Under One Roof

CHAPTER-19

The city felt different after sunset, quieter in the sense that only the small hum of distant traffic, occasional footsteps, and the soft rustle of leaves marked its presence. I held my coat tighter around me, heart thudding with nerves I couldn’t quite suppress. It had been days since Issei’s last message, a short text confirming he could see me tonight, somewhere private. Somewhere no one would notice.

I followed the directions he’d sent, vague enough to feel clandestine, precise enough to guide me to his apartment. The building was modest, unassuming, blending into the row of city blocks with only the faint glow of a single lamp near the entrance. I paused outside the door, my chest tightening as if the world itself held its breath.

Kana arrived, and before Issei could even step forward, she moved instinctively, arms wrapping around him. The world shrank to the warmth of his chest, the solid steadiness of him pressed against her. She inhaled sharply, as if trying to store every ounce of him into memory, and felt the tension she’d been holding, the distance, the rumors, the uncertainty melt just a little.

He froze for a heartbeat, then his arms came up, holding her gently but firmly, as though letting her lean on him without letting go of himself. “Kana…” he murmured, voice low, almost in awe.

“I… missed you,” she whispered, face pressed against his coat.

“I missed you too,” he replied, tightening his hold slightly, grounding her. “More than you know.”

The hug lingered, unhurried, a silent acknowledgment of everything they hadn’t said, everything the outside world demanded they keep at bay. When they finally pulled back slightly, foreheads resting together, the air between them was charged, intimate, ready for the next step the soft, tentative kiss that followed naturally.

“Hey,” he said softly, breaking the embrace allowing me to get through the small hallway me in.

“Hey,” I replied, the word catching in my throat. The city noise faded behind me, replaced by the subtle hum of the apartment, books stacked in neat towers, a guitar resting in the corner, the faint smell of coffee lingering in the air. It felt… real. Personal. Different from the curated image of him the world saw.

He gestured toward the small living room. “Sit,” he said simply. “I’ll make tea.”

I perched on the edge of the couch, hands clasped tightly in my lap, aware of every inch of the space between us. He moved around the kitchen, quiet but deliberate, steam rising from the kettle as he prepared our cups. 

I watched him, memorizing the small details, the tilt of his shoulders, the concentration in his eyes, the way he seemed so completely at ease here.

Returning with the tea, he handed me a cup, our fingers brushing lightly, sending an electric jolt up my arm. “Here,” he said. “Warm up a little.”

“Thanks,” I murmured, taking the cup. The heat seeped into my hands, grounding me for a moment.

We sipped in silence for a few minutes, the kind of silence that felt like a conversation in itself. I let my gaze wander around the room, noting the shelves lined with CDs, notebooks, and a small keyboard pushed against the wall. My curiosity prickled.

“You… make music here?” I asked hesitantly, pointing to the keyboard.

He looked up, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before he smiled softly. “Yeah. Mostly when I’m… thinking. Writing. Experimenting.”

I blinked, caught off guard. I knew he played casually, had mentioned it once or twice, but I had never seen him in this element. It was… personal, private, almost sacred.

“Can I… hear something?” I asked, almost whispering.

He paused, then chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You might be disappointed. It’s not finished. Not even close.”

“Please,” I insisted, leaning forward slightly. “I want to know you. All of you.”

There was a beat of hesitation, and then he nodded. He moved to the keyboard, fingers brushing lightly over the keys, producing soft, tentative notes. 

The melody was raw, unpolished, but it carried weight emotion steeped into every note. It was hauntingly beautiful.

I watched him, captivated. There was a side of him I hadn’t seen before, one that existed beyond the casual confidence, beyond the quiet smile, beyond the public perception. This was Issei in the purest form—vulnerable, passionate, completely absorbed in what he loved.

“You… didn’t tell me this,” I said softly, almost afraid to break the spell.

“Didn’t think it mattered,” he replied, eyes still on the keys. “Or maybe… didn’t think anyone would understand.”

“I do,” I whispered, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

He looked up then, and the intensity in his gaze made my chest tighten. “You really do?”

“I do,” I confirmed. “It’s… incredible. You’re incredible.”

A small, almost shy smile tugged at his lips, and he returned his hands to the keys, letting the music flow again. I closed my eyes, letting it wash over me. Each note felt like a confession, a story, a glimpse into the depths of him that he rarely shared with anyone.

Minutes passed. Hours could have passed. I wasn’t keeping track. The world outside ceased to exist. And then, as the final notes lingered, he turned toward me fully, eyes soft but searching.

“You know,” he said quietly, “I don’t usually let people in. Not like this.”

“I’m glad I’m here,” I said simply, meaning every word.

His smile deepened, a mixture of relief and something unspoken. He leaned closer, and my heart skipped a beat. The air between us thickened, charged with the intimacy of shared secrets and unspoken longing.

“I’ve missed this,” he murmured, voice low. “Missed… you.”

I swallowed, heat flooding my cheeks. “I’ve missed you too. More than I realized.”

He reached out slowly, fingers brushing mine, tentative at first. I didn’t pull away. The contact was electric, familiar, and yet thrilling in its rarity.

And then, in a moment that felt both inevitable and impossible, he leaned closer, lips brushing mine in a soft, tentative kiss. My breath caught, knees weak, chest tightening as the world fell away. It was gentle, careful, yet laden with everything we hadn’t said.

I responded instinctively, letting myself melt into the quiet of his presence, the warmth of his hands, the sincerity of his touch. The kiss lingered, deepening slightly, before we pulled back just enough to catch our breath, foreheads resting together.

“You… you’re incredible,” I whispered, voice trembling slightly.

He chuckled softly, lips brushing my temple. “So are you. And you… you make everything feel worth it.”

For a while, we just sat there, letting the night carry us. No schedules, no expectations, no pressures. Just the two of us and the fragile intimacy we could steal from a world that demanded distance.

And as I finally rose to leave, the city lights casting a soft glow over the apartment, I realized something fundamental: despite the distance, despite the pressures, despite the rumors and the expectations, we had these moments. Moments that were ours alone.

And sometimes, that was enough to keep hope alive.

END CHAPTER-19