Toru couldn't help but feel some nervous trepidation at entering Kouchisei's house. He could count on one hand the number of times he'd actually visited the home of a classmate or teammate, and this was a significant addition to the tally.
Some part of him still didn't know why he'd come. It was very, very cold; the stone, the stone lanterns, Kou himself. It may have been a welcoming abode to he who lived there, but to Toru, it said "go away" rather loudly and clearly in the crisp air. Nevertheless, he strode behind Kouchisei as confidently as he could until he reached the door.
Warmth was a relief, and he took no time in darting into the entryway. Closing the door only came as an afterthought five seconds into his removal of his shoes. It wouldn't do to commit such an impolite act in his host's home, after all.
What a home it was, too. For all that it was sterile and austere, the opposite of Toru's magazine-and-game-box-strewn little dorm, it clearly spoke to an owner of wealth and good taste. Kou's dad, he concluded. A man of traditional decorations and polished wood floors, not lived-in spaces, befitting of the owner of a ryokan.
Shoes now safely removed and stowed away along with his coat, Toru stood up to follow Kou and almost immediately slipped and fell on the polished surface of the room's floor. He only just caught himself by the hand on one of the hooks of the coat rack.
"I-I, um... sorry! That's just my clumsiness there, my bad!"
He righted himself. "A-anyway, do you want to go up to your room, or to the living room, o-or what? It's really up to you, since you know this house-" at all "-better than I do."