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I schooled my face immediately, begging it not to betray the jolt of shock that froze my feet to the flagstones. Woojin and Minjae looked relaxed, if a bit surprised to find me standing with their younger members. When Jihoon raised his face, his eyes met mine. I inhaled sharply and might have taken a step back, had my knees not been firmly locked. He stepped down from the building, but missed a step and stumbled, dropping the bottle of water he was holding. The older members jumped back with cries of protest as the water splashed on impact. Jihoon quickly bent to retrieve it, muttering apologies. He didn’t look up at me again, but I saw the colour rising in his cheeks. He had always been terrible at masking when he was embarrassed.

I had to turn away to hide my smile.

The six of us continued up the mountain, and while I felt a little conflicted, it would have been far more awkward for me to turn around at that point. After a while though, Ace and Lee ran off up ahead, saying something about making friends with the cats that inhabited the mountain. Then, like they’d scripted it that way, Woojin and Minjae kept pausing, so deeply in conversation about something that it felt intrusive to stand quietly by, waiting for them. I turned to Joon, offering him a wry smile and a shrug, and we both set off on our own.

Falling into step with him felt almost like second nature. Each of our steps alternated as our pace matched, and we moved in a familiar rhythm. We didn’t talk, and after a while the silence became less tense, and I became capable of once more taking in my surroundings. It was cold, and although the walking had warmed me up, my breath still fogged the air in front of me. The sun had barely broken through the grey blanket of cloud all day.

By the time we broke free of the trees, we’d made it up onto a little plateau area overlooking a pond. Echo Pond, according to the signpost, announcing we were about halfway up.

It was beautiful here, despite the sparse foliage on the surrounding trees, and the overcast sky making the surface of the pond appear murky. Despite this, we both paused to take photos. Jihoon said he’d upload them to his social media later, whereas any I took would need to wait. I was absolutely not about to advertise the fact I was in the same place, at the same time as the group. I was not in the mood to bring down that kind of public scrutiny.

Some of the photos I took I had no intention of sharing. I just wanted the digital memories. I’d always wanted to come to Japan, and I had begun to realise that I’d been so focused on the mechanics of the tour that I had forgotten that I was actually here. I didn’t want to miss it because I was so busy moving through it. Shoving that melancholy thought aside, I offered to take a photo of Joon, who was busy charming a little tabby cat that had paused to watch us. He kneeled down and made the universal ‘pspsps’ sound to attract its attention, but alas the cat was remarkably aloof. None of the cats up on this mountain – of which there were a startlingly large number – had paid the slightest bit of attention to any of us so far. I decided to try my luck and crouched down, holding out my hand silently and waiting. My eyes flared wide as the little tabby took a few hesitant steps in my direction, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Jihoon raising his phone in my direction, but I stayed focused on the cat who had now stopped a little distance away to sniff my hand. To my shock, the little thing walked up the length of my outstretched arm and headbutted my chin. I laughed in disbelief and knelt on the ground to stroke it. I could feel it purring as it put its two front paws on me. Gingerly, I tried to pick it up, expecting it to run away, but obviously someone had been spoiling the little thing, as it allowed me not only to pick it up, but also to hold it like a fluffy little baby in my arms. I laughed gleefully and raised my face to see Jihoon had put the phone down and was kneeling, staring at me with an expression I didn’t know how to read, but made my chest ache. I looked back down to my new friend and gave him a little head boop before putting him gently back down and standing up, dusting off the knees of my jeans with a few quick swipes.

I cleared my throat and looked back out over the pond again, watching the way the surface rippled. I shivered as chill wind swept over me, rustling the nearly bare tree branches above us. I looked up to watch the way they swayed.

A moment later, a scarf was draped around my neck. I spun around, surprised, mouth open with a protest ready on my tongue, only to see Jihoon tucking his hands into his pockets, already walking away.

I tucked it more firmly around my neck, and as I did, I ran the material gently over my face. It was soft and smelt like him.

Clean laundry and soap.

We met Lee and Ace a little further up the path as they were making their way back down. They must have gone at quite a pace to be making their way back down already. Joon watched them go down after we’d said our goodbyes.

“Do you want to head back down?” he asked.

“Do you?”

He shook his head.

“Then let’s keep going. We’ve made it this far. Might as well go all the way.”

My legs were burning by the time we made it to the top, but as we passed through the final torii gate, I was glad we’d kept going because it was worth every step. There weren’t many people at the top, and a chill wind whistled over the rocky outcropping, tossing my hair around my face and stinging my cheeks.

“Whoa,” I exhaled, turning to stare at the expanse of Kyoto stretched across the horizon. The grey clouds seemed almost close enough to touch the tops of the buildings as they lazily moved across the sky. Through slivers in the clouds I could see the golden hue of the sun as it fought to break through the persistent cover.

I looked over my shoulder to see Jihoon sitting on the bench overlooking the view. He smiled at me and patted the seat next to him. I hesitated for a moment, but my shaking legs made the decision for me, and I walked over to sit beside him.

We sat in a silence that was almost comfortable. For a couple of minutes I was worried he was going to try and bring up LA. He’d made it very clear that we would talk about it, and here, on this bench at the top of a shrine, my heart thumped erratically and I couldn’t blame all of that on the thousands of stairs it took to get here. But the longer the quiet stretched between us, the more I found I wanted to fill it with something. To hear his voice, to talk about anything. Every minute that passed in silence felt… distant. And while it was frustrating, I had to admit – if only to myself – that I didn’t like it.

I said the first thing that came to mind.

“Is it okay that I’m here?”

He turned to stare at me, brows furrowed slightly.

“On the tour, I mean. Not specifically here in Kyoto.” I laughed awkwardly, cringing at myself.

“Would it change anything if I said no?” he answered eventually, and while my voice had sounded small in this wide open space, his only seemed to expand in the space between us.

I fidgeted. “I guess if you said you were really uncomfortable I would...”

“Would you leave?” he asked, tilting his head to study my face.

“No,” I admitted, “but I would make more of an effort to give you space.”

He nodded, like the answer was one he approved of.

“It is strange, but not uncomfortable. I–” he exhaled heavily and leaned back against the bench, seeming to consider his words. “I like that you’re here. Seeing the tour, yes, but also I want this for you. I could put aside my own comfort if I knew you were chasing your dream.”