The sun was beginning to set as Saval and Semiel finished tweaking the last few details of the makeshift setup they had put together in the dining area. The laptop, microphones, and a decently average camera were aimed at a rustic wooden table where a sheet of paper lay, covered in ideas scribbled with a black marker.
—Okay, so... recap of forgotten indie games or ranking of worst-written JRPG characters? —asked Semiel, stretching with a small smile.
Saval was leaning over the paper, fiddling with the marker cap.
—We could do both, but start with the character one. It's lighter, might go viral. Then in a more serious one we can talk about the indies.
—I like that. Want to record it tomorrow?
Saval hesitated for a second.
—Yeah, but in the afternoon. I want to write some things in the morning... you know.
Semiel nodded. He knew. Even if they didn't fully talk about the university, the wound was still there. Everything that had happened, what had broken. Saval wasn't ready to go back just yet. But the simple act of planning content together was a step, a kind of quiet agreement moving forward.
They ordered pizza just before sunset, and by the time the box arrived, they had already packed up the equipment. Night fell like a soft coat, and the living room turned into a warm little corner lit by a lamp and filled with the smell of melted cheese. The TV was already playing the opening credits of Pokémon 2000.
—This was my favorite movie when I was nine —said Semiel, settling onto the couch with a giant bowl of popcorn.
—Of course —laughed Saval—. Lugia's in it! It's literally a psychic sea bird that plays little magic flutes to save the world.
—They're not magic flutes, they're the orbs! —protested Semiel, throwing a popcorn at him.
Saval caught it in midair with his mouth.
—Whatever. This movie has the best soundtrack. And Ash is less dumb than usual.
—Ash sacrifices himself. Remember that?
Semiel's laugh filled the room. There was something therapeutic about the conversation. It was easy, even comforting. Like coming back to an old house that still smelled like childhood. The scene with Melody playing the ocarina made them both go quiet for a moment, until Saval murmured:
—I don't think I ever understood if Melody liked Ash or if she was just being flirty to mess with Misty.
—Thank you! I thought the same thing! —replied Semiel, pointing at the screen—. It's like those characters people ship for no reason. Like... I don't know... Cynthia and literally anyone.
—Cynthia needs no one —said Saval, faking solemnity—. Cynthia is a legend.
—A goddess. An icon. My wife. I respect her deeply.
They both burst out laughing again. At some point, the pizza had cooled down a bit and the popcorn was reduced to hard kernels at the bottom of the bowl. The movie ended, and the credits began to roll with that nostalgic 90s song about crossed destinies and promises.
—Wanna watch another one? —asked Semiel, his voice softer now, more lying down than sitting.
—Sure. What are you thinking?
—I was thinking... Your Name. Too cheesy?
Saval shook his head.
—I never finished it. I fell asleep the first time.
—You should be arrested for that.
The search on the video platform was quick. As the movie loaded, Saval stretched and asked:
—What do you plan to do after recording the video? His voice sounded casual, but there was a hint of more serious curiosity in it.
Semiel shrugged.
—I don't know. I guess go back home. Think about whether I want to return to university. Or if it doesn't make sense anymore. What about you?
Saval simply nodded. Silence settled in with the first notes of the film.
—I'm going to get us something, said Semiel, getting up and heading to the kitchen.
He came back with two glasses and a bottle of cheap wine they had bought on impulse at the local market. They toasted without words, just a slight nod.
As the movie progressed, the atmosphere changed. The city lights, the connection between Taki and Mitsuha, the threads of fate, the mistakes in time. Saval was clearly more absorbed than with the previous film. His eyes followed the animation with quiet focus. Beside him, Semiel drank slowly.
Thoughts started piling up.
Should I tell him tonight?
He glanced sideways at Saval, who was leaning back, half-full glass in hand, his pupils shining with the reflection of the screen. Semiel felt his heart beating faster than usual.
What if it ruins everything?
He ran a hand over his face. The scene where the comet split the sky left him breathless. And the later reveal, when they discover she had died, made him swallow hard. It wasn't the wine anymore. It was the story. It was the moment. It was him.
He looked at Saval again, ready to speak, but stopped.
Saval turned toward him at the very end, when the protagonists cross paths on the stairs.
When they look at each other. When they ask:
Your name…?
The music swelled, and Semiel felt everything inside him collapse in a mixture of emotion and cheap wine.
—It was beautiful, murmured Saval as the credits began. Sad, but beautiful. I liked it.
—Yeah… me too.
Saval shifted slightly toward him. He looked at him and asked, in a calm, almost sleepy voice, but full of sincerity:
—Would you also be happy to meet someone you love like that?
Semiel looked at him, empty glass in hand, cheeks flushed from the wine and his heart in disarray.
—Yes, he said softly. I'd be happy to meet you.
And that was how the night ended.