Date and Stalking (7)
Shin Tae-il took a brief trip back in time. To their childhood.
Ayane had a few habits that even Tae-il found troublesome. One, she clung to him at every opportunity. Two, she planted kisses on him. Back then, Ayane stuck to Tae-il like a piece of gum.
The adults watched the two of them with fond smiles, calling them an adorable couple. But kids their age reacted differently. For children whose values hadn't fully formed yet, love and romance were awkward emotions—something gross and embarrassing.
At that age, kids got teased just for holding hands. Ayane was no exception. The difference was that she'd been ostracized from the start, so she had even less hesitation. She launched surprise kisses at Tae-il whenever she got the chance.
Of course, Ayane's kisses weren't lip-to-lip—they were strictly on the cheek or similar spots. Tae-il was troubled, but if he tried to stop her, she'd look at him like she was about to burst into tears, so he had no choice but to let it slide.
Their relationship had been steadily building a moat around itself from outsiders since early childhood. By upper elementary school, with sex ed classes starting up, Ayane's physical affection toned down a bit—but she still clung to him whenever she could.
Which is why, when his lips brushed Sakuya's, Tae-il completely froze.
"M-m-m-m-m-mi... s-s-sorry...."
He stuttered an apology without thinking, even though it was her action that had caused their lips to touch.
"Shh."
Sakuya lightly pressed her index finger to Tae-il's lips to silence him. And then, the finger that had covered his lips now touched her own. Just like Tae-il had done to her on the final day of Interhigh.
Sakuya winked cutely. Unlike his, it was irresistibly charming. She whispered,
"Our little secret?"
Tae-il nodded like an idiot.
It was 2 p.m. Checking the time, Sakuya asked in a sweet, honeyed voice, soft and coaxing.
"Want one more bite?"
Her teaspoon pointed at the parfait, then dipped between her lips. Tae-il frantically shook his head side to side.
Double entendre. His instincts warned him that either interpretation spelled disaster, so that's the choice he made.
Sakuya covered her mouth with her hand at his fervent refusal. The smile in her eyes deepened above her palm.
"Ahaha! Fine. It was just a graze anyway. So... how'd it feel to claim Sakuraba Sakuya's first kiss?"
"...Do I have to answer?"
"Not right now. I wasn't satisfied either."
Tae-il flinched. She wasn't satisfied with just a lip graze?
He shuddered watching Sakuya lick her thumb and lips. He'd felt it during Interhigh, but if he had to compare her to something, Sakuya was like a carnivorous predator. Predators hunted smart. And once they sank their fangs into prey—even just once—they tracked the scent of blood relentlessly, never letting go.
"What a shame. It's really good. Right?"
"W-Well...."
Sakuya shot him a sidelong glance with half-lidded eyes. She tilted the glass of parfait—now half-melted into a shake-like slurry mixed with fruit—to her lips, and thick white foam trickled down from the corner of her mouth.
Without thinking, Tae-il reached out and wiped away the melting parfait threatening to drip below her chin. The sticky yet cool sensation on his thumb tickled like ants crawling.
"Here."
As Tae-il stared blankly at his thumb and her lips, Sakuya leaned in closer, offering her mouth and chin.
"Don't just wipe my chin—get my lips too. Can't you?"
"C-Come on...."
At his weak protest, Sakuya grabbed his retreating thumb and forced it across her lips to clean off the parfait traces. Then she slowly licked it.
Her violet eyes gleamed at him with serpentine allure.
"Hehe. Next time, I'll make it stickier?"
"You're killing me...."
Was she saying it'd feel so good he'd die happy? Or that it'd arouse him to cardiac arrest? Either way, it was a thrilling fantasy that set his heart racing.
Sakuya's shoulders shook.
"Hmm. Depends on how you perform, Tae-il?"
"I'll... do my best...."
As she released his hand, Tae-il slumped against the wall like he'd collapsed. Sakuya propped her chin on the table, gazing at him with affectionate eyes, as if he were utterly adorable.
He's weak to this.
Tae-il seemed so used to girls thanks to Ayane, but he was pathetically vulnerable to this kind of pull.
'It's different from just indulging her whims, huh?'
Indeed, the biggest obstacle blocking her path ahead wasn't Ayane—it was Iris.
Sakuya grabbed her handbag and stood.
"Gonna wash my hands. We'll head straight to the theater when I get back?"
"Yeah...."
Tae-il needed a moment to calm down too. They had plenty of time today. Once Sakuya joined the band later, chances like this wouldn't come around for a while.
So he should savor it to the fullest—make memories so deep that he would be the one feeling regret and suggesting another date first, forgetting the world around them.
In front of the bathroom mirror, Sakuya splashed cold water on her flushed face. Her makeup smeared, but she kept going anyway. Her cheeks were still red. She'd bolted out in a hurry because even she was reaching her limit pretending to be cool.
"Hoo."
Sakuya checked her reflection and let out a deep sigh. She pressed her palms firmly against her stinging cheeks, rubbing them.
"Seriously...."
She'd done way too many uncharacteristic things today. If her sports club seniors or friends saw her like this, she'd be teased for life.
"But still...."
A girl in love has to be bold. Sakuya steeled herself, recalling all those heroines from manga and light novels who seduced oblivious protagonists. She clenched her fists at her chest.
"Alright. I can do this. Yah!"
First, fix the ruined makeup. She skillfully reapplied lipstick and softened her sharp features. Back in the day, she'd recoiled at her cousin's claim that "girls look better with makeup!" insisting she didn't need it. Now, she was grateful. Those half-forced makeup lessons had all been for today.
Sakuya admired her finished look in the mirror.
"Fighting."
She left the bathroom, sending an encouraging message to her reflection. Far off, she spotted Tae-il. He'd calmed down somewhat, leaning back with eyes closed, tapping his interlocked thumbs together.
Sakuya sneakily checked her makeup with her phone's selfie cam and nodded.
"Okay."
Perfect in the mirror and the selfie. Steel your courage. She stepped forward.
The date was just getting started.
The tailing was going smoothly. Hiding suspiciously behind a signboard, Yuuya and Ayane watched with their own eyes as Sakuya and Tae-il entered the large theater.
"Movie theater, huh?"
"Movie...."
Yuuya quickly pulled out her smartphone to check today's screenings. Narrowing it down by showtimes, she got three possibilities.
"Blade of Flames: The Movie, one American action flick, and a horror one...?"
"Then they're probably seeing the American action movie!"
"Why?"
Yuuya tilted her head at Ayane's confident declaration. Weren't couples supposed to pick romances or horrors?
Ayane tsked at Yuuya's simplistic reasoning, wagging her finger. It felt belittling, and it pissed her off.
"You wouldn't get it, senpai, but Shin-chi has zero horror tolerance! Even in front of Ayane, he jumps and clings if something scary pops up!"
One of the rare times he openly acted spoiled, Ayane boasted proudly.
"Shin-chi never watches horror movies. He turns into a total kid in front of real ones. Last year, even Ayane suggested watching together and got shot down right away."
No way Sakuya could handle it if I couldn't.
Yuuya heard the implication in Ayane's smug words.
"Hmm."
Yuuya still leaned toward horror. Sakuya was famous. Too famous—even Yuuya had some impression of the underclassman. Confident in everything, full of challenge spirit, sociable to a fault—the kind of heroine every girl admired.
"Of course she'd like it...."
Outwardly extroverted, she seemed the type for high-speed, pulse-pounding Hollywood thrills. It made sense. But love wasn't that simple.
What if she were Sakuya?
'I'd want to show Taichi a fragile side no one else sees.'
Gap moe was key in romance, or so the dating expert YouTube channel said—the one Tae-il had told her to unsubscribe from.
"Sakuraba's gap moe...."
Screaming in terror during a horror flick, naturally leading to skinship. Classic, but famously effective.
"No. Katsuragi. It's gotta be the horror...."
"Just booked tickets. Lucky—the back row's totally empty. Hurry, senpai."
"...."
Ayane urged her on. Yuuya hung her head.
'We're screwed....'
She and Katsuragi Ayane just... didn't mesh. At all.
Sakuya glanced around the eerily empty theater, intrigued by the lack of patrons.
"Weekday, maybe? Barely anyone's here...."
"Y-Yeah...."
"So... we could get away with sneaky naughty stuff?"
Sakuya covered her mouth, grinning slyly. Tae-il straightened up seriously.
"Since no one's around, maybe we should sit apart?"
"Ah, sorry! I won't!"
Sakuya apologized and snuggled in. The soft give of her arm against his made Tae-il duck his head, silently clutching the popcorn and cola.
As per her request, they'd ordered couple-sized ones. Two straws. The cashier's jealous glare had amused Sakuya enough to amp up the PDA even more.
I'm dizzy....
Tae-il had once grumbled like an old man at overly affectionate street couples. Now he was the eye-sore drawing glares. Thrilled? Not sure. Mortified to death? Definitely.
'And of all movies, she picks a horror....'
Online reviews for their film were gold. Among horrors in the last five years, this one's scare factor was "all-time top-tier," per insiders—stuck in his mind.
"Haa. Let's see... Row H. H is around..."
"Here."
Sakuya led him to the assigned seats. Smack in the middle, the screen filled their view.
'Ah, bad choice.'
He cursed his past self—should've booked farther back. Tae-il regretted it.
"Oh! Armrest lifts up here?"
She raised it. No more center console for drinks and popcorn. Instead, she hugged his arm and leaned on his shoulder.
Tae-il tensed.
"Directed with a collab from that Thai horror master. Should be awesome, right?"
"Ah, ahaha...."
Tae-il forced an awkward smile, hiding his dread. He couldn't agree "awesome" while she sparkled with excitement. Thai horror legend collab? Thailand drew the line for Asian scares—eerie, grotesque, masterful.
Gulp.
Tae-il steadied his trembling hands.
"Ah, starting soon. Just us in here? I can scream my lungs out!"
"Y-Yeah. Lucky."
Tae-il agreed enthusiastically. Empty theater was a godsend. Once it started, he'd probably scream himself hoarse anyway.
"What, so many people on a weekday? Everyone unemployed or something?"
"Yeah...."
Yuuya nodded along, fully adapted to Ayane's speech. Her response lacked soul. Ayane didn't mind. She scanned the seats below, craning her neck.
Late entry? They'd snagged the back row luckily, but the dark theater hid Tae-il and Sakuya completely. Sakuya's distinctive hair should've stood out—nope.
After scanning forever, Ayane shrugged and leaned back to rest. Utterly calm, convinced Tae-il was here somewhere.
"Whatever. With this crowd, even Sakuraba can't pull any funny business. Safe!"
"F-Funny business...?"
"You know, thin books. Oh, senpai probably doesn't."
"D-Don't...."
Yuuya blushed and bowed her head. She'd been antsy thinking this wasn't the spot. Ayane's blunt, fox-free chatter now embarrassed her to death.
"Eee. Senpai, you look so pure. Never even held a guy's hand?"
"I-I have...."
"Not Shin-chi. Anyone else?"
"Th-There is."
"Not parents."
"Uh, no...."
"Pffft! Knew it. Me neither. We're comrades?"
"R-Really...?"
Yuuya tilted her head. Listening, it rang true. Bonding over something weird.
"Comrades. Fellow virgins deflowered by Shin-chi. Wait, phrasing's off?"
"Yeah. Way off...."
"Handshake comrades then. Cool?"
"If that's it...."
As they chatted, the screen lit up with safety instructions. The movie began. They focused ahead.
Inevitable. Ayane believed Tae-il and Sakuya were just lost in the crowd. Truly. She never dreamed—as Yuuya feared—they were in a different auditorium.