Her eyes lit up. “You’ve been to Tokyo? That’s, like, my dream.”
“Oh, yeah, you’ve got to go there one day,” he said, voice low but hopeful. “The whole city had these billboards everywhere, like huge. I had no idea who the characters were, but I learned quick.”
“Do you knowDemon Slayer?” Yana asked with eyes that glistened bright.
“YouknowDemon Slayer?” he replied. “That’s top-tier anime right there. Good taste.”
From the doorway, Love watched with her arms folded with a small smile forming.
“You know,” Yana added, “I really liked one of your older songs. It was my favorite for, like, months.”
Zay blinked. “Seriously? Which one?”
“I think it’s called Love Language? The one with Tiara singing the hook.”
His jaw softened. “Damn, that one is old. That was a personal one.”
“It felt personal. I think that’s what I liked most about it.”
“So, you like music?”
“I guess you can say that.” She shrugged. “I write sometimes. Nothing serious.”
His whole face brightened. “No way. You write songs?”
“Yeah. Just for fun.”
“Maybe we should change that.” He grinned.
A pause settled between them, but it wasn’t awkward this time; it was warm and curious. The kind that made space for something new to grow.
Zay glanced around and took in the space. He rubbed the back of his neck, nervous about what to say next. He quickly came up with something quick. “You got any favorite movies?”
Yana perked up. “Are you kidding? I could list like fifty.”
That broke the ice wide open.
What started as a shy exchange turned into an easy current they both fell into. They talked about anime and argued over which was overrated. Yana insistedDemon Slayerhad better animation thanAttack on Titan. Zay scoffed, called it blasphemy, and she rolled her eyes like she’d known him her whole life. They hadn’t even noticed when Love left the doorway until she walked in with a bowl of popcorn and a teasing look. “If y’all are gonna argue anime rankings, at least do it over snacks.”
That led to video games. Zay picked up a controller like he knew what he was doing—only to get dragged, round after round, by Yana. She barely looked up from the screen, her face lit by the flashing colors of Mario Kart, fingers moving fast and precise.
“You lettin’ her win?” Love asked from the couch.
“I wish,” Zay muttered, grinning.
Laughter spilled through the house like sunlight through open windows. They paused long enough to scroll through streaming apps, settle on an old, animated movie they both loved, and piled onto the couch on opposite sides of Love. Yana sat with her legs tucked under her, Zay stretched out with a blanket over his lap, while Love sat nestled between them with the comfort of someone who had waited years to exhale.
For a while, the past didn’t matter, and the future felt wide open.
When the credits of a third movie rolled, Yana was sound asleep on the couch, her head resting against a throw pillow, half-wrapped in the blanket that Zay placed over her.
He stood up slowly, careful not to wake her. He looked at her for a long moment, memorizing the curve of her cheek, the way her lashes curled against her skin, details he’d never had the chance to watch grow over time.
He rose and gently folded the edge of the blanket around her shoulders. Then he glanced over at Love, who had gotten up a while ago and was in the kitchen, running water from the sink.
He walked into the room, following the sounds of the water splashing. She glanced up at him and smiled when he came closer.
“It’s getting late,” he said, voice low. “I should head out.”
