Chapter 66:Beneath the streetlights
"Let's take a walk, only if you don't mind?" Shimo stood at my doorway, nervously fidgeting with her fingers. Her eyes darted around, unable to focus. It was obvious she was nervous.
"Sure. Sounds good," I said, stretching my arms above my head, cracking my stiff joints. "I could really use a walk after sleeping so much."
Her nervousness disappeared, replaced by a bright smile. "Yes! Let's go then!" She practically bounced on her toes, her excitement surprising me. It wasn't like her to be this expressive over something as simple as a walk.
I sighed and locked the door behind me. "Who knows what kind of weirdos might stroll into my place when I'm not around?"
---
The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky with the last traces of daylight. The streetlights flickered on one by one, casting a dim glow over the sidewalk. The temperature had dropped noticeably, and the once-vibrant street was now eerily quiet, with patches of darkness where the light didn't reach.
"So, tell me," I broke the silence, my voice cutting through the night, "Where did you go this morning?"
Shimo turned to look at me, her eyes locking onto mine. "You saw? I thought you were lying in bed the whole time."
"You know my bed's right by the window, right? I can see the entire road without even trying," I replied, scanning our surroundings with casual interest.
"O-oh! I see…" She ran her fingers through her hair, a habit of hers when she was gathering her thoughts. "Well, I guess I should tell you."
She hesitated, her gaze dropping to the ground. "I met a senior… Someone I admire. She's really talented, and everyone in the art department praises her work. I want to follow her example and create the perfect painting."
I listened intently, sensing there was more she wanted to say.
"But whenever I try, there's always something wrong. There's always a flaw—whether it's in the coloring, the emotion, the physical details, or the surroundings. I spot them all after I've finished." She let out a frustrated huff, placing a hand on her chest as if the weight of her words was pressing down on her. "Thanks for listening, but I don't need any advice. I just need to figure out how to create a perfect painting without any flaws."
I didn't respond. She'd made it clear she wasn't looking for advice, so I respected her wish.
Suddenly, a loud shout echoed through the night. "Damn it!" Shimo jumped at the sound, goosebumps rising on her skin. I turned, trying to locate the source of the voice. A boy, probably around our age, was standing in the large field nearby.
"Let's go." I grabbed Shimo's hand and pulled her along. She didn't protest—maybe because my grip was too strong, or maybe for some reason I couldn't quite understand.
We found a bench near the field and sat down, watching as the boy wandered toward us. He didn't seem to notice us at first, lost in his own thoughts.
I did what any guy would do when someone's headed your way looking all spaced out. "Yo," I greeted him casually.
His eye twitched as he snapped out of his thoughts and finally noticed us. His gaze settled on me, scrutinizing.
"What are you guys doing here at this hour?" he asked, his tone more curious than concerned.
"Nothing much. Just taking in the view of the empty field. Got any better suggestions?" I asked back, keeping my tone relaxed.
The boy raised an eyebrow, his expression a mix of skepticism and amusement. "You could hit up an arcade or something if you're bored. Unless you two are a couple. In that case, I'd recommend something a bit more... romantic."
"Oh, yeah?" I leaned back on the bench, smirking. "And what would you know about romance? You look like you've never had a date in your life."
He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Bold words coming from someone who looks like he just rolled out of bed. Do you even own a comb, or is the messy look your thing?"
Shimo stifled a laugh beside me, but I wasn't about to let this guy get the last word. "Better a messy look than whatever you've got going on. What's with the outfit? Did you lose a bet or just decide that 'bad fashion sense' was your aesthetic?"
The boy grinned, seemingly unfazed. "I'd take fashion advice from you, but I'm not sure I want to look like I shop exclusively at the clearance rack."
I chuckled, shaking my head. "At least I know how to dress myself. You look like your mom still picks out your clothes."
He laughed, genuinely amused. "Well, at least my mom isn't the one who does my laundry. When was the last time you washed that shirt? Or are you trying to cultivate a 'grunge' look?"
The banter was heating up, the playful insults flying back and forth. Despite the jabs, there was an undercurrent of mutual respect—like two boxers feeling each other out before a match.
Shimo, who had been watching the exchange with wide eyes, finally spoke up. "You guys are unbelievable. I can't tell if you're about to fight or start a bromance."
The boy looked at her, a smirk still playing on his lips. "Neither. I just like to see how much someone can take before they crack. Your friend here's got a decent sense of humor, though."
"Decent?" I echoed, raising an eyebrow. "I could roast you all night and still have material left over."
"Oh, really?" He leaned in, his eyes gleaming with challenge. "Try me."
I grinned, ready to fire back, but Shimo placed a hand on my arm, shaking her head. "Alright, you two. Let's not start a war in the middle of the night."
The boy straightened up, still grinning. "She's right. No need to go all out. Besides, I've got better things to do than trade insults with someone who clearly needs more sleep."
"Yeah, like what? Yelling at empty fields?" I shot back, unable to resist one last jab.
He laughed, turning to leave. "You're alright, Tokusake Ren. But I've got to go. Maybe I'll see you around—unless you're too busy napping."
As he walked away, he waved over his shoulder. "And by the way, you should've known I was just messing with you earlier. You two aren't friends. It's obvious you're dating. Have a good night, lovebirds."
I watched him go, feeling a mix of annoyance and amusement. "Let's head back," I said to Shimo, who followed me without a word.
"Are you okay?" Shimo asked, noticing that I was biting my lip, something I did when I was deep in thought or trying to suppress my emotions.
"I'm fine. Don't worry about it," I replied. The last thing I wanted was for her to see the kind of smile I was trying to hide. A smile that was anything but genuine.
But as we walked away, I couldn't help but think, 'That guy is an interesting character.'
••••••
As they continued walking back, the cool evening air wrapped around them, calming the tension from the earlier exchange. Ren, or rather the adult version of him, was still in control, navigating the situation with the seasoned ease of someone who had seen and experienced a lot more than the boy he used to be. The difference was subtle but unmistakable, like a shift in the wind that changes everything without anyone noticing.
"So, what did you think of him?" Shimo asked, breaking the silence.
Ren shrugged, his hands deep in his pockets. "He's got a sharp tongue. But I've dealt with worse."
Shimo chuckled softly. "I thought you two were about to go at it. You both were pretty quick with the insults."
"It was all in good fun," Ren replied, though he could tell Shimo wasn't entirely convinced. "Guys do that sometimes—it's like a test to see if the other guy's cool or if he's going to lose his temper."
"You really think you could've taken him if it came to that?" Shimo teased, bumping her shoulder against his.
Ren smirked, the hint of his adult self peeking through. "You doubt me? I've got more fight in me than you think."
Shimo smiled, shaking her head. "You're impossible, you know that?"
They continued walking in comfortable silence, the streetlights casting long shadows across the pavement. The night was peaceful, but Ren's mind was anything but. He couldn't shake the feeling that the encounter with the boy had stirred something within him, something that had been lying dormant for a while.
As they walked, Ren found himself thinking about what Shimo had said earlier, about how he'd changed. It was true—he wasn't the same person he used to be. He was more mature, more aware of the world around him. But it wasn't just about growing up; it was something deeper, something he hadn't quite figured out yet.
"Ren," Shimo said softly, pulling him out of his thoughts, "You know, if you ever want to talk about… anything, I'm here."
Ren glanced at her, his expression softening for just a moment. "Thanks, Shimo. I'll keep that in mind."
They reached the entrance to Ren's house, the dim light from the porch casting a warm glow over them. Ren turned to Shimo, offering her a small, genuine smile—the kind that didn't need words to convey its meaning.
"Take care, okay?" Shimo said, her voice gentle as she looked up at him.
"You too," Ren replied, his tone calm but with a hint of something deeper, a connection that words couldn't quite capture.
With that, Shimo gave him a final nod and turned to leave, her footsteps echoing softly as she walked away into the night. Ren watched her go, his hands once again deep in his pockets, and sighed quietly to himself.
"Good night, Shimo," he whispered to the empty street, before heading inside and closing the door behind him.