Hazel: Stay.

He blinked. “Sorry?”

She glanced at the bag for half a second. “Too small. Someone moving in for months would’ve at least brought some clothes. Well, I’d hope so.”

“Well.” He followed her gaze. “You aren’t wrong. I wasn’t planning to stay tonight.”

“You were supposed to move in today.”

“I’m aware.”

“Then why aren’t you?”

Because I walked into a house where someone slammed the door in my face before I could say my own name and another person is currently holding my hand like she’s known me for three years and if I had shown up with a full suitcase I would’ve looked insane!

“I just wanted to get a feel for the place, who I’m dealing with and all. Then I’d head back, prepare properly, and get to work.”

“Mm.” She adjusted the cloth again. “Half-assing it.”

“What? I’m not—” He sighed. “I’m not… half-arsing it.”

“Then why are you treating this like a visit?”

“Well yeah, it kind of is.”

“It’s your home,” she said, irritatingly calmly. “We’re stuck with you, and you’re stuck with us. Ibuki signed us up without asking, but it’s done now, and we’re all committed to this thing whether we like it or not.”

Okay, but you’re not listening.

“That’s good and all, but if you’d actually let me finish—”

“You’re committed to this too, so acting like a visitor isn’t going to get us anywhere, and showing up for one evening before disappearing again is exactly—”

Oh you’re REALLY not gonna fucking listen, are you.

“—the sort of attitude that would make this whole thing fall apart before it even—”

“And if you had just—a little bit—just LISTENED to me for a few more seconds, you would’ve realised that I’m moving in tomorrow!”

Nagisa immediately stopped.

“When did I ever say I wasn’t going to move in? I’m moving in tomorrow. TOMORROW. You get that? Do you think anything would have gone better if I had just shown up today, with a massive suitcase and everything, trying to move in without even meeting you people? Without most of you knowing who I am? What would’ve happened if I just showed up and went ‘Hi, girls, I’m a totally random dude that you don’t know but I’m going to be living here for the next god knows how long’?”

Arata laughed to himself. “‘Hah, the stranger brought a TOOTHBRUSH, that changes everything! Let me prepare the guest room!’”

He turned to face her properly. “I just wanted to prepare, and I wanted you people to prepare. That’s why I’ve come here. That’s all I wanted to do today. Isn’t that BETTER than just showing up with a suitcase?”

Deep breath.

“But sure, I’m ‘half-assing it’, I really am. How dare I—how DARE I try to introduce myself! Unacceptable! Unthinkable!”

He leaned in, his hand still caught in hers.

“Wanna call it half-arsing? You wanna call it that? What do you know about me? What do you know about my methods? What do you know about what I plan to do here? Don’t you ever say that again, because from what I’m seeing, I’m the only one here that’s at least TRYING to prepare.”

…

Her eyes were hazel.

Or were they? Brown, maybe. They started brown at the edges, then lightened into a pretty weird colour towards the centre. Are they green? They look green. No, probably brown with the light playing games. What’s the difference between brown and hazel anyway?

Her eyes had a gentle shape to them. Not soft per se, but her eyes looked like they knew how to take care of people. That sounds a little weird. Experienced, possibly? No, that’s not it. Actually, it was pretty hard to tell what her natural eye shape was. She kept narrowing her eyes, just a little, for some reason. It was uncomfortable. She isn’t doing that right now, though.

He was out of breath. When did that happen?

There was a mark under her left eye. Tiny thing. A freckle, a spot, whatever it was. It sat just below the lash line, a bit off to the side. He hadn’t noticed it before, despite how close their faces had been.

Her eyelashes were long. Like actually long.

They’re… yep, they’re about the same colour as her hair. That’s what I would’ve expected. Most people’s eyelashes are like that, right? Hell if I know. When have I ever paid attention to someone’s eyelashes? Never. That would be weird.

…

Wait.

What exactly am I doing right now?

Oh no.

Oh no no no.

He pulled back.

Well, “pulled back” is generous. What he actually did was reposition, slowly. A little too slow. He was simply trying to get comfortable on the sofa, and he had definitely not just spent an unknowable stretch of time cataloguing a stranger’s iris like some sort of amateur optometrist.

Nothing happened. I did nothing.

Nagisa, who had witnessed every second of the thing that didn’t happen, was still watching him.

“How brave of you.”

…?

He contemplated looking back at her, but he decided against it.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Hmm.” She looked down at the ice and adjusted it a tad. “You tell me.”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay.”

Fine, don’t explain it. I didn’t want to know anyway.

…

How brave of you.

Let’s see… brave enough to do what, exactly? Stare? That might be it, since—

Ah, right. Didn’t I just scream at her?

Yeah, that was pretty mean. Not to say that she didn’t deserve it, but it was a bit much. On second thought, she deserved it.

His other hand tapped against his thigh.

So, she’s mad at me. ‘How brave of you’ as in, ‘how brave of you to talk to me like that’. Yup. Great. Another enemy in the house.

The cold pressed deeper into his hand, enough to startle him.

He glanced up at her face.

…What the hell is that?

She was still smiling, but there was something different about it now. Strangely peaceful. Buddha-like, even.

Seriously, what IS that face? I’ve seen villains in movies look less pleased with themselves after successfully blowing up the moon. Why’s she looking at my hand like she personally grew these knuckles in a garden and they’ve just come into bloom?

No, she’s plotting something. She’s a masochist who enjoys being yelled at. Actually, I wouldn’t be surprised. She respects me now? No, that can’t be it. No one respects you after you scream at them like a lunatic. Unless she’s a lunatic. Unless she’s a masochist? Wait, I swear I thought of that like a second ago.

The grin on her face did not waver. If anything, it settled even deeper.

What is wrong with you?

…

“What’s in the bag?”

One moment she was smiling like the Mona Lisa’s unsettling cousin, the next she was asking about his bag like they were making small talk at a bus stop.

“Not much.” He reached for it with his free hand. The movement was a little awkward with his other hand in her custody. “A few notebooks, pens, a charger. That’s about it.”

“Hm…”

She had a habit of that, too. Saying “hm” as if she was pondering a question the universe couldn’t possibly answer.

“Still no clothes, then?”

“Why would I bring clothes?”

“You were supposed to move in today.”

“We literally JUST had this conversation.”

She shrugged, then continued to treat his hand.

Easy.

Arata focused his gaze on the bag. People don’t stare at nurses while they’re being treated, do they?

Well, she isn’t a nurse. Actually, isn’t that worse?

She adjusted the cloth.

Man. I should move my hand away. This is awkward.

It curled.

And it stings so bad.

Curled a little too much.

Uh?

“Stay.”

She said it so softly. It almost didn’t sound like an order.

He took two deep breaths, then looked at their hands.

…

“So?”

“I’m not staying tonight.”

“Why not?”

One more breath.

“Does it look like I’ve packed adequately for such a situation? What was the point in asking what I’ve got in there if you’re just going to disregard the fact that I don’t—I just—”

“Stay.” Infuriatingly soft.

“…What am I supposed to wear? I don’t have clothes. I don’t have a toothbrush. Where would I even sleep? Is there even a guest room? Homura literally said I wasn’t allowed upstairs, would you really go against her just for—”

“The sofa’s comfortable.”

She isn’t wrong, I could definitely manage here. Actually, why am I talking myself into this?!

“But that’s—”

“There’s a bathroom downstairs. We have spare toothbrushes somewhere.” Their eyes met. “Is that all you need, tutor? Or is there more?”

Those are some fast answers. You wouldn’t have… prepared for this, would you? No, surely not. How would you know I’d have asked those exact questions? Hmm… they’re pretty standard questions, though.

“Well, I don’t have clothes.”

“You can sleep in what you’re wearing.”

“What about tomorrow?”

“You can borrow mine, of course.”

“P-Pardon?”

She giggled again. “Got excited, hm? It was just a joke. You’d go back tomorrow, get your stuff, and come back.”

I knew that, obviously. I would know that.

“Then what’s the point of me staying tonight if I’m just going back tomorrow?”

“Mmm.” Her index finger moved, slowly stroking the side of his hand. The pressure of the ice eased.

He held his breath.

She did it again, even slower this time.

Tsk.

His hand. It had been in her control for a while now, hadn’t it? She had been moving and adjusting it whenever and wherever she wanted. She’d gripped harder and pushed the ice into his hand when she needed an answer from him.

And…

She let him in after Homura shut him out, then got him onto the sofa.

Nagisa iced his hand because she wanted to. Nagisa kept him here, alone, because she wanted to.

Uh-huh.

Nagisa asked him to stay because she wanted to. Sorry, ‘asked’ isn’t the right term.

You want something from me?

Naturally. To assume it was out of attraction would be foolish. To assume she was just being nice would also be foolish. When was the last time that happened, Arata?

Don’t be ridiculous.

“Why so quiet?” She tilted her head.

Staying tonight didn’t make any sense. Why would you if you were just going to go back and pack up tomorrow?

Well, there was one reason.

No way. I’m better than that.

His eyes narrowed.

You didn’t willingly sign up for this, did you? That’s what you said. ‘Ibuki signed us up without asking’, I remember that.

So, spit it out.

What do you want?

He stared deeper into her eyes, hoping for an answer. At the same time, his stomach tightened. Fear? Anxiety?

Meh, he might’ve just been hungry.

Her eyes didn’t reveal anything.

Weird.

…

Footsteps on the stairs broke the silence.

They weren’t heavy, nor were they accompanied by the sound of a banister being punched, so no, it probably wasn’t Homura descending to hand him divine punishment for… something.

Arata pulled his hand back an inch.

The cloth dropped.

Most of the ice was gone. Why pretend anymore?

Her hand felt warm now. He had just endured an Antarctic winter on his hand, so the warmth was welcome. Not welcome.

But… isn’t this a little far?

The door creaked further open.

“Is there something in my eyes, tutor? You really like looking at them.”

He immediately looked away, towards the door. Nagisa did not. Hmph, doing this again, what is wrong with her—

What the fuck.

Is that… Is that Nagisa!? Wha—that’s—

His gaze flicked between the two of them.

—that’s her! What? Am I dreaming? Wait, no, this is a nightmare.

He wasn’t wrong. She was Nagisa. Not literally, probably. The girl’s hair was longer, and she didn’t seem to have that mark under her eye. Not like he could tell from that distance, anyway. He could tell that her expression was much more serious than Nagisa’s, though.

Until her face turned into absolute shock in about two seconds.

GASP!

Yes. A real, audible gasp.

Her finger shot up to point at him.

“Y-You’re—”

She stopped, then her eyes went even wider.

“A-ARE YOU TWO HOLDING HANDS!?”