A late Thursday evening thunderstorm rumbled over the city, rain pelting the apartment building’s windows like a frantic debug log. Haruto Takemi, fresh from his babysitting saga, sat in Aiko Suzuki’s apartment, 2A, fiddling with his phone, his navy hoodie damp from a dash through the rain. His messy black hair clung to his forehead, glasses fogged slightly, and his brown eyes darted nervously. Just dropping off her charger. In and out. Don’t make a fool of yourself again. His stomach flipped, torn between awe of Aiko and stress over his tech competition looming next month. “Gotta nail that algorithm,” he muttered, nudging his glasses.

Aiko opened the door, her long dark hair loose, cascading over a soft gray sweater and black leggings. Her hazel eyes were warm but tense, a faint crease on her brow as thunder cracked outside. “Haruto! Perfect timing,” she said, her voice bright but edged with strain. “My phone’s dying, and Emi’s cranky. Come in before you drown.” She stepped aside, revealing a cozy living room lit by a single lamp, boxes like “Emi’s Blankets” and “Old Keepsakes” still stacked in the corner.

Three-year-old Emi huddled on the couch, clutching her stuffed rabbit, her big brown eyes wide as lightning flashed. “Boom scary,” she whimpered, burying her face in the rabbit.

Haruto hesitated, then stepped in, handing Aiko the charger. “Thought you might need this,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. Smooth, Haruto. Real smooth. Aiko plugged it in, her fingers brushing his, sending a jolt through him stronger than the storm. “You’re my hero, as usual,” she teased, but her smile faltered as another thunderclap shook the windows.

Suddenly, the lamp flickered and died, plunging the room into darkness. Emi squealed, and Aiko gasped, her voice tight. “Great, a blackout. Just what I needed.” Haruto’s phone flashlight cut through the gloom, revealing Aiko’s clenched hands. Is she… scared? “I’ll find candles,” he said, rummaging through a kitchen drawer, his elbow knocking over a mug with a clatter. “Oops, sorry!”

Aiko laughed, the sound shaky but warm. “You’re keeping things exciting, Haruto.” She scooped up Emi, soothing her with a hum, and joined him, pulling out a few stubby candles from a box. They lit them, their faces glowing in the soft orange flicker, the room now a cocoon against the storm. Aiko set Emi on the play mat, where she clutched her dinosaur, still wary of the thunder.

“Emi-chan needs a distraction,” Haruto said, spotting Aiko’s old Bluetooth speaker. He paired his phone, queuing a upbeat pop playlist—safe, kid-friendly tunes. “Dance party?” he suggested, his face reddening. Dance? I’m a walking glitch. Emi perked up, swaying her dinosaur, and Aiko grinned, joining in with a playful twirl. “You’re full of surprises, Haruto,” she said, her tension easing.

The music shifted to a slower song, and Emi giggled, tugging Haruto’s sleeve. “Tickle!” she demanded, poking his side. Haruto froze, then tickled her gently, earning a squeal. Aiko joined in, tickling Emi’s belly, her laughter mingling with her daughter’s. In the chaos, Emi pushed Haruto toward Aiko, and their hands tangled in a playful scuffle. Aiko’s foot caught on the play mat, and she stumbled forward, her hands landing on Haruto’s chest to catch herself. Their faces were inches apart, her lavender scent enveloping him, candlelight dancing in her wide hazel eyes.

Haruto’s heart jackhammered, his glasses fogging. System overload. She’s so close. Aiko’s breath hitched, her cheeks flushing, but she didn’t pull away immediately. “Sorry,” she whispered, her voice soft, almost uncertain. Emi clapped, oblivious, breaking the spell. Aiko eased back, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, her smile shy. “Emi’s the real troublemaker here,” she said, deflecting.

Haruto nodded, his throat dry. “Yeah, total chaos agent,” he croaked, pushing up his glasses. I’m falling for her. Hard. He glanced at Emi, now yawning, and Aiko’s phone, which buzzed with a new text from an unknown number—ignored as she focused on her daughter. “Storm’s calming,” he said, desperate to sound normal. “I should, uh, check my code for that tech competition. Big deal coming up.”

Aiko nodded, carrying Emi to her crib. “Thanks for the charger—and the dance party,” she said, her voice warm again. “You’re good at this, Haruto. Saving my sanity, I mean.” She paused at the door, her expression soft. “Stay dry out there.”

Haruto stumbled back to 2B, rain still pattering, his mind a whirlwind of candlelight, tickles, and Aiko’s eyes. That was… too much. Way too much. In 2A, Aiko tucked Emi in, glancing at the unanswered text, her brow creasing as the storm faded into silence.