Kai comes by every day, and a few days later, Khanh—Khánh with the accent—is finally looking better again, relieving the tension in Kai’s heart. During that time, Kai has also completely taken the old wallpaper down, and the fresh new coats of paint are down and dried.

Now that Kai feels he’s done satisfactorily in cleaning up the outdoor areas of Khánh’s house, he starts to look indoors. Khánh fusses when Kai oils the hinges to all the doors.

“You really don’t have to do anything,” Khánh says. “Sit down, let’s have lunch.”

“Then—then at least let me wash the dishes afterwards,” Kai says immediately. He feels like he needs to do something more. His phone is heavy in his pocket, with the little heart (orange, not red, but still) next to their name. The only way Kai knows how to show affection is do things, and at this rate, he’ll need to build a new extension for Khánh’s place to properly show his feelings without having to say anything and hope for the best—

“Alright,” Khánh says, interrupting Kai’s thoughts. They give him a sheepish look. “I need to head out after lunch to buy some things anyway, so I will trouble you to wash the dishes for me.”

Lunch is an assortment of small plates, things like thịt kho and gỏi and rice. Kai can’t help but feel something pleased inside him as he surveys the stewed pork and eggs and the Vietnamese salad. Each dish is associated with a memory of Khánh and their warm smile. After they finish eating, Kai reiterates that he’ll do the dishes, “So please don’t worry.” His heart flutters when Khánh smiles and finally leaves.

Quiet descends upon the house, and Kai sighs as he starts on the dishes. Maybe he could install a dishwasher? But there really isn’t any space; all the cupboard space under the counter-tops are filled.

Kai dries off the last of the dishes. That’s when he notices how sluggish the water is draining. A rush of relief goes through him, followed by a bit of guilt at his behaviour of trying to find failings in Khánh’s home.

But. This is still something he can do! While the water finishes draining, Kai goes off to collect various materials, including a large bucket and long thin piece of metal. Putting the bucket under the sink/drain to catch any water, gets onto his knees and untwists the screw that connects the sink to the curved pipe before it goes into the wall. He uses the thin piece of metal to pull out the gunk that has collected, carefully cleaning everything before fixing the curve drain pipe back in. While he’s at it, he goes and cleans up the pipes under the bathroom sink too.

“...Kai?” Khánh’s voice is high and breathless, sounding strained.

Kai starts, almost hitting his head at the bottom of the bathroom sink. Worried at the tone of Khánh’s voice, Kai quickly backs out and looks up.

Khánh’s eyes are wide, mouth open.

Kai stands up, trying not to loom over them. “Are you alright?”

Khánh swallows. “Er, Yes.”

Kai frowns and places a hand against Khánh’s forehead. But there is no sign of fever. “Did something happen when you went out?”

Khánh shakes their head. “No, no, I got everything I wanted. What were you doing?”

“Just cleaning out the drains, nothing much,” Kai quickly says.

“Yes. Right. Thank you. I’ll just be—I’m going to the kitchen and—do stuff.”

“Okay.” Kai stares at Khánh’s receding back, still worried. He hopes Khánh isn’t going to make something so strenuous as to require hours in the kitchen. Kai gets back on his knees and finishes up cleaning the bathroom sink’s drain. After dumping the water and watering the plants outside, Kai heads into the kitchen.

As it turns out, Khánh has started to make various chicken and prawn and fish stocks, which all take a while to cook. On the kitchen bench, there is still a pile of groceries that Khánh has just bought.

“Do you mind if I…?”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Khánh says quickly, still not looking at him.

“Okay.” Kai carefully puts away the groceries. By then, Khánh seems to have recovered from whatever it was, and they both head outside to the garden and sit and chat. Khánh shows off how big the plants have all gotten, and how they’re definitely taking good care of them.

As dinnertime approaches, Kai follows Khánh back into the kitchen. There is still rice in the rice cooker, so they can get started on the main dish now.

“Tonight, the main dish will be canh chua,” Khánh informs. “Canh—so, soup, and chua, meaning sour.”

“Canh chua,” Kai repeats dutifully.

“There are multiple versions, but today I’ll be using the fish stock and catfish,” Khánh continues. They add slices of fish into the soup, as well as sliced tomatoes, pineapple and beansprouts. “Do you still want some thịt kho?”

“Oh, yeah.” Kai gets out the container of leftover stewed pork and eggs and puts it into a small pot to heat up.

Soon, the dining table is laid out: bowls of rice, chopsticks, the dish of thịt kho and a large bowl for the canh chua.

Kai has the canh chua first. It’s sweet and sour and savoury and a little spicy all at once, and the fish is surprisingly soft and fatty, but in the best way, because the sourness helps balance the richness.

“This is really good,” Kai says. Even the soup broth is flavourful, as he discovers when he tries a spoonful alone.

“When my dad makes canh chua, it’s so sour that no one else can eat it,” Khánh says idly, their head resting on their hand, watching Kai.

Kai looks back at them cautiously, since Khánh rarely ever mentions their family. “Did he teach you how to cook?”

“No.”

Kai offers, “My dad always wanted a son, but when I came out, he wasn’t happy at all. He’s getting better now, but…” Kai has to stop himself from touching his chest, flattened by his binder. “Do you. Um. Have plans next month?”

Khánh gives him a curious look. “No.” Their lips curve up. “Are you planning something?”

“Only to be here,” Kai says shyly.

Khánh also ducks their head. “Okay,” they say, voice equally shy.

Kai’s heart flips. He wants to reach out, to tilt Khánh’s head up and...No, Kai, no! Kai swallows. “Do you want me to build an extension to the house?” he blurts out.

Khánh’s head snaps up, and they laugh. “No, whatever for? I think this house is perfectly sized for two people. Why did you ask?”

Two people! Khánh and...Kai?

Kai cheeks heat up. “Nothing,” he mumbles. “It’s just...there’s not much for me to do anymore. I feel like I’m imposing on you—how about we split the grocery bill?”

“No!” Khánh immediately disagrees. “No accounting between friends, remember? And at this critical time, I definitely need you to maintain the front and back gardens. Or...or else the back garden will turn into a forest again!”

Kai smiles weakly. “That’s true…”

“Exactly. Have you watched that latest nature series on Netflix? Our Planet, by David Attenborough?”

Kai quickly accepts the change of topic. “I haven’t, but I can check it out.”

Khánh excitedly recounts their favorite parts of the show, and Kai listens indulgently. Before he knows it, it’s time for him to go home and work at his dreary other job.

When Kai eventually leaves, Khánh says, “You’ll come back soon, yes?”

And faced with Khánh’s hopeful look, Kai can only agree.

*

Bonus scene:

Alternate universe: Khánh returns from shopping and finds a new addition to the house being built. Grocery bags drop from suddenly nerveless fingers. They sprint inside to where Kai is hammering away. “Make sure this one has more counter spaaaaace!!” they yell.

Clearly, they have their priorities straight.