“The dough needs to be refrigerated for an hour.”
Qiluo wiped the flour off the counter with a rag, untied her apron, and hung it on the refrigerator door handle.
She closed the refrigerator door and turned around, only to find Rin still standing next to the counter.
Her gaze was fixed on the step-by-step checklist Yuki had handwritten on the refrigerator door, though she wasn't actually reading the words.
“Dr. Kurokawa.”
Rin looked up.
“Can you see really far from your balcony? Since the dough is still in the fridge, would you mind showing me around?”
Rin snapped out of it and nodded. She led her through the living room and slid open the glass door leading to the balcony.
The balcony was larger than Qiluo had expected, paved with dark gray non-slip tiles. The railing was made of matte black wrought iron in a minimalist horizontal pattern.
In the corner stood two wicker chairs with a small round table between them, upon which sat an extinguished scented candle.
Qiluo walked over to the railing and looked down. From the balcony, she could see the entirety of Tokyo.
She could even see Tokyo Tower directly.
The orderly rooftops and winding streets were bathed in a layer of pale gold by the afternoon sun.
Resting her hands on the railing, she took a deep breath of the sun-warmed air. Turning her head, she noticed that Rin hadn't walked over; instead, she was standing by one of the wicker chairs, looking hesitant to sit down.
“What's wrong? Aren't you going to sit?”
Qiluo sat down in one of the wicker chairs first. She looked up at Rin, her pupils widening slightly in an unconscious gaze.
Rin watched Qiluo look up at her from the wicker chair. The afternoon sun fell perfectly across Qiluo's shoulders, making the cuffs of her shirt look almost translucent.
She patted the seat of the other wicker chair, gesturing for Rin to join her.
“...Okay.” Rin sat down in the other wicker chair, her back perfectly straight, looking nothing like someone relaxing at home.
“Are you always this upright at home?” Qiluo asked, resting her chin on her hand as she watched her.
The sunlight illuminated Qiluo's eyes, revealing a hint of purple deep within her pupils.
That touch of purple was inexplicably captivating.
Rin shifted her gaze to the distant Tokyo Tower, which gleamed with a silvery sheen under the sun.
“...I'm used to it. My family had strict standards for standing and sitting postures when I was growing up. Over time, it just became impossible to break the habit.”
She wasn't lying, but she wasn't telling the whole truth either.
She didn't want to admit that her upright posture right now was half due to nervousness.
She felt that if she relaxed even a little, her body would betray her and speak words she shouldn't say.
Qiluo leaned back against the wicker chair, looking up at the sky.
“The view is wonderful. You can see Tokyo Tower, and you must be able to see the stars at night. The window at my place just faces the wall of the neighboring building, so I can only see a tiny patch of the sky.”
Rin pulled her gaze back from Tokyo Tower and turned her head to look at Qiluo.
The wind swept across the balcony, blowing a few stray strands of hair into her face. She raised her hand to tuck them behind her ear.
Rin suddenly realized she was staring again. She quickly shifted her eyes back to Tokyo Tower, her fingers tightening slightly on the armrest.
“Dr. Kurokawa?”
Qiluo noticed that although she had started a conversation, she hadn't received a reply.
Rin snapped out of her daze, realizing she had been silent for too long.
Qiluo was looking at her sideways, her eyes filled with inquiry.
Her words carried a hint of testing, her brow slightly furrowed, her eyes glistening.
It was as if, having received no answer, she thought she had said something wrong.
In reality, this was just the image Rin was imagining in her heart.
“N-No, it's nothing. I was just wondering... if you could stop calling me Dr. Kurokawa...”
Qiluo blinked, not saying anything.
She was waiting for Rin to explain why.
Rin realized her words had come out more directly than expected. But since she had already started, there was no turning back.
“This isn't the hospital. You call Yuki by her name, but you use my title. It makes me feel like I'm being excluded.”
She paused, hesitating whether to say it, but pushed through anyway. “If you're used to calling people 'older sister,' you can just call me Rin-jie.”
After saying this, she returned her gaze to Tokyo Tower. The red navigation light at the tip of the tower was blinking on and off.
The wicker chair beside her fell silent. She could feel Qiluo's eyes on her.
Why isn't she saying anything? Was I too forward? I'm starting to regret this...
Just as Rin was beginning to regret her words...
...Qiluo's voice drifted over, deliberately soft and laced with a smile. “Rin-jie.”
“...Yeah.”
“Rin-jie,” Qiluo repeated, her voice sounding much more natural this time. “What were you actually looking at just now? Was it Tokyo Tower, or that cloud in the distance?”
What was she looking at? In truth, she hadn't been looking at anything.
Tokyo Tower was merely a safe place to rest her eyes. She had simply been caught looking at Qiluo, so she had quickly found a sufficiently interesting distraction.
“...Yuki told me you like stargazing.”
Qiluo hadn't expected her to bring that up.
“Yuki even told you about that?”
“Yes, she said you know a lot about astronomy.” Rin let out a silent breath of relief, steering the conversation away.
“You can see much more clearly from here at night. The view is wide open. While it can't compare to the suburbs, you can still see quite a few stars on a clear night.”
“Is it really okay? Won't I be bothering you two if I come at night?” Qiluo sat up a bit straighter in her wicker chair, leaning forward slightly, her fingers resting on the armrests.
The posture made her look like a cat that had spotted some interesting prey, ears perked up, tail gently swaying behind her.
“No. Yuki is usually in her room reading at night, and our mother isn't home during this period anyway.”
Rin shifted her gaze to the balcony railing.
“Besides, Yuki said you like quiet. It's very quiet here at night—only the sound of the wind.”
Qiluo asked, both hesitant and expectant:
“Should we wait for Yuki to come back and ask her? After all, it is your family's balcony.”
“No need to ask her,” Rin answered quicker than Qiluo had expected.
She added another sentence, slowing down her pace as if trying to smooth over her previous eagerness.
“I mean, Yuki won't mind. You're her friend, and she mentioned she wanted you to visit more often. Plus, I'm always home, so you won't have to worry about no one opening the door.”
Though she was merely stating reasons, her tone grew increasingly hesitant.
The contrast between her blurting out her true thoughts just now and her current cautious attempts to cover it up was exactly like Yuki.
She clearly wanted Qiluo to come over, yet she insisted on using her sister as an excuse.
“Does Rin-jie usually watch the stars on the balcony at night too?”
“...Actually, very rarely. Since starting my residency, I haven't really looked at them.”
A lie. She had never watched them at all.
Rin turned her gaze toward Qiluo's chair.
She imagined what it would be like if someone were sitting here at night, just like today.
“But if I had someone with me, I'd probably stay out a bit longer. The view from the balcony is indeed very nice.”
Tokyo Tower still stood silently in the afternoon sun, completely deaf to her lies.
As the wind swept across the balcony, she caught the faint scents drifting from both herself and Qiluo, blending together.
The scent reminded her of that day at the hospital, inside the examination room, when she had smelled the exact same fragrance while standing so close to Qiluo.
It was just as intoxicating, making her want to take a deeper breath.
“Then... sorry for the intrusion.”
Rate on N.U.
