For a while, neither of them moved.
The room had grown dimmer without them noticing. The last of the sunlight stretched thin across the floor before slowly fading into the corners.
Caelum shifted on the couch.
"…I'm hungry."
Amoriel turned slightly.
"You said that earlier."
"Did I."
"You implied it."
"…Yeah, that sounds like me."
He pushed himself up with a quiet sigh and stretched his arms.
"I'm going to make something."
Amoriel watched him for a second, then nodded.
"Alright."
He walked toward the kitchen without waiting.
Familiar steps.
Nothing he needed to think about.
—
Amoriel stayed behind.
For a moment, she simply sat there, her gaze moving slowly across the room.
The table.
The shelves.
The small things that didn't stand out at first, but stayed if you looked long enough.
Quiet.
Not empty.
Just… lived in.
She rested her chin lightly against her hand.
"…If I forget this later…"
The thought came without effort.
"…then I won't be able to compare."
A short pause.
Then she straightened slightly.
"…I should write it down."
She looked at her hand for a moment, like she was deciding something.
Then—
A faint flicker passed through her fingers.
A pen appeared.
She looked at it, turning it once.
"…That works."
She stood and walked toward the kitchen.
—
Caelum had just set a pot on the stove when he noticed her.
She was already sitting at the dining table.
Pen in hand.
Writing.
He paused.
"…What are you doing."
Amoriel didn't stop.
"I'm writing."
"…I can see that. Why."
"So I don't forget."
He leaned lightly against the counter.
"…A diary?"
"Yes."
"That's new."
"It seemed necessary."
He let out a small breath and turned back to what he was doing.
"…Alright."
The sound of water running filled the space for a moment.
Behind him, the soft scratch of pen against paper continued.
Then—
"Caelum."
"…What."
She glanced up.
"We're in Japan, right?"
He paused for half a second.
"…Yeah."
She nodded and wrote it down.
"Which city."
"…Tokyo."
"You live here your whole life?"
"Yeah."
She wrote again.
"Do people usually live alone like you."
He glanced back.
"…Not usually."
"I see."
More writing.
He shook his head lightly and continued.
"Why are you asking all that."
"So I understand properly."
"That sounds like a report."
"It's a diary."
"Those are different things."
She didn't argue.
Just kept writing.
A quiet moment passed.
Then she spoke again.
"What kind of area is this."
He thought for a second.
"…Just a normal residential neighborhood."
"Quiet."
"Most of the time."
She nodded, writing that down as well.
"People seem… careful."
"…Careful?"
"They keep distance."
He shrugged slightly.
"Yeah. That's normal here."
"I noticed."
Another line added to the page.
She paused briefly, then looked up again.
"Four seasons?"
"…Yeah."
"Current season."
"Spring."
She wrote that too, her pen moving steadily.
Caelum let out a small breath.
"…You're really serious about this."
She looked at him.
"If I don't record it, I might miss something."
"…You're not wrong."
A faint sound rose from the pot as the water began to heat.
The room slowly filled with a soft, familiar warmth.
Amoriel's attention shifted.
"…It smells different."
"Because I'm cooking."
"I am aware."
"Good."
She stood up and walked closer.
Again.
Too close.
He didn't even react immediately this time.
"You're in the way."
"I want to see."
"You can see from there."
"There are more details here."
"…Of course there are."
She leaned slightly, watching his hands.
"How do you know when it's ready."
"You just get used to it."
"That is not a clear method."
"It works."
She accepted that.
For now.
After a moment, she stepped back on her own.
Just enough.
When everything was ready, Caelum placed the food onto two plates and set them on the table.
"Here."
Amoriel returned to her seat.
He sat across from her.
For a second, neither of them moved.
Then she picked up her utensil.
"…I can start?"
"Yeah."
She took a bite.
Paused.
"…It's warm."
"That's usually how food works."
She ignored that.
"…It's good."
He blinked once.
"…Thanks."
She nodded slightly and continued eating.
The room settled into a quiet rhythm.
Simple.
Calm.
Then—
"Caelum."
He looked up briefly.
"…What."
"Is eating together important."
He thought about it for a moment.
"…Depends."
"On what."
"…The person, I guess."
She considered that.
Then nodded.
"I understand."
A short silence followed.
Then she spoke again.
"The girl from earlier."
He sighed.
"…We're back to that."
"I am comparing."
"…Go ahead."
"Would she react differently here."
He looked down at his food.
"…Probably."
"In what way."
"…I don't know. Less quiet, maybe."
"I see."
She reached for her pen again and wrote something down.
He watched her for a second.
"…You're even writing during dinner."
"I might forget later."
"…Right."
They finished eating not long after.
Caelum leaned back slightly, letting out a small breath.
Amoriel closed her notebook and set the pen down.
"Done."
"…You're treating this seriously."
"Yes."
"…I can tell."
The room had grown darker now.
The last light from outside had faded, leaving only the soft glow from inside.
Amoriel looked around once more.
Then back at him.
"Caelum."
"…Yeah."
A small pause.
Then—
"Where should I stay."
He froze.
"…What."
She looked at him, expression unchanged.
"I don't have a place yet."
He stared at her for a moment.
Right.
He hadn't thought about that.
"…You're serious."
"Yes."
He rubbed the back of his neck, already feeling tired again.
"…We'll figure something out."
"I understand."
She accepted it without question.
Too easily.
Caelum let out a quiet breath.
"…This is going to be a problem."
Amoriel tilted her head slightly.
"I don't see the problem."
"…Yeah."
He leaned back in his chair.
"That's exactly it."
The night settled in around them.
Quiet.
Steady.
And somehow—
A lot more complicated than it had been that morning.