The city streets were alive with the mellow hum of a late morning crowd, sunlight glinting off the cafe windows and pavement. Akio walked beside Aira who was animated as ever, recounting some half forgotten online review about the most recent vigilante sighting.
It had been about a week since the incident.
They had been eating dinner as usual, a few nights after it happened. Aira was awkwardly pushing food around her plate before abruptly blurting, “So, is that why you don’t want a girlfriend?”
Akio had nearly choked on his tea. It wasn’t that he blamed her; pretending to be romantically involved with Gabriel was a far safer lie than explaining that the two of them were the Dawn and Dusk Hounds. But still, the memory made something inside him quietly die.
Aira’s voice snapped him back to the present. She had stopped by the window of a small cafe, cupping her hands against the glass.
“Oh! We have to try this place,” she said, turning toward him with a grin. “I’ve heard insane things about it—the coffee, the tea, everything! It’s supposed to be, like, the best hidden gem in the city.”
Akio followed her gaze. The cafe was small but inviting: polished wood, soft lighting, a handwritten menu visible through the window. It was the kind of place that felt more like a home than a business. He didn’t mind. Aira’s excitement alone made it worth the detour.
She was in the middle of excitedly rattling off details about their menu when a new voice cut through her words.
“Aira?”
They both turned. Two figures were walking toward them from down the street—a young woman and man, side by side. The resemblance between them was unmistakable.
The girl had pale skin, long black hair tied into two low ponytails, and eyes the color of burnt amber, sharp yet strangely gentle. Her outfit was simple, a dark cardigan paired with a skirt, and her expression carried that same calm warmth Aira often projected toward strangers.
Beside her, the man was a different story. Taller, black hair tousled but precise, the same orange eyes framed by a faint diagonal scar across the bridge of his nose. His posture was relaxed but deliberate, his expression unreadable with just the faintest edge of judgment.
Akio recognized them instantly—the Morvane siblings.
Yoru and Damien.
The moment Aira saw Yoru, her expression lit up. She rushed forward without hesitation, nearly barreling into the girl before wrapping her in a tight hug.
“Yoru!! It’s been so long, bestie! How was your trip? I missed you!”
Yoru laughed softly, the sound quiet but genuine. “I hope you’re doing well,” she said, her tone gentle, warm. There was a calm steadiness about her that contrasted perfectly with Aira’s fire. The two fell into easy chatter, catching up like no time had passed at all—Aira speaking a mile a minute, Yoru responding in thoughtful pauses that somehow balanced her energy rather than dimming it.
Akio watched from a few paces back, a faint smile tugging at his lips. Aira had always been the type to collect friends wherever she went, but Yoru was different: one of the few who had truly lasted through the years. The two had met at some writing program back when they were teenagers and had been inseparable ever since. Aira had once described Yoru as the quiet to her storm, the calm that anchored her chaos. He could see it.
Yoru’s real name was Lyla, though for reasons Akio never quite learned, she’d chosen to go by Yoru. He’d never asked why. Some things didn’t need explanations.
“So, what are you doing here?” Aira asked brightly.
Yoru tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear, her voice soft but pleased. “I wanted to try the drinks from this café.”
Aira gasped. “No way, me too! We should go in together!”
Yoru’s lips curved into a small, shy smile. “That would be nice.”
Aira was halfway to the door when she paused, as though suddenly remembering something. “Oh right! I brought my brother with me. That’s cool, right?”
She turned and gestured toward Akio, who offered a polite nod in greeting. Yoru gave a small wave in return, her eyes lowering slightly in polite shyness. Akio could see why Aira liked her—there was a sincerity to her manner, a quiet kindness that was both grounding and rare. He didn’t know her well, but he understood why Aira trusted her so completely.
Yoru turned back to face Aira, her voice soft and understanding. “That’s fine,” she said. “I brought my brother too.”
Aira turned, her grin still bright but her tone shifting subtly when she noticed Damien standing quietly to the side. His hands were tucked neatly into his pants pockets, posture relaxed, expression unreadable. There was nothing particularly unfriendly about him, he even looked mildly polite, but something about his composure carried a faint, quiet edge.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Aira smiled anyway, the kind of smile that was equal parts greeting and cautious judgment.
“Oh! Hi, Damien,” she said, her voice caught somewhere between warmth and uncertainty. It was the tone of someone who’d decided not to admit aloud that she found her best friend’s brother a little weird.
Damien inclined his head slightly, voice smooth but detached. “How have things been with your blog?”
That single, casual question was all Aira needed to light up again. She straightened, hand on her hip, her pride radiating like sunlight.
“It’s been superb!” she declared, giving him a confident thumbs up. “The readers are loving it! I just released an article the other day that was a total smash hit.”
Yoru’s quiet voice joined in, soft but earnest. “I read it,” she said, smiling faintly. “I really liked it.”
Aira’s face melted into joy. She immediately grabbed Yoru’s hands, practically bouncing on her feet. “I’m so glad you liked it! Oh my god, bestie, we have to do more articles together. I have to tell you about this latest theory I’ve been working on—”
And just like that, the two fell into their own little world—chattering, laughing, half whispering, half squealing in excitement. Their voices faded into background music, a rhythm of friendship that filled the air like light.
Akio watched them for a moment, a faint curve of amusement tugging at his mouth. But when he glanced to the side, he found Damien watching too.
Their eyes met, and something subtle shifted.
It wasn’t hostility, exactly. Just an unspoken recognition. The air tightened, the faint spark of something long standing sparking quietly to life. Not quite tension, not quite familiarity: something sharper.
Competition.
Akio had known Damien for years, long before this accidental reunion. They’d crossed paths constantly—two academic prodigies orbiting the same rarefied circles. Honors classes, independent studies, advanced research programs. Everywhere Akio went, Damien was already there, waiting, or vice versa. Both were top of the school, both consistently perfect in every subject, and both far too self assured to ever say it aloud.
But their rivalry had never been about grades. Akio couldn’t care less about numerical rankings or school records. Those were just data points, fleeting, empty. What drove him was something far simpler—and far pettier.
The fun of winning.
The satisfaction of seeing Damien’s calm, composed mask twitch by even a fraction. The quiet, private joy of outmaneuvering him just because he could. And judging by the faint curve of Damien’s lips, the barely perceptible gleam in his ember orange eyes, Akio knew he felt exactly the same way.
“Ah, Damien,” Akio said lightly, tone equal parts pleasant and provoking. “What a surprise. I didn’t realize this café accepted villains before noon.”
Damien’s voice was smooth as ever, dipped in that casual confidence that always sounded rehearsed.
“Avenis,” he greeted, tone polite but pointed. “And here I thought this was going to be a peaceful morning.”
Akio tilted his head, smile still calm. “Still using last names? After all these years, I would’ve thought you’d at least pretend we’re on friendly terms.”
Damien gave a quiet huff of laughter. “Unlike you, I don’t waste time on social theater. I prefer results.”
“Right,” Akio said easily, feigning thought. “Like that paper you spent three months writing. I especially liked the part where it got rejected twice.”
Damien’s polite expression barely twitched, but there was an unmistakable spark behind his eyes. “Peer reviewers lack vision,” he said smoothly. “Not that you’d understand—you’re too busy drowning yourself in your tea rituals.”
Akio chuckled, unbothered. “Better tea than the caffeinated jet fuel you call coffee.”
“Coffee,” Damien said, leaning forward slightly, “is passion distilled. It’s bold. Intense. The drink of visionaries and insomniacs. It wakes the mind and burns away hesitation.”
“Mm,” Akio hummed, crossing his arms casually. “And tea, meanwhile, is clarity. It sharpens the senses, centers thought, and reminds you that patience achieves more than panic.”
Damien’s lips curved in mock offense. “Some of us have the constitution to handle greatness. The rest,” he said, gesturing vaguely towards him, “settle for steeped leaves and self delusion.”
Akio’s smile widened. “Says the theater major,” he replied, his tone warm but laced with humor. “You’ve really got the dramatic flair for describing bean water. I almost believed it.”
Damien scoffed. “Please. At least theater has substance. You’re on the student council, that’s just performative politics for people who like hearing themselves talk.”
Akio’s eyes gleamed, sharp as a blade.
“You’re right,” he said. “But unlike you, I get standing ovations without begging for an audience.”
That landed.
For a heartbeat, Damien went still, his jaw tightening just slightly before his unreadable expression slid back into place. His eyes narrowed a fraction, but the damage was done. Akio didn’t gloat—he just stood there, hands in his pockets, calm as the tide. The silence between them said everything words didn’t have to.
He’s so mad, Akio thought, hiding a faint, satisfied grin.
A light slap to his arm broke the moment.
“Are you done?”
He blinked and turned. Aira was standing beside him, looking unimpressed in that classic little sister way—half judgment, half secondhand embarrassment. She had two drinks in hand, one of which she shoved into his.
“You two were talking forever, so we got bored and went inside. Here.”
Akio glanced down. The cup was cold in his hand, condensation pooling on his fingers. He looked through the plastic lid—iced tea. Fitting. He hadn’t even noticed they’d gone into the cafe. Across from him, Yoru handed Damien an iced coffee, the irony of the moment not lost on either of them.
“Thanks,” Akio said simply.
“Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome, nerd.” Aira rolled her eyes, then turned back to Yoru with a grin. “This was so fun! We have to catch up again soon. Your place tomorrow?”
Yoru nodded, smiling warmly. “Yeah! I look forward to it. See you tomorrow, Aira.”
The four of them drifted apart from the café, the girls still waving to each other as they went opposite ways. Akio and Damien lingered for a brief, polite moment, exchanging nothing but a curt nod before parting.
As soon as the Morvanes disappeared around the corner, Aira smacked Akio’s arm again.
“Can you not just have a normal social interaction for once?” she said, giving him a sharp side eye. “Why are you always like this?”
Akio took a slow sip of his tea, completely unbothered. “What do you mean? I didn’t do anything.”
Aira groaned, exasperated. “You’re so annoying. You could at least try to get along with Damien. He’s Yoru’s brother! My bestie’s brother! I get that you’re both giga nerds or whatever, but do you have to troll him on purpose?”
Akio paused for a beat, feigning thoughtfulness. Then, with perfect sincerity, he said, “I have to troll him, it’s good for morale.”
She groaned, clearly fed up. “Unbelievable. This is why I can’t take you anywhere.”
Akio chuckled quietly, taking another sip of his drink. The irony wasn’t lost on him—their little sisters were best friends, while he and Damien couldn’t resist treating every encounter like a battlefield. Still, he knew where the line was. Whatever rivalry simmered between them, it would never touch the girls’ friendship.
He looked down at his tea, the ice clinking softly as he tilted the cup.
“At least,” he murmured under his breath, “it keeps things interesting.”
─ ? NEXT CHAPTER POV ? ─
Akio
Tea or Coffee?
