The afternoon heat turned the air in the room thick and stagnant, the kind of heavy warmth that made every movement feel like an effort. 

Nagi was sprawled out on his back, his head hanging slightly off the edge of the mattress as he held his phone up toward the ceiling.

It had been a week of this. 

The initial rush of freedom had flattened into a dull, repetitive loop. His thumb moved with mechanical precision, flicking upward over and over as he scrolled through an endless stream of nothing. He passed by grainy photos of someone’s lunch, a video of a cat failing a jump, and a long-winded thread about a movie he’d already seen.

He didn't click on anything. He didn't like or comment. He just watched the blue light of the screen wash over his face, his eyes tracking the movement of the text until it blurred into a grey smudge.

Eventually, the phone felt heavy in his hand. His arm was starting to go numb from the awkward angle, and the back of his neck ached against the edge of the bed. He let out a short, hollow exhale—not quite a sigh, just a release of breath—and pressed the power button.

The screen went black, leaving him staring at his own faint reflection in the dark glass. He let the phone thud onto his chest and just lay there, listening to the muffled drone of a distant lawnmower and the stillness of the dojo.

The silence of the room finally became too heavy to bear. 

Nagi sat up slowly, waiting for the blood to stop rushing to his head before sliding off the bed. His feet hit the wooden floor with a dull thud, and he navigated the hallway toward the living area, the floorboards creaking familiar greetings under his weight.

The dojo’s living quarters felt even hotter than his bedroom. 

In the center of the room, his grandfather sat on a cushion, a small battery-powered fan oscillating nearby. He looked up from his newspaper as Nagi entered, offering a small, observant nod.

"Restless?" Gramps asked, his voice quiet but steady. He reached onto the low table and slid a handwritten list toward the edge. "Since you’re looking for something to do, I could use some help with the shopping."

Nagi picked up the paper, his eyes tracing the familiar, neat handwriting.

"I need you to head down to the market," his grandfather continued, resting the paper in his lap. "Try to find some good beef for tonight. I’m going to try making that stew your grandmother used to love, the one with the heavy broth. I'd like to get the recipe right this time."

He placed a small envelope of cash on the table next to the list.

"Take your time. The fresh air will be a nice change from that screen you've been staring at. Just try to get back before the evening heat sets in."

Nagi picked up the money and the list, feeling a slight shift in his mood. It wasn't just a chore; it felt like a small way to help keep the house going.

"I'll find the best cut they have," Nagi said, folding the paper into his pocket. "Beef and groceries. I'm on it."

"Thank you, Nagi," Gramps replied, returning his attention to the news with a faint, appreciative smile. "That would be a big help." 

Nagi stepped out into the heavy afternoon air, the grocery list tucked deep into his pocket. The neighborhood was quiet, caught in that mid-summer lull where even the wind seemed too tired to blow. 

He walked with a steady, rhythmic pace, his mind drifting toward the shopping list and the specific cut of beef his grandfather had requested.

The weight of the last week—the boredom, the scrolling, the stagnant heat—slowly began to lift as the movement grounded him. He reached the edge of the local park a few streets away, the tall trees casting long, jagged shadows across the sidewalk. 

He was lost in a mental inventory of the pantry when the world suddenly narrowed.

"Long time no see, Asahina-kun."

The voice didn't just drift through the air; it vibrated right against the shell of his ear. It was so close he could feel the faint, warm brush of a breath against his skin.

Nagi flinched, his heart hammering against his ribs as he nearly stumbled off the curb. He spun around, eyes wide, to find Kaori standing right in his space.

She looked entirely different away from the rigid structure of Kasumigaoka. She was wearing a massive, oversized white T-shirt that hung loosely off her frame, the hem falling so low it swallowed more than half of her dark athletic shorts. 

The casual look, combined with her lavender-brown hair tied up in a messy, practical bun, made the usually sharp and disciplined girl look surprisingly soft in the hazy park light.  

Nagi stood there for a beat too long, his eyes traveling over her casual attire. The lived-in cotton of her shirt and the loose strands of hair framing her face gave her an approachable warmth he wasn't used to.

‘Cute…’

The thought flashed through his mind like a lightning strike. His eyes widened slightly, and he immediately felt a surge of heat bloom across his face.

‘What is wrong with you? Get it together,’ he scolded himself mentally, forcing his gaze back up to her eyes before he could look any more awkward.

"M-Mizuhara-san," he managed, his voice a little rougher than usual as he regained his balance. "You nearly gave me a heart attack. What are you doing out here?"

Kaori tilted her head, a playful, knowing glint in her eyes. "Just heading to the store, Mom asked me to buy some groceries."

Nagi cleared his throat, trying to shake the lingering feeling of her breath against his ear. He looked around at the familiar trees and the layout of the streets. "Do you live around here? I didn't think you'd be in this neighborhood."

"I do," she replied, gesturing vaguely toward the row of houses lined up behind the greenery. "I live on the street right next to the park. It’s only a few minutes from here."

Kaori shifted her weight, the oversized fabric of her shirt catching the light breeze. "Anyway," she said, her tone softening as she looked him over. "Where are you headed, Asahina-kun? You look like a man on a mission."

Nagi reached into his pocket and brushed his fingers against the crinkled paper list, still trying to process the fact that the girl who usually dominated his study sessions lived just around the corner. "Just the market. My grandfather needs some specific stuff for dinner, beef, mostly."

Kaori’s eyebrows shot up, a small smile playing on her lips. "No way. I was heading to the same place to pick up some things for my parents."

She took a half-step closer, tilting her head toward the path that led out of the park. "Since we’re both headed for the same freezer section, why don't we go together? It’ll be less boring than walking in the heat alone."

Nagi hesitated for a split second, the mental image of him and the sharp-tongued Kaori Mizuhara navigating a grocery store together feeling strangely like a new kind of experience.

"Sure," he finally replied, falling into step beside her. "I guess I could use a second opinion on the beef. Gramps is pretty picky about the cut."

"Lucky for you," Kaori teased, her shoulder nearly brushing his as they started walking, "I’m an expert on high standards."

The walk to the market was shorter than Nagi expected, mostly because Kaori filled the silence with sharp observations about the summer heat and a few lingering complaints about Hayato’s incessant group chat notifications. 

Despite the casual setting, she walked with a certain grace, her oversized T-shirt swaying with every step as they navigated the shimmering heat of the sidewalk.

They reached the automatic sliding doors of the local supermarket, a blast of artificial, refrigerated air greeting them like a sanctuary. 

Nagi felt his muscles relax instantly as the temperature dropped, but as he reached for a shopping basket, Kaori suddenly came to a halt.

"Kaori-chan? Is that really you?"

A girl standing near the fruit display turned around, clutching a plastic bag of lemons. She was a classmate from their year, a girl named Fujiwara Miho who had long blonde hair and orange eyes; she usually sat near the window at the front. Her eyes went wide as she looked from Kaori’s messy bun and casual attire to Nagi standing a foot behind her awkwardly.

"Wait, Asahina-kun too?" Miho’s voice rose an octave, her gaze darting between the two of them with a mixture of confusion and sudden, intense curiosity. "What are you two doing here together? On a Tuesday afternoon? Don’t tell me I missed a major plot development!" She grinned.

Kaori froze, her playful confidence momentarily replaced by a flicker of startle as the grocery run suddenly felt a lot more complicated. 

"It's not a 'plot development,' Miho! It's–it's a coincidence!" Kaori blurted out, her voice slightly higher than usual. 

She stepped forward, her hands waving dismissively as if she could physically push away the heavy air of gossip already forming around them. "We just happened to run into each other at the park. My house is right there, and he was... well, he was just walking."

Kaori looked back at Nagi, her eyes practically screaming at him to provide some backup, some logical explanation that would satisfy Miho’s predatory curiosity.

Nagi, however, remained a pillar of unbothered stillness. He didn't flinch, didn't stammer, and didn't even look away from the vegetable aisle. He simply stood there with a blank, neutral expression, the shopping basket hanging loosely from his hand.

"Yeah," Nagi said.

That was it. One word. No elaboration, no defense, just a flat acknowledgment of her frantic explanation.

‘That is not helping at all!!’ Kaori screamed internally, her grip tightening on the hem of her oversized T-shirt. She could feel Miho’s gaze boring holes into them, and Nagi’s monosyllabic response was only making them look more suspicious.

Nagi, meanwhile, was having a minor internal crisis of his own. ‘First Hayato, then Mizuhara, now Fujiwara?’ he thought, his gaze drifting toward the frozen peas. ‘Do all of my classmates live in this neighborhood or something? Is the entire school district just centered around this one grocery store?’

Miho’s eyes narrowed, her grin turning sharp and predatory as she leaned in closer, looking between Kaori’s flushed face and Nagi’s stoic indifference. The logic didn't add up, and she wasn't about to let them off the hook.

"Riiiight," Miho drawled, her voice dripping with a thick, syrupy skepticism that made the air between them feel even heavier. "A coincidence. In the middle of summer. Near your house, while you're dressed like that. Just tell me the truth already…"

She leaned in, her eyes gleaming with the predatory intensity of someone who had just uncovered a state secret, her gaze darting between them as if looking for the slightest crack in their story.

"Are you two dating?!"

The words didn’t just land—they detonated. The constant, mechanical hum of the nearby refrigerators seemed to cut out for a split second, leaving the entire aisle to collapse into a suffocating vacuum of silence.

Kaori’s entire body locked up, her shoulders hunching as her composure completely disintegrated. A violent shade of crimson erupted across her face, the heat flooding from her neck all the way to the tips of her ears. Her hands shot up instinctively, her fingers splaying out in front of her chest as if she could physically block the accusation from existing in the air.

"Wha—?! D-Dating?! Are you insane?!" she sputtered, her voice cracking into a high-pitched frantic mess. She began to wave her hands back and forth in a blurry, desperate arc. "W-why would you even—?!"

Beside her, Nagi felt his brain short-circuit. The very concept of dating Mizuhara collided with his logic in a way that left him reeling. His ears turned a slight shade of red.

"…No," he managed to say, though the word felt heavy and clumsy in his mouth.

There was a pregnant beat of silence. Then, his voice wavering with a sudden, betraying uncertainty, he added, "We’re not."

That sounded incredibly suspicious, he thought, his heart thumping a frantic rhythm against his ribs.

Miho’s grin widened into something truly feral. She clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes crinkling with pure, unadulterated delight as she watched the two of them flounder.

"Ohhh, this is bad," she whispered, her voice vibrating with excitement. "You two didn’t even deny it at the same time. The timing was all off!"

Kaori snapped her head toward Nagi, her eyes blazing with a mixture of embarrassment and indignation. Her messy bun shook with the force of her movement. "Say it properly!" she hissed, her face still glowing a bright, unmistakable pink.

"I did," Nagi countered, his voice returning to a low, monotone register even as the blush remained fixed on his cheeks.

"No, you didn't! That sounded like a confession with a disclaimer!" Kaori shot back, her chest heaving as she tried to reclaim some shred of her usual authority.

"How do you want me to structure it?" Nagi asked, his posture stiffening as he tried to hide behind his usual stoicism. "Subject, verb, emotional clarity? I thought I was being direct."

"This is not an English exam, Asahina-kun!" Kaori shrieked, her voice echoing slightly off the tiled floor.

Miho stood back, clasping her hands together as if watching a particularly juicy climax of a drama. She was practically vibrating with the potential of the situation. "This is so happening," she murmured under her breath, already reaching for her phone in her pocket. "This is definitely happening."