fox on the run | miya osamu

his dreams and hers

"Chuunchun? Are you okay?" he asks, visibly concerned, "Did something happen?"

Despite hearing him loud and clear, Suiren remains silent, still observing the cold soba. Seconds later, she finally glances up at him.

"Let's eat," she tells him as her eyes get quite glassy. Osamu just thinks his eyes are deceiving him. She looks so vulnerable and fragile.

He observes her every move, the way she lifted the bento from his hands, the way she brought out her chopsticks, and the way she smiled right after.

"Let's eat," she repeats, disrupting his fleeting mind.

"Yeah, let's eat," he agrees and gets his own pair of chopsticks. While he's at it, she goes ahead to taste the soba, then the other side dishes he made.

"Well? What do you think?" he inquires.

"I can't remember the taste of soba but this is delicious," she comments before eating more of it.

"Really? That's good. Wait, you don't eat soba?"

"It's been years since I last ate soba," she justifies, "But since you made it, I wanted to try it again."

"Do you have allergies or something? Is that a thing?"

"No, it's just that my brother used to make soba for me but he's gone now," she answers with a straight face. Osamu couldn't believe his ears.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know," he says in a voice filled with melancholy and regret.

"Oh, no, no, he's not dead, he just ran away," she chuckles. He's clueless if he should just laugh along. It's too awkward.

"He wanted to run a noodle shop in the city after high school and mother couldn't take it. She said he had to study in a university. So, he just ran away," she adds.

"Ah, I see. He also has a passion for food, huh?" His mood lightens for a bit but he couldn't shrug off the awkwardness. He begins eating his share while listening to her story.

"Yes. I never really understood it but he seemed happy. So, that's good, at least."

"What do you want to do after high school?" he asks before taking another bite. It makes her pause momentarily as she gives it a thought. She hasn't planned anything yet not has she even written anything down on her career path form. Suiren remembers it's due soon.

"I want to see him again," she gives him an answer, but it's not exactly the career path he was asking for.

"Then, any idea where he is?"

"Tokyo, I think," she guesses. "And you? What do you want to do after high school?" she returns a question he already has an answer to.

"Restaurant. I want to have my own restaurant," he answers, the corners of his lips subtly curving upwards.

"Oh."

"Well?" He's as surprised as she is.

"I thought you'd be a pro volleyball player, Osamu-san," she blurts out.

"And I thought you'd want to be a pro runner," he says, "Are you disappointed? You like cool jocks?"

"No, it's not that, I just didn't expect it to be not sports-related," she tells him with full honesty.

"I get the surprise, I know, it's unusual. Even 'Tsumu doesn't know this yet, bet he's gonna be real pissed."

"I think, well, I hope he understands you."

"But you, Chuunchun, don't you want to be a pro runner or something?"

"Actually, I think I can't be anything else other than being a runner. I don't know how to be anything else but a runner."

"I think you can be a pretty good cook too," he suggests, "Or a good actress." He chuckles as he remembers her role as a nine-tailed fox during the third-years' play.

"It's impossible," she lets out a shy giggle. "I'm not as good as you in cooking," she denies and looks at the almost empty bento on her lap.

"You like it?"

"Yes, I'm even ashamed of my onigiri now," she adds. She grabs the lunch box she made and peeks at the rice balls inside, genuinely feeling a little embarrassed.

"Nah, don't be, I like 'em," he reassures her.

"You haven't even tasted them, Osamu-san."

"I can already tell, Chuunchun."

"Then, I hope you really like it," she says and removes the cover of the lunch box, revealing three homemade rice balls.

"Thanks, Chuunchun," he says before grabbing one.

She fixates her gaze at him to see his reaction to her food and much to her relief, as he munches on one, he smiles at her, visibly happy and satisfied.

"Ish good," he compliments, "I chold ya, ya should be a chef too," he exaggerates.

"Uhuh, sure, sure," she simply agrees and nods.

He finishes the rice ball in no time and he grabs on another one right after, leaving the last one left for her. "Oh, a diffewent filling?" he expresses his surprises, still savoring the food.

"Yes, that one is pork," she confirms with a proud smile.

"And this one, this one is chicken," she continues, pointing at the remaining rice ball, "It's also for you, Osamu-san."

"No, I said we'd share," he hesitates.

"It's okay, I'm very full now."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm very sure, Osamu-san."

"Thanks, Chuunchun," his tone grows livelier than usual.

"By the way, can I ask you a question, Osamu-san?"

"Ye, sure."

"Do you mind if I call you, well, just Osamu? Or 'Samu?" she asks nearly in monotone, without a single trace of embarrassment or shyness on her face. He often wondered how she'd remain unfazed when saying stuff like these. Maybe because she's older? He could never figure it out.

"I think -san is too formal now," she adds.

"Yeah, yeah, sure, you can call me that," he answers, trying to maintain his cool and calm attitude.

"Great!" She smiles, visibly happy with the answer, "I also have one last question, 'Samu."

"Hmm?"

"Are you free this Saturday? I'd like to ask you out on a date."