Haruka had the tablet pointed at Ren’s face so she couldn’t see Mike’s expression, which was probably for the best.

The call ended with Haruka saying goodbye four times, which appeared to be a number Ren was accustomed to, and then she lowered the tablet and looked at Mike with the expression of someone who had just done something that made her delighted.

"I can already tell that he liked you," she said.

’That sounds fucking gay... should’ve said respected me, but I know that her English isn’t that good.’ Mike thought. ’Now... I’m curious what she would say when I brutally fuck her.’

"Good," Mike said.

"He worries easily," she said. "About the distance."

"He doesn’t say it much, but I can tell." She tucked the tablet under her arm. "Anyway..."

"I wanted to ask if you’d take me around today."

"I need to find a supermarket and a pharmacy and possibly a place that sells phone cases because I dropped mine on the train and the corner is cracked now."

"Sure," Mike said. "Give me ten minutes."

She looked at him. "You don’t even ask where we’re going?"

"You’re going to tell me anyway," Mike said, closing the door.

He heard her laugh in the hallway.

’Another day of that desire level grinding... my favorite kind of thing now.’

...

They started with the supermarket two streets over, which took longer than it would have taken Mike alone because Haruka stopped to look at things.

Haruka did not browse aimlessly; instead, she explored like someone cataloging a new environment, picking up packages to read, asking Mike questions about unfamiliar brands, and occasionally adding items to the basket with the decisive energy of someone who had researched this category of decision beforehand.

"Do you cook?" she asked, somewhere in the middle of the grain aisle.

"Enough not to starve," Mike said.

"I cook a lot at home," Haruka said. "My mom taught me."

"She said if you can cook, you can always take care of yourself, which I think was her way of saying she was worried about me moving abroad." She considered a bag of rice. "I think she’s right, though."

"Cooking is one of those things where the skill directly improves your life."

"You put a lot of thought into useful things," Mike said.

"I put a lot of thought into everything," she said. "Ren says I should think less and do more."

"I think the right answer is somewhere in the middle."

"What do you think the right balance is?"

She glanced at the bag of rice. "I believe you think until you reach clarity about your actions, and then you proceed without overthinking."

"The challenge lies in recognizing when you’ve completed the initial stage."

Mike took the rice bag from her and put it in the basket. "That works."

She looked at him. "You do that a lot."

"What?"

"Just decide things," she said. "You don’t debate very much."

"Debating is for people who aren’t sure," Mike said.

She thought about that for a moment, then smiled at the next aisle. "Ren would disagree with you. He thinks that the debate is the point."

"What do you think?"

"I think it depends on what you’re deciding about," she said. "Some things you need to talk through."

"Some things you already know the answers to, and you’re just delaying."

Mike looked at her sideways. Twenty-two years old, one day into a new country, putting rice in a basket and making observations about decision-making that a significant number of people three times her age had not arrived at.

He filed that under "handle carefully."

They finished the supermarket tour and then found a pharmacy on the next street. Haruka mentioned the phone case with the energy of someone who had been patient about the detour and felt the time had finally come.

Mike recognized the mall. It was the one flagged in the navigation data as the largest commercial center in the district, a twenty-minute walk or ten-minute transit ride from Harwick Lane.

They took the transit.

The Erosyne Grand Commercial Center in District 3 was exactly as its name suggested. It featured seven floors and a food court on the sixth, which boasted thirty-two different stalls, representing, according to a sign near the elevator, twenty-four countries.

The ground floor mainly housed high-street brands, while the middle floors offered a mix of local and international retail options.

Before the food court, the top floor included a cinema, an arcade, and a small indoor garden area that seemed to serve primarily as a backdrop for the mall’s promotional materials.

Haruka stepped inside and came to a halt.

She was gazing up at the atrium ceiling, which was made of glass, high above, and allowed a generous amount of Saturday afternoon light to filter in. The building buzzed with activity, typical of large malls on weekends, featuring a diverse mix of people like families, couples, groups of students, and workers enjoying their days off.

It created a vibrant atmosphere that felt like a compact version of the surrounding city.

"Whoaaaaa~! This place is hugeeeeee," Haruka said.

’That’s what she said.’

"It is," Mike agreed.

"I like it." She started moving again, back to normal speed. "Where are the phone cases?"

"Let’s find it together."

They found a phone accessories kiosk on the third floor five minutes later. Haruka spent twelve minutes selecting a case.

This process involved her holding each option up to the phone at arm’s length and comparing two finalists for about four minutes. Eventually, she chose the case that Mike had predicted she would pick within the first thirty seconds of the process.

She held up the chosen case. "Good choice?"

"Yep, good choice," he said.

"You already knew which one I was going to pick, didn’t you?"

"Yeah."

"And you didn’t say anything."

"Well, you needed to decide it yourself," he said. "It’s your phone."

She looked at him for a moment. "That’s either very patient or slightly manipulative."

"Both, probably," Mike said.

She laughed at that, genuinely, and put the case in her bag. "At least you’re honest about it."

They went to the food court afterward, as Haruka had been mentally noting it since she saw the sign near the elevator. She surveyed the thirty-two stalls, then turned to Mike and asked for his recommendations.

"Any good recommendations around here?"

"I don’t know most of these," he said, which was true.

He had been in Erosyne for less than two weeks.

"Then we should try things we don’t know," Haruka said, as if this were obviously the correct approach, which Mike could not technically argue with.

They sampled three dishes. Two were enjoyable, while one turned out to be a mistake. Haruka, chewing thoughtfully and determined to finish what they had started, described it as having a "very brave flavor."

"What does that mean?" Mike asked.

"It means I respect whoever made this, but I don’t think we should see each other again," she said and drank half her water.

Mike laughed. "Good one."

’She can make a joke about it, huh? That’s actually good.’

She looked at him. "You have a good laugh," she said. "You don’t use it enough."

"I use it when something’s funny," he said.

"Things are funny more often than people let themselves notice," she said. "Ren is like that too."

"He’s very serious until he isn’t, and then he’s the funniest person I know." She paused. "I miss him today."

’Aww... poor girl, but don’t worry... those feelings will be replaced by something addicting that you don’t even know.’

Mike looked at her for a moment, and he already prepared for an answer.

"Don’t worry. Two years isn’t as long as it sounds," he said.

"I know," she said. "I just miss him on Saturdays because we always have a date on Saturdays."

She finished her water and glanced at the next stall, her expression thoughtful, as if she had refocused on the task at hand.

[DESIRE LEVEL: HARUKA KANATA — 8/100]

Mike read it. An eight, up from zero. A Saturday filled with small talks, transit rides, and the food court, and she had moved to an eight without a single moment that could be identified as anything more than two people simply spending time together.

Which was, he reflected, exactly the kind of progress that was sustainable.

[NOTE: SUBJECT IS OPEN AND TRUSTING BY DEFAULT. THIS IS NOT THE SAME AS VULNERABILITY. DO NOT CONFUSE THEM.]

"There’s a stall over there from somewhere in Southeast Asia," he said. "The line’s been consistent for twenty minutes, which usually means it’s worth it."

Haruka quickly turned her attention. "Yes, let’s go to that one."

It was indeed worth it.

By the time they left the mall at five in the evening, Haruka had bought a phone case, a small plant for her windowsill that she had spotted at a garden kiosk on the fourth floor and felt she needed immediately, a notebook from a stationery shop because the one she brought from Japan was almost full, and a packet of something from the Japanese import food section that she clutched like a treasure, describing it as "the one thing I cannot survive without" without further elaboration.

Mike had bought nothing and felt no particular need to justify that decision to anyone.

They walked back to Harwick Lane in the early evening light, with Haruka discussing her expectations for the university, what the first week might be like, and whether the international relations professors would be as interesting as those described in the course catalog.

Mike listened, responded, and asked questions that encouraged her to talk more, which she did willingly, unaware that this was happening.

[DESIRE LEVEL: HARUKA KANATA — 15/100]

He noted it when it appeared and said nothing.