She looked around, finding the room oddly silent, wondering where his sister-in-law was. Ayumu answered her question by pulling a chair and sitting down flaccidly on it.

“She must’ve gone out,” he murmured thoughtfully, puzzled by the lack of the dark-haired woman himself. She was supposed to have a day off, and he expected to see her watching TV in the living room, sipping a drink and nagging him about dinner.

“Ne, Narumi-san,” the other occupant of the kitchen spoke, glancing at the plastic bottle on the tray on the other side of the kitchen. Ayumu lifted his head, glancing at her in a deadpanning manner, waiting for her to say what she’s been repeating all the way from school to his house. “I’m thirsty.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I know.” She was looking at him in anticipation, ignoring the abiding look on his face completely. “So?”

“Mou,” she mumbled, pursing her lips in a pout, “you are terrible, Narumi-san.”

He just shrugged half-heartedly, watching her crossing the distance to the cupboards and searching for a glass. She was humming softly and he figured it must’ve been something new since he had never heard that melody before. It was light and cheerful, reminding him of something happy. He stared at the table’s surface, not being able to remember when was the last time he had felt happy. He realized he forgot how it felt.

Hiyono opened one side of the cupboard, taking out a glass carefully, not wanting to be accused of breaking it by a very irate looking Madoka-neesan. As luck would want it, she managed to brush the glass against the other one, cringing when a loud clang filled the kitchen.

“Oi,” the brown-haired boy exclaimed, glancing at her from the chair, “don’t break everything. I need to drink out of something.”

The girl blushed slightly but still managed to throw a glare at him. “Hai, hai...Gomen.”

She put the glass down carefully, reaching for the plastic bottle filled with orange liquid on the tray. Uncapping it, she poured some of it into the glass, twirling the cap back after that. She leaned to the right to reach the tap and let the water flow into the glass.

Water mixed with the orange syrup, creating an orange tasty juice and making her sigh contently after taking a large sip. Ayumu watched from his spot, eyes fixated on the girl and the way her eyes closed happily, her lips quirking into a smile after she lowered the glass a bit.

“Ah,” she exclaimed happily, eyeing the glass with a happy smile, “much better.” She added but still frowned a bit. Turning her attention at the younger boy beside her, she looked at him questioningly.

“Does Narumi-san have ice?”

Ayumu cocked an eyebrow, looking at her somewhat oddly.

“Ice? What do you need ice for?”

She grinned, gazing at the half-empty glass in her hands. “It tastes better when it’s cold.”

Ayumu blinked, shaking his head at that. No matter how well he thought he knew her, she always seemed to find a way to surprise him with something new. He sighed involuntarily and pointed at the fridge.

“In there,” he replied in a steady voice, already knowing she would reach for the wrong door. “The upper cabinet.” He added, glancing at her slightly bent figure and hand half outstretched to grab the plastic handle. She blinked and then looked up.

“Ah...” she whispered, reaching for the handle and opening the small cabinet. She stuck her hand inside, making a face when a cool air grazed her skin. She managed to pull the plastic box outside somehow, struggling with it for a while before the icy interior gave up with a cracking sound and let the box slip into her hand.

He was sitting calmly behind the table, watching her roaming around his kitchen like it belonged to her as well...like she was his housemate, a person who lived with him and shared the air, the rooms, and life with him. His expression turned into a thoughtful one for a moment, his mind toying with the idea of having her around all the time. There was no doubt the amount of decibels in the house would increase and he would be stuck between two women, both of them demanding from him to cook for them. He winced inwardly, already picturing neesan commanding him what to cook for dinner and her, waiting patiently behind the table with a plate in front of her. She already developed a habit of stealing his lunch...

“Mou,” was heard from across the kitchen and he snapped out of his thoughts, wondering briefly why he even started thinking of having her around constantly. He looked at her figure, her back turned to him, rigid and shoulders stiff. He craned his neck a bit to see what she was up to now and deadpanned when he saw she couldn’t take the ice out of the box – it was stuck inside small, divided cubes, stubbornly refusing to drop out. He sighed and got up, making her look at him in surprise when he took the box away from her hands.

“You’re doing it the wrong way,” he said when he realized she was trying to force the cubes out by hitting the opposite side of the box. She blushed faintly when he gave her a slightly disapproving look and let her hands rest on the cupboard. He glanced briefly at her red fingers, cold to the touch when he took the box away from her. She was quiet, watching with interest how he turned the box upside down and twisted the ends of it sharply. There was a faint, cracking sound and she gasped softly when several cubes jumped out, rolling over the surface playfully.

“There,” he said, looking at her wondering expression, “enough?”

She glanced at him then at the four cubes, lying neatly on the cupboard, scattered. She nodded, taking them all and dropping them into her glass with a soft smile. Ayumu placed the box into the cabinet again and crossed his arms over his chest, leaning on the cupboard.

She went to sit on the chair he was occupying just a few minutes ago, putting the glass on the table after taking a sip. A comfortable silence followed in which the brown haired teen was staring out the window indifferently and the girl was looking at the ice cubes, swimming in the orange juice.

His fingers were cold after being exposed to the icy box, but his pensive expression revealed he was deep in thoughts, gazing solemnly at the blue sky outside. When she spoke, it was in a light, good-natured tone, but her words surprised him.

“Narumi-san is like an ice cube,” she said, earning a somewhat incredulous look from him in return. She giggled at his astonished expression, filling the kitchen with something bright and uplifting again. He blinked; thinking again about the last time the kitchen heard something even close to laughter. Maybe that was the reason why it sounded so odd.

“What do you mean?” He asked her, tightening the muscles in his arms over his chest. She smiled at him kindly, the kind of smile that would make him feel strangely uncomfortable every time.

“The ice is always cold and alone while in the box, but once you take it out and put it into something like a glass filled with juice, it isn’t alone anymore, it has a...purpose,” she explained and he listened carefully, slowly realizing what she was getting at but not wanting to fully acknowledge it. “And so it’s the same with Narumi-san.”

He was quiet, staring at her with an unreadable expression, contemplating her words. After a while, he uncrossed his hands and let them support him by putting them behind his back, on the cupboard.

“Are you saying that I don’t have a purpose?” He asked her, his tone surprisingly icy and cold. She realized her mistake and the wrong choice of words, shaking her head quickly to mend the slip-up.

“No, I...I didn’t mean it that way,” she said in a rushed manner, offering him an apologetic look. “I meant to say that...like ice, Narumi-san is cold and unapproachable but when around someone, he...he...”

She looked at the glass and at the orange juice, shimmering slightly on a few rays of light that managed to squeeze in through the window. The ice cubes were gone.

“Melts.”

Both of them blinked and stared at the glass, observing it like they just encountered a new world wonder. The silence was uncomfortable this time, tense and almost touchable, but Hiyono smiled nonetheless at his frowning face.

“Narumi-san needs someone around him to...melt the ice around him away,” she finished the last word in a whisper, looking at him with something akin to compassion and kindness in her eyes. He looked away, not being able to gaze into her eyes anymore.

“Hmph,” he offered as a reply, crossing his arms again and making her giggle softly. She got up abruptly, finishing her juice before that and washed the glass in the sink by letting the water spray over it. He looked at her in surprise again, watching her wiping the glass with a cloth and standing up on her tiptoes to put it back into the cupboard.

“There,” she said, smiling confidently at him and straightening her school uniform. “I...I better go now.” She added in a more soothing tone and looked at him with that same look in her eyes he hated sometimes.

She turned around, leaving the kitchen and heading down the hall. He followed, watching her putting the slippers by the doors diligently and taking her schoolbag from the floor. She slipped her shoes back on, tapping with them against the floor a bit before looking at him.

She smiled, bowing once and he blinked at her in confusion.

“Thank you, Narumi-san,” she said and he resisted the urge to snort.

“For almost breaking my dishes and my ice box? No problem.” He replied, sarcasm dripping with every word. She glared at him, sticking her tongue out.

“Hidoi...” She muttered and turning around, grabbed the door handle and stepped out, closing the doors behind her a little too loudly. He cringed and sighed heavily after that, dragging himself back to the kitchen.

He glanced at the clock on the wall, wondering where Madoka was at the moment and then plopped down on the chair again, glancing around.

He frowned when he felt something missing and then realized what that something was when he couldn’t hear anything except his own breathing.