Ren dried his hands on a towel, glancing over his shoulder.

Arin was still at the table, typing—her focus sharp, brows slightly furrowed.

The faint sound of keys tapping filled the quiet room, steady as a heartbeat.

He walked over, curiosity pulling him closer.

From behind her, the words on the screen caught his eye: 

‘Urban Density and the Boundaries of Modern Living.’

「…なんか、重い話だね。」

(“…That sounds heavy.”) 

He said lightly, leaning down a bit to read more.

Arin didn’t look up. 

“It is. I’m trying to find the link between population spread and the way people form—or don’t form—connections.”

Ren hummed thoughtfully. 

「つまり…近くにいても、心は遠いってこと？」

(“So basically… people living close, but feeling far?”)

That made her pause.

She turned slightly, surprised by how neatly he’d summarized her thoughts.

“…Yeah. Something like that.”

He gave a half-smile. 

「…なんか、俺たちみたいじゃない？」

(“Sounds a bit like… us, doesn’t it?”)

Arin blinked. 

“Us?”

He shrugged, playfully avoiding her gaze. 

“I mean— not ‘us’ us. Just… people like us. Online all the time, connected but not really there.”

Her lips curved faintly. 

“That’s actually… a good observation.”

「おや？　じゃあ、共著者として名前入れとこうか？」

(“Oh? Should I get a co-author credit?”) 

He teased.

She rolled her eyes, laughing softly. 

“You’d just write the title in katakana and call it a day.”

「おいおい、それが今どきのスタイルだろ？」

(“Hey, that’s modern style,”) 

He said, feigning offense, before lowering his voice.

Arin’s hands stilled over the keyboard.

Her gaze drifted toward the window—the slow sunlight tracing over the floorboards.

“…It used to feel enough,” 

She said quietly. 

“The chats, the calls, the games. But lately… I’m not sure anymore.”

Ren leaned against the table edge, studying her.

There was something honest in her tone—something that made him forget to reply right away.

Then, gently, he said,

「たぶん、だから今ここにいるのかもね。」

(“Maybe that’s why we’re here now.”)

Arin’s attention returned to her screen.

Her fingers moved faster now, words forming in a quiet rhythm—lines about expanding cities, shrinking spaces, and the invisible distances people built around themselves.

Ren stayed quiet, watching her work.

Her focus was different—calm but intent, the kind that drew everything else into stillness.

「…本気でやってるんだね。」

(“...You’re really into this.”) 

He murmured, almost to himself.

Arin didn’t look up. 

“I have to submit the draft soon. And I’m… stuck.”

He walked closer, folding his arms as he peeked at the screen.

「どのあたり？」

(“What part?”)

“The section about adaptive boundaries. It’s about how communities rebuild after urban decline—but there’s not much updated data, or local studies to reference.”

“I need an expert opinion..” 

She murmured.

She sighed, rubbing her temple. 

“Maybe I should email my supervisor again.”

He watched the furrow in her brow deepen, the way she paused to retype a sentence, delete it, then start again.

「まだ詰まってる？」

(“Still stuck?”) 

He asked after a while.

“Mm.” 

Her eyes stayed on the screen. 

“This section isn’t making sense. I’m trying to relate the urban boundary theory to actual cities, but—”

She stopped, rubbing her forehead. 

“There’s not enough current data… or maybe I’m missing the point entirely.”

Ren leaned his elbows on the table, watching her with a thoughtful hum.

「朝からずっとやってるじゃないか。」

(“You’ve been at it since morning,”) 

He said.

「少し休んだほうがいい。」

(“Maybe you need a break.”)

“I can’t.” 

She said quickly. 

“If I stop now, I’ll lose my train of thought.”

He smiled faintly. 

「そもそも、本当に電車あるの？」

(“You sure you have a train to begin with?”)

Arin shot him a flat look, but her lips twitched. 

“You’re not helping.”

「はい、はい、」

(“Okay, okay,”) 

He said, pretending to think deeply. Then, in a tone too casual to be serious.

「じゃあ、京都に行こう。」

(“Then let’s go to Kyoto.”)

Arin blinked. 

“...What?”

「京都」

(“Kyoto,”) 

He repeated, shrugging as if it were the most obvious solution in the world. 

「街とか、境界とか、古い建物と新しい建物——論文の題材にぴったりだろ。」

(“Might give you some perspective. Cities, boundaries, old and new structures—perfect for your paper.”)

She stared at him for a few seconds before letting out a quiet laugh. 

“Right. And let me guess—you’ll be my tour guide?”

「もちろん。」

(“Of course,”) 

He said easily. 

“Five-star service. Historic architecture, good food, and emotional support included.”

“Emotional support?” 

She raised an eyebrow, trying to hide her smile. 

“Sounds more like a date than research.”

He tilted his head, pretending to consider. 

「研究だって、見方によっちゃロマンチックだぞ。」

(“Well, research can be romantic if you squint hard enough.”)

Arin sighed, but the laugh that slipped out betrayed her. 

“You’re not helping at all.”

「どうも。」

(“Thank you.”) 

He said smoothly.

She shook her head, turning back to the laptop. 

“You’re not actually serious, right? You just want an excuse to skip classes.”

「おい、私はちゃんと責任感あるんだぞ。」

(“Hey, I take my responsibilities seriously.”) 

Ren added, while puffing his cheek slightly.

“Mm-hmm,” 

She said without looking up.

He hesitated for a moment, then added, his tone shifting just slightly—softer, more real.

「…ほんとに、冗談じゃなかったんだ。」

(“Actually… I wasn’t joking.”)

That made her look up.

Ren rubbed the back of his neck, glancing toward the window as if gathering his thoughts.

“My mom. She’s a professor—urban sociology. She worked on population migration models a few years back.”

He looked back at her, eyes meeting hers.

「うちの母さんにそのテーマ聞いてみれば？ きっと食いついてくるよ。」

(“You could ask her about your topic. She’ll probably love it.”)

Arin stared at him.

 “You’re joking.”

「いや、冗談じゃないよ。」

(“I’m not,”) 

He said, grabbing his phone. 

「こわいときもあるけどさ、街の話になると人より生き生きしてるから。大丈夫だって。」

(“I mean, she’s scary sometimes, but she loves talking about cities more than people. You’ll be fine.”)

The surprise in Arin’s face softened into something thoughtful.

“Oh..” 

She said quietly. 

“You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” 

He said, smiling faintly. 

「ただ、覚悟しとけよ。君の指導教員より怖いかも。」

(“Though, fair warning, she’s even scarier than your supervisor.”)

Arin laughed, the sound light but genuine. 

“You make that sound so reassuring.”

「まあでも、私が間に入るから安心しろ。」

(“Hey, at least you’ll have me as a buffer.”)

“Oh, so now you’re my bodyguard and my research assistant?” 

Arin teased lightly.

“Exactly. It’s a full-service plan.” 

Ren added.

She rolled her eyes, but there was warmth in the gesture. 

“You seriously..”

Ren grinned, leaning forward slightly. 

「で、考えてるってこと？」

(“So,—you’re considering it?”)

Her gaze lingered on him for a moment longer than she intended.

Then, with a soft exhale, she said, 

“…Maybe.”

Ren’s smile widened—quiet, satisfied. 

「じゃあ、決まりだな。京都にしよう。」

(“Then it’s settled. Kyoto it is.”)

Arin shook her head, trying to look unimpressed. 

“You really don’t take no for an answer, do you?”

That earned him a small laugh. 

「“ダメ”ってわけじゃないの、わかってるから。」

(“Not when I know it’s not a real no.”)

“That’s… surprisingly convenient.” 

Arin muttered, almost to herself.

「だろ？ ほら、私と一緒の旅も悪くないだろ。」

(“Right? See? Traveling with me might not be such a bad idea.”) 

He smirked.

“Who said I’m traveling with you?” 

She countered, but there was no bite in her tone.

Ren placed a hand dramatically over his heart. 

「ひどいな。学問的救いを申し出てるのに、拒絶されるなんて。最近は英語と優しさが怖がられるのか。」

(“Ouch. I offer academic salvation and get rejection. My English and my kindness scare people now.”)

Arin rolled her eyes, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

“You just want an excuse to have fun, don’t you?”

He leaned closer, lowering his voice with mock seriousness.

「そうかもね。…でも、ただ見てみたいんだ。京都がまだ同じに感じるかどうか。今度は、あなたがいる京都で。」

(“Maybe. Or maybe I just want to see if Kyoto still feels the same—this time, with you there.”)

Ren grinned, triumphant. 

「京都、行くぞ。」

(“Kyoto, we're coming.")

She shook her head, turning back to her laptop—but her hands hovered over the keyboard, the words from before suddenly harder to focus on.

The room felt lighter now.

Different.

The surrounding fell back into an easy stillness—sunlight spilling across the table, the cursor blinking on her half-written draft, and the soft sound of their laughter still hanging in the air.