A Night to Remember

The next morning, I woke up to the vibrations of my alarm, and the first thing I saw after unlocking my phone was the glow of a new notification from an unknown number.

“Bring me a cup of coffee once you get to class. Don’t be late, Scholar Boy.”

I didn’t have time to brew anything "special," and I certainly didn't have the money for any premium beans; she’d have to deal with a cup of cheap instant coffee instead. After boiling the water and mixing the bitter powder, I poured the instant coffee into a cheap thermos and headed off to the academy.

The classroom was almost full when I arrived. Of course, Reina was already there, looking immaculate in her perfectly ironed blazer.

I didn't even get the chance to set my bag down. As I approached my desk, she simply held out her hand, her eyes never leaving the tablet she was scrolling through.

I stopped beside her and placed the mug into her open palm. “It’s just cheap instant coffee; you probably won't like it.”

She took a slow, deliberate sip. I watched her closely expecting her to grimace or pour it out. Instead, her expression remained a mask of cool indifference as she set the thermos down with a sharp clack.

“Bitter, bland... Just you, Akizuki," she murmured, her eyes meeting mine.

"Yeah, I figured as much," reaching out to snatch the thermos back from her desk. “I’ll just drink it instead.”

Before my fingers could close around the metal, her hand flashed out, pinning the container to the table. “I’m not finished with that Akizuki.”

“What? I thought you said it was terrible."

“It is,” she replied, slowly unscrewing the cap again. “I said it was bad; I didn't say I didn't want it. It’s my coffee, isn't it?”

“If you really want to drink the cheap stuff, then be my guest, Kujo.”

She pulled the thermos closer to her side of the desk, her fingers lingering on the scuffed paint of the metal, for a second longer than necessary. “Now sit. You're being loud, and I’d like to enjoy my sludge in peace.”

The morning continued as normal; the lecture was slow. I tried to focus, but the exhaustion was overwhelming. My head bobbed, and my pen trailed a jagged line on my notebook as my vision blurred.

A sharp metallic clink on my desk brought me back to reality.

“You’re falling asleep again, Akizuki.” Reina was holding the thermos out to me. "Drink.  I don’t want to be the one to catch you when you eventually fall off your seat.”

I hesitated for a bit before grabbing the thermos, my mind still fogged from the exhaustion. I watched as the steam from the warm coffee rose up, and then I looked at the rim, then back at her. “Which side did you drink from?”

Reina didn't even bat an eye, but I could see a small, sharp glint of amusement in her dark irises. “Does it matter which side I drank from, Akizuki?”

“Well, no. Not really,” I muttered, adjusting my collar slightly, “But I thought you woud’ve minded if... you know...”

She paused, her pen now floating above her notebook, a small predatory smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “Don’t tell me that the ‘Scholar King’ is afraid of a little indirect kiss.” she whispered, leaning in close enough that the scent of her jasmine perfume started clouding my focus even more. “You know, most people would pay a fortune to even breathe the same air as me, and here you are, worried about a plastic rim.”

I quickly raised the thermos to my lips to hide my face, taking a long, hurried gulp of the bitter sludge; the harsh bitterness of the cheap coffee grounds jolted my nervous system back to life.

As I handed the cup back, our fingers brushed, a brief, quiet spark of heat that did more to wake me up than the caffeine ever could.

"Better?" she whispered, her eyes flickering with a hint of something that wasn't quite mockery.

"Passable," I muttered, mirroring her earlier insult.

After the afternoon lecture had finally reached its merciful end. The professor gathered his notes and slipped out the door, leaving the hall to the low hum of shifting chairs and zipping of bags.

I rushed out of the classroom since my shift at the konbini starts in thirty minutes, but as I got to the exit of our building, I noticed that it had started raining hard.

"Great," I muttered, my shoulders sagging. I hadn't brought an umbrella, and there was no way I was making it to work without arriving looking like a drowned rat.

Suddenly, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I fished it out, seeing Haruna’s name flash on the screen.

“Kaito! Good news, I talked to the manager earlier and convinced him to give you the day off!”

“Oh really? Thanks, Haruna, you’re a lifesaver."

“Don’t sweat it. Anyways, I have to go get back to work. You better take this opportunity to rest, okay?”

“I’ll try my best. Thanks again.”

I hung up the phone and let out a sigh of relief. Finally, I can get some proper rest.

“...Judging by your expression, I take it that you have the day off?”

I nearly jumped out of my skin, spinning around to find Reina standing just behind me. "Eavesdropping, Reina? That’s a new low even for you.”

“I didn’t say you could go home, right? So why did you scurry out of the classroom so fast?”

I blinked, my relief curdling into a familiar sense of dread. “I have a shift—well, I had a shift. And I don’t recall needing your permission to leave a lecture that’s already over.”

“You are currently an investment of my time and resources,” she said, stepping closer until the scent of her expensive perfume fought against the smell of wet concrete. “And an investment is only valuable if it’s where I need it, when I need it.”

She reached into her bag and pulled out a black folding umbrella and pressed the handle into my chest. “Since your shift has been canceled, you’ll be escorting me this afternoon.”

“Escorting you?” I pointed the umbrella to the door. “In this weather? By the time we even reach your place, we’ll both be soaked.”

“Then you better make sure that you keep that umbrella steady, Akizuki," she countered. “Now move.”

Five minutes in I was already completely soaked. The umbrella was too small for both of us to fit in, though she remained somewhat untouched, and I could see a wet spot forming on her blazer. "Reina, why are you doing this?" I shouted over the roar of the thunder. "Where are we even going? Your driver usually picks you up at the main exit."

"I told him not to come," she murmured, her voice somehow cutting through the storm without her even raising it.

"Why? This isn't the way to the faculty parking or the dorms. Where are we even going?"

She paused at the corner of a narrow alleyway, her eyes flickering to the rusted street sign that led toward my district. A dark, satisfied smirk spread across her face. "We're going to your place, Akizuki."

“My place? You were just there last night,” I nearly dropped the umbrella, “and you’re going back again?”

“I need a survey of the living conditions of my rival; if it requires me to watch you all night, then I will.”

“All night? Reina, you can’t be serious. You have a mansion, a driver, and a bed that probably costs more than my entire tuition. Why would you want to spend another night in a cramped studio with peeling wallpaper?”

"Because I've grown quite fond of the stark contrast in our living conditions,” she said, her damp blazer pressing against my arm as the wind pushed us closer. “Besides, I have nothing to do at the mansion. Now, keep walking."

So that’s the real reason...

We were only a block away from my building when a strong gust of wind slammed into the umbrella, causing it to turn inside out and wrench from my hands. Within moments Reina was drenched with the rain, turning her perfectly styled hair into wet strands.

"I'm sorry," I gasped, my voice cracking as the cold finally started to settle into my bones. "The wind—I couldn't hold it."

I expected a stinging slap or a cold calculation of how much the lost umbrella would add to my debt. Instead, I felt her hands reach out, her fingers curling into the soaked fabric of my shirt to steady herself. She was shivering—not the violent, bone-deep tremors I had, but a fine, sharp shudder that made her seem human for the first time since I'd met her.

She looked up at me, her lashes heavy with droplets, her usual mask of indifference washed away by the storm. Her eyes were dark, searching my face with a strange, quiet intensity that made the freezing air feel suddenly electric.

"You're a disaster, Akizuki," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the rhythmic drumming of the rain on the metal shutter behind us. "Completely and utterly unreliable."

"I'll go get it," I said, moving to step back into the flood, but her grip on my shirt tightened, anchoring me in place.

"Don't be a fool. It’s broken anyways, and I have no desire to explain to the faculty why my 'investment' drowned in a gutter." She looked toward the dim yellow glow of my apartment's entrance just a few yards away. "Forget the umbrella. Just get me inside before the rest of my pride washes away."

She nudged my chest with her forehead, a gesture that felt less like a command and more like a weary surrender. "Move, Scholar Boy. Unless you're planning on letting me freeze to death on the sidewalk."

The final stretch to the apartment door, I was digging in my pockets to find my keys, but suddenly, Reina took out her own copy of the key and opened the door, and we stumbled into the dimly lit apartment.

Reina took her shoes off and immediately walked into the center of the room. She reached up and unbuttoned her damp blazer, letting the heavy garment slide off her shoulders and hitting the floor with a wet thud.

"Akizuki," she whispered, her voice thin and vibrating with a chill that had finally pierced her composure. "I... I’m cold. Genuinely cold."

I froze. Hearing her admit to a physical weakness was more jarring than the storm itself.

“Don’t just stand there,” she said, sitting down on the edge of my bed. “Get me a change of clothes before I get sick.”

“Right. Right, sorry.” Moving to the small closet, pulling a faded, oversized hoodie and a pair of gray sweatpants

“Is this the best you have?” 

“Take it or leave it, Reina.”

She let out a dry laugh, which sounded like a purr. “I’ll take it. Now turn around. If you catch even a glimpse of me while I’m changing, I’ll take you to court.”

“I'm turning, I'm turning," I said, retreating to the kitchenette to change my clothes while starting up to brew two cups of coffee.

The sound of wet, heavy wool peeling away and hitting the floor with a sodden thud was loud in the small space. Followed by the soft rustle of the thick cotton hoodie being pulled over her head. “Alright, Akizuki, you can turn around now.”

I turned around, and for a second, my breath caught in my throat. Seeing Reina Kujo, the untouchable heiress swallowed up in my oversized hoodie, was surreal. The sleeves were far too long, hiding her hands, and the hood, bunched up around her neck, made her look strangely small against the backdrop of my small studio.

She was sitting on the edge of my futon, the gray sweatpants pooled around her ankles. She looked... human.

"Stop staring," she clipped out, though her voice lacked its usual bite. She was still shivering, her small frame vibrating under the heavy fabric.

“... I think you owe me an explanation, Reina. Why are you really here? ”

She leaned her head back against the worn cushion. “Because I feel like it,” her eyes fluttering shut.

“Because you... feel like it? ” repeated, incredulous. I set a chipped mug of steaming, dark coffee on the low table in front of her and sat down on the futon with her. “It’s a Tuesday night, Reina. Does your family even know that you’re here? ”

She opened one eye, the dark iris catching the orange glow of the space heater. A thin, ghostly smirk played on her lips.

"My family believes I am at a seminar in the city." She reached out, wrapping both hands around the hot mug. The steam curled around her face, softening the harsh lines of her expression. “You know, Akizuki, most of the people in this building are probably out working, cursing the storm. But you... You were out there trying to keep a folding umbrella steady for someone.”

“I couldn’t say no. We both know that,” I said, sliding down on the floor across from her.

“Is that all it is? Purely... Transactional?" She tilted her head, the oversized hood slipping further back to reveal the pale curve of her neck.  "You could have left me at that corner store once the wind picked up." She took a slow sip of the coffee, her eyes never leaving mine. "But you didn't. You stayed out in the rain, just to ensure I stayed dry.”

"It’s called being responsible for my situation. If you get sick, my 'situation' gets complicated. I’m just protecting my own interests."

"A clever answer," she murmured, taking a sip of the coffee, "and a lie. You’re far too prideful to be purely a 'toy,' Kaito. That’s why I find you so... intriguing."

She set the mug down and reached out, her fingers brushing the damp hem of my dry shirt. The contact was brief, but it felt like an electric current in the cramped space.

"The storm isn't going to let up until morning," she said, her voice dropping into that dangerous, silken register as she gently tapped the futon a few times. "Since you’re so fond of 'escorting' me, you can spend the rest of the night ensuring I don't catch a chill. I believe your miserable bed is the only place in this room that isn't currently drafty."

I looked at the small bed, then back at her. "Reina, that’s a very small futon. And you're wearing my clothes. Don't you think this is a bit—"

"I think," she interrupted, her eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that brooked no argument, "that an investor has the right to inspect the quality of her assets. Now, be a good scholar and move the textbooks off the bed.”

“The futon is barely big enough for me, let alone... this Reina.” I stayed rooted to the floor, my eyes darting toward the single, rickety wooden chair by my desk. "I'll just... I'll take the chair. I can lean against the desk. I've pulled plenty of all-nighters there anyway."

"No."

I paused, the blanket halfway to the chair. "No?"

I hesitated, the rain hammering a frantic rhythm against the glass. The air in the room had grown heavy, charged with a tension that had nothing to do with the storm.

"Reina, if anyone at school found out about this—"

"Then they would learn that I own you even more completely than they imagined," she interrupted, her eyes tracking my movement as I slowly sat on the edge of the mattress. "But they won't. Because you're far too terrified of me to ever speak a word of it."

She reached out, her fingers catching the hem of my shirt and tugging me down. The futon was narrow, impossibly so. As I lay back, I was acutely aware of the warmth radiating from her, the scent of her perfume now completely entwined with my own laundry detergent.

Before she had settled in, Reina reached for the long pillow I usually keep against the wall, shoving it between us. “This is our official professional border. You are not to cross it. If you even think of doing anything, I’ll consider it a breach of our agreement.”

"Clear enough," I’d muttered, keeping my arms pinned to my sides.

“Good, now rest, Akizuki.”

I turned off the main light, leaving only the dim, amber glow of the desk lamp. For the first hour, we were two statues separated by a mountain of fabric. But as the night wore on and the rain settled into a rhythmic drizzle, the "professional distance" began to erode.

In her sleep, the iron-willed Reina Kujo was much less disciplined. I felt the body pillow shift first, sliding toward the edge of the mattress as she turned. Then came the warmth.

Slowly, she began to gravitate toward the center. First, the oversized sleeve of my hoodie brushed against my shoulder. Then, with a soft, subconscious sigh, she rolled completely over, her head sliding off her own pillow and onto the crook of my arm.

I froze, as her fingers curled into the fabric of my t-shirt, pulling herself closer until her forehead was resting against my collarbone. She looked remarkably peaceful, the predatory sharpness of her waking hours replaced by a soft vulnerability.

"Reina?" I whispered, though I knew she wouldn't answer.

She only murmured something unintelligible, her grip tightening on my shirt as she tucked her chin deeper into the space above my chest. It was a bizarre, silent surrender. The girl who demanded absolute control of every room she entered was now anchored to a "miserable" scholar in a third-floor studio.

I sighed, finally letting my own tension drain away. I didn't move my arm, nor did I try to restore the barrier. I just lay there in the dim light, watching the shadows of the rain dance across the hideous floral wallpaper, realizing that for all her talk of investments and assets, Reina Kujo was currently the one breaking all the rules.

The night deepened, the storm outside transitioning from a violent roar to a rhythmic, hypnotic drumming against the glass. Inside the studio, the air was warm and still, smelling faintly of the lavender soap she must have used earlier and the sharp, metallic tang of the aging radiator.

My arm was starting to go numb under the weight of her head, but the risk of waking her wasn't worth the relief. But suddenly, Reina shifted again, her hand, previously curled into my shirt, slid upward until her palm rested flat against my chest, right over my heart. 

I held my breath, certain the frantic thump-thump against her skin would pull her back to consciousness.

Instead, she let out a long, contented sigh, her lashes fluttering against my shoulder. "Kaito..." she murmured. It wasn't the sharp, commanding snap she used in the lecture halls or the silken, dangerous tone she used when discussing my debt. It was a soft, almost plaintive version of my name I’d never heard before.

She settled in deeper, her knee hooking over mine, effectively pinning me to the mattress. The pillow was now a discarded heap at the foot of the bed, a forgotten treaty in the face of a cold night and a warm human radiator.

I looked down at her. In the amber glow of the desk lamp, the shadows under her eyes seemed a little less pronounced, the tension in her jaw completely gone. It was a strange realization: Reina Kujo, the girl who could ruin my academic career with a single phone call, was currently a very small, very cold girl who just wanted to stay warm.

I reached out with my free hand, hesitating for a long second before finally, carefully, pulling the thin comforter up over her shoulder. She didn't wake, but she did press closer to the heat, her fingers tightening their hold on my shirt as if she were afraid I’d disappear into the shadows if she let go.

The rain continued its steady, lonely beat against the window, but for the first time since I'd moved into this cramped, third-floor studio, the room didn't feel quite so empty. I closed my eyes, the exhaustion of the day finally pulling me under, wondering just how much interest she’d try to charge me for the "theft" of her professional distance come morning.

The morning light was thin and grey, filtering through the rain-streaked window and casting a dull glow over the peeling floral wallpaper. The studio was held in a heavy, humid silence, broken only by the rhythmic dripping from the gutters.

I woke up with a dead weight on my chest and a "pins-and-needles" sensation in my left arm so intense it felt like a thousand tiny electric shocks.

Reina was still there. Yet, the so-called border was nowhere to be found, having been kicked to the floor sometime during the night. She had migrated entirely into my space; her face was tucked into the crook of my neck, and her hand was splayed flat against my heart, anchoring her to me. 

In the cold light of day, seeing the untouchable Kujo heiress swallowed up in my piled-up, oversized hoodie was jarring. She looked soft and dangerously so.

I stayed frozen, barely daring to breathe, waiting for the inevitable.

It didn't take long. I felt her lashes flutter against my skin. Her fingers, still curled into my shirt, twitched. Then, with a soft, subconscious hum, she began to stir. Her head lifted slowly, the silk of her hair brushing my chin as she blinked her eyes open.

She didn't move for three full seconds.

I watched the realization hit her in real-time. Her gaze traveled from my jawline down to her own hand resting over my heart, then to her leg hooked over mine, and finally to the discarded body pillow in the corner of the room.

The transformation was instant. Reina bolted upright, scrambling backward until she hit the wall with a soft thud. Her usual mask of icy temperament was nowhere to be seen. A deep, vivid flush swept across her cheeks, reaching all the way to the tips of her ears.

"Akizuki!" she gasped, her voice cracking in a way I’d never heard. She looked down at her hands as if they’d betrayed her, then looked at me with wide, panicked eyes. "Th-The pillow, w-what happened?”

"The border you set up is currently on the floor Reina," I muttered, sitting up and wincing as the blood finally started screaming back into my numb arm. "You're the one who invaded my half of the bed.”

"I did no such thing!" she snapped, though her voice lacked its usual lethal edge. She pulled the oversized sleeves of the hoodie over her hands, trying to hide the fact that they were shaking slightly. She looked absolutely mortified, her breath coming in quick, shallow hitches. "T-there’s no way I’d do that unconsciously!”

"You were literally snoring into my collarbone."

"I do NOT snore!" She scrambled off the bed, nearly tripping over the long hem of the hoodie. She stood in the center of the room, her face still burning a bright, frantic red. She looked everywhere but at me—at the ceiling, at the kettle, at the hideous floral wallpaper. Her composure was a smoking ruin.

She grabbed her damp blazer from the chair, clutching it to her chest like a shield. "Forget this. Forget all of it! If you mention even a hint at what happened during this... this lapse in judgment, I will ensure you are expelled before the first lecture!"

"Reina, you're still blushing," I pointed out.

"I am NOT!" she shouted, though the heat in her face suggested otherwise. She turned toward the door, her movements uncharacteristically clumsy. "I… I am leaving. My driver is likely circling the block.”

The sound of the door slamming echoed through the small studio, leaving a vacuum of silence that felt heavier than the storm ever had. I sat on the edge of the lumpy futon, my arm still tingling with that pins-and-needles burn, staring at the space she’d just occupied.

"A lapse in judgment," I muttered to the empty room, a tired, lopsided smile tugging at my mouth. "Sure, Reina. Let’s go with that."

I stood up, my legs feeling a bit like jelly, and walked over to the window. Down in the street, a sleek, black sedan was idling.

I watched as the door to my building burst open and a small figure in a hoodie and sweatpants practically lunged into the backseat.

I stood up to straighten the twisted sheets, but as I pulled back the pillow she’d been using as a shield, my breath hitched. There, neatly folded but clearly forgotten in her frantic retreat, was her school skirt.

I picked it up. It felt light, almost weightless, but in this room, it carried the weight of a signed confession. It was small and seeing it lying on my bed felt like a massive breach of the social order.

I sat back down at the wooden table, the steam from the kettle starting to fog up my glasses. "Scholar Boy," I whispered, the lopsided smile fading into a look of pure panicked realization.

 "You are in so much trouble."