The evening sun cast golden streaks across the apartment walls, its warmth softening the silence that lingered between two people sitting on the couch. Or rather, one sitting, and the other comfortably perched on his lap.
Riku Kazehaya sat cross-legged, his arms draped loosely around Aika Hoshino, whose long legs were folded on either side of him. Her head rested against his shoulder, her breath slow and steady. At their feet, the faint breathing of Punch, their loyal American Spitz, filled the space with a strangely domestic rhythm.
Aika's fingers brushed his jawline, and she leaned in slightly.
"I've been thinking," she murmured. "That was… my first kiss."
Riku blinked. "Same."
Aika pulled back, eyes wide. "Wait, what? You? You're seriously telling me that was your first?"
Punch let out a small, sleepy woof as if voicing the disbelief for her.
Riku smirked and reached down, scratching behind the fluffy dog's ears. "Don't look at me like that, Punch."
Then, more softly: "I wasn't into that stuff. Middle school… I was chasing belts, not girls."
Aika stared at him in silence. "…You really were something. The featherweight champ. That knockout highlight they still replay on old boxing forums? You looked like a god back then."
Riku raised a brow. "Did someone stalk my highlight reels?"
She cleared her throat, face slightly flushed. "That's irrelevant."
Suddenly, a loud knock knock knock broke the moment.
Punch shot up with a bark, jumping down from the couch and planting himself between the couple and the front door like a fuzzy white wall of aggression.
Aika leaned over, whispering playfully, "It's okay, Punch. Probably another girl who wants to take your dad."
The door creaked open.
Standing there, sweat on her brow and hands in the pockets of her school track jacket, was Haruka Minami—tomboy, top athlete, and captain of the school's boxing club.
"Is Riku Kazehaya here?" she asked, scanning the room.
"He's right here," Aika said coolly, not budging from her seat on his lap.
Haruka tilted her head, narrowing her eyes. "You… You're the guy who knocked out Renji in one round, right? That counter… it was identical to the Ghost Style Switch move used by the national boxer Riku Kazehaya."
Aika smirked. "That's because he is that national boxer."
Haruka froze. "Wait—seriously?!"
"Yeah," Riku said with a shrug. "Name, face, fists. All me."
Haruka stared. "Can I… see your medals? Or maybe your belt?"
"They're in that room," he said, pointing.
The girl dashed in, emerging a minute later holding the featherweight championship belt with both hands like it was sacred.
Haruka's eyes gleamed. "You're a damn legend…"
Then, her eyes wandered up and down his physique.
"…Not to be weird, but can I see your core strength? I mean, your hoodie covers everything."
Riku paused. Aika gave him a deadly side glance.
Still, he obliged—pulling the hoodie over his head and revealing his chiseled frame beneath.
Haruka gulped. Then, like a boxing scout appraising a contender, she stepped forward, poked at his abs, dragged her fingers across his chest, then his back.
Punch barked sharply.
Haruka didn't flinch. "If you ever think about breaking up… just know I live alone too. Second floor. Same building."
Before Riku could respond, Aika's voice cut through the air like a dagger.
"No thank you. That won't be necessary."
Haruka blinked. "Was just saying—"
"Goodbye," Aika added, not smiling.
Haruka gave a short nod, returned the belt carefully to the shelf, and backed out of the apartment like she was in enemy territory.
Silence returned. Punch leapt back onto the couch and flopped beside Riku with a huff, like he'd just fended off a demon.
Aika slid her arms around Riku's neck and leaned her head against his. "Told you you're mine."
He chuckled. "You're scary sometimes, you know?"
"You love it." She kissed his cheek.
Punch barked in agreement—or perhaps demand.
"Fine," Aika sighed. She leaned down and gave the fluffball a kiss on the head.
Then, turning back to Riku…
"But you… you get the real ones."