more genuine.